“She would crawl though underbrush, over rocks, up mountains, and down streams until she found her quarry. Then she would stand infinitely patient, silent as a tree, watching the birds and animals.” —Mabel Maxwell, Martha’s daughter
In 1868, only a few months after geologist John Wesley Powell and his party made the first recorded ascent of Colorado’s Longs Peak, Martha Maxwell was searching for wildlife in a nearby mountain valley called Middle Park. Settled in a campsite with her 10-year-old daughter Mabel; husband, James; and half sister Mary, she blissfully investigated the mountain wildlife and savored the magnificent scenery.
“Clothes damp, boots hard and stiff, frost a quarter of an inch thick on everything outside the tent, and no hope of warmth or breakfast, till from under sheltering rocks and logs enough fuel can be gathered for a fire,” Mary later wrote of their experience.
For Martha, who had lived in a log cabin and traveled crosscountry in a wagon, these were hardly discomforts. What did cause worry was an accident that occurred as she and Mabel were traveling home. Martha was riding a horse with Mabel seated behind her. With one of her hands Mabel held the reins of their pack mule, which was following behind. While they were crossing a steep slope, the mule bolted and pulled Mabel off the horse. Fortunately a boulder on the slope blocked her fall; otherwise she would have tumbled down the precipitous hillside to her death.
Martha was no stranger to death or hardship. Following Martha’s birth on July 21, 1831, her mother, Amy Sanford Dartt, was bedridden for many years. Their home was Dartt’s Settlement, Pennsylvania, a small community named after Martha’s great-grandfather. When she was only two years old, Martha’s father, Spencer Dartt, caught scarlet fever and died. Still bedridden, her mother was incapable of taking care of Martha and the farm. Abigail Sanford, Martha’s grandmother, came to the rescue; she moved from Connecticut to care for her daughter and young granddaughter. Abigail was strong-willed, independent, and loving. Martha adored her. Together they rambled in the forest and marveled at the squirrels, turtles, birds, and other creatures they saw there.
Two years later, Martha’s mother was still an invalid. Grandmother Abigail decided that it was time to go to Connecticut to seek a cure. Martha, now four years old, was heartbroken at being left behind in the care of her father’s relatives. It was a long, lonely year for Martha, but at its end Grandmother Abigail returned with Martha’s mother finally in good health. With Martha’s help Amy could now care for the farm. Between school and work at home, Martha became both self-reliant and passionate about learning.
Just a few months after Martha’s 10th birthday, Amy remarried. Her new husband was Josiah Dartt, a cousin of Martha’s father. At 23 years old, he was 13 years younger than Amy and 13 years older than Martha. Josiah was a kind and devout man as well as a lover of books and nature. Within a year, in December 1841, Martha’s baby sister Mary was born. Martha adored her little sister and became her main caregiver when their mother fell ill again.
Both Josiah and Amy shared a desire to be missionaries and dreamed of converting Native Americans in the West. In pursuit of this dream, the family headed off for Oregon in a covered wagon in August 1844. Along with them went Grandma Abigail and three of her adult sons. Mary was 20 months old, and Amy was again pregnant. For Martha the trip was a grand adventure.
“We went by land and lived in our wagons night and day. I never enjoyed five weeks better I think,” Martha later recalled.
In October they stopped in Byron, Illinois, to stay with Abigail’s husband, Grandfather Sanford, who had moved from Connecticut to live with another one of her mother’s brothers there. Abigail and some other family members came down with malaria. Martha, who was one of the few who remained healthy, took on the responsibility of caring for the sick. All recovered— except Grandma Abigail, who, despite Martha’s efforts, passed away that fall. This was a terrible loss for Martha as well as the rest of the family. Born into this mourning family was Martha’s newest sister, Elizabeth, who Martha took care of in addition to little Mary.
In spring the family traveled north to Baraboo, Wisconsin, where they were guests of Martha’s uncle, Joseph Sanford, until they moved into a simple little cabin on the outskirts of town. Here Martha took on the duties of a mother as she labored on the farm and looked after her baby sisters. One day while Josiah was off working, Martha noticed a rattlesnake on the cabin floor. It was coiled up just a few feet away from Mary. Without hesitation Martha grabbed her father’s gun and skillfully shot the snake. Her keen vision and good marksmanship would serve her well in the coming years.
Martha hoped to attend college. She wished for a career instead of a life of farming and housework. In the early 1850s, few women received training for a profession. Fortunately for Martha, there were now colleges that accepted women students, and her parents supported her wish for schooling. Though the family had little money, Josiah scraped together enough funds to send Martha to Oberlin College in Ohio. For Martha, being at college was a “continual feast” for her mind. She studied hard, earning the attention of the college president for her efforts. She befriended other students, both male and female. She wanted to study science, but her hopes were dashed. Martha’s parents had run out of money for tuition, so she returned home.
