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Alexander von Humboldt: „Amie Bonpland–The Naturalist“, in: ders., Sämtliche Schriften digital, herausgegeben von Oliver Lubrich und Thomas Nehrlich, Universität Bern 2021. URL: <https://humboldt.unibe.ch/text/1858-Neueste_Nachrichten_ueber-14-neu> [abgerufen am 19.04.2024].
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| Titel | Amie Bonpland–The Naturalist | ||||||
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| Jahr | 1858 | ||||||
| Ort | Boston, Massachusetts; New York City, New York | ||||||
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Nachweis in: Littell’s Living Age 3:22:744 (28. August 1858), S. 717–719.
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| Sprache | Englisch | ||||||
| Typografischer Befund | Antiqua; Spaltensatz; Auszeichnung: Kapitälchen. | ||||||
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Statistiken
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|717|
|Spaltenumbruch|
The death of this person has been recentlyannounced. Some of our older inhabitantswell remember the interest that was felt inhis travels and captivity in Paraguay, aboutforty years ago. The following account ofhim, which is taken from a letter from Berlin,Prussia, published in the Boston Journal,will, with Humboldt’s letter accompanying it,be read with interest: —“Berlin, July 16, 1858.
AMIE BONPLAND—THE NATURALIST.
“Within a few days, letters have been re-ceived in Berlin from Montevideo, bringingpainful rumor that Amie Bonpland, thecelebrated botanist, the beloved friend andfellow-traveller of Alexander Von Humboldt,is no more. Should this rumor be con-firmed, and there is little occasion to ques-tion its truth, Bonpland will have passedaway, after an eventful life of unremitted toiland research in the realm of natural science,at the ripe age of eighty-five; he was stillengaged, up to a short period previous tothe time of his reported death, in arduousagricultural and botanical pursuits. The sor-row which this rumor has diffused throughoutEurope, is but the natural regret which allmen feel when a noble spirit departs fromamong them, and bears no resemblance tothe grief awakened when a man of promiseis cut down in the fullness of strength andexpectation, to disappoint the hopes of theworld. He had done work enough for onelifetime, and leaving mankind a noble legacyof scientific results, has passed away to higherspheres of labor. “Well done!” is thesignet stamp upon the record of his days.“I have obtained from a gentleman of thiscity, who has access to private sources of in-formation, and especially to the correspond-ence between Humboldt and Bonpland, aninteresting sketch of the life of the greatbotanist. To insert the whole of it herewould swell my letter far beyond the pre-scribed limits, and I must content myselfwith such brief references to certain portionsof his eventful history as will serve to illus-trate the touching letter which Humboldtdedicates to the memory of his lifelongfriend.“The intimacy of these two illustrious menbegan during Humboldt’s visit to
Paris inMay, 1798, shortly after Napoleon had sailedfrom Toulon upon
his disastrous expeditionto Egypt. Bonpland was about four yearshis
junior, finely cultivated in his profession,ardent in temperament, and in
him thematurer German found a man after his ownheart. The grand result
of this fortunateacquaintance, was the journey they performedtogether,
during the years 1799—1804,through the American tropics, a
journey|Spaltenumbruch| which has furnished material, besides themore immediate
scientific results, for some ofthe most magnificent descriptive passages
ofthe Cosmos. Humboldt’s letters bear fre-quent witness to the
disinterested affectionand devotion of his fellow traveller, who
inmore than one dangerous adventure displayedthat greatest of all
love, which is willing tosacrifice life itself for its friend. In health
andsickness, in every privation, in every pleasureincident to their
long wanderings, the twofriends were inseparable, and the lonely
forestsof the Amazon and the Orinoco, the intimacywhich began in the
gay capital of Franceripened into friendship, which after half
