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John Muir - The Man
John Muir - farmer, inventor, sheepherder, naturalist, explorer, writer, and conservationist was born April 21, 1838 in the small coastal town of Dunbar, Scotland. At an early age, his dominating spirit led him to discover a love for the serenity, tranquility and magnificence of nature, as it existed in its pure, pristine setting.
A curious lad, he often slipped away to examine life in the wilderness, exploring the broad meadows and green fields of Scotland to its majestic blue-green seashore.
John Muir was only eleven when he emigrated to the United States, but his persona, his affectionate devotion to nature, was already deeply engrained. Muir became intimately familiar with the identification of the birds and flowers of Southern Wisconsin.
Since
he left Scotland, Muir did not have an opportunity for formal schooling. At
home, on his own, in between his farming duties, he succeeded in mastering
algebra, geometry, and trigonometry. He also read Scott's novels and the volumes
of a number of the poets, including Shakespeare and Milton. Thereafter,
he attended the State University at
Madison where young Muir attended Professor Ezra Slocum Carr's classes in
natural sciences and chemistry from 1861-62. While at the
University, Muir formed a lasting friendship with his professor and his wife,
Jeanne C. Carr, whom Muir considered a second mother.
In 1863, Muir left the routine monotony of University study and journeyed on a foot voyage through Wisconsin, Iowa and Illinois, eventually ending up in Canada.
On Sunday, the 1st of September, 1867, two years after the end of the Civil War and the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln, John Muir said good-bye also to his Indianapolis friends. He went by rail to Jeffersonville, where he spent the night. The next morning he crossed the river and walked through to Louisville. Muir later wrote:
"I was a few miles south of Louisville when I planned my journey. I spread out my map under a tree and made up my mind to go through Kentucky, Tennessee, and Georgia to Florida, thence to Cuba, thence to some part of South America. "
He then struck southward through the State of Kentucky continuing his pursuit of nature by walking a thousand miles to the Gulf of Mexico covering about twenty-five miles a day.
A sickness overtook him in Florida, probably of a malarial kind, although he describes it under different names. It was, no doubt, a misfortune in itself, and a severe test for his vigorous constitution. But it was also a blessing in disguise, inasmuch as it prevented him from carrying out his foolhardy plan of penetrating the tropical jungles of South America along the Andes to a tributary of the Amazon, and then floating down the river on a raft to the Atlantic. Engaging passage for twenty-five dollars, Muir sailed into Havana Bay aboard the schooner "Island Belle." In sharp contrast to the wilderness he loved, Muir describes his first visit to shore.
"We jumped into the boat and a couple of sailors pulled us to the thronged, noisy wharf. It was Sunday afternoon [Doubtless January 12, 1868] , the noisiest day of a Havana week. Cathedral bells and prayers in the forenoon, theaters and bullfight bells and bellowings in the afternoon! Lowly whispered prayers to the saints and the Virgin, followed by shouts of praise or reproach to bulls and matadors! I made free with fine oranges and bananas and many other fruits. Pineapple I had never seen before.
The streets of Havana are crooked, labyrinthic, and exceedingly narrow. The sidewalks are only about a foot wide. A traveler experiences delightful relief when, heated and wearied by rains through the breadth of the dingy yellow town, dodging a way through crowds of men and mules and lumbering carts and carriages, he at length finds shelter in the spacious, dust-less, cool, flowery squares; still more when, emerging from all the din and darkness of these lanelike streets, he suddenly finds himself out in the middle of the harbor, inhaling full-drawn breaths of the sea breezes.
Wandered about the narrow streets, stunned with the babel of strange sounds and sights; went gazing, also, among the gorgeously flowered garden squares, and then waited among some boxed merchandise until our captain, detained by business, arrived. Was glad to escape to our little schooner Belle again, weary and heavy laden with excitement and tempting fruits.
I never saw elsewhere people so neatly and becomingly dressed. The proud best-family Cubans may fairly be called beautiful are under rather than oversized with features exquisitely moulded, and set off with silks and broadcloth in excellent taste. Strange that their amusements should be so coarse. Bullfighting, brain-splitting bell-ringing, and the most piercing artificial music appeal to their taste."
