Great Auk (Alca impennis), Volume 4, Plate 341

Painted between 1834 and 1836 in London. Landscape added by Havell, who also completed one of the legs of the birds on the left (which Audubon had outlined only in pencil).

Audubon had never seen a live Great Auk, and neither had Havell. The latter’s brother had, but—in a move not frequently repeated in Audubon’s merciless ornithological universe—then decided to let the bird go: the Auk That Got Away. Thus, there was no bloody story to tell. The bird was gone, refusing to let Audubon insert himself into its life, as he had done with so many other reluctant participants. The resulting image could have been drawn by any of the “closet naturalists” Audubon had maligned throughout his career, were it not for the sharp lines, luminous colors, and crystalline clarity of the water so characteristic of Audubon’s mature style, all of which create a perfect stage for birds that, by that time, probably didn’t exist anywhere else outside an artist’s fertile imagination.

From John James Audubon’s Ornithological Biography

The only authentic account of the occurrence of this bird on our coast that I possess, was obtained from Mr. HENRY HAVELL, brother of my Engraver, who, when on his passage from New York to England, hooked a Great Auk on the banks of Newfoundland, in extremely boisterous weather. On being hauled on board, it was left at liberty on the deck. It walked very awkwardly, often tumbling over, bit every one within reach of its powerful bill, and refused food of all kinds. After continuing several days on board, it was restored to its proper element.

When I was in Labrador, many of the fishermen assured me that the “Penguin,” as they name this bird, breeds on a low rocky island to the south–east of Newfoundland, where they destroy great numbers of the young for bait; but as this intelligence came to me when the season was too far advanced, I had no opportunity of ascertaining its accuracy. In Newfoundland, however, I received similar information from several individuals. An old gunner residing on Chelsea Beach, near Boston, told me that he well remembered the time when the Penguins were plentiful about Nahant and some other islands in the bay.