acentury receives its first interruption by thedeath of Bonpland.“On his return to Europe, Bonpland wasintroduced to Josephine, and by her favor ob-tained the office of Superintendent of theroyal gardens at Malmaison and Navarre.Here, in the sunshine of imperial favor, hepassed the happiest and palmiest days of hislife. But it was in darker days, when thedivorced Empress could no longer distributeroyal patronage, that the true nobleness ofhis character appeared. He remained thefaithful friend of his fallen benefactress, andto him she confided her most secret sorrows.“After Josephine’s death, Bonpland, find-ing no place of repose in Europe, emigratedin 1816 to Buenos Ayres, taking with him alarge number of fruit trees and a variety ofother natural productions. He was therereceived with due honor, and soon afterwardreceived the appointment of Professor ofNatural History. His restless temperamentsoon incited him to undertake a journeythrough the interior of the continent, a jour-ney fraught with unhappy consequences tohimself and to science. For in passingthrough a portion of territory claimed by theArgentine Confederacy, he unfortunately in-curred the jealousy of the Dictator, Dr.Francia, by whom he was seized in the mostdastardly manner and thrown in confinement.True greatness always rises above misfortune,and Bonpland, denied a hearing by his perse-cutor, confined to a small plantation, dressedin the clothing of a slave, and compelled toperform menial labor for his daily bread, noblyresigned himself to his destiny, and endeav-ored to make the best of it. He was alwaysready to give assistence to the sick, and byhis gentle benevolence won the hearts of allwho knew him. Nor was his scientific ardorsuffered meanwhile to lie dormant. He madelarge additions to his collection of plants,and occupied himself a portion of the time inthe distillation of brandy from honey. Not-withstanding the intercession of AlexanderV. Humboldt and the remonstrances ofFrance and England, he remained a captive|718|
|Spaltenumbruch|
for nearly ten years. In 1831 he was releasedwithout the formality of a trial, and sent awayfrom the country which had so long been hisprison.“Refusing the most pressing invitations toreturn to Europe, Bonpland lived untilrecently upon his estate in the village of SanBorgia. Conforming in almost every thing,except his ardor in the scientific pursuits, tothe habits of the natives, he married an In-dian woman, and in the midst of the mostenchanting region in the new world built him-self a quiet and happy home. Here, sur-rounded by an affectionate family, revered byevery one, and at perfect liberty, he conceivedand carried into execution many schemes forthe advancement of agriculture, besides add-ing continually to his immense collection ofplants.“But neither the charms of a simple life,nor the engrossing nature of his pursuits,could wholly wean his heart from the old as-sociations. Though firmly resolved to liveand die upon his own estate in the new world,he long cherished the hope of a flying visitto the old. He desired, with all the ardor ofa life-long friendship, to see Humboldt oncemore, that he might talk over ‘old times’with him. How deeply this feeling wasshared by his illustrious friend, I need notsay. For many years they have maintaineda constant correspondence, and though separ-ated thousands of miles, each has felt a cer-tain society in the life of the other. Thesenior by about four years, Humboldt fondlyhoped that he might not survive the last, themost faithful, the noblest and best beloved ofall the friends of his long life. Yet so itmust be. It is the destiny of this venerableman to follow all his friends to the grave, andto remain himself the sole representative ofthe times of his youth. One after another,within a few years, the great men who startedwith him and kept pace with him, have goneto their rest and their final fame, and nowBonpland has left him. How deeply he feelsthis fresh bereavement, the following letteraffords touching evidence. It was written forpublication in the German papers, but I havelearned, from a private source, that the vener-able man desires its circulation in the journalsof the United States, as a mark of respectand esteem both for Bonpland and hisAmerican friends’:—“Conscious of the deep sympathy of numer-ous friends in the sorrow occasioned by thewide-spread report of the death of my dear,noble friend and fellow-traveller, Bonpland, Iconsider it my duty to give at least a briefnotice of this event, for the particulars ofwhich I am indebted to the kind services of|Spaltenumbruch|
Dr. Lallemant, author of an important paperon the diseases of Europeans in the tropics.This talented gentleman, after leaving theAustrian royal expedition in the frigateNovara, in February of this year, for the pur-pose of doing a kindness to myself, made thejourney from Rio Janeiro to Rio Grande, andthence by way of Porto Alegro through theformer Jesuit Mission to San Borgia, underthe erroneous impression that Bonpland, whohad gone there in 1831, was still resident atthat place. I have received two letters fromDr. Lallemant, one dated at San Borgia onthe 10th of April, the other written from thevillage of Umguaiana, after he had visitedBonpland at Santa Anna. An extended ab-stract of these letters having been sent to theeditor of the widely-read and interestingbotanical journal, the Bonplandia, in Han-over, the