After signing the last of 874 paintings in 1926, Rex was eager to publish all of his paintings and fulfill a long-held dream to create a “standard reference” of American birds and trees for “students and all interested.”

In 1928, after meeting with publishers, Rex realized that commercial publishing would be too costly and four-color printing too clumsy to reproduce the fine lines and subtle color of his paintings, so he did the only reasonable thing he could think of: he would publish the books himself!

Later that year, Rex created the “Herald” and began mailing it to potential subscribers nationwide. He aimed to sell 500 copies of Birds and Trees of North America, a twelve-volume encyclopedic set that included all 874 paintings, detailed descriptions of birds and trees, and special insets of paintings and stories. Ultimately, he would produce 100 full sets of Birds and Trees and several dozen special editions.

Only a few remaining copies of Rex’s “Herald” exist. We are proud to share the full text below.

PAINTED
PROSED
PRINTED
PUBLISHED
BY REX BRASHER
AND HIS CLAN

BEHIND every creative work is a ruling force, usually ambition to leave our little mark on the sands of Fame. With me this impulse was shame—a feeling of chagrin that Americans had no complete pictorial colored record of their BIRDS AND TREES.

Anything “up in the air”—birds, trees, clouds, kites or a man who has stepped on a nest of ground hornets always interested me. One of my earliest recollections is watching a balloon ascension from the Capitoline Grounds, Brooklyn, on July 4th, 1873.

Acquisition of weapons followed the regular progression—putty-blower, sling-shot, bow-gun, and at last, after a year of saving, a single-barrel 30-gauge muzzle-loading gun!

Even to my juvenile eye all pictures of birds seemed unlifelike. With the assurance of youth I was sure I could surpass them and set the goal at a complete series of paintings of North American Birds.

The first victim of my gun and art was a White-throated Sparrow. Physically and artistically, that martyr was thoroly mangled but I kept at it and soon learned a pencil and field glasses were far more effective for the purpose than a gun.

About 500 paintings were finished when Coue’s Book with Fuertes’ drawings was published. A glance at his work—a long sober look at my own, and the lot went into the furnace. Fuertes had caught on paper the spirit of birds.

The next attempt was better and the series was 75% completed when I developed a technic of painting shadows first. This method produced a feather effect so superior that the second lot followed the first into the fire.

I decided to make the backgrounds mean something, so included our trees in the plan of the third campaign.

A year’s cruise, from Maine to Florida, on my 28-foot sloop Phalarope yielded valuable data.

This farm in the Taconic Hills was purchased—all but the primal facts of life hove overboard. The pencil and brush, food—many a meal was woodchuck—and wood.

Existence flowed smoothly under the direction of this trinity.

The last picture was signed in May, 1928.

Oddly enuf, a snowball and a junkman had something to do with the determination which enabled me to finish the task. One December day in 1881 I was returning from school with a large snowball in my fist. I crossed Smith street behind a junk wagon and the driver’s back was too great a temptation; the snowball landed on his neck.

“Whoa! Damyer!”

Whip in hand, he hopped off. Down Union street we sprinted. I was just about to quit when he did. I never forgot that lesson and remembering it has pulled me out of many a tight corner where the Dark Angel’s wings were audible.

Taking the Swans as an example, here is the procedure.

Snugly anchored under the lee of a point in Roanoke Sound I watched from the Phalarope’s deck scattered bunches of WHISTLING SWANS swing past before half a nor’east gale. The binoculars brought some close enuf to permit making rough pencil sketches on a pad. The sunset following was stowed away in a mind niche, and in the fifteen years that elapsed until I put a 28x40 Whatman sheet on the board, I collected all photos, prints and information I could about the birds.

From this material the most characteristic positions were redrawn and composition studied. When this pencil preliminary seemed satisfactory it was transferred to paper, the background painted, then put under the faucet and swabbed with a bit of absorbent cotton. Some paintings underwent this treatment six times. A little more color sticks after each washing and gives a depth to watercolors unattainable in a single wash.

Some birds eluded me. They would not go down on paper the way my mind’s eye saw them, and a number of these pictures represent forty or fifty pencil outlines from life and several paintings before they passed the most severe critic of all—myself (not my wife—I haven’t any).

The driving force behind the second part of the contract was that “tired feeling” engendered by actions of publishers who came, did some figuring and departed, scared into airplane speed when the numerals reached six digits!

One guaranteed a fortune if I would let him publish in 5x7 size, citing as proof the success of a small handbook he had issued.

“No. That would destroy their value, especially in the subspecies.”
“But—”
“Sorry, Menelaus. Take your gold and go!”

Now for the tacks of the proposition.

The primary object is to give students and all interested in natural history a standard reference work. Tho subspecies are laboratory study, some plumage variations can be depicted. I am against the hair-splitting fad and think some subspecific differences untenable. But there must be a standard, and I have included all that have been approved by the Ornithological Archbishops.

The work will consist of twelve volumes 12x17. Seventy 10x14 plates on hand-made paper, colored by me or under my direction, depicting male, female and young. About 80% of our birds will be shown life size and all North American trees represented except a few of the rarer species.

The four color process used today is on paper which will not endure, and I stress the hand-made paper fact because it is permanent. Wherever Art and Science clashed, scientific delineation has been given preference in the paintings.

The text is without synonym or bibliographic lumber. A twelve-year-old-boy, Glenn Carter, Jr., is one of my first subscribers. Even the strict “Systematist” may glean a fact or two unless he belongs to the rare genus who hold birdskins so close to their eyes that living birds are obscured. To these dusty gentlemen and to those who try to hide the fact they have never created anything by criticizing those who have, I bid a long farewell—their absence from the table will not be noted.

Replies to this HERALD will determine the number of copies in the edition. Life slips toward the sunset gun, but forty years without a day’s illness warrants the hope I can hold off Azrael until the task is finished. Five hundred copies is the limit.

The first volume will contain the BLUEBIRDS, THRUSHES, SOLITAIRE, KINGLETS, GNATCATCHERS, WRENTITS, BUSHTITS, CHICKADEES, NUTHATCHES, CREEPERS and WRENS.

Each plate linen-hinged and loose-leaf bound, making possible rearrangements to correspond with future checklists.

Every volume will be autographed and individual.

Every volume will be one hundred dollars, yielding about bricklayer’s wages to the “crew and the Captain bold.”

Two volumes a year is the objective.

A number of hands will be needed to bring this ship into port. If you want to man the towline, send the slip enclosed to me. Soon, please, for

Life’s scarce longer than
The Curlew’s fluting call.