The Audubon Reader (39 page)

You, my dear son, must not conceive that the want of affection keeps me east of the mountains and that should I not ever see you or your brother it is because I have not the wish. No, my dear boy, I am more pained at such a visit to America than anyone may conceive: and I foresee the numberless critics of my conduct tearing me into piecemeals about it. Nevertheless, neither these critics nor no one in the world but you and I knows the reasons and the force of those reasons and therefore little will I care about the criticism. I probably might have had other inducements to go to Kentucky had I had a friend there besides my son, but at present I know no one in that country by that precious name, and I may safely say that I paddle my canoe in the face of the storm, and against strong contrary currents, but no matter.

I wrote to you that I had brought an excellent gold timekeeper for you. I have it still and will keep it until I know from you how I am to send it safely. I have also a copy of my work for you and one for your Uncle William Bakewell. The dog I have, your Mamma seems anxious should be given to a friend of hers near Bayou Sarah, and it is therefore at her disposal.

I have received several letters from England: the last date is 12th May, when all my business was going on well. Some ferment had taken place in Manchester and some damages had been the fruits of this discontent, but none of my
subscribers there (and I have 30) had suffered or discontinued. In France I am afraid that matters do not go on so well. Mr. Children had no letters from my agent in Paris,
M. Pitois, and therefore no remittance. I have about 1,000 dollars due me there.

When I know that 15 or 20 days could take my body to near yours, and that in such time we might converse together and exchange a long train of thoughts, my heart palpitates, and I feel the blood rushing to my head so quickly that it seems as if my life was at an end. I now know next to nothing about any of your Mother’s relations except Mrs. Gordon, whom I saw a few times, and her husband, who called upon me a few days before my departure from London. What is my former partner Mr. Thomas W. Bakewell doing? or Mr. Berthoud and their increased families? Upon my word it is wonderful to live a long life and see the movements, thoughts and different actions of our poor degenerated species—good only through interest; forgetful, envious or hateful through the same medium. Well, my dear boy, so goes the world, and with it we must move the best way we can.

Adieu. Give this to your dear brother John to read. Write to me on some such paper as I use, and give me some such lengthy account as I have done here. Now is the season to procure some shells for me for my friend
John Adamson of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Try to have some for me and send them to my friend Wm. Rathbone of Liverpool through Mr.
Charles Briggs of New Orleans. Remember me kindly to your uncles and aunts and such of their children to whom the name of J. J. A. is still in memory …

I left Philadelphia at four of the morning by the coach, with no other accoutrements than I knew to be absolutely necessary for the jaunt which I intended to make. These consisted of a wooden box containing a small stock of linen, drawing paper, my journal, colors and pencils, together with 25 pounds of shot, some flints, the due quantum of cash, my gun
Tearjacket
and a heart as true to nature as ever.

Our coaches are none of the best, nor do they move with the velocity of those of some other countries. It was eight, and a dark night, when I reached
Mauch Chunk [“Bear Mountain”], now so celebrated in the Union for its rich coal mines and 88 miles distant from Philadelphia. I had passed through a very diversified country, part of which was highly cultivated, while the rest was yet in a state of nature and consequently much more agreeable to me. On alighting, I was shewn to the travelers’ room, and on asking for the landlord, saw coming towards me a fine-looking young man to whom I made known my wishes. He spoke kindly and offered to lodge and board me at a much lower rate than travelers who go there for the very simple pleasure of being dragged on the railway. In a word, I was fixed in four minutes, and that most comfortably.

No sooner had the approach of day been announced by the cocks of the little village than I marched out with my gun and notebook, to judge for myself of the wealth of the country. After traversing much ground and crossing many steep hills I returned, if not wearied, at least much disappointed at the extraordinary scarcity of birds. So I bargained to be carried in a cart to the central parts of the Great Pine Swamp, and although a heavy storm was rising, ordered my conductor to proceed.

