Audubon the Naturalist: A History of His Life and Time. Vol. 1 (of 2)Herrick, Francis Hobart
History
Audubon the Naturalist: A History of His Life and Time. Vol. 1 (of 2)
Herrick, Francis Hobart
Audubon, John James, 1785-1851
[Illustration: "MILL GROVE" IN 1835, SHOWING THE MILLS ON THE BANK OF
PERKIOMING CREEK, THE FARMHOUSE, AND THE OLD SMELTING WORKS (BUILT
BY SAMUEL WETHERILL), THEN IN DISUSE.
After a water-color painting by Charles Wetherill, son of
Samuel Wetherill, and uncle of William H. Wetherill, the
present owner of the estate.]
[Illustration: "MILL GROVE" AS IT APPEARS TO-DAY.
The above from photograph by, and this published by courtesy
of, Mr. W. H. Wetherill.]
Audubon thought nothing of walking to and from Philadelphia when no
conveyance was at hand, but to-day the railroad brings the traveler
within a mile and a half of his old farm. Not far to the south, beyond
the present railway station of Protectory, lies Valley Forge and the
wooded hills where Washington's ragged veterans passed in log huts
the ever memorable winter of 1777-8. Audubon fancied that his father
had made the acquaintance of General Washington at that date, but this
was eleven years before the place had come into the possession of his
family, and at that time Captain Audubon was sailing the seas (see
Chapter II, p. 32). Equally fanciful also was the idea that his mother
had once lived there, which he expressed in a letter (quoted in full
in Chapter XXXIII) written from New York on February 10, 1842, to young
Spencer F. Baird, at Carlisle, Pennsylvania. The naturalist was assuring
his young friend that the slow but beautiful "Little Carlisle" was to
be preferred to "Great New York, with all its humbug, rascality, and
immorality," and added: "It is now a good long time since I was young,
and resided near Norristown in Pennsylvania. It was then and is now a
very indifferent place as compared with New York; but still my heart and
my mind oftentime dwell in the pleasure that I felt there, and it always
reminds me that within a few miles of that village, my Mother did live."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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