"Ripley." We are now at Halifax in Nova Scotia, but let me tell thee
how and in what manner we reached it. It was eleven last night when we
seated ourselves in the coach; the night was beautiful, and the moon
shone brightly. We could only partially observe the country until the
morning broke; but the road we can swear was hilly, and our horses
lazy, or more probably very poor. After riding twenty miles, we
stopped a good hour to change horses and warm ourselves. John went to
sleep, but the rest of us had some supper, served by a very handsome
country girl. At the call, "Coach ready!" we jumped in, and had
advanced perhaps a mile and a half when the linch-pin broke, and there
we were at a stand-still. Ingalls took charge of the horses, and
responded with great energy to the calls of the owls that came from
the depths of the woods, where they were engaged either at praying to
Diana or at calling to their parents, friends, and distant relations.
John, Lincoln, and Shattuck, always ready for a nap, made this night
no exception; Coolidge and I, not trusting altogether to Ingalls'
wakefulness, kept awake and prayed to be shortly delivered from this
most disagreeable of travelling experiences, detention--at all times
to be avoided if possible, and certainly to be dreaded on a chilly
night in this latitude. Looking up the road, the vacillating glimmer
of the flame intended to assist the coachman in the recovery of the
lost linch-pin was all that could be distinguished, for by this the
time was what is called "wolfy." The man returned, put out the
pine-knot--the linch-pin could not be found--and another quarter of an
hour was spent in repairing with all sorts of odds and ends. How much
longer Ingalls could, or would, have held the horses, we never asked
him, as from different exclamations we heard him utter we thought it
well to be silent on that subject. The day dawned fair and beautiful.
I ran a mile or so ahead of the coach to warm my feet, and afterwards
sat by the driver to obtain, if possible, some information about the
country, which became poorer and poorer as our journey proceeded. We
were all very hungry, and were told the "_stand_" stood twenty-five
miles from the lost linch-pin. I asked our driver to stop wherever he
thought we could procure a dozen or so of hard-boiled eggs and some
coffee, or indeed anything eatable; so he drew up at a house where the
owner looked us over, and said it would be quite impossible to provide
a breakfast for six persons of our appearance. We passed on and soon
came on the track of a tolerably large bear, _in the road_, and at
last reached the breakfast ground at a house on the margin of Green
Lake, a place where fish and game, in the season, abound. This lake
forms part of the channel which was intended to be cut for connecting
by canal the Atlantic, the Baie of Fundy, and the Gulf of St.
Lawrence, at Bay Verte. Ninety thousand pounds have been expended, but
the canal is not finished, and probably never will be; for we are told
the government will not assist the company by which it was undertaken,
and private spirit is slumbering. We had an excellent breakfast at
this house, seventeen miles from Halifax; this place would be a most
delightful summer residence. The road was now level, but narrow; the
flag of the Halifax garrison was seen when two miles distant. Suddenly
we turned short, and stopped at a gate fronting a wharf, where was a
small ferry-boat. Here we were detained nearly an hour; how would this
work in the States? Why did Mrs. Trollope not visit Halifax? The
number of beggarly-looking negroes and negresses would have afforded
her ample scope for contemplation and description. We crossed the
harbor, in which rode a sixty-four-gun flag-ship, and arrived at the
house of one Mr. Paul. This was the best hotel in Halifax, yet with
great difficulty we obtained _one_ room with four beds, but no private
parlor--which we thought necessary. With a population of eighteen
thousand souls, and just now two thousand soldiers added to these,
Halifax has not one good hotel, for here the attendance is miserable,
and the table far from good. We have walked about to see the town, and
all have aching feet and leg-bones in consequence of walking on hard
ground after tramping only on the softest, deepest mosses for two
months.
