At Charleston it was supposed that it breeds in the neighbourhood of
that city; but my friend BACHMAN while searching for their nests at
the proper season, saw that the Common Gallinule was in fact the bird
that had been taken for the Coot. My learned friend NUTTALL mentions
that a pair had bred in Fresh Pond near Boston, and that he there
saw parents and young. Some travelling lumberers assured me that the
Coot breeds in numbers in the lakes lying between Mars Hill in Maine
and the St Lawrence River; but I can find no authentic accounts of
its nest having been found in any part of the United States, although
some probably breed on the borders of our northern lakes.
In Louisiana, this species is named _Poule d’Eau_, which is also
applied to _Rallus crepitans_. In all other parts of the Union, it is
known by the names of Mud Hen and Coot. The appellation of “Flusterers”
given to it by Mr LAWSON in his History of South Carolina, never came
to my ear, during my visits to that State.
These birds are frequently caught in the nets placed across the bayous
of the lakes in the neighbourhood of New Orleans, for the purpose of
catching Blue-winged Teals and other Ducks. They come against them
while flying, but if the hunter is not extremely quick they make
their escape by nimbly scrambling up, using their bill and feet until
they reach the outer part of the net, when they drop into the water
like so many terapins. At times they congregate in vast numbers, and
swim so closely that a hunter in my employ, while on Lake Barataria,
killed eighty at a single shot. They are extremely abundant in the
New Orleans’ markets during the latter part of autumn and in winter,
when the negroes and the poorer classes purchase them to make “gombo.”
In preparing them for cooking, they skin them like rabbits instead
of plucking them.
Both old and young birds differ considerably in size and weight.
The male, from which I drew the figure in the plate, was procured
at General HERNANDEZ’s, in East Florida, and was among the best of
about thirty shot on one of my excursions there.
FULICA AMERICANA, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 779.—_Ch.
Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 338.
COMMON COOT, FULICA ATRA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. ix.
p. 61. pl. 73. fig. 1.
CINEREOUS COOT, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 229.
Adult Male. Plate CCXXXIX.
Bill about the same length as the head, stout, straight, compressed,
higher than broad at the base. Upper mandible with the dorsal line
straight and slightly sloping, towards the end slightly arched and
deflected, the ridge flattish at the base, and continuous with an
oblong soft tumid plate which ascends on the forehead, the rest of the
ridge convex; sides rapidly slopping, edges overlapping, sharp, with
a slight notch close to the obtuse tip. Nasal groove wide, extending
to two-thirds of the whole length of the mandible, filled with a soft
bare membrane; nostrils linear, medial, lateral, direct, pervious.
Lower mandible with the angle long, narrow, rounded, the dorsal line
nearly straight, the sides flattish, the edges sharp.
Head small, oblong, much compressed. Neck of moderate length, slender.
Body rather full, compressed. Feet of moderate length, strong; tibia
bare a short way above the joint; tarsus rather short, compressed,
broader below, anteriorly covered with broad scutella, laterally
with angular scales, on the outer side behind a row of scutelliform
scales; hind toe short, slender; middle toe longest, fourth longer
than second; toes scutellate above, hind one with an inferior lobe,
second with two larger inner and two smaller outer rounded lobes;
third with three, fourth with four on each side; claws of moderate
length, slightly arched, much compressed, acute, the middle one with
a thin inner edge.
Plumage very soft and blended, on the head and neck short. Wings short,
broad, rounded; primaries curved, second longest, third little shorter,
first rather longer than sixth, all broad and rounded; secondaries
broad, rounded with a minute tip, the inner elongated and tapering.
Tail very short, much rounded, of twelve weak rounded feathers; the
upper and lower coverts nearly as long as the tail-feathers.
Bill greyish-white, with a dusky spot on each mandible towards the
end; frontal callosity white during life, brownish-red after death.
Head and neck greyish-black, the upper parts deep bluish-grey, with
an olivaceous tinge on the scapulars and inner secondaries. Quills
greyish-brown, darker towards the tips; the edge of the wings, outer
margin of first quill, and tips of outer secondaries, white. Tail
brownish-black; lower tail-coverts white. The breast and abdomen
are light bluish-grey, the latter paler, the sides darker; the lower
surface of the wings of the same dull leaden tint.
