CHAPTER XXXI

THIRD AMERICAN TOUR, 1836-1837

In New York harbor—Collections from the Far West—Audubon's efforts to secure them—Return to Boston—Friendship of Daniel Webster—Renewed efforts to obtain the Nuttall-Townsend collection—Expedition to the west coast of Florida—Deferred governmental aid—Another winter with Bachman—Overland journey to New Orleans—On board the _Crusader_—Mistaken for pirates—With Harris and his son explores the Gulf Coast—The Republic of Texas—Visit to its capital and president—Meeting in Charleston—Marriage of his son—Their return to England.

Audubon left London with his son, John, July 30, 1836, and on the second day of August sailed from Portsmouth on the packet _Gladiator_, bound for New York. Two hundred and sixty live birds had preceded them to the ship, while three dogs came as a present from the Earl of Derby, and "a brace of tailless cats from our friend George Thackeray, D.D., provost of King's College": all had suffered somewhat from lack of care, but the dogs, one of which was sent to John Bachman of Charleston, and some of the birds crossed the Atlantic in safety. Five weeks were spent at sea; when the Navesink Highlands at last hove into view the welcome news spread rapidly over the ship; rockets were sent up later to attract a pilot, and when anchor was grounded on American soil, Audubon confessed that he cried like a child and devoutly thanked God for their preservation. He continued:

All was now bustle and mutual congratulations; our commander was praised for his skill by some, and others praised his whisky, which the waiters handed about, and the night was nearly spent in revelry; but John and myself retired at two o'clock.... As a gleam of daylight appeared, my eyes searched through the hazy atmosphere to catch a glimpse of the land, and gradually Staten Island opened to my view; then the boat of the custom-house appeared, and soon he boarded us, arranged the sailors and passengers on deck, and called their names. Then followed breakfast, and soon another boat, with a yellow flag flying, landed the health officer, and there being no sickness on board, myself and John returned to Staten Island in the doctor's boat, and were taken by the steamer Hercules to the city.[131]

Audubon remained in New York from the 7th to the 13th of September. On Sunday, the 12th, he wrote to Edward Harris, in part as follows:[132]

_Audubon to Edward Harris_

MY DEAR FRIEND—

... Whilst running over the interesting list of the Species of Birds procured by Nuttall & Townsend in the Rocky Mountains, and the shores of the Pacific, I became so completely wrapt up with the desire to see these as soon as possible that I have concluded to go to Philadelphia tomorrow by the 10 o'clock boat. I will stay at Harlan's for two or three days and hope that you will meet me there, that I may have the pleasure of pressing your hand and talking to you.

You well know how anxious I am to make my work on the Birds of our Country as compleat as possible within my power:—you know that to reach this end I have spared neither time, labours or money: you are also aware that although this undertaking may never remunerate me, I am so enthusiastic as to indulge in the hope that God will grant me life to effect all this; but I am becoming old, and though very willing doubt whether I could support the fatigues connected with a journey of several years, and separated from my dear Family. Well the desiderata has come to Philadelphia at least in part, and if I could be allowed to pourtray the new species now there as an appendix to the Birds of America, I should be proud and happy to do so, but do you think that the Academy is likely to indulge me in this my wish? Do join me at Harlan's as soon as you can, and lend me a hand and try to promote my views through mutual Friends attatched to that Institution.

Audubon also communicated at once with John Bachman, whom he had planned to visit on his journey south, but soon learned that the cholera had broken out in Charleston and that the Seminoles were on the warpath in Florida. Said Bachman, writing on September 14:

With regard to Florida, nothing will be done by naturalists for at least two years. Your Indian friends, the cut-throats, have scalped almost every woman and child south of St. Augustine, save those on Key West. They have burnt and plundered every plantation; and although they will probably be, in a great measure, put down next winter, yet there will, undoubtedly, remain many small predatory bands that will make no bones of scalping at Ornithologist _secundum artem_; and would ask no questions whether he were the friend or enemy of William Penn. Of Texas, I think better, and thither, or along its borders, you may, I think, venture—for the Texans are our friends. I suppose Genl. Gaines will keep the Comanches quiet.[133]

Bachman kept his friends informed of the progress of the epidemic, which had placed an embargo over his city; at the same time he sent news of the Anhingas, Caracara Eagles and Cormorants, which had been successfully held in captivity for the naturalist, and added: "These are awful times in money matters, but of this you will hear enough when we meet. Everyone nearly has failed, but the Parsons and Ornithologists."

