“[In Louisiana] they pass under the name of Meadow Birds.  In Pennsylvania they are called Reed Birds, in Carolina Rice Buntings, and in the Sate of New York Boblinks.  The latter appellation is given to them as far eastward as they are known to proceed for the purpose of breeding . . .

About the middle of May . . . they have become so plentiful, and have so dispersed all over the country, that it is impossible to see a meadow or a field of corn, which does not contain several pairs of them.  The beauty, or, perhaps more properly, the variety of their plumage, as well as of their song, attracts the attention of the bird-catchers.  Great numbers are captured and exposed for sale in the markets, particularly in those of the city of New York.  They are caught in trap-cages, and feed and sing almost immediately after.  Many are carried to Europe, where the shipper is often disappointed in his profits, as by the time they reach there, the birds havbe changed their colours and seem all females . . .

No sooner have the young left the nest, than they and their parents associate with other families, so that by the end of July large flocks begin to appear . . . Now begin their devastations.  They plunder every field, but are shot in immense numbers”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 283-285 [excerpted].

“About the middle of April, the orange groves of the lower parts of Louisiana, and more especially those in the immediate vicinity of the City of New Orleans, are abundantly supplied with this beautiful little Sparrow.  But no sooner does it make its appearance than trap-cages are set, and a regular business is commenced in the market of that city.  The method employed in securing the male Painted Finch is so connected with its pugnacious habits, that I feel inclined to describe it, especially as it is so different from the common way of alluring birds, that it may afford you, kind reader, some amusement.

A male bird in full plumage is shot and stuffed in a defensive attitude, and perched among some grass seed, rice, or other food, on the same platform as the trap-cage.  This is taken to the fields or near the orangeries, and placed in so open a situation, that it would be difficult for a living bird of any species to fly over it, without observing it.  The trap is set.  A male Painted Finch passes, perceives it, and dives towards the stuffed bird, with all the anger which its little breast can contain.  It alights on the edge of the trap for a moment, and throwing its body against the stuffed bird, brings down the trap, and is made prisoner.  In this manner, thousands of these birds are caught every spring.  So pertinacious are they in their attacks, that even when the trap has closed upon them, they continue pecking at the feathers of the supposed rival.  The approach of man seems to allay its anger in a moment.

. . . they may be observed in spring time, in little groups of four, five or six, fighting together, moving round each other to secure an advantageous position, pecking and pulling at each other’s feathers with all the violence and animosity to which their small degree of strength can give effect.

. . . The Chicaksaw Wild Plum, on a twig of which I have represented a group of these birds, is found growing abundantly in the country where the birds occur.  It is a small shrub, the fruit of which is yellow when ripe, and excellent eating.”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 279-281 [excerpted].

“Our Goatsuckers, although possessed of great power of wing, are particularly attached to certain districts and localities.  The species now under consideration is seldom observed beyond the limits of the Choctaw Nation in the State of Mississippi, or the Carolinas, on the shores of the Atlantic, and may with propriety be looked upon as the southern species of the United States.  Louisiana, Florida, the lower portions of Alabama and Georgia, are the parts in which it most abounds; and there it makes its appearance early in spring, coming over from Mexico, and probably still warmer climates.

About the middle of March, the forests of Louisiana are heard to echo with the well-known notes of this interesting bird.  No sooner has the sun disappeared, and the nocturnal insects emerge from their burrows, than the sounds, “chuck-will’s-widow,” repeated with great clearness and power six or seven times in as many seconds, strike the ear of every individual, bringing to the mind a pleasure mingled with a certain degree of melancholy, which I have often found very soothing.  The sounds of the Goatsucker, at all events, forebode a peaceful and calm night, and I have more than once thought, are conducive to lull the listener to repose.

. . .The Chuck-will’s-widow manifests a strong antipathy towards all snakes, however harmless they may be.  Although these birds cannot in any way injure the snakes, they alight near them on all occasions, and try to frighten them away, by opening their prodigious mouth, and emitting a strong hissing murmur.  It was after witnessing one of these occurrences, which took place at early twilight, that the idea of representing these birds in such an occupation struck me.  The beautiful little snake, gliding along the dead branch, between two Chuck-will’s widows, a male and a female, is commonly called the Harlequin Snake, and is, I believe, quite harmless.”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 273-276 [excerpted].

“The Red-tailed Hawk is a constant resident in the United States, in every part of which it is found.  It performs partial migrations, during severe winters, from the Northern Districts towards the Southern.  In the latter, however, it is at all times more abundant, and I shall endeavour to present you with a full account of its habits, as observed there.

Its flight is firm, protracted, and at times performed at a great height.  It sails across the whole of a large plantation, on a level with the tops of the forest-trees which surround it, without a single flap of its wings, and is then seen moving its head sideways to inspect the objects below.  This flight is generally accompanied by a prolonged mournful cry, which may be heard at a considerable distance, and consists of a single sound resembling the monosyllable Kae, uttered in such a manner as to continue for three or four minutes, without any apparent inflection or difference of intensity.  It would seem as if uttered for the purpose of giving notice to the living objects below that he is passing, and of thus inducing them to bestir themselves and retreat to a hiding-place, before they attain which he may have an opportunity of pouncing upon some of them . . .