It seemed hard to leave Cuba thus unseen and un-walked, but illness forbade his stay since his health was not improving. After a month on the Island, John Muir attempted to book passage to South America. He felt it strange that such a trip should ever enter the dreams of any person, however enthusiastic and full of youthful daring, particularly under his disadvantages of poor health and possessing funds less than a hundred dollars.
After visiting all the shipping agencies, Muir could not find a vessel of any sort bound for South America, and so he revised his plans. Resting in one of the Havana gardens, Muir noticed in a New York paper an advertisement of cheap fares to California. At this time none of the California ships touched at Cuba so Muir decided to go North to the longed-for cold weather of New York, and thence to the forests and mountains of California. There, Muir thought, he could find health and new plants and mountains, and after a year or so he could carry out his Amazon plans.
Captain Parsons of the "Island Belle" pointed out a trim, all-oak schooner loaded with oranges that was leaving for New York the next morning. He told Muir that those little fruiters are fast sailers. Muir contacted the captain and he agreed to carry Muir to New York for twenty-five dollars but advised Muir that he had to see the American consul to get permission to leave on his ship." Muir went to the city, but was unable to find the consul, whereupon he was determined to sail for New York without any formal leave. Vessels leaving the harbor are stopped at the Morro Castle to have their clearance papers examined; in particular, to see that no runaway slaves were being carried away. The officials came alongside the little ship and as Muir's name was not on the ship's papers, he hid below, out of sight. Satisfied by a glance at the consul's clearance paper, and with the declaration of the captain the he didn't have any Negroes aboard, they cleared the ship to sail for New York.
Muir writes about this passage:
"The tar-scented community of a ship is a study in itself -- a despotism on the small territory of a few drifting planks pinned together. But as our crew consisted only of four sailors, a mate, and the captain, there were no signs of despotism. We all dined at one table, enjoying our fine store of salt mackerel and plum duff, with endless abundance of oranges. Not only was the hold of our little ship filled with loose, unboxed oranges, but the deck also was filled up level with the rails, and we had to walk over the top of the golden fruit on boards.
Flocks of flying fishes often flew across the ship, one or two occasionally falling among the oranges. These the sailors were glad to capture to sell in New York as curiosities, or to give away to friends. But the captain had a large Newfoundland dog who got the largest share of these unfortunate fishes. He used to jump from a dozing sleep as soon as he heard the fluttering of their wings, then pounce and feast leisurely on them before the sailors could reach the spot where they fell.
We were now, on the twelfth day, approaching New York, the big ship metropolis. We were in sight of the coast all day. The leafless trees and the snow appeared wonderfully strange. It was now about the end of February and snow covered the ground nearly to the water's edge. Arriving, as we did, in this rough winter weather from the intense heat and general tropical luxuriance of Cuba, the leafless, snow-white woods of New York struck us with all the novelty and impressiveness of a new world. A frosty blast was sweeping seaward from Sandy Hook. The sailors explored their wardrobes for their long-cast-off woolens, and pulled the ropes and managed the sails while muffled in clothing to the rotundity of Eskimos. For myself, long burdened with fever, the frosty wind, as it sifted through my loosened bones, was more delicious and grateful than ever was a spring-scented breeze. "
After landing in New York, Muir consulting the newspapers and found that the first ship, the Nebraska, sailed for Aspinwall in ten days. He booked passage for forty dollars. In the mean time Muir wandered about the city and felt completely lost in the vast throngs of people, the noise of the streets, and the immense size of the buildings. Often he thought he would like to explore the city if, like a lot of wild hills and valleys, it was clear of inhabitants.
Muir wrote about his passage to Panama and journey across the Isthmus:
"There was a savage contrast between life in the steerage and my fine home on the little ship fruiter. Never before had I seen such a barbarous mob, especially at meals. Arrived at Aspinwall-Colon, we had half a day to ramble about before starting across the Isthmus. Never shall I forget the glorious flora, especially for the first fifteen or twenty miles along the Chagres River. The riotous exuberance of great forest trees, glowing in purple, red, and yellow flowers, far surpassed anything I had ever seen, especially of flowering trees, either in Florida or Cuba. I gazed from the car-platform enchanted. I fairly cried for joy and hoped that sometime I should be able to return and enjoy and study this most glorious of forests to my heart's content. We reached San Francisco about the first of April."