On September 13 Audubon started for Philadelphia, anxious to see with his own eyes those western collections which had so stirred his curiosity. It seems that in 1834, Dr. Thomas Nuttall and Dr. John Kirk Townsend set out on a journey to the mouth of the Columbia River; Nuttall was first of all a botanist, and is said to have carried no gun, but Townsend was an experienced ornithologist and made extensive collections of birds, a part of which he sent in care of Nuttall to Philadelphia in 1835, although he himself did not return east until the close of 1837. One of Audubon's great ambitions had been to explore the regions which they had recently visited, and in the circumstances we can sympathize with his desire to acquire so valuable an acquisition for the work upon which he had been long engaged. The object of his immediate quest apparently had been entrusted to the Academy of Natural Sciences, an institution which had not always shown itself friendly to his claims, and which in this instance is said to have assisted the travelers with funds to prosecute their journey. The collection, said Audubon, contained "about forty new species of birds, and its value cannot be described." Balked in his initial efforts to obtain the coveted prize, after two days of fruitless efforts on the part of his Philadelphia friends, he returned to New York; Edward Harris then came forward with the offer of $500 for the purchase of the collection outright, but negotiations were not immediately successful.

With his hunger still unappeased, Audubon now visited Boston on a canvassing tour, while his son remained with Nicholas Berthoud at New York. Setting out on the 20th of September, he traveled by the steamer _Massachusetts_ and the Providence Railroad, paying seven dollars fare, "which included supper and breakfast"; the sail up Providence Bay in early morning was like a "fairy dream," and the locomotive in waiting then pulled the passengers from "Providence to Boston at the rate of fifteen miles an hour." We arrived, said he, at four in the afternoon: "a cart took my trunk, and placing myself by the side of the owner, we drove to the house of my friend, Dr. George C. Shattuck."

On the day after his arrival, Audubon visited Thomas M. Brewer, then a young ornithologist living at Roxbury, to examine his collection of bird skins and eggs, and upon his return called on David Eckley, "the great salmon fisher," to whom he later presented a copy of his folio plates of _The Birds of America_.[134] Brewer, who later became a physician and distinguished ornithologist, for many years was one of Audubon's valued correspondents and supplied him with much interesting material. On the following day Audubon met Thomas Nuttall,[135] who at once promised him duplicates of all the new birds which he had brought from the West. Colonel Thomas H. Perkins, an early subscriber, Edward Everett, who had befriended him in Washington, and who in 1836 became Governor of Massachusetts, Josiah Quincy, president of Harvard College, Dr. Bowditch, and other prominent characters, all extended a helping hand. He visited Salem to deliver his letters, and was successful in obtaining a number of subscribers; upon invitation of the curator of the Natural History Society there, he examined "the young collection of that newborn institution," and had "the good fortune to find one egg of the American bittern." On the 25th of September he wrote Harris: "Nuttall has arrived—he breakfasted with me the other day—gave me 6 new species of Birds and tells me that he will urge both Townsend and the Society at Philadelphia to allow me to portray all the species which they have procured within the limits of our Territories."

In Boston, September 27, 1836, Audubon made this note in his journal:[136] "The citizens are all excitement; guns are firing, flags flying, and troops parading and John Quincy Adams is delivering a eulogy on the late President Madison. The mayor of Boston did me the honor to invite me to join in the procession, but I am no politician and declined." He noted on the same day also that Dr. Shattuck had completed the subscription list of the Boston Society of Natural History "by presenting me to his lady, who subscribed for one-tenth, and the Dr. then put down his son George's name for one-twentieth, making his own family one-fourth of the whole, or two hundred and twenty dollars, for which he gave me his cheque. Without the assistance of this generous man, it is more than probable that the Society never would have had a copy of 'The Birds of America.'" Two days later he met Daniel Webster at the rooms of the Historical Society, and on the same evening at the home of Isaac P. Davis, where, said Audubon, "we took tea, talked on ornithology and ornithologists; he promised to send me some specimens of birds, and finished by subscribing to my work." Webster also gave him a general note of recommendation, in which he said:[137] "I take this mode of commending Mr. Audubon to any friends of mine he may meet in his journey to the west. I have not only great respect for Mr. Audubon's scientific pursuits, but entertain for him personally much esteem and hearty good wishes." Mr. Davis exerted his influence in other directions, and in this instance acted as agent for the transmission of Audubon's plates to their distinguished friend; on October 7, he wrote:[138] "I received the half Nos of the 'Birds of America' for the worthy and sublime Danl. Webster—they shall be delivered safely on his return." After urging Audubon to visit Buffalo, where Dr. Bowditch and his friends thought that a number of new subscribers might be procured, he appended a list of twelve likely names of residents of that city, and added: "Bowdoin College shall be remembered as the opportunity offers."