_August 25._ I rose at four and wrote to thee and Dr. Parkman;[237]
Shattuck wrote to his father, and he and I took these letters to an
English schooner bound to Boston. I was surprised to find every wharf
gated, the gates locked and barred, and sentinels at every point. I
searched everywhere for a barber; they do not here shave on Sunday;
finally, by dint of begging, and assuring the man that I was utterly
unacquainted with the laws of Halifax, being a stranger, my long beard
was cut at last. Four of us went to church where the Bishop read and
preached; the soldiers are divided up among the different churches and
attend in full uniform. This afternoon we saw a military burial; this
was a grand sight. The soldiers walked far apart, with arms reversed;
an excellent band executed the most solemn marches and a fine anthem.
I gave my letters from Boston to Mr. Tremaine, an amiable gentleman.
_August 26._ This day has been spent in writing letters to thyself,
Nicholas Berthoud, John Bachman, and Edward Harris; to the last I have
written a long letter describing all our voyage. I took the letters to
the "Cordelia" packet, which sails on Wednesday, and may reach Boston
before we do. I delivered my letters to Bishop Inglis and the
Chief-Justice, but were assured both were out. John and Ingalls spent
their evening very agreeably with Commissary Hewitson.
_August 27._ Breakfast eaten and bill paid, we entered the coach at
nine o'clock, which would only contain five, so though it rained one
of us sat with the driver. The road between Halifax and Windsor, where
we now are, is macadamized and good, over hills and through valleys,
and though the distance is forty-five miles, we had only one pair of
horses, which nevertheless travelled about six and a half miles an
hour. Nine miles of our road lay along the Bay of Halifax, and was
very pleasant. Here and there a country home came in sight. Our driver
told us that a French squadron was pursued by an English fleet to the
head of this bay, and the seven French vessels were compelled to
strike their colors; but the French commodore or admiral sunk all his
vessels, preferring this to surrendering them to the British. So deep
was the water that the very tops of the masts sank far out of sight,
and once only since that time, twenty years ago, have they been seen;
this was on an unusually calm, clear day seven years past. We saw _en
passant_ the abandoned lodge of Prince Edward, who spent a million
pounds on the building, grounds, etc. The whole now is in the greatest
state of ruin; thirty years have gone by since it was in its splendor.
On leaving the bay, we followed the Salmon River, a small rivulet of
swift water, which abounds in salmon, trout, and other fish. The whole
country is miserably poor, yet much cultivation is seen all the way.
Much game and good fishing was to be had round the inn where we dined;
the landlord said his terms were five dollars a week, and it would be
a pleasant summer residence. We passed the seat of Mr. Jeffries,
President of the Assembly, now Acting Governor. The house is large and
the grounds in fine order. It is between two handsome fresh-water
lakes; indeed, the country is covered with lakes, all of which are
well supplied with trout. We saw the college and the common school,
built of freestone, both handsome buildings. We crossed the head of
the St. Croix River, which rolls its impetuous waters into the Bay of
Fundy. From here to Windsor the country improved rapidly and the crops
looked well. Windsor is a neat, pretty village; the vast banks of
plaster of Paris all about it give employment to the inhabitants and
bring wealth to the place; it is shipped from here in large
quantities. Our coach stopped at the best _boarding-house_ here, for
nowhere in the Provinces have we heard of hotels; the house was full
and we were conveyed to another, where, after more than two hours'
delay, we had a very indifferent supper. Meantime we walked to see the
Windsor River, on the east bank of which the village is situated. The
view was indeed novel; the bed of the river, nearly a mile wide and
quite bare as far as eye could reach,--about ten miles. Scarcely any
water to be seen, and yet the spot where we stood, sixty-five feet
above the river bed, showed that at high tide this wonderful basin
must be filled to the brim. Opposite to us, indeed, the country is
diked in, and vessels left dry at the wharves had a strange
appearance. We are told that there have been instances when vessels
have slid sidewise from the top of the bank to the level of the
gravelly bed of the river. The shores are covered for a hundred yards
with mud of a reddish color. This conveys more the idea of a flood or
great freshet than the result of tide, and I long to see the waters of
the ocean advancing at the rate of four knots an hour to fill this
extraordinary basin; this sight I hope to enjoy to-morrow.
