The Audubon Reader (73 page)

London, England

9 March 1836

My dear Bachman,

I now write to you merely because it is my rather painful duty to announce to you that in consequence of the destruction of our guns by the fire at New York, and the required time necessary to have others made in lieu of them, it will be entirely out of my power to sail for America as I had dearly anticipated on the first of April forthcoming, the guns &c. required for my next and probably last journey to our own dear woods unlikely to be finished before the middle of May, when it would be too late for John & I to venture towards the mouth of the Sabine
where we must go
…

I therefore beg of you to lay these, our present plans (which are fixed) in your best manner to our dear daughter, your own beloved [daughter] Maria, and to assure her that on the first of August next (God willing) we both will be underway to America and to you all.

In John’s letter to Maria of this day he gives her further explanations than are necessary for me to enter in just now; but as we are fathers and not precisely lovers in factor, I repeat that I beg of you to represent to our own dear daughter to consider her disappointment at not meeting with her “John” as one that is and must be common to all in this our transient world. As to my own self I feel most awfully disappointed, but what can I do? Why, nothing more than exert my poor faculties whilst remaining here four months longer than I did wish to do, all of which I shall spend in scribbling on my
Life
and
The Birds of America
.

The news from the Floridas are painful indeed, and much do I regret the total forthcoming extirpation of a race of beings all of whom must forever be acknowledged to have once been the only lords of the land allotted to them by our God! Thanks to that God, however, the general country will be at peace with France, which with me is synonymous to be at war with the whole of Europe, therefore with all we must consider ourselves tolerably well off …

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

23 October 1836

My dear Bachman,

I have added two
subscribers’ names to my list since I wrote to you. Therefore I have now 15 new ones. I hope the dogs, rum, &c., have reached you ere this. I hope too, and that most sincerely, that you are quite recovered and that your dear family are all well, and the cholera gone to Jericho!

John went to the seashore of New Jersey with our young friend Mr. Trudeau of Louisiana on Thursday morning last, and I expect them to return here tomorrow night. And
perhaps
I will dispatch John to Charleston at once to see his beloved one!

Now, good friend, open your eyes! Aye, open them tight!! Nay, place specs on your proboscis if you choose! Read aloud!! quite aloud!!! I have purchased ninety-three bird skins! Yes 93 bird skins!—Well, what are they? Why, naught less than 93 bird skins sent from the Rocky Mountains and the Columbia River by Nuttall & Townsend! Cheap as dirt, too—only one hundred and eighty four dollars for the whole of these, and hang me if you do not echo my saying so when you see them!! Such beauties! Such rarities! Such novelties! Ah, my worthy friend, how we will laugh and talk over them!

Have counted the points of exclamation? No, very well. Good then.
Titian Peale has given me a new
Rallus
and six young ones to draw, caught about 30 miles below this, last summer, and plenty more there!
William Cooper of New York has positively given me some very rare bird skins. Friend Harris, a great number of ditto ditto. So you see—or do not you see—how lucky the “Old Man” is yet! And why all this Luck? Simply because I have labored like a cart horse for the last thirty years on a Single Work, have been
successful almost to a miracle in its publication thus far, and now am thought a-a-a-(I dislike to write it, but no matter, here goes) a Great Naturalist!!! That’s all. Oh what a strange world we do
live in, and how grateful to our God must we be, when after years of trouble, anxiety & sorrow, we find ourselves happy because true to him! Him without whose assistance, and even parental care, we poor things never could be called worthy the notice of even our own race.

I am obliged to remain here about 10 days longer to finish a few drawings wanted in London. When this is done, I will proceed southward, a few days at Baltimore and the same at Washington, and then trot or gallop on, nags or horses; until [I] reach the door of my worthy friends the Bachmans. Then for my having a Daughter! Oh, how dearly I love her now; but how much more will I love her when I can call her my own beloved child & daughter! Your dear sister & wife & children and yourself, oh how I long to see and be with you. But let hope, and the time will soon come …