Webster, who was an ardent sportsman and well acquainted with the water fowl of the coast, had volunteered to procure for Audubon specimens of the Labrador Duck, which was even then extremely rare and has since become extinct, but was unable to fulfill his promise. Audubon had already found that many American birds, like the common crow, which had been regarded as identical with those of the Old World, were in reality distinct, and was now anxious, as he wrote to Thomas Brewer, "to compare the anatomy of all our birds with those of the same families in Europe." His letters to young Brewer at this time show how eager he was to secure the promised specimens. On October 23 he wrote from Philadelphia: "I hope you will not forget to call on our enlightened statesman D. Webster, and remind him of his kind promise to assist you in the procuring of specimens for me. This winter and next spring are my only chances, and I beg you to do all you can for me." He wrote again from Charleston, January 1, 1837: "I am sorry that the Hon. D. Webster has not attended to his promises, and will write to him; yet I would beg you, being on the spot, _to trouble him a good deal_."[139]

After returning to New York, Audubon had a visitor for whom he expressed the greatest admiration, Washington Irving, who had aided him in 1833; he now received from his hands letters to Martin Van Buren, the President-elect, and Benjamin F. Butler, who then occupied the post of Attorney-General. Irving called attention in his letter to the national character of Audubon's work, and warmly commended it to the patronage of the country at large. On October 8 Audubon wrote MacGillivray from New York that he had obtained twelve new subscribers, two at Salem, four at Boston, and six in New York, but a little later, through the aid of Nicholas Berthoud, in one week's time eighteen new names were added to his subscription list in New York City alone.

Meanwhile Nuttall's and Townsend's birds had not been forgotten, and on October 15 he started with his son for Philadelphia, where he was again welcomed by Dr. Richard Harlan. No sooner, however, were efforts renewed to gain permission to study the desired objects than new obstacles were encountered. To quote the naturalist:[140]

Having obtained access to the collection sent by Dr. Townsend, I turned over and over the new and rare species, but he was absent at Fort Vancouver, on the shores of the Columbia River; Thomas Nuttall had not yet come from Boston, and loud murmurs were uttered by the _soi-disant_ friends of science, who objected to my seeing, much less portraying and describing, those valuable relics of birds, many of which had not yet been introduced into our Fauna.

At length, "it was agreed," to continue his account of the transaction,

that I might _purchase duplicates, provided_ the specific names agreed upon by Mr. Nuttall and myself were published in Dr. Townsend's name. This latter part of the affair was perfectly agreeable to my feelings, as I have seldom cared much about priority in the naming of species. I therefore paid for the skins which I received, and have now published such as proved to be new, according to my promise. But, let me assure you, Reader, that seldom, if ever in my life, have I felt more disgusted with the conduct of any opponents of mine, than I was with the unfriendly boasters of their zeal for the advancement of ornithological science, who at that time existed in the fair city of Philadelphia.

While still in Philadelphia, on October 23, Audubon wrote to Thomas Brewer that Dr. Morton, the corresponding secretary of the Academy, had not only permitted him to portray the new birds but had sold him "ninety odd of the skins, forming a portion of the collection," and added that with his other acquisitions they would swell his "catalogue to the number of 475, all of which must be introduced in my fourth volume."

For many years Audubon had expressed great contempt for all seekers after priority in the naming of new species of animals, but now he began to find the pressure from without too strong to be resisted. Rivalry in this field had become keen on both sides of the Atlantic, and in the commendable desire to render his work as complete as possible, he was inevitably drawn into a struggle in which the higher aspirations of scientific men are all too apt to be obscured by petty vanities, suspicions and disputes.

