Digital Galleries : Audubon Collection
![Audubon was fascinated by the clever nest-building habits of the Baltimore Oriole. Named after the coat-of-arms of Lord Baltimore, the Oriole constructs its nest from filaments of dry twigs and Spanish moss. In its southern habitat the nest is left un-insulated to allow wind to pass through and mitigate the heat of the summer months. Traveling farther north into cooler climes, however, Audubon discovered that the bird weaves in added layers to keep the nest warm. [MC]](images/audubon_01.gif)
![Now extinct, the Carolina Parakeet was the parrot native to the eastern United States. Even during Audubon’s time, the parrot’s numbers were declining, writing, “There is not now half the number that existed 15 years ago.” The parrot’s lived in mass flocks that fed on almost any kind of fruit, including the cockle-bur, which, as any person that has wandered through woods can attest, can be a real nuisance. A flock could destroy a crop in little time at all. As land was cleared for cultivation, these birds faced the elimination of their habitat. Making matters worse, when feeding the flock becomes so absorbed that the birds won’t flee even when shot at or killed, leaving them easy targets for farmers who considered them a pest. Hunted for their feathers and captured as pets, by 1904 the last wild Parakeet was killed. [MC]](images/audubon_03.jpg)
![Never shy to attribute human characteristics to birds, Audubon reveled in the behaviors of his subjects, whether ruthless, loving or mischievous. The Grackle was no different. Seen as “nefarious,” Audubon nonetheless admired the place in the world “the Creator” had made for the Grackle. In the planting season the bird would follow the plowman, eating grubs turned up in the fresh soil and prevent the grubs from devouring newly sown corn seeds. In the fall, however, the Grackle would feed on the corn whose growth they made possible. Audubon was well aware of the irony and drama of the situation, “But man is too often forgetful of the benefit which he has received; he permits his, too commonly, weak and selfish feelings to prevail over his reason; and no sooner does the corn become fit for his use own use, than he vows and executes vengeance on all intruders.” [MC]](images/audubon_04.jpg)
![Audubon likened the Ivory-billed woodpecker to the bright paintings of decadent royalty by the Dutch artist Anthony Van Dyck. The ruby red crest of the male has been a prized adornment for all from genteel aristocrats to the indigenous populations of its habitat in the great forests of the antebellum South. More recently, however, its seeker has been the ornithologist. Long believed to have been extinct, a sighting in 2004 has prompted ongoing searches for the bird, but a 2009 expedition by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology found no supportive evidence. Evidence of logging from the 1930s and 1940s in now thriving everglade forests suggests that the Woodpecker’s habitat may have been too devastated in the past to sustain the bird. The search, however is still ongoing for those willing to venture into what even the seasoned naturalist Audubon described as nearly impenetrable swamplands. [MC]](images/audubon_05.jpg)
![In Audubon’s time it was common practice for inns, country homes, and various other residences to put up a box for migrating Martins to nest in after its winter migration. Audubon, likewise, expressed a clear admiration for the bird, taking note of its fortitude in migration, and courage against intruders. Even in the face of wind storms the Martin, which travels in loose flocks of 50 to 150 birds, won’t relent in its migratory journey. Wrote Audubon, “They meet the gust, and appear to slide along the edges of it, as if determined to lose not one inch of what they have gained.” Martins don’t hesitate to attack much larger birds, such as hawks, crows and vultures, if the bird threatens a Martin nest, chasing the predator until it is out of sight. [MC]](images/audubon_06.jpg)
![“Where is the person, I ask, who, on observing this glittering fragment of the rainbow, would not pause, admire, and instantly turn his mind with reverence to the Almighty Creator, the wonders of whose hand we at every step discover…There breathes not such a person!” Audubon wrote. As with many birds, to Audubon, the humming bird was a manifestation of his faith. In this way his dedication to science became, also, a mark of his religious devotion. Contrary to popular notions, the humming bird does not survive solely off the nectar from flowers; rather, it feeds from the insects that are found in the stem of long, tubular flowers, using its tongue and sticky saliva to remove the insects. In this way, observed Audubon, the humming bird preserves the flower from would-be predators. [MC]](images/audubon_07.jpg)
![At the time he was writing, Audubon was amazed by one of the peculiar habits of the Song Sparrow. The song sparrow lays eggs between one and three times a year, resulting in a total of approximately 14 hatchlings. However, unlike other birds, the Song Sparrow would not reuse the same nest twice in one season, building a new nest after every brood. Further adding to Audubon’s confusion was his observation that the Sparrow continued to keep its nest exceptionally clean even after its eggs hatched, up until the time it abandoned the nest. While Audubon never solved the mystery, Cornell Lab of Ornithology reports that the Sparrow now usually lays only one clutch of eggs per season. However, in cases where there is an overabundance of resources or failure with one clutch the sparrow has been known to lay multiple clutches. [MC]](images/audubon_08.jpg)
The Birds of America by John James Audubon
The Birds of America, featuring 435 hand-colored engravings of native American bird species, was the creation of John James Audubon, who spent six years (1820-1826) traveling the wilds of the American continent in search of avian subjects. He drew each of the 489 species in its natural habitat, using such varied media as watercolors, pen, pencil, pastel, oils and egg-white to obtain the full effect of the bird. With these drawings, Audubon returned to England to arrange for publication of his masterpiece.
The printing and distribution itself was done over an eleven-year span, from 1826-1837. Two printing firms were contracted: that of W.H. Lizars of Edinburgh produced the first ten plates, while Robert Havell Junior and Senior of London were responsible for the overwhelming remainder. Each of Audubon’s species was engraved into a copper plate (life-sized), and then printed onto high-quality Whatman rag paper before being hand-colored with watercolors and other media. Audubon’s requirement that life-sized prints were necessary prompted the use of was what at that time the largest size page available: 29½ by 39½ inches, a “double elephant folio.”
Approximately 200 complete sets of The Birds of America double elephant folio were distributed to subscribers, at the then-hefty price of $1,000 apiece. Of the original sets, approximately 135 are known to remain in existence. Union’s copy was purchased directly from Audubon: when the naturalist visited campus in July 1844, President Eliphalet Nott arranged for the delivery of a complete set of the engravings, which arrived from England less than a year later. For many years they were neglected: a 1908 “Forest and Stream” article reveals that “they lay dust-covered and neglected in a portion of the library accessible to all,” and before 1922 they were re-discovered languishing in the attic of what is now known as Old Chapel. The four volumes are now housed in Schaffer Library’s Special Collections section.