Unknown to her family, Martha and a male schoolmate had developed a mutual affection. At home Martha daydreamed about continuing her education and waited patiently to hear from her beau. Meanwhile, another opportunity to attend college arrived. James Maxwell, a well-to-do Baraboo businessman and a widower with six children, was seeking someone to chaperone his two oldest children at Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin. He approached Martha to ask if she would take on this task and promised that if she did, he would pay her fees for courses at the university. Martha agreed to these terms and continued her studies at the new school.
Months went by without a word from Martha’s young suitor. Then, out of the blue, she received a letter from James Maxwell, confessing his love for her and proposing marriage. He was a man 20 years her senior who had children not much younger than she. Though he was a prosperous businessman, she was in love with another man her own age. She had no idea what to do. Not wanting to make a decision, she wrote back to James telling him that she had to discuss his proposal with her mother. Meanwhile, Martha anxiously waited for a letter from her Oberlin sweetheart.
Having not heard from her sweetheart, she agreed to marry James. When she returned home after the wedding, a letter awaited her. It was from her sweetheart. It had been sent a month before and been lost in the mail. In it he expressed his hope “that soon he could claim her for life.” Unfortunately, Martha was already claimed. She was distraught, but as was her fashion, she tried to make the best of what life dealt her. It would not be easy. Within three years, James lost his businesses due to unwise decisions. All that remained of his former fortune was their house. Martha, who had cared for the Maxwell children, was now pregnant and faced with poverty. Within two years of giving birth to their daughter, Mabel, the financial situation was even worse. She and James had to do something.
Like others with financial problems, Martha and James boldly decided to seek their fortune out West in the newly discovered goldfields of Colorado. Thinking the journey would be too dangerous for young Mabel, James and Martha left her behind with her grandparents, Josiah and Amy. Thus family history repeated itself. However, unlike Martha’s one-year separation from her mother, Mabel wouldn’t see Martha or James for several years.
By the time they arrived in Nevadaville, Colorado, it was too late for easy pickings. James found a job driving cattle from the plains to Colorado, and Martha opened a boardinghouse. Determined to have more control of their finances, she worked long hours and invested her earnings in a mine and land. From afar Martha gazed at the beauty of the mountains that she could see from town and dreamed of exploring them.
Once more misfortune struck: a fire swept through town. Most of the buildings went up in flames, including her boarding house. But this disaster led to an encounter that forever changed her life. She and James decided to move into a cabin on the land Martha had purchased. After being away from home for a few days, they returned to discover that three men had claimed it. One of them was a German taxidermist. Strangely, frontier law allowed settlers to claim “unoccupied” homes. Martha and James convinced two of the men to leave, but the German refused to budge. She was intrigued by his stuffed specimens of mountain animals and offered to pay him to teach her his craft. Again, the German stubbornly refused her wishes. Martha then figured she could use his own tactics to evict him. She patiently watched the cabin from a hidden lookout post for several days. When the German left on an errand she quickly removed the lock on the door and replaced it with her own. As she carried out his possessions she carefully examined the stuffed animal specimens and the supplies and tools he used to make them. It was at that moment Martha suddenly realized that she had found the kind of profession she had been seeking. Now all that remained was to find someone to train her.
In 1864, when Martha arrived back in Wisconsin, Mabel was six years old and hardly knew her mother. In addition to resuming her role as a mother, Martha took lessons from a local man who knew a little about taxidermy. Then Martha perfected her new skills by assisting a professor at Baraboo’s new college in assembling a collection of stuffed animals. At first Martha was dissatisfied with her specimens. The skins were too loose for the frames. Through trial and error she discovered that if she molded the frame in plaster, the stuffed animal would look more natural. The displays she created of each animal’s natural habitat made each specimen appear even more real. People viewing her specimens could now imagine how the animal looked in the wild.
In 1868 Martha returned to Colorado with Mabel. They traveled most of the way by train. Martha realized that the West was rapidly transforming. She noticed that as the number of settlers increased, the numbers of wild animals declined. Now was the time, Martha figured, to document the wealth of wildlife by making a scientific collection of the animals before they were gone. At the beginning of her project, she paid boys to bring her specimens, but she soon found that she could do it better herself. Sometimes she took Mabel with her on collecting trips in the mountains. At other times she ventured off alone dressed in a practical but unorthodox outfit. One journalist described her hunting attire as a “thick frock falling below the knee, a tight-fitting jacket with rolling collar, beneath which passed a handkerchief tied in sailor fashion, stout laced shoes going well to the knee, and any kind of head-gear that happened to be within reach; with a large netted and fringed game bag hanging over her right shoulder, a powder-flask, a doublebarrel fowling piece, and a well-trained dog.”
Martha’s calling card shows her dressed for hunting.
Courtesy of Beverly Wilgus
Martha pursued her prey fearlessly, often risking her life. On one occasion she was trapped within a herd of bison, but she managed to shoot the one she wanted and escaped unharmed. On another hunting trip Martha trekked high up on a mountainside in pursuit of a white-tailed ptarmigan and was caught in a thunderstorm with lightning striking all around her. Again she survived unscathed.