Mobile,
Alabama

24 February 1837

My dearest friends,

We left Charleston on the 17th instant (Ed Harris, John & I) and arrived here last night. Our journey was performed first by the railroad to Augusta, a pretty village in Georgia. The weather was extremely cold; nay, the ice on the morning of the 18th was one-half-inch deep. At Augusta we took the mail [coach], and luckily for us had no others than ourselves in the coach. The roads, in consequence of several previous days & nights of rain, were as bad as can be; but we proceeded apace and had no accidents. Having crossed Georgia, we entered the State of Alabama after crossing a bridge at Columbus; here the swamps were shockingly bad, and we feared that our goods & chattels would have been wetted, but thanks to our Yankee drivers (
the very best in the world
) all was kept dry as cocks. The next morning we breakfasted at the village of ——, where 100 Creek warriors were confined in irons, preparatory to leaving forever the land of their births! Some miles onward we overtook about two thousands of these once free owners of the forest, marching towards this place under an escort of rangers and militia mounted men, destined for distant lands, unknown to them, and where, alas, their future and latter days must be spent in the deepest of sorrows, affliction and perhaps even physical want. This view produced on my mind an afflicting series of reflections more powerfully felt than easy of description. The numerous groups of warriors, of half-clad females and of naked babes, trudging through the mire under the residue of their ever scanty stock of camp furniture and household utensils. The evident regret expressed in the masked countenances of some and the tears of others, the
howlings of their numerous dogs and the cool demeanor of the chiefs, all formed such a picture as I hope I never will again witness in reality. Had Victor been with us, ample indeed would have been his means to paint Indians in sorrow.

We reached Montgomery at night, remained there until 10 of the next day, and on board of a steamer, made down the River Alabama, a stream which though much smaller than the Mississippi, resembles it very much: like it, it is muddy, winding, and lined on its shores by heavy canebrakes and bluffs of various elevations & formations.

Our intentions to visit the families of our friends the Lees were abandoned, and I wrote to them instead. We heard from different persons that they were all well-doing and in good health. We saw many Southern birds, but felt no difference in the climate. Indeed, even here the weather is cool, and the country exhibits no appearance of spring.

Our first enquiry at this place was for Judge Hitchcock, but he is absent. A Mr. Martineau answered in his stead, and introduced us to the Collector of Mobile, who in turn presented us to Capt. Foster, who commands a cutter; a jolly old gentleman, who gave us to understand that he should like a tour with us, provided I would obtain
Commodore Dallas’ permission to do so. He gave us some pleasing information of desired birds, &c., and we have concluded to go to Pensacola tomorrow by steamer to pay our regards to the Commodore. Our intention is to spend but one day there; to return here, and await the receipt of answers to letters sent to Mr. Grimshaw and Capt. Coste, who we are told is on the New Orleans station, and now at that place. Thus far, you perceive, we are unable to form our plans; but expect to be able to do so very soon, when I shall not fail to give you all desirable information.

Mobile is a small, compact, thriving place, of goodly appearance. There are about 10 steamers that ply up the Mobile &
Alabama Rivers, some to New Orleans daily, and also some to Pensacola daily. The country around is flat and swampy, and the accounts of the healthiness of this place [are] so varied that no one can depend on what is said on the subject; at the exception, that the population is about 13,000 people during winter, and that in July & August, it is reduced to about 5,000! To me this, and what I have seen, is
sufficient. My mind therefore is made up never to seek refuge (much less health) in either the lower parts of Alabama or any of our Southern states.

Need I say to you all, how dearly glad we would be to be enabled suddenly to accompany you to church on Sunday next? I believe not!

My spirits are not above par, I assure you, and this day I have suffered much from the [discomfort?] of drinking Alabama water. Tomorrow I [hope] to be cured by a dance over the waters of the Mexican Gulf—and then all will be right again.

John Bachman, my friend, the salamanders are still asleep. Hares we have seen none of.
Parakeets, by the hundreds, and also
Wild Pigeons and
Hutchins’ Geese …

Sweetheart [i.e., Maria Martin] will be so good as to write to my Lucy and give her the interest if any of this letter. I send my love to you all, and thousands of kisses on the wing …

New Orleans, Louisiana

3 March 1837

My dear Bachman,

Having given you an account of our journey as far as Mobile in my last, I now will proceed with one of what has happened since then.