_August 28._ I can now say that I have seen the tide waters of the Bay
of Fundy rise sixty-five feet.[238] We were seated on one of the
wharves and saw the mass of water accumulating with a rapidity I
cannot describe. At half-flow the water rose three feet in ten
minutes, but it is even more rapid than this. A few minutes after its
greatest height is attained it begins to recede, and in a few hours
the whole bed of the river is again emptied. We rambled over the
beautiful meadows and fields, and John shot two Marsh Hawks, one of
each sex, and we saw many more. These birds here are much darker above
and much deeper rufous below, than any I ever procured in the Middle
States or farther south. Indeed, it may be said that the farther north
I have been, the deeper in tint have I found the birds. The steamboat
has just arrived, and the young men have been on board to secure our
passage. No news from the States.
_Eastport, Maine, August 31._ We arrived here yesterday afternoon in
the steamer "Maid of the Mist." We left Windsor shortly before twelve
noon, and reached St. John's, New Brunswick, at two o'clock at night.
Passed "Cape Blow-me-down," "Cape Split," and "Cape d'Or." We were
very comfortable, as there were few passengers, but the price was
sufficient for all we had, and more. We perambulated the streets of
St. John's by moonlight, and when the shops opened I purchased two
suits of excellent stuff for shooting garments. At the wharf, just as
the steamer was about to leave, I had the great pleasure of meeting my
most excellent friend Edward Harris, who gave me a letter from thee,
and the first intelligence from the big world we have left for two
months. Here we were kindly received by all our acquaintance; our
trunks were not opened, and the new clothes paid no duties; this ought
to be the case with poor students of nature all over the world. We
gave up the "Ripley" to Messrs. Buck and Tinkham, took up our quarters
with good Mr. Weston, and all began packing immediately.
We reached New York on Saturday morning, the 7th of September, and,
thank God, found all well. Whilst at Boston I wrote several letters,
one very long one to Thomas Nuttall, in which I gave him some account
of the habits of water-birds with which he was unacquainted; he sent
me an extremely kind letter in answer.
FOOTNOTES:
[172] These terms were not, however, held to by the owners of the
vessel, and the provisioning was left also to them, the whole outlay
being about $1500 for the entire trip.
[173] Now commonly spelled Canso--not Canseau.
[174] _Plectrophenax nivalis_, the Snow Bunting.--E. C.
[175] _Canachites canadensis_, the Canada Grouse.--E. C.
[176] Foolish Guillemot.
[177] Black Guillemot.
[178] Great Blue Heron.
[179] Razor-billed Auk.
[180] Spotted Sandpiper, now _Actitis macularia_.--E. C.
[181] Dusky Duck.
[182] Scoter Duck.
[183] The Least or Wilson's Sandpiper, _Tringa (Actodromas)
minutilla_.--E. C.
[184] A mistake, which Audubon later corrected. The Herring Gull is of
course quite distinct from the Black-backed. The former is of the
variety called by me _Larus argentatus smithsonianus_, as it differs
in some respects from the common Herring Gull of Europe.--E. C.
[185] Perhaps Forster's Tern, _Sterna forsteri_.--E. C.
[186] Charles Lucien Bonaparte.
[187] No doubt the common species, _Phalacrocorax carbo_, as Audubon
afterward identified it. See beyond, date of June 30.--E. C.
[188] That is, the species which Audubon named the Florida Cormorant,
_Phalacrocorax floridanus_, now known to be a small southern form of
the Double-crested Cormorant, _P. dilophus_.--E. C.
[189] This is the so-called Bridled Guillemot, _Uria ringvia_. The
white mark is not characteristic of sex, age, or season. The bird is
not specifically distinct from _Uria troile_.--E. C.