Length to end of tail 13-10/12 inches, to end of wings 14-5/12, to end
of claws 18-3/4; extent of wings 25; wing from flexure 7-1/2; tail
2-3/4; bill along the back 1-7/12, along the edge of lower mandible
1-2/12; bare part of tibia 3/4; tarsus 2; middle toe 2-8/12, its claw
(7-1/2)/12. Weight 1 lb.
THE ROSEATE TERN.
_STERNA DOUGALLII_, MONT.
PLATE CCXL. ADULT.
On the 28th of April 1832, it was my lot to be on the beautiful rocky
islet named Indian Key, where I spent a few hours of the night in
unsuccessful attempts to procure repose, which was effectually banished
by the consciousness of my being in a portion of the country not yet
examined by any industrious student of nature, and in which I expected
to find much that would prove interesting. The rain fell in torrents,
and the rattling of the large drops on the shingles of the veranda in
which my hammock had been slung, together with the chillness of the
air, contributed to keep me awake. Finding it useless to remain in
bed, I roused my companions; it was just four o’clock, and in a few
minutes all the people in the house were up, and breakfast preparing.
Before six the rain abated, and as I was determined not to lose a day,
the guns were mustered, we made our way to the boats, and pushed off
through a gentle shower in quest of unknown birds! In about an hour
the rain ceased, the sky gradually cleared, and the sun soon dried
our clothes. About this time we observed a great number of Terns on
a sand bar, which we approached. The birds were not shy, so that we
obtained an opportunity of firing two guns at them, when we leaped
out, and on wading to the shore picked up thirty-eight Roseate Terns
and several of another species.
Beautiful, indeed, are Terns of every kind, but the Roseate excels
the rest, if not in form, yet in the lovely hue of its breast. I had
never seen a bird of this species before, and as the unscathed hundreds
arose and danced as it were in the air, I thought them the Humming
Birds of the sea, so light and graceful were their movements. Now
they flocked together and hovered over us, again with a sudden dash
they plunged towards us in anger; even their cries of wrath sounded
musical, and although I had carried destruction among them, I felt
delighted. As I have just said, I had not before seen a Roseate Tern,
not even the skin of one stuffed with tow; the species was not in the
Synopsis of my friend BONAPARTE, and now I had my cap filled to the
brim with specimens. You may rest assured that I took precious care of
those which I had procured, but not another individual was robbed of
life on that excursion. The other Terns were as new to me. I observed
the form of their black bill and feet, the yellow tip of the former,
and wrapped them up with care, while I tried to recollect the name
they bore in books. To have found hundreds of the Roseate Tern in the
Floridas, while I had anxious but slender hopes of meeting it on the
coast of Labrador, was to me quite astonishing. So it was, however,
and I determined to ransack every key and sand-beach, to try to find
its breeding-ground. Nor were my desires ungratified.
The Roseate Tern spends the breeding season along the southern shores
of the Floridas in considerable numbers. At different times in the
course of nearly three months which I spent among the keys, I saw
flocks of twenty, thirty, or more pairs, breeding on small detached
rocky islands, scantily furnished with grass, and in the company
of hundreds of Sandwich Terns. The two species appeared to agree
well together, and their nests were intermingled. The full number
of eggs of the present species is three. They differ considerably
in size and markings; their average length, however, is an inch and
three quarters, their breadth an inch and one-eighth; they are of a
longish oval shape, rather narrowed at the small end, of a dull buff
or clay colour, sparingly sprinkled and spotted with different tints
of umber and light purple. They were deposited on the bare rocks,
among the roots of the grasses, and left in fair weather to the heat
of the sun. Like those of the Common Tern and other species, they are
delicious eating. The eggs of the Sandwich Tern were more attended
to during the day, but toward night both species sat on their eggs.
I did not see any of the young, but procured a good number of those
of the preceding year, which kept apart from the old birds, but had
in all respects the same habits.