The next day we left Mobile for Pensacola by steamer and reached the latter the same evening late. Went to a most rascally house called “Collin’s Hotel.” May your star never shoot you there! However, morning came, it was Sunday and poured of rain, notwithstanding which, we delivered a few letters of introduction and were taken on board the U.S. frigate the
Constellation
, in
Commodore Dallas’ barge! The Commodore received Friend Harris and I
quite well
(John remained at Mobile), we found him a very amiable person, and after he had read [Secretary of the Treasury Levi] Woodbury’s letter he assured us that he would do all in his power to serve us & Science, and that in all probability he would put us on board of the cutter now commanded by
Captain Robert Day and that he would write to us at Mobile in 5 or 6 days. He presented us to all his principal officers, shewed us every part of his superb ship, gave us some first-rate wine and a bottle of Copenhagen snuff that would make your nostrils expand with pleasure and draw tears from your eyes, the stuff is so very potent. We took our leave and returned to the
Collins
where we sat contemplating the weather to our hearts’ content. Pensacola is a small place at present; principally inhabited by Creole Spaniards of the lowest class and some few amiable & talented families of Scotch, and Americans. The place is said to be perfectly healthy. The country is deeply sandy, and nothing but pine barrens exist for about 80 miles back. The bay is grand and of good depth. The bar at the entrance, about 22 feet, admits of vessels of great burthen; this is guarded by two powerful fortifications. The naval depot or navy yard is 9 miles before the village; we had not time to visit it.
Fish is abundant, and there I saw I think the finest oysters ever observed by me in any portion of the southern country.
Deer, Wild Turkeys and smaller game is said to be very plentiful. We saw thousands of
salamander burrows; and here let me assure you that these animals have an entrance to their burrows resembling that of European rabbits, but smaller of course. It is yet too early to procure them. Railroads are in progress, and some projected to communicate with
Blakeley (opposite Mobile distant 65 miles) and Montgomery in Alabama distant 175 or thereabouts.
Major Ingram of the Topographical Department politely shewed us all the plans on paper. Much of the iron cars, engines &c. are already on the spot. A new town is laid out for sale, and an immense hotel is now being erected there. But after all the back country is so poor, and the want of some navigable stream so great in my opinion, that I have great doubts of the ultimate boasted-of advancement of either the new or the old town. The former belongs to a company of New York speculators, and the rage for new cities in this section is so great, that the lots already sold have brought great sums. I have forgotten to tell you that
Commodore Dallas shewed us the last received dispatches from Gen. Jessup in which he gives great hopes of the Florida
War being at an end! May this prove true. Harris and I walked the whole of Monday, and heard of a bird breeding in that section called the Gris which, from the imperfect descriptions we have had, I conclude is my
Brown Ibis, but of this we will tell you more another time. We returned to Mobile on Tuesday. Called on Mr. Logan, but only saw his wife.
Frank Lee and John had passed their time pleasantly &c. I found 2 letters from my dear wife dates 8th and 19th of December and one from Mr. Grimshaw informing me that [Capt. Napoleon] Coste was on the New Orleans station but absent and assisting a wrecked vessel on one of the Keys—that he would be here in less than one month. He is not under the control of Commodore Dallas, and we expect to sail with him for the Sabine and intermediate places. We hope to go with Capt. Day or Capt. Coste as far as Cape Sable and visit all the Keys [and explore?] the western coast of Florida before we sail for the westward. Harris has gone back to Pensacola in the revenue cutter the
Jackson
, Capt. Foster, to remain and see the Commodore until something profitable is offered or said, and John
& myself will await for news from Harris at this place, where I hope to procure a few subscribers. Were snug and comfortable at Mr. Grimshaw’s (
James Grimshaw, Esq.) to whose care please to write to us. It pours of rain, and cannot go to market this morning. The first fair day we will do so and seek for squirrels and rabbits for you. Yesterday I received another letter from London dated 31 of December. This latter had rather perplexed me on account of the rapidity with which Victor and Havell have proceeded with the work, but Victor will do his best, and I hope that the drawings made at Charleston will arrive in time to be disposed of accordingly with my late arrangements. We have found our clothes here, from England, but the things from Charleston have not yet arrived. Why our English letters have been sent here, instead of to you, I cannot guess. I beg of our dear sweetheart to write to my wife and to copy whatever parts of my letters to you or to her, and send these promptly … I find
New Orleans so large, and so much improved in every point of view that I can scarcely recognize one street from another. We have lost however by death the greater portion of our numerous former acquaintances here. Ten thousands of kisses for all the dear girls and mamma too—and “Rabbit” and “Sweetmeats”—and old friend Mrs. Davies, and the master in phrenology!