John James Audubon painted this illustration of a "great white heron." Plato, his "retrieving Newfoundland," fetched the first specimens of this species that Audubon encountered. However, this species is no longer considered valid. Great white herons are a white subspecies of the great blue heron that is endemic to South Florida.
Today is John James Audubon’s 226th birthday. If you use Google today, the site’s logo celebrates Audubon’s legacy.
Audubon is known for his wonderful paintings and books about the wildlife of North America. He was among the first to fully and accurately catalog our native birds both his writing and his art.
One of the most respected conservation societies is named in his honor– The National Audubon Society.
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Now for some biased Audubon lore: Audubon was a retrieverman.
His most notable dog was a “Newfoundland’ named Plato.
The dog had been given to him by a physician, for it was well-established that Aududon would need a retriever on his forays. To get such anatomically correct depictions of birds, Audubon shot his subjects.
The dog was of great use in Florida, hauling out scores of cayenne terns. However, he is probably best known for fetching two young great white herons, one of which was not particularly thrilled with being carried by a retriever:
On the 24th of April, 1832, I landed on Indian Key in Florida, and immediately after formed an acquaintance with Mr. Egan. He it was who first gave me notice of the species which forms the subject of this article, and of which I cannot find any description. The next day after that of my arrival, when I was prevented from accompanying him by my anxiety to finish a drawing, he came in with two young birds alive, and another lying dead in a nest, which he had cut off from a mangrove. You may imagine how delighted I was, when at the very first glance I felt assured that they were different from any that I had previously seen. The two living birds were of a beautiful white, slightly tinged with cream-colour, remarkably fat and strong for their age, which the worthy pilot said could not be more than three weeks. The dead bird was quite putrid and much smaller. It looked as if it had accidentally been trampled to death by the parent birds ten or twelve days before, the body being almost flat and covered with filth. The nest with the two live birds was placed in the yard. The young Herons seemed quite unconcerned when a person approached them, although on displaying one’s hand to them, they at once endeavoured to strike it with their bill. My Newfoundland dog, a well-trained and most sagacious animal, was whistled for and came up; on which the birds rose partially on their legs, ruffled all their feathers, spread their wings, opened their bills, and clicked their mandibles in great anger, but without attempting to leave the nest. I ordered the dog to go near them, but not to hurt them. They waited until he went within striking distance, when the largest suddenly hit him with its bill, and hung to his nose. Plato, however, took it all in good part, and merely brought the bird towards me, when I seized it by the wings, which made it let go its hold. It walked off as proudly as any of its tribe, and I was delighted to find it possessed of so much courage. These birds were left under the charge of Mrs. Egan, until I returned from my various excursions to the different islands along the coast ( pg. 110-111).
Plato would also guide Audubon and his party through a vicious Florida storm:
Early one morning I hired a boat and two men, with the view of returning to St Augustine by a short cut. Our baggage being placed on board, I bade adieu to the officers, and off we started. About four in the afternoon we arrived at the short cut, forty miles distant from our point of departure, and where we had expected to procure a waggon, but were disappointed. So we laid our things on the bank, and, leaving one of my assistants to look after them, I set out, accompanied by the other, and my Newfoundland dog. We had eighteen miles to go ; and as the sun was only two hours high, we struck off at a good rate. Presently we entered a pine barren. The country was as level as a floor ; our path, although narrow, was well beaten, having been used by the Seminole Indians for ages, and the weather was calm and beautiful. Now and then a rivulet occurred, from which we quenched our thirst, while the magnolias and other flowering plants on its banks relieved the dull uniformity of the woods. When the path separated into two branches, both seemingly leading the same way, I would follow one, while my companion took the other, and unless we met again in a short time, one of us would go across the intervening forest.
The sun went down behind a cloud, and the south-east breeze that sprung up at this moment, sounded dolefully among the tall pines. Along the eastern horizon lay a bed of black vapour, which gradually rose, and soon covered the heavens. The air felt hot and oppressive, and we knew that a tempest was approaching. Plato was now our guide, the white spots on his skin being the only objects that we could discern amid the darkness, and as if aware of his utility in this respect, he kept a short way before us on the trail. Had we imagined ourselves more than a few miles from the town, we would have made a camp, and remained under its shelter for the night; but conceiving that the distance could not be great, we resolved to trudge along.