The Roseate Tern is at all times a noisy, restless bird; and on
approaching its breeding place, it incessantly emits its sharp shrill
cries, resembling the syllable _crāk_. Its flight is unsteady and
flickering, like that of the Arctic or Lesser Terns, but rather
more buoyant and graceful. They would dash at us and be off again
with astonishing quickness, making great use of their tail on such
occasions. While in search of prey, they carry the bill in the manner
of the Common Tern, that is perpendicularly downward, plunge like a
shot, with wings nearly closed, so as to immerse part of the body,
and immediately reascend. They were seen dipping in this manner eight
or ten times in succession, and each time generally secured a small
fish. Their food consisted of fishes, and a kind of small molluscous
animal which floats near the surface, and bears the name of “sailor’s
button.” They usually kept in parties of from ten to twenty, followed
the shores of the sand-bars and keys, moving backwards and forwards
much in the manner of the Lesser Tern, and wherever a shoal of small
fish was found, there they would hover and dash headlong at them for
several minutes at a time.
The wreckers informed me that this species returns regularly to these
islands each spring, about the 10th of April, and goes off southward
early in September. These birds, with their favourite companions the
Sandwich Terns, habitually resorted to the sand-bars each day, to
rest for an hour or two. I have never seen them on any part of our
middle or eastern coast, and am of opinion that they rarely proceed
farther eastward than the Capes of Florida, and that they are more
attached to the immediate vicinity of the shores than the larger
species, which more generally fly out to some distance. The delicate
and beautiful rosy tint of the breast soon fades after death. Those
specimens which were not skinned immediately after being procured
did not retain it for a week, and in none of them was it perceptible,
without separating the feathers, at the end of a month. In winter it
disappears, as well as the glossy black of the head. The length of
the outer tail-feathers varies considerably; but I could perceive no
decided difference of size or colour in the sexes, although I thought
the females somewhat smaller than the males.
STERNA DOUGALLII, _Mont._ Ornith. Dict.
HIRONDELLE-DE-MER DOUGALL, STERNA DOUGALLII, _Temm._ Man.
d’Ornith. part ii. p. 738.
ROSEATE TERN, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 278.
Adult Male. Plate CCXL.
Bill longer than the head, slender, tapering, compressed, nearly
straight, very acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly
arched, the ridge rather broad and convex at the base, narrow towards
the end, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip
acute. Nasal groove short, extended to one-third of the length of
the bill, deflected towards the edge; nostrils basal, linear, direct,
pervious. Lower mandible with the angle extremely narrow, very acute,
extending to a little beyond the middle, the dorsal line straight,
the sides convex, the sharp edges inflected, the tip extremely acute.
Head of moderate size, oblong; neck of moderate length; body very
slender; feet small; wings and tail very long. Tibia bare for a
considerable space; tarsus very short, slender, roundish, covered
anteriorly with small scutella, laterally and behind with reticular
scales; toes small, slender, the first very small, the third longest,
the fourth nearly as long, the second much shorter, all scutellate
above, the anterior united by reticulated webs having a concave margin;
claws curved, compressed, acute, that of hind toe smallest, of middle
toe by much the largest, and having the inner edge thin and dilated.
Plumage soft, close, blended, very short on the head; the feathers
in general broad and rounded. Wings very long, narrow, and pointed;
primary quills tapering, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated;
secondary short, broad, incurved, rounded, the inner more tapering.
Tail long, very deeply forked, of twelve feathers, of which the outer
are tapering, the middle short and rounded.
Bill brownish-black, deep orange at the base. Iris brown. Feet
vermilion; claws blackish-brown, yellow at the base. The upper part
of the head and elongated occipital feathers greenish-black; the
hind neck white, the rest of the upper parts pale bluish-grey, the
tail lighter; the edges of the wings, the tips and inner edges of
the quills, and the shafts white. The first primary is black on the
outer web and part of the inner, the next two are similarly marked,
but with the black shaded over with pale grey, the loose barbules
being of that colour; the other primaries become gradually lighter.
The lower parts are of a beautiful light roseate hue, which soon
fades after death; the under surface of wings and tail white.