We winded round many a mountain and at last crossed the highest. The weather had become tremendous and we were thoroughly drenched, but my resolution being fixed, the boy was obliged to continue his driving. Having already traveled about fifteen miles or so, we left the turnpike and struck up a narrow and
bad road that seemed merely cut out to enable the people of the Swamp to receive the necessary supplies from the village which I had left. Some mistakes were made and it was almost dark when a post directed us to the habitation of a Mr.
Jediah Irish, to whom I had been recommended. We now rattled down a steep declivity, edged on one side by almost perpendicular rocks and on the other by a noisy stream which seemed grumbling at the approach of strangers. The ground was so overgrown by laurels and tall pines of different kinds that the whole presented only a mass of darkness.

At length we got to the house, the door of which was already opened, the sight of strangers being nothing uncommon in our
woods, even in the most remote parts. On entering I was presented with a chair while my conductor was shewn the way to the stable, and on expressing a wish that I should be permitted to remain in the house for some weeks, I was gratified by receiving the sanction of the good woman to my proposal, although her husband was then from home. As I immediately fell a-talking about the nature of the country and inquired if birds were numerous in the neighborhood, Mrs. Irish, more
au fait
to household affairs than ornithology, sent for a nephew of her husband’s who soon made his appearance and in whose favor I became at once prepossessed. He conversed like an educated person, saw that I was comfortably disposed of and finally bade me goodnight in such a tone as made me quite happy.

The storm had rolled away before the first beams of the morning sun shone brightly on the wet foliage, displaying all its richness and beauty. My ears were greeted by the notes, always sweet and mellow, of the Wood Thrush and other songsters. Before I had gone many steps, the woods echoed to the report of my gun and I picked from among the leaves a lovely
Sylvia
, long sought for but until then sought for in vain. I needed no more, and standing still for awhile, I was soon convinced that the Great Pine Swamp harbored many other objects as valuable to me.

The young man joined me, bearing his rifle, and offered to accompany me through the woods, all of which he well knew. But I was anxious to transfer to paper the form and beauty of the little bird I had in my hand; and requesting him to break a twig of blooming laurel, we returned to the house, speaking of nothing else than the picturesque beauty of the country around.

A few days passed during which I became acquainted with my hostess and her sweet children and made occasional rambles, but spent the greater portion of my time in drawing. One morning as I stood near the window of my room, I remarked a tall and powerful man alight from his horse, loose the girth of the saddle, raise the latter with one hand, pass the bridle over the head of the animal with the other and move towards the house, while the horse betook himself to the little brook to drink. I heard some movements in the room below and again the same tall person walked towards the mills and stores a few hundred yards from the house. In America, business is the first object in view at all times, and right it is that it should be so. Soon after, my hostess entered my room accompanied by the fine-looking woodsman, to whom, as Mr.
Jediah Irish, I was introduced. Reader, to describe to you the qualities of that excellent man were vain; you should know him as I do to estimate the value of such men in our sequestered forests. He not only made me welcome, but promised all his assistance in forwarding my views.

The long walks and long talks we have had together I never can forget, or the many beautiful birds which we pursued, shot and admired. The juicy venison, excellent bear flesh and delightful trout that daily formed my food, methinks I can still enjoy. And then, what pleasure I had in listening to him as he read his favorite poems of [Robert] Burns while my pencil was occupied in smoothing and softening the drawing of the bird before me! Was not this enough to recall to my mind the early impressions that had been made upon it by the description of the golden age, which I here found realized?