Large drops began to fall from the murky mass overhead -, thick, inpenetrable darkness surrounded us, and to my dismay, the dog refused to proceed. Groping with my hands on the ground, I discovered that several trails branched out at the spot where he lay down; and when I had selected one, he went on. Vivid flashes of lightning streamed across the heavens, the wind increased to a gale, and the rain poured down upon us like a torrent. The water soon rose on the level ground so as almost to cover our feet, and we slowly advanced, fronting the tempest. Here and there a tall pine on fire presented a magnificent spectacle, illumining the trees around it, and surrounded with a halo of dim light, abruptly bordered with the deep black of the night. At one time we passed through a tangled thicket of low trees, at another crossed a stream flushed by the heavy rain, and again proceeded over the open barrens.
How long we thus, half-lost, groped our way, is more than I can tell you ; but at length the tempest passed over, and suddenly the clear sky became spangled with stars. Soon after we smelt the salt-marshes, and walking directly towards them, like pointers advancing on a covey of partridges, we at last to our great joy descried the light of the beacon near St Augustine. My dog began to run briskly around, having met with ground on which he had hunted before, and taking a direct course, led us to the great causeway that crosses the marshes at the back of the town. We refreshed ourselves with the produce of the first orange treethat we met with, and in half an hour more arrived at our hotel. Drenched with rain, steaming with perspiration, and covered to the knees with mud, you may imagine what figures we cut in the eyes of the good people whom we found snugly enjoying themselves in the sitting room. Next morning, Major Gates, who had received me with much kindness, sent a waggon with mules and two trusty soldiers for my companion and luggage ( pg. 294-295).
Although Plato is described as a black and white Newfoundland dog. I think it is more likely that he had been a more of St. John’s type dog. It is not that the larger Newfoundlands weren’t excellent retrievers. The typical nineteenth century dog of the large Newfoundland type was white with black markings, not black with a white spots. The St. John’s breed was usually black with some white markings.
Further, Audubon describes the Newfoundland dog coat when discusses the opossum’s adaptations to the cold in his Missouri River Journals (1843). Opossums are only sparsely furred, but they possess a layer of fat for insulation. Audubon clearly states that the same can be said for the “Newfoundland dog”:
The Newfoundland dog manifests a similar propensity. Having a constitution as hardy as that of the most northern animals, it stands the coldest weather, and does not hibernate, although its covering of fur and hair may be said to be comparatively scanty even during winter. The defect, however, seems to be compensated by a skin of considerable thickness, and a general subcutaneous layer of fat (pg. 501).
Although the coat on a St. John’s water dog was quite dense, it could be described as sparse. I don’t think one could logically make that claim for any of the larger Newfoundland dogs.
One must remember that in the nineteenth century, the line between Newfoundland and retriever was somewhat nebulous. So it is both accurate to call Plato a Newfoundland and a retriever. “Retriever” was just a function, not a breed and many dogs Newfoundland ancestry fit the job.
In his earlier days, Audubon also had a dog that was called a retriever. The dog was a bitch, but she was listed at “Dash–a slut.” Slut is an archaic word that just means bitch, and she would accompany Audubon down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers to New Orleans, fetching shot birds for his paintings.
I cannot say exactly what kind of retriever she was. She may have been nothing more than an improved setter or a cross between a setter and “Newfoundland.” She may have been a water spaniel or water spaniel cross.
Whatever she was, both Plato and Dash were absolute necessities for a shooting naturalist who wanted to collect specimens that could later be used to create the most anatomically correct depictions of their species the world had yet seen.
They were valued in their service in cataloging the North America’s amazing avian fauna. Although they don’t make much mention in Audubon’s writings and he never took the trouble to paint them, it is obvious that he appreciated them very much.
He described Plato as “a well-trained and most sagacious animal,” which is what all retrievers, regardless of their time period or breed, should be.
Well-trained and sagacious.
The naturalist’s dog.
