When he was an old man he paid a visit to America. In two widely separated places, attracted by the country, he bought land. One estate was on Perkiomen Creek, near Philadelphia; the other was in Louisiana.

In Louisiana he spent much of his time; and there, on May 4, 1780,[2]

his son, John James Audubon, was born.

Commodore Audubon wanted his son to be a seaman, and he took him to France that he might be educated for the navy. But the boy's tastes were in another direction altogether. One of the teachers provided for him was an artist, who gave him lessons in drawing that were intended as a part of his training for the profession the father had chosen for him. But the boy put it to a use of his own. On his holidays he used to take a lunch into the country, and would return loaded down with all kinds of natural history specimens. These he would preserve in a cabinet of his own devising, and drawings of many of them would be made and treasured.

Commodore Audubon was not pleased with his son's habits, and he thought he would give him something to do that would distract his mind. The estate in Pennsylvania needed a superintendent. So he sent the would-be naturalist to America, with instructions to look after the estate.

But the wild woods about Philadelphia offered so many opportunities for tramping and nature investigation that the estate was neglected.

The house on the estate, Mill Grove, which is still standing, is near the mouth of the Perkiomen. Along this pleasing stream he could ramble for hours, with his gun or his fishing rod or his collecting instruments. Before long the attic room which he occupied was a treasure house of birds and animals and natural-history specimens. He was his own taxidermist. He would do his work seated at a window that looks toward the Valley Forge country, where Washington spent the winter of 1777-78 with his faithful soldiers. The marks of his work are still to be seen on the old boards beneath the window. These boards came from the sawmill on the estate which gave the house its name.

Here in this attic room the young naturalist dreamed of making careful, accurate drawings of all the birds of America. He knew that this would be a difficult matter, but he was not deterred by thought of hardship and poverty.

While he was dreaming of what he would do for the world, something was happening in London that was to have an effect on his life. An official named Bakewell refused to be silent about a matter that the king felt should be forgotten. Bakewell was a conscientious man, and he did not feel that silence would be proper. The king rebuked him, and he resigned his office. At once he made up his mind to leave England and make a home in America, taking with him his wife and daughter.

After many investigations, he found an estate near Philadelphia that pleased him--Fatlands, on the Schuylkill, near the Perkiomen, so named because every year the latter stream overflows and deposits rich sediment on the surrounding lands. The mansion house at Fatlands was built in 1774, and there Washington as well as the British commander had been entertained by the Quaker owner who felt that he could not show partiality. Here the English immigrant made his home.

Of course Audubon heard of the coming of the strangers to the house across the road, not half a mile from his own quarters. But he did not go to call on them. He was French and they were English; he felt sure they would be undesirable acquaintances, and that he had better keep to the woods and follow his own pursuits, without reference to others.

Then came a day when he was having a delightful stroll through the woods. He was carrying specimens of many kinds. A stranger, also a hunter, encountered him and made a remark about his burden that touched a responsive chord. Soon the two were on good terms. "You must come and see me," the stranger said. The invitation was accepted with alacrity. Then came the question, "Where do you live?" To his surprise, Audubon heard that this pleasing man was his new neighbor at Fatlands.

Deciding that an Englishman was not so bad, after all, he made it convenient to call very soon. Then when he saw Mary Bakewell, the daughter of the house, he was sure he liked the English. She showed great sympathy for his pursuits, and he liked to talk with her about them. Before long she decided to help him in his great life work, the American ornithology.

The marriage was postponed because of the death of Mrs. Bakewell, who pined away, homesick for her native England. But the time came when, on April 8, 1808, the two nature lovers became husband and wife. Then they began the long wanderings in the West and the South, the fruit of which was what has been called one of the most wonderful ornithological treatises ever made, Audubon's "Birds of America."

Mr. and Mrs. Audubon floated down the Ohio River, spent a season in Kentucky and Missouri, had narrow escapes from the Indians, and finally found their way to Louisiana. There for a time the wife supported herself by teaching at the home of a planter. Friends and acquaintances thought the husband was a madman to continue his quest of birds when his family was in straitened circ.u.mstances. But Mrs.

Audubon believed in him, urged him to go to Europe and study painting in oils, that he might be better equipped for the preparation of his bird plates. She secured a good situation as teacher at Bayou Sara, and was soon enjoying an income of three thousand dollars a year.

Finally, with some of his own savings, as well as some of his wife's funds, he went to England, where he was well received. Plans were made to publish the bird plates, with descriptive matter, at one thousand dollars per set. He had to have one hundred advance subscribers. These he secured by personal solicitation.

At last the work was issued. Cuvier called it "the most magnificent work that art ever raised to ornithology."

Many years later, Audubon, after the death of his wife, returned to the scenes of his early life as a naturalist. "Here is where I met my dear Mary," he said, with glistening eyes, as he looked into one of the rooms of the old mansion.

Mill Grove was built in 1762. Five years after Audubon's marriage the estate was bought by Samuel Wetherill, the grandfather of the present owner, W. H. Wetherill.

Fatlands, which is one of the most beautiful old houses in the vicinity of Philadelphia, was built in 1774. During the Revolution it was occupied by a Quaker named Vaux, who entertained many officers of both armies. It is related that one day General Howe, the British commander, was entertained at breakfast, while Washington was in the house for tea the same evening.