Length to end of tail 14-10/12 inches, to end of wings 12, to end of
claws 9-4/12; extent of wings 30; wing from flexure 9-1/2; tail to end
of shortest feathers 4-3/4, to end of longest feathers 7-1/2; bill along
the ridge 1-1/2, along the edge of lower mandible 2-1/12; tarsus 10/12,
middle toe 10/12 its claw (3-1/2)/12.
REMINISCENCES OF THOMAS BEWICK.
Through the kindness of Mr SELBY of Twizel-House in Northumberland,
I had anticipated the pleasure of forming an acquaintance with the
celebrated and estimable BEWICK, whose works indicate an era in the
history of the art of engraving on wood. In my progress southward,
after leaving Edinburgh in 1827, I reached Newcastle-upon-Tyne about
the middle of April, when Nature had begun to decorate anew the rich
country around. The lark was in full song, the blackbird rioted in
the exuberance of joy, the husbandman cheerily plied his healthful
labours, and I, although a stranger in a foreign land, felt delighted
with all around me, for I had formed friends who were courteous and
kind, and whose favour I had reason to hope would continue. Nor have
I been disappointed in my expectations.
BEWICK must have heard of my arrival at Newcastle before I had
an opportunity of calling upon him, for he sent me by his son the
following note:—“T. BEWICK’s compliments to Mr AUDUBON, and will be
glad of the honour of his company this day to tea at six o’clock.”
These few words at once proved to me the kindness of his nature, and,
as my labours were closed for the day, I accompanied the son to his
father’s house.
As yet I had seen but little of the town, and had never crossed the
Tyne. The first remarkable object that attracted my notice was a fine
church, which my companion informed me was that of St Nicholas. Passing
over the river by a stone bridge of several arches, I saw by the wharfs
a considerable number of vessels, among which I distinguished some
of American construction. The shores on either side were pleasant,
the undulated ground being ornamented with buildings, windmills, and
glassworks. On the water glided, or were swept along by great oars,
boats of singular form, deeply laden with the subterranean produce
of the hills around.
At length we reached the dwelling of the Engraver, and I was at once
shewn to his workshop. There I met the old man, who, coming towards
me, welcomed me with a hearty shake of the hand, and for a moment took
off a cotton night-cap, somewhat soiled by the smoke of the place. He
was a tall stout man, with a large head, and with eyes placed farther
apart than those of any man that I have ever seen:—a perfect old
Englishman, full of life, although seventy-four years of age, active
and prompt in his labours. Presently he proposed shewing me the work
he was at, and went on with his tools. It was a small vignette, cut
on a block of boxwood not more than three by two inches in surface,
and represented a dog frightened at night by what he fancied to be
living objects, but which were actually roots and branches of trees,
rocks, and other objects bearing the semblance of men. This curious
piece of art, like all his works, was exquisite, and more than once
did I feel strongly tempted to ask a rejected bit, but was prevented
by his inviting me up stairs, where, he said, I should soon meet all
the best artists of Newcastle.
There I was introduced to the Misses BEWICK, amiable and affable
ladies, who manifested all anxiety to render my visit agreeable.
Among the visitors I saw a Mr GOUD, and was highly pleased with one
of the productions of his pencil, a full length miniature in oil of
BEWICK, well drawn, and highly finished.
The old gentleman and I stuck to each other, he talking of my drawings,
I of his wood-cuts. Now and then he would take off his cap, and draw
up his grey worsted stockings to his nether clothes; but whenever our
conversation became animated, the replaced cap was left sticking as
if by magic to the hind part of his head, the neglected hose resumed
their downward tendency, his fine eyes sparkled, and he delivered
his sentiments with a freedom and vivacity which afforded me great
pleasure. He said he had heard that my drawings had been exhibited
in Liverpool, and felt great anxiety to see some of them, which he
proposed to gratify by visiting me early next morning along with his
daughters and a few friends. Recollecting at that moment how desirous
my sons, then in Kentucky, were to have a copy of his works on
Quadrupeds, I asked him where I could procure one, when he immediately
answered “Here,” and forthwith presented me with a beautiful set.
The tea-drinking having in due time come to an end, young BEWICK,
to amuse me, brought a bagpipe of a new construction, called the
Durham Pipe, and played some simple Scotch, English and Irish airs,
all sweet and pleasing to my taste. I could scarcely understand how,
with his large fingers, he managed to cover each hole separately.