[190] _Merula migratoria_, the American Robin.
[191] Kinglet, _Regulus calendula_.--E. C.
[192] An interesting note of this new species figured in B. of Am.,
folio pl. 193, and described in Orn. Biogr. ii., 1834, p. 539. It is
now known as _Melospiza lincolni_.--E. C.
[193] The Common Puffin, now called _Fratercula arctica_.--E. C.
[194] This is the usual sailors' name of the Razor-billed Auk in
Labrador and Newfoundland, and was the only one heard by me in
Labrador in 1860 (see Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci., 1861, p. 249).--E. C.
[195] Now _Otocorys alpestris_.--E. C.
[196] Now _Anthus pennsylvanicus_.--E. C.
[197] Common Cormorant. See note on page 370.
[198] _Loxia leucoptera._
[199] _Le petit caporal, Falco temerarius_, AUD. Ornith. Biog. i.,
1831, p. 381, pl. 85. _Falco columbarius_, AUD. Ornith. Biog. i.,
1831, p. 466, pl. 92; v., 1838, p. 368. Synopsis, 1839, p. 16. B.
Amer. 8vo, ed. 1., 1840, p. 88, pl. 21. _Falco auduboni_, BLACKWALL,
Zool. Researches, 1834.--E. C.
In vol. v., p. 368, Audubon says: "The bird represented in the last
mentioned plate, and described under the name of _Falco temerarius_,
was merely a beautiful adult of the Pigeon Hawk, _F. columbarius_. The
great inferiority in size of the individual represented as _F.
temararius_ was the cause of my mistaking it for a distinct species,
and I have pleasure in stating that the Prince of Musignano [Charles
Bonaparte] was the first person who pointed out my error to me soon
after the publication of my first volume."
Bonaparte alludes to this in his edition of Wilson, vol. iii. p. 252.
[200] American Ring Plover, now known as _AEgialitis semipalmata_.--E.
C.
[201] Great Northern Diver or Loon, now called _Urinator_, or _Gavia_,
_imber_. The other Diver above mentioned as the "Scapegrace" is _U.,
or G., lumme_.
[202] Red-throated Diver, now _Urinator_, or _Gavia_, _lumme_.--E. C.
[203] The White-crowned and White-throated Sparrows are now placed in
the genus _Zonotrichia_.--E. C.
[204] Jager.
[205] Petrels, most probably _Cymochorea leucorrhoa_.--E. C.
[206] Now _L. delawarensis_, also called Ring-billed Gull.--E. C.
[207] Double-crested Cormorant.
[208] The Catchfly.
[209] Pigeon Hawk.
[210] White-crowned Sparrow.
[211] Brown Titlark.
[212] Black-poll Warbler.
[213] Savannah Finch.
[214] Double-crested Cormorant.
[215] Hudson's Bay Titmouse.
[216] The Ruffed Grouse, _Bonasa umbellus_.--E. C.
[217] Common Gull. This record raises an interesting question, which
can hardly be settled satisfactorily. _Larus canus_, the common Gull
of Europe, is given by various authors in Audubon's time, besides
himself, as a bird of the Atlantic coast of North America, from
Labrador southward. But it is not known as such to ornithologists of
the present day. The American Ornithologists' Union catalogues _L.
canus_ as merely a straggler in North America, with the query,
"accidental in Labrador?" In his Notes on the Ornithology of Labrador,
in Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci., Phila. 1861, p. 246, Dr. Coues gives _L.
delawarensis_, the Ring-billed Gull, three specimens of which he
procured at Henley Harbor, Aug. 21, 1860. These were birds of the
year, and one of them, afterward sent to England, was identified by
Mr. Howard Saunders as _L. canus_ (P.Z.S. 1877, p. 178; Cat. B. Brit.
Mus., xxv. 1896, p. 281). This would seem to bear out Audubon's
Journal; but the "Common American Gull" of his published works is the
one he calls _L. zonorhynchus_ (_i. e._, _L. delawarensis_), and on p.