The house was rebuilt in 1843, on the old foundations, according to the original plan.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WAYNESBOROUGH, NEAR PAOLI, PENNA.

_Photo by H. C. Howland_ See page 192]

XLII

WAYNESBOROUGH, NEAR PAOLI, PENNSYLVANIA

THE HOME OF "MAD ANTHONY" WAYNE

Captain Isaac Wayne, who commanded a company at the Battle of the Boyne, came from Ireland to Pennsylvania in 1722. Two years later he bought sixteen acres of land in Chester County and built Waynesborough.

His son Isaac, who was a captain in the French and Indian War, enlarged the mansion in 1765. While a wing was added in 1812, it presents much the same appearance to-day as it did at the time Anthony Wayne left it to go to war with General Washington, even to the crooked hood above the entrance door. The present owner, William Wayne, is as unwilling as were his ancestors to have this hood straightened.

On the front of the house is a tablet which reads:

The Home of General Anthony Wayne, Born in this House, January 1, 1745.

Died at Erie, Pennsylvania, December 15, 1796.

A Leader of the American Revolution in Pennsylvania and a soldier distinguished for his Services at Brandywine, Germantown, Valley Forge, Monmouth, Stony Point, and Yorktown.

Subdued the Indians of Ohio, 1794.

Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army 1792-1796.

Marked by the Chester County Historical Society.

To this record the statement might have been added that General Lafayette visited the home of his old commander when he was in the United States in 1824. Reverently the General bowed his head in Wayne's favorite sitting-room, to the right of the entrance hall, where nothing had been disturbed since the death of the patriot. The furnishings and ornaments of the room are the same to-day as then.

Anthony Wayne was a delegate to several of the conventions which took the preliminary steps leading to the Revolutionary War. In 1775 he was a member of the Committee of Safety, and in the same year he organized a regiment of "minute men" in Chester County.

His first active service was as colonel with troops sent to Canada in January, 1776, and from November, 1776, to April, 1777, as commander of twenty-five hundred men at Ticonderoga. "It was my business to prevent a junction of the enemy's armies and ... to keep at bay their whole Canadian force," he wrote in a private letter.

Here, in the midst of difficulties with soldiers who wanted to desert, he heard that the British were threatening Waynesborough. But, like a true soldier, he stuck to his work, and urged his wife to be brave.

"Should you be necessitated to leave East-town, I doubt not but you'll meet with hospitality in the back parts of the Province," he wrote to her.

His fidelity and resourcefulness were recognized in February, 1777, by a commission as brigadier general. Washington, who was then in New Jersey, wrote to him a little later, saying that his presence with him was "materially needed," to guard the country between West Point and Philadelphia. And when the British fleet sailed out of New York Harbor, Washington sent him to Chester, to organize the militia of Pennsylvania. A few weeks later he was in charge of a division at Brandywine. Historians say that his steadfastness on the left prevented the advance of Knyphausen, and saved the right from entire destruction.

Less than a week later, within a mile of his own house, he was surprised by the enemy near Paoli, in consequence, it is said, of the act of an inn-keeper who betrayed Wayne's presence to the British. The result was the only defeat of his brilliant career. Eighty of his men were killed. The engagement has been called "the Paoli Ma.s.sacre,"

because of the conduct of the victors. Wayne escaped. A squad of soldiers searched for him at Waynesborough. When they could not find him in the house, they thrust their bayonets into the great boxwood bush that is still to be seen in the rear of the mansion.

Because some said that the General was responsible for the defeat, he demanded a court-martial. The court-martial was held soon after, and he was acquitted with the highest honor, and was declared to be "an active, brave, and vigilant officer."

Washington's letters and orderly book are full of references to Wayne.

He was a trusted commander, and his advice was followed many times. He it was who first proposed that the army should "hut" during the winter of 1776-77, some twenty miles from Philadelphia. He was always eager to do his Commander's bidding. On one occasion, when he was in Philadelphia, on his way to greet his family, he was met by a fast rider who handed him a despatch in which Washington said, "I request that you join the army as soon as you can."

During his long absence from Waynesborough his wife Polly and his children were continually in his thoughts. Once he wrote:

"I am not a little anxious about the education of our girl and boy. It is full time that Peggy should be put to dancing school. How does she improve in her writing and reading? Does Isaac take learning freely? Has he become fond of school?"

Just before the storming of Stony Point, he prepared for death, sending to a friend a letter which was not to be opened until the author was dead. The letter said:

"I know that your friendship will induce you to attend to the education of my little son and daughter. I fear that their mother will not survive this stroke. Do go to her."

On the way up the mount he was grievously wounded and fell senseless.

Soon he roused himself and cried, "Lead me forward.... Let me die in the fort." Several hours later he was able to send word to Washington, "The fort and garrison are ours."

In this spirit he served through the war. And when the action was won he continued to fight for his country. On February 6, 1796, Claypool's _Daily American Advertiser_ told of his return from his successful campaign against the Indians of Ohio:

"Four miles from the city, he was met by the entire Troop of Philadelphia Light Horse, and escorted by them to town. On his crossing the Schuylkill, a salute of fifteen guns was fired from the Centre-square, by a party of Artillery. He was ushered into the city by the ringing of bells and other demonstrations of joy."

[Ill.u.s.tration: MORAVIAN CHURCH, BETHLEHEM, PENNA.

_Photo by Rev. A. D. Therelar, Bethlehem_ See page 196]