The lively squirrel is seen gaily leaping from one branch to another, or busily employed in searching for the fallen nuts on the ground.  It has found one.  Its bushy tail is beautifully curved along its back, the end of it falling off with a semi-circular bend; its nimble feet are seen turning the nut quickly round, and its teeth are already engaged in perforating the hard shell; when, quick as thought, the Red-tailed Hawk, which has been watching it in all its motions, falls upon it, seizes it near the head, transfixes and strangles it, devours it on the spot, or ascends exultingly to a branch with the yet palpitating victim in his talons, and there feasts at leisure.”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 265-266 [excerpted].

ON DISPLAY THROUGH DECEMBER 7TH

An assortment of sources, all printed in 1812, relating to events and issues around the world, are currently on display to show off the breadth of the Watkinson collection.  There are 39 items grouped into topics (war, religion, literature, science, economics, American travels, world travels).  The image to the left is from a popular edition of an account of the Lewis & Clark expedition.

The following is one of my favorite items in the exhibition:

Robert Southey, Omniana; or Horae otiosiores (London, 1812)

Robert Southey, the son of a linen draper, was born in Bristol in 1774.  After his father’s death an uncle sent him to Westminster School but he was expelled in 1792 after denouncing flogging in the school magazine.  In 1794 Southey met and befriended  Samuel Taylor Coleridge; the two developed radical political and religious views and planned to emigrate to Pennsylvania to set up a commune, which was predictably abandoned.  Southey gradually lost his radical opinions.  In 1807 he was rewarded with an annual allowance by the Tory government, and in 1813 he was appointed poet laureate.  Lord Byron and William Hazlitt accused him of betraying his political principles for money.

Essentially a writer’s notebook, this volume is comprised of 246 broad-ranging anecdotes derived from observation and reading—including such topics as “Mexican tennis,” chess, biography (deploring the “sharking booksellers” who dissect a “great” man’s life immediately on his death), stationers in Spain, and longevity.  The contents are always surprising, shedding light on contemporary concerns, and displaying the ironic wit and curiosity of the poet.

“This little bird was by mistake engraved, and named after my friend W. Swainson, Esq., during my absence from London, one drawing having been accidentally substituted for another.  It is in reality the young of the Black and Yellow Warbler, and was intended to form part of the Plate which will represent the adult male and female of that species.  My good friend will, I know, excuse this mistake, as I have honoured a beautiful new species with his name.

… you will permit me, kind reader, to postpone the habits of this species until you see the whole group together.”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 260 [excerpted].

“The Blue-green Warbler has a peculiar cunning manner of leaning downwards to view a person, or while searching for an insect, and which is very different from that of any other bird, although I am unable to describe it.  While thus leaning, it moves its head sideways so very slowly that the motion is hardly perceptible, unless much attention is paid to it.  After this, it either starts off and flies to some distance from the observer, or darts towards the prey that had attracted its notice.  While catching an insect on the wing, it produces a slight clicking sound with its bill, and in this respect approaches the Vireos.  Like some of them also, it descends from the highest tops of the trees to low bushes, and eats small berries, particularly towards autumn, when insects begin to fail . . .

The plant on which I have figured a male is found in Louisiana, growing along the skirts of woods and by fences.  It is called the Spanish Mulberry.  It is a herbaceous perennial plant, attaining a height of from four to eight feet.  The fruits are eaten by children, but are insipid.”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 258-259 [excerpted].

“So scarce is this bird in the Middle Districts, that its discovery in the State of Pennsylvania has been made a matter of much importance.  Its habits are consequently very little known, even at the present day, and it would appear that only two individuals have been seen by our American ornithologists, one of which, a young female, has been figured by the Prince of Musignano. …

I have no precise recollection of the time when I first made a drawing of this pretty little bird, but know this well, that a drawing which I had of it was one of the unfortunate collection destroyed by the rats at Henderson.”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 255 [excerpted].

” . . . No sooner has the returning sun again introduced the vernal season, and caused millions of plants to expand their leaves and blossoms to his genial beams, than the little Humming Bird is seen advancing on fairy wings, carefully visiting every opening flower-cup, and, like a curious florist, removing from each the injurious insects that otherwise would ere long cause their beauteous petals to droop and decay.  Poised in the air, it is observed peeping cautiously, and with sparkling eye, into their innermost recesses, whilst the ethereal motions of its pinions, so rapid and so light, appear to fan and cool the flower, without injuring its fragile texture, and produce a delightful murmuring sound, well adapted for lulling the insects to repose.  Its long delicate bill enters the cup of the flower, and the protruded, double-tubed tongue, delicately sensible, and imbued with a glutinous saliva, touches each insect in succession, and draws it from its lurking place, to be instantly swallowed . . .

I have represented ten of these pretty and most interesting birds, in various positions, flitting, feeding, caressing each other, or sitting on the slender stalks of the Trumpet-flower and pluming themselves.  The diversity of action and attitude thus exhibited, may, I trust, prove sufficient to present a faithful idea of their appearance and manners.”

–J. J. Audubon, Ornithological Biography, I (1831), 248-253 [excerpted].