155 of the Birds of Am., 8vo ed., he gives the very incident here
narrated in his Journal, as pertaining to the latter species. The
probabilities are that, notwithstanding Dr. Coues' finding of the
supposed _L. canus_ in Labrador, the whole Audubonian record really
belongs to _L. delawarensis_.--E. C.
[218] This appears to be an error, reflected in all of Audubon's
published works. The Cayenne Tern of Audubon, as described and figured
by him, is _Sterna regia_, which has never been known to occur in
Labrador. Audubon never knew the Caspian Tern, _S. tschegrava_, and it
is believed that this is the species which he saw in Labrador, and
mistook for the Cayenne Tern--as he might easily do. See Coues, Birds
of the Northwest, 1874, p. 669, where the case is noted.--E. C.
[219] Or Willow Ptarmigan, _Lagopus albus_--the same that Audubon has
already spoken of procuring and drawing; but this is the first mention
he makes which enables us to judge which of two species occurring in
Labrador he had. The other is the Rock Grouse, or Ptarmigan, _L.
rupestris_.--E. C.
[220] This is the bird which Audubon afterward identified with
_Tyrannula richardsonii_ of Swainson, Fn., Bor.-Am., ii., 1831, p.
146, pl. 46, lower fig., and published under the name of the
Short-legged Pewee or Pewit Fly-catcher, _Muscicapa phoebe_, in Orn.
Biogr., v. p. 299, pl. 434; B. Am., 8vo ed., i. p. 219, pl. 61. The
species is now well known as the Western Wood Pewee, _Contopus
richardsoni_; but it has never since Audubon's time been authenticated
as a bird of Labrador. Audubon was of course perfectly familiar with
the common Wood Pewee, _Contopus virens_, and with the Pewit
Flycatcher, _Sayornis phoebe_. We can hardly imagine him mistaken
regarding the identity of either of these familiar birds; yet there is
something about this Labrador record of supposed _C. richardsonii_
which has never been satisfactorily explained.--E. C.
[221] _Harelda hiemalis_, the Old Squaw or Long-Tailed Duck.--E. C.
[222] _Histrionicus histrionicus_, the Harlequin Duck.--E. C.
[223] The Washington Eagle, or "Bird of Washington," of Audubon's
works, is based upon the young Bald Eagle, _Haliaetus leucocephaluis_.
The bird here noted may have been either this species, or the _Aquila
chrysaetus_.--E. C.
[224] See Episode "A Labrador Squatter."
[225] Or Labrador Duck, _Camptolaemus labradorius_. This is a notable
record, considering that the species became extinct about 1875.--E. C.
[226] This is the White-winged Coot or Scoter just mentioned above,
_[OE]demia deglandi_.--E. C.
[227] Brown or Northern Phalarope.
[228] The Curlew which occurs in almost incredible numbers in Labrador
is the Eskimo, _Numenius borealis_; the one with the bill about four
inches long, also found in that country, but less commonly, is the
Hudsonian, _N. hudsonicus_. See Coues, Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci.,
Philada., 1861, p. 236.--E. C.
[229] Pomarine Jager, or Gull-hunter, now called _Stercorarius
pomarinus_.--E. C.
[230] A small village on the coast of Labrador, latitude 51 deg.; _not_
the Bras D'Or of Cape Breton Island.
[231] _Empetrum nigrum._
[232] The Purple or Rock Sandpiper, _Tringa (Arquatella)
maritima_.--E. C.
[233] Not _Ereunetes pusillus_, but the Least Sandpiper, _Tringa
(Actodromas) minutilla_, which appears as _Tringa pusilla_ in
Audubon's works.--E. C.
[234] This is the bird figured by Audubon as _Falco labradora_ on
folio pl. 196, 8vo pl. 19, but which he afterward considered to be the
same as his _F. islandicus_. It is now held, however, to represent a
dark variety of Gyrfalcon, known as _F. gyrfalco obsoletus_, confined
to Labrador and thence southward in winter to New England and New
York.--E. C.