The
next day, Muir took the ferry across the Bay from San Francisco to
Oakland. In the
company of a young Englishman Muir walked southward through the Santa Clara Valley to Pacheco Pass, through that pass to the San Joaquin Valley, across the Valley
to Yosemite, and the wilderness of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. There he forged a lasting love for the magnificent beauty of
Yosemite. From the Sierra Nevada's he corresponded regularly with the Carrís
proclaiming California his home. In
the summer of 1869, the Carrís moved to Oakland where his old professor
accepted a professorship at the University of California.
By
autumn of 1871 Muir found existing glaciers in the Sierra and conceived his
controversial theory that Yosemite Valley had been carved out by ancient
glaciation.
Mrs.
Carr began singing Muirís praises to her friends and prophesying a brilliant
future for him as a naturalist and writer.
Impressed by Muirís letters and diaries describing his wanderings
through Yosemite, she was instrumental in urging Muir to seriously consider
authorship by continually lauding his literary powers.
No doubt another significant contributing influence on Muir was Ralph Waldo Emerson who,
in May 1871, came to Yosemite to ride with him through the Sierraís forests and camp
beneath the grove of big tree of the Mariposa.
Emerson and Muir never met again, although they corresponded frequently
during the last eleven years of Emersonís life.
Muir began to publish articles in leading magazines by 1872 and in 1874, Muir wrote a series of articles entitled "Studies in the Sierra" which furthered his career as a successful writer.
In the summer of 1875
the famed naturalist
ascended from the floor of Eaton Canyon, up past the beautiful water falls
to the summit of Mount Wilson. His description of the San Gabriel
Mountains was
first printed for Century Magazine in July 1882 as "The Bee-Pastures
of California," and later published in 1894 as Chapter XVI of his book,
"The Mountains of California." In a letter, Muir describes the
mountains as rugged, thorny, with steep slopes and rigidly inaccessible.
However, he describes the waterfall in Eaton's Canyon as the "Yosemite of
San Gabriel."
By 1877 Ezra and Jeannie Carr had moved to Pasadena where they retired. They purchased a tract of land, which extended from North Fair Oaks Avenue to North Orange Grove Avenue. Their home, ìCarmelita,î was located on the corner of Orange Grove and Colorado Street. John Muir made many visits to "Carmelita," and never came without bringing a shoot of a tree or a plant of some kind for her gardens.
Jeannie
Carr also played Muir's cupid by introducing him to Louie Wanda
Strentzel.
In
1880, at the age of 42, Muir and the 33 year old Miss Strentzel were
married. They moved to
Martinez, California, where they raised their two daughters, Wanda and Helen
In
later years he turned more seriously to writing, publishing 300 articles and 10
major books that recounted his travels, expounded his naturalist
philosophy, and beckoned everyone to "Climb the mountains and get their
good tidings." Muir's love of the high country gave his writings a
spiritual quality. His readers, whether they be presidents, congressmen, or
plain folks, were inspired and often moved to action by the enthusiasm of Muir's
own unbounded love of nature.
John Muir was a very religious man, although not a member of any established church. He saw evidence of a divine spiritual being everywhere in nature.
In
1892, Muir and a number of his supporters founded the Sierra Club, in Muir's
words, " to do something for wildness and make the mountains glad." Muir
served as the Club's president until his death.
John Muir was 76 years old when he died of pneumonia in a Los Angeles hospital on Christmas Eve day in 1914.
John
Muir was perhaps this country's most famous and influential naturalist and
conservationist and one of the first Americans to realize that forests should be
protected by government decree. He
taught the people of his time and ours the importance of experiencing and
protecting our natural heritage. His words have heightened our perception of
nature. His personal and determined involvement in the great conservation
questions of the day was and remains an inspiration for environmental activists
everywhere.
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