The Lehigh [River] about this place forms numerous short turns between the mountains and affords frequent falls, as well as below the falls deep pools, which render this stream a most valuable one for mills of any kind. Not many years before this date my host was chosen by the agent of the
Lehigh Coal Company as their millwright and manager for cutting down the fine trees which covered the mountains around. He was young, robust, active, industrious and persevering. He marched to the spot where his abode now is with some workmen, and by dint of hard labor first cleared the road mentioned above and reached the river at the center of a
bend, where he fixed on erecting various mills. The pass here is so narrow that it looks as if formed by the bursting asunder of the mountain, both sides ascending abruptly so that the place where the settlement was made is in many parts difficult of access and the road then newly cut was only sufficient to permit men and horses to come to the spot where Jediah and his men were at work. So great in fact were the difficulties of access that, as he told me, pointing to a spot about 150 feet above us, they for many months slipped from it their barreled provisions assisted by ropes to their camp below. But no sooner was the first sawmill erected than the axemen began their devastations. Trees one after another were and are yet constantly heard falling during the days; and in calm nights, the greedy mills told the sad tale that in a century the noble forests around should exist no more. Many mills were erected, many dams raised in defiance of the impetuous Lehigh. One full third of the trees have already been culled, turned into boards and floated as far as Philadelphia.

In such an undertaking the cutting of the trees is not all. They have afterwards to be hauled to the edge of the mountains bordering the river, launched into the stream and led to the mills over many shallows and difficult places. Whilst I was in the Great Pine Swamp I frequently visited one of the principal places for the launching of logs. To see them tumbling from such a height, touching here and there the rough angle of a projecting rock, bouncing from it with the elasticity of a football and at last falling with awful crash into the river forms a sight interesting in the highest degree, but impossible for me to describe. Shall I tell you that I have seen masses of these logs heaped above each other to the number of five thousand? I may so tell you, for such I have seen. My friend Irish assured me that at some seasons these piles consisted of a much greater number, the river becoming in those places completely choked up.

When
freshets
(or floods) take place, then is the time chosen for forwarding the logs to the different mills. This is called a
frolic
. Jediah Irish, who is generally the leader, proceeds to the upper leap with his men, each provided with a strong wooden handspike and a short-handled axe. They all take to the water be it summer or winter like so many Newfoundland spaniels. The logs are gradually
detached, and after a time are seen floating down the dancing stream, here striking against a rock and whirling many times round, there suddenly checked in dozens by a shallow over which they have to be forced with the handspikes. Now they arrive at the edge of a dam and are again pushed over. Certain numbers are left in each dam, and when the party has arrived at the last, which lies just where my friend Irish’s camp was first formed, the drenched leader and his men, about sixty in number, make their way home, find there a healthful repast and spend the evening and a portion of the night in dancing and frolicking in their own simple manner in the most perfect amity, seldom troubling themselves with the idea of the labor prepared for them on the morrow.

That morrow now come, one sounds a horn from the door of the storehouse, at the call of which each returns to his work. The sawyers, the millers, the rafters and raftsmen are all immediately busy. The mills are all going and the logs, which a few months before were the supporters of broad and leafy tops, are now in the act of being split asunder. The boards are then launched into the stream, and rafts are formed of them for market.

During the summer and autumnal months the Lehigh, a small river of itself, soon becomes extremely shallow, and to float the rafts would prove impossible had not art managed to provide a supply of water for this express purpose. At the breast of the lower dam is a curiously constructed lock which is opened at the approach of the rafts. They pass through this lock with the rapidity of lightning, propelled by the water that had been accumulated in the dam, and which is of itself generally sufficient to float them to
Mauch Chunk, after which, entering regular canals, they find no other impediments but are conveyed to their ultimate destination.

Before population had greatly advanced in this part of Pennsylvania, game of all descriptions found within that range was extremely abundant. The
elk itself did not disdain to browse on the shoulders of the mountains near the Lehigh.
Bears and the common
deer must have been plentiful, as at the moment when I write, many of both kinds are seen and killed by the resident hunters. The Wild Turkey, the
Pheasant and the
Grouse are also tolerably abundant; and as to trout in the streams—ah, reader, if you are an angler, do go there and try for yourself. For my part, I
can only say that I have been made weary with pulling up from the rivulets the sparkling fish allured by the struggles of the common grasshopper.