[235] Sheep laurel.
[236] See Episode, "A Ball in Newfoundland."
[237] Dr. George Parkman, of Boston, who was murdered by Professor J.
W. Webster in Boston, November 23, 1849.
[238] See Episode, "The Bay of Fundy."
THE MISSOURI RIVER JOURNALS
1843
INTRODUCTION
This journey, which occupied within a few days of eight months,--from
March 11, 1843, to November 6 of the same year,--was undertaken in the
interest of the "Quadrupeds of North America," in which the three
Audubons and Dr. Bachman were then deeply engaged. The journey has
been only briefly touched upon in former publications, and the entire
record from August 16 until the return home was lost in the back of an
old secretary from the time of Audubon's return in November, 1843,
until August, 1896, when two of his granddaughters found it. Mrs.
Audubon states in her narrative that no record of this part of the
trip was known to exist, and none of the family now living had ever
seen it until the date mentioned.
Not only is the diary most valuable from the point of view of the
naturalist, but also from that of the historian interested in the
frontier life of those days.
M. R. A.
As the only account of the journey from New York to St. Louis which
can now be found is contained in a letter to my uncle Mr. James Hall,
dated St. Louis, March 29, 1843, the following extract is given:--
"The weather has been bad ever since we left Baltimore. There we
encountered a snow-storm that accompanied us all the way to this
very spot, and at this moment the country is whitened with this
precious, semi-congealed, heavenly dew. As to ice!--I wish it
were all in your icehouse when summer does come, should summer
show her bright features in the year of our Lord 1843. We first
encountered ice at Wheeling, and it has floated down the Ohio
all around us, as well as up the Mississippi to pleasant St.
Louis. And such a steamer as we have come in from Louisville
here!--the very filthiest of all filthy old rat-traps I ever
travelled in; and the fare worse, certainly much worse, and so
scanty withal that our worthy commander could not have given us
another meal had we been detained a night longer. I wrote a
famous long letter to my Lucy on the subject, and as I know you
will hear it, will not repeat the account of our situation on
board the 'Gallant'--a pretty name, too, but alas! her name,
like mine, is only a shadow, for as she struck a sawyer[239] one
night we all ran like mad to make ready to leap overboard; but
as God would have it, our lives and the 'Gallant,' were
spared--she from sinking, and we from swimming amid rolling and
crashing hard ice. THE LADIES screamed, the babies squalled, the
dogs yelled, the steam roared, the captain (who, by the way, is
a very gallant man) swore--not like an angel, but like the very
devil--and all was confusion and uproar, just as if Miller's
prophecy had actually been nigh. Luckily, we had had our
_supper_, as the thing was called on board the 'Gallant,' and
every man appeared to feel resolute, if not resolved to die.
"I would have given much at that moment for a picture of the
whole. Our _compagnons de voyage_, about one hundred and fifty,
were composed of Buckeyes, Wolverines, Suckers, Hoosiers, and
gamblers, with drunkards of each and every denomination, their
ladies and babies of the same nature, and specifically the
dirtiest of the dirty. We had to dip the water for washing from
the river in tin basins, soap ourselves all from the same cake,
and wipe the one hundred and fifty with the same solitary one
towel rolling over a pin, until it would have been difficult to
say, even with your keen eyes, whether it was manufactured of
hemp, tow, flax, or cotton. My bed had two sheets, of course,
measuring seven-eighths of a yard wide; my pillow was filled
with corn-shucks. Harris fared even worse than I, and our
'state-room' was evidently better fitted for the smoking of hams
than the smoking of Christians. When it rained outside, it
rained also within, and on one particular morning, when the snow
melted on the upper deck, or roof, it was a lively scene to see
each person seeking for a spot free from the many spouts
overhead.