Despite having little space to work in the family’s two-room stone house in Boulder, Martha managed to prepare dozens of specimens. In the fall of 1868 she displayed her work at the annual exhibition of the Colorado Agricultural Society. The Rocky Mountain News reported that hers was the largest collection of birds from the Rocky Mountains region ever exhibited. More than 100 species of stuffed bird skins were arranged on the branches of two large shrubs. Martha earned praise for her skill as a taxidermist as well as her contributions to science. She was awarded both of the exhibition’s top honors as well as a $50 cash prize.
At this time Boulder was far from any library that had the books Martha needed to identify each species in her collection. She wrote to the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC, for help, and Joseph Henry, the Smithsonian’s secretary, replied with an offer to identify any specimens she sent him. He also put her in contact with Smithsonian scientist Spencer Fullerton Baird.
After many years, James Maxwell was finally successful enough with his business to purchase a new brick home for his family, but their residence there was short-lived. When a Methodist minister cheated James out of his investments, they again lost their home. Martha was now more determined than ever to find a way to support herself and Mabel.
Her next exhibit at the agricultural fair in 1870 contained about 600 specimens. One reporter noted that it contained “nearly every bird and beast of this country, with many of the reptiles.” Best of all it was one of the most popular exhibits. Martha decided to sell this impressive collection to Shaw’s Garden in Saint Louis, later known at the Missouri Botanical Garden. With her earnings she purchased land in Boulder Canyon and immediately began assembling a new collection. Within three years she had enough specimens to open the Rocky Mountain Museum. Housed in a building on Boulder’s main street, each exhibit featured lifelike animal specimens set in displays resembling their natural habitats. News of this amazing woman hunter and taxidermist who had created her own museum exhibits spread far and wide. Visitors flocked to the museum and gladly paid the twenty-five-cent admission.
In 1874 Martha sent two bird skins to Baird at the Smithsonian. He was pleased to hear from her and sent her publications about birds and mammals. This led to Martha’s ongoing professional relationship with the country’s foremost scientific institution, which developed further when Baird’s coworker Robert Ridgway asked Martha to procure birds for him. Ridgway had begun collecting birds at the young age of 16 while serving for two years as a member of one of western America’s most important expeditions, the survey of the 40th parallel. Later in life he would become the lead ornithologist at the Smithsonian, a post he held for more than half a century. Martha was thrilled to assist him. When she sent him a unique owl specimen, he verified that it was a subspecies of eastern screech owl and named it in her honor. Martha proved to be an astute and tireless explorer, finding wildlife where few scientists had ventured. A black-footed ferret she collected and preserved confirmed the existence of this rare mammal that had previously only been described by naturalist John James Audubon.
The black-footed ferret was one of the animals that Martha confirmed the presence of in Colorado.
Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
With Mabel now attending Oberlin College, Martha needed to earn more money to pay for tuition. She moved her museum to Denver to increase visitation. Here in the state capital her work was even more appreciated and led to an offer she dared not refuse. The Colorado state legislature asked her to exhibit her collection in the Colorado pavilion at the upcoming 1876 Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia. This was the United States’ first official World’s Fair, where there would be millions of visitors. Martha was offered free transport of her specimens and displays as well as a salary. Martha accepted the offer. Now she had the money to pay for the remainder of Mabel’s college costs.
Martha’s display of wildlife of the western plains and mountains at the Centennial Exhibition was her most realistic and elaborate yet. In one section there was a mountain scene with trees, boulders, and a stream trickling down into a small lake with “swimming” fish and “sunning” turtles, and beavers, muskrats, and water birds along the shore. Above the lake on the “mountain” was a cave with a grizzly bear, along with a mountain sheep and, farther up, a puma. One reporter wrote of a woman who was so taken in by the magic of Martha’s work that she collected water from the stream in a small bucket and offered it to friends, believing it was truly Colorado mountain water and not from the Philadelphia tap that it really was.
Martha in front of her exhibit at the Centennial Exposition.
Courtesy of the Bridgeman Art Library, NYC
Martha was a celebrity. Seated in front the display of stuffed antelope, elk, enormous bison, prairie dogs, and rattlesnakes, she was a striking figure. Everyone wanted to know all about her and her adventures. They wondered how this petite and sweet-voiced woman had accomplished all her work. Martha was gratified by people’s response. Beyond this she was happy to be an example for other women by demonstrating what women are capable of accomplishing. Many visitors to the Centennial Exhibition considered her display one of the highlights of the entire exposition. With as many as one out of five Americans making their way there, Martha’s work was viewed by an enormous number of people.
Sadly, after the event was over, Martha never returned to her beloved Rocky Mountains. She developed an infection and died unexpectedly shortly before her 50th birthday. In her short lifetime she had overcome difficulties that would have stopped less ambitious and persistent individuals from pursuing their dreams. Martha’s achievements made her a model for others willing to step beyond the boundaries of their time.
