102 THE CONDOR 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL NOTES 
By HENRY WETHERBEE HENSHAW 
WITH PORTRAIT 
PREFACE 
HE FOLLOWING notes have been prepared at the request of the Editor 
of The Condor for publication in that journal. While not to be regarded 
as a complete autobiography, they touch upon the main incidents and 
activities of the author’s life, particularly his ornithological work in the far 
west, the chief field of interest of the journal in which they are to appear. 
Their principal value to the reader will come from the side lights they may 
throw on the character and work of the men—some well known and others 
searcely known at all—whom the author has been privileged to meet, and also 
the knowledge they may confer on the intimate personal history of times long 
past and now existent in the memories only of the very few. 
Judging from his own tastes and present experience the author is of the 
opinion that the writing of autobiographies will never become a popular form 
of amusement. Nevertheless, fresh as he is from the difficulties attending the 
fixing of dates and events belonging to the dim past, he cannot but feel that, 
regardless of their own preferences, scientific men, if no others, owe this duty 
to their own and future times—a duty not to be lightly thrust aside. 
February 8, 1919. 
ae 
EARLY LIFE 
As a man’s career in the world is more or less closely connected with the 
place of his nativity, I may as well state at the outset that I was born in 
Cambridgeport, Massachusetts, March 3, 1850, the last of seven children. The 
windows of our house overlooked the marshes and tidal basin of the river 
Charles, and from it was visible the dome of the Boston State House. Thus I 
may fairly claim to be a Yankee by birth, and, as every genuine Yankee is 
wont to trace his ancestry back to the Mayflower, I may boldly claim the same 
distinction, at least on my mother’s side. 
It is often said of one who displays special aptitude for a particular pur- 
suit or calling, as artist, musician, lawyer or what not, that he is born to il, 
meaning, perhaps, that his tastes and abilities are inherited. If there be any 
truth in the saying, it would seem to apply with special force to the naturalist, 
although I do not doubt that his tastes, even if inherited, are greatly strength- 
ened or modified by particular environment or circumstances. 
For myself, I seem to have inherited directly from my mother my love of 
nature and my desire to study her ways. Though no naturalist and with little or © 
no exact knowledge of any branch of natural history, she possessed, neverthe- 
less, an innate love of nature and a sympathy for all her creatures. From her 
I received my first lessons as an observer when she used to direct my attention — 