following briefer extracts may heresuffice:“‘In San Borgia,’ writes Dr. Lallemant,‘I lived with an intimate friend of Bonpland,the Vicar Gray, with whom I visited thegarden of the botanist, so long cultivated withcare, but now lying waste and desolate. Itwas near the close of the year 1857 that theVicar last received letters from Bonpland,since when intelligence had come of hissevere illness. Letters of inquiry still re-mained unanswered, and notwithstanding theshort distance between the places, the peopleof San Borgia were uncertain whether Ishould find your fellow-traveller yet in theland of the living. In 1853 Bonpland hadleft San Borgia and taken up his residenceupon his larger plantation of Santa Anna,where he had long occupied himself in thecultivation of orange trees. The residence ofthe aged scholar in the Estancia of SantaAnna, consists of two large buildings, merelyclay walls bound together by bamboo sticks,and a few beams, and thatched with straw.These buildings have doors, but no windows,the light being admitted through the chinksbetween the bamboo sticks. Despite the deepfurrows which an eventful life had engravenin the beloved countenance, his eye had notgrown dim nor lost any of its full-thoughtedvivacity. But lively conversation, thoughstarted by himself, appeared to weary himmuch, and he suffered severely from a chronicaffection of the bladder. The privations hehad so strangely imposed upon himself areby no means in consequence of poverty, or ofany necessity for abstinence, but of long cus-tom, great self-control, and characteristic in-dividuality. The government of Corrienteshas presented to him an estate valued at 10,-000 Spanish piastres, and he enjoys a Frenchpension of 3000 francs a year. He has nevermade the practice of medicine a source ofpecuniary profit to himself. Though univer-|719|
|Spaltenumbruch|
sally revered, he loves the solitude, and espe-cially avoids all persons who might offer himassistance or advice. His scientific ardor hasnot yet abated, and his collections and manu-scripts are deposited in Corrientes, where hehas founded a national Museum.“‘On the following morning I found himvisibly worse, and sinking away. The nighthad been a painful one. I pressed him totell me whether I might not, in some way, beof service to him. But I fared no better thanhis other friends—he would accept of noassistance. How gladly would I have per-suaded him to return once more to civilizedsociety! But I, too, felt with him that histime was passed. He belongs to the firsthalf of the nineteenth century, not to thesecond. I think that your friend himself wasmoved when I took his wasted hands in minewith the pressure of farewell. For threemonths now his attendants have remarkedhis failing strength, and perhaps the old manhad the same foreboding as myself, at parting,that I might be the last ambassador of Eu-ropean lineage who should penetrate thedepths of the wilderness to offer him regard,love and thanks, in the name of that sciencewhich owes so much to his labors. I mountedmy horse, and rode northward through theevergreen plains. No path showed my way,no guide disturbed me; I was alone with mysorrowful thoughts over the departing Bonp-land.’“Yet how cheerful the last letter I receivedfrom Bonpland, bearing date the 7th of
June,1857! ‘I myself,’ he writes, ‘shall bring
all|Spaltenumbruch| my collections and manuscripts to Paris, anddeposit them
in the Museum. My journey toFrance will be exceedingly short. I shall
re-turn to my Santa Anna, where I lead a quietand happy life. Here
shall I die, and mysepulchre and my grave shall be underneaththe
shadow of the many trees I have planted.Oh how happy were I, my dear
Humboldt,could we meet once more, and recall ourcommon
experiences! On the 28th of Augustnext I shall be eighty-four years
old, and amyet four years younger than you. A manlately died in
this vicinity who had attainedthe age of one hundred and seven. What
aprospect for two travellers who have alreadystepped beyond the
eightieth year!’“The cheerful, almost life-desiring tone ofthis letter, contrasts strangely with the melan-choly representations of Dr. Lallemant. Ac-cording to Herr v. Tschudi the report wascredited in Montevideo on the 29th of May,that Bonpland had died at San Borgia, thedate of his death uncertain. Yet Dr. Lalle-mant had spoken with him on the 18th ofApril in Santa Anna, and on May 19 thereport of his death was discredited at PortoAllegro. Thus there yet remains ground forhope that the younger is not to be first calledaway. Such remoteness often stretches un-certainty to a painful duration; such thesolicitude felt for Edward Vogel in CentralAfrica, and for Adolphus Schlagintweit inCentral Asia—the sorrowfully missed!
humboldt’s letter.
“Alexander V. Humboldt.
“Berlin, July 12, 1858.”