The instrument sounded somewhat like a hautboy, and had none of the
shrill warlike notes or booming sound of the military bagpipe of the
Scotch Highlanders. The company dispersed at any early hour, and when
I parted from BEWICK that night, I parted from a friend.
A few days after this I received another note from him, which I
read hastily, having with me at the moment many persons examining
my drawings. This note having, as I understood it, intimated his
desire that I should go and dine with him that day, I accordingly
went; but judge of my surprise when, on arriving at his house at 5
o’clock, with an appetite becoming the occasion, I discovered that
I had been invited to tea and not to dinner. However, the mistake
was speedily cleared up to the satisfaction of all parties, and an
abundant supply of eatables was placed on the table. The Reverend
WILLIAM TURNER joined us, and the evening passed delightfully. At
first our conversation was desultory and multifarious, but when the
table was removed, BEWICK took his seat by the fire, and we talked of
our more immediate concerns. In due time we took leave, and returned
to our homes, pleased with each other and with our host.
Having been invited the previous evening to breakfast with BEWICK
at 8, I revisited him at that hour on the 16th April, and found the
whole family so kind and attentive that I felt quite at home. The good
gentleman, after breakfast, soon betook himself to his labours, and
began to shew me, as he laughingly said, how easy it was to cut wood;
but I soon saw that cutting wood in his style and manner was no joke,
although to him it seemed indeed easy. His delicate and beautiful
tools were all made by himself, and I may with truth say that his shop
was the only artist’s “shop” that I ever found perfectly clean and
tidy. In the course of the day BEWICK called upon me again, and put
down his name on my list of subscribers in behalf of the Literary and
Philosophical Society of Newcastle. In this, however, his enthusiasm
had misled him, for the learned body for which he took upon himself
to act, did not think proper to ratify the compact.
Another invitation having come to me from Gatehead, I found my good
friend seated in his usual place. His countenance seemed to me to
beam with pleasure as he shook my hand. “I could not bear the idea,”
said he, “of your going off, without telling you, in written words,
what I think of your Birds of America. Here it is in black and white,
and make of it what use you may, if it be of use at all.” I put the
unsealed letter in my pocket, and we chatted on subjects connected with
natural history. Now and then he would start and exclaim, “Oh, that
I were young again! I would go to America too. Hey! what a country it
will be, Mr AUDUBON.” I retorted by exclaiming, “Hey! what a country
it is already, Mr BEWICK!” In the midst of our conversation on birds
and other animals, he drank my health and the peace of all the world
in hot brandy toddy, and I returned the compliment, wishing, no doubt
in accordance with his own sentiments, the health of all our enemies.
His daughters enjoyed the scene, and remarked, that for years, their
father had not been in such a flow of spirits.
I regret that I have not by me at present the letter which this
generous and worthy man gave me that evening, otherwise, for his sake,
I should have presented you with it. It is in careful keeping, however,
as a memorial of a man whose memory is dear to me; and be assured I
regard it with quite as much pleasure as a manuscript “Synopsis of
the Birds of America,” by ALEXANDER WILSON, which that celebrated
individual gave to me at Louisville in Kentucky, more than twenty
years ago. BEWICK’s letter, however, will be presented to you along
with many others, in connection with some strange facts, which I hope
may be useful to the world. We protracted our conversation beyond
our usual time of retiring to rest, and at his earnest request, and
much to my satisfaction, I promised to spend the next evening with
him, as it was to be my last at Newcastle for some time.
On the 19th of the same month I paid him my last visit, at his house.
When we parted, he repeated three times, “God preserve you, God
bless you!” He must have been sensible of the emotion which I felt,
and which he must have read in my looks, although I refrained from
speaking on the occasion.
A few weeks previous to the death of this fervent admirer of nature,
he and his daughters paid me a visit in London. He looked as well
as when I had seen him at Newcastle. Our interview was short but
agreeable, and when he bade adieu, I was certainly far from thinking
that it might be the last. But so it was, for only a very short time
had elapsed when I saw his death announced in the newspapers.