While at Philadelphia Audubon paid this fine tribute to the ornithologist whom he had met at Louisville twenty-six years before, and whose name had long been a cover for the jealousies and animosities of supposititious friends: "Passed poor Alexander Wilson's schoolhouse, and heaved a sigh. Alas, poor Wilson! Would that I could once more speak to thee, and listen to thy voice!"

Audubon was planning during the coming year to explore the west coast of Florida, in company with his son and Edward Harris, and to proceed as far as possible along the coast of Texas. From Philadelphia he went to Baltimore, and on November 8 he arrived at Washington. His steadfast friend and supporter, Colonel John James Abert, then at the head of the Topographical Bureau, took him to the White House to call on President Andrew Jackson and present his letters. The General, said Audubon, looked well and was smoking a pipe; after reading his letters attentively, he said at once: "Mr. Audubon, I will do all in my power to serve you, but the Seminole war, will, I fear, prevent you from having a cutter; however, as we shall have a committee at twelve o'clock, we will consider this, and give you an answer tomorrow." Levi Woodbury, Secretary of the Treasury, was as friendly as ever, and offered the party passage to Charleston on the _Campbell_, a vessel of fifty-five tons carrying three guns and twenty-one men, but Audubon, who was a poor sailor, preferred to travel by land and await the coming of this boat at the Bachman home. Before leaving the capital the naturalist and his son were invited to dine informally at the White House, and he had the opportunity of studying at close range "a man who had done much good and much evil to our country." Said Audubon of this dinner:

I sat close to him; we spoke of olden times, and touched slightly on politics, and I found him very averse to the cause of the Texans.... The dinner was what might be called plain and substantial in England; I dined from a fine young turkey, shot within twenty miles of Washington. The general drank no wine, but his health was drunk by us more than once; and he ate very moderately, his last dish consisting of bread and milk.[141]

Audubon, with his son, John, left Washington on the 10th of November, and after traveling six days on one of "the most extraordinary railroads in the world," they reached the city of Charleston, where, under the hospitable roof of John Bachman, the party eventually passed the winter, though momentarily expecting their vessel, which did not arrive. During this long interval of waiting, Audubon made drawings of all the new birds in the Nuttall-Townsend collection, representing upwards of seventy figures, and Miss Maria Martin, Bachman's sister-in-law, again assisted him in drawing plants and insects.

As spring approached and the long awaited _Campbell_ had not arrived, Audubon, with Harris and John, started overland for New Orleans. After several days of hard traveling by coaches they reached Montgomery, and descended the Alabama River by steamboat to Mobile. When that district had been ransacked for birds, they went on to Pensacola, where they learned that the Government cutter would soon be at their service at New Orleans; accordingly they retraced their steps to Mobile, passed through the lakes, and entered the southern capital, the city in which the naturalist had nearly starved, a penniless stranger, sixteen years before, but which, less than three-quarters of a century later, was to raise a monument to his memory. He was still destined to a degree of disappointment, when it was learned that the _Campbell_ could not be put in readiness before the last of March, but he was delighted to find that the old pilot of the _Marion_, Napoleon Coste, was to command this vessel. At New Orleans Audubon met for the last time "good M. Le Sueur," artist and naturalist, who had spent many years at New Harmony, Indiana, and whose acquaintance he had first made at Philadelphia in 1824.

Audubon and his party finally left New Orleans on the 1st of April and entered the Gulf by the Southwest Pass, where, on the 3rd of the month, they were joined by the _Crusader_, a schooner of twelve tons which was attached to the Revenue Service; on this journey she carried a crew of four, with as many guns, and acted as a tender to the larger vessel. The expedition was provisioned for two months, and aimed to explore the keys, bayous and shoreline from the Mississippi to the Bay of Galveston. Some of Audubon's experiences on this cruise were described in a letter to William MacGillivray,[142] dated "Côte Blanche, 18 April, 1837," which we will now reproduce:

_Audubon to William MacGillivray_

MY DEAR FRIEND,—

Being just now snugly anchored in a bay, the description of which may prove agreeable to you, I sit down to give you an account of what I have been doing since I last wrote to you.

After visiting "Rabbit Island," on which, as I have already told you, not a single Rabbit or Hare is to be seen, we made our way between it and Frisky Point, by a narrow and somewhat difficult channel leading to the bay in which I now write. The shores around us are entirely formed of a bank, from twenty to thirty feet high, and composed of concrete shells of various kinds, among which the Common Oyster, however, predominates. This bank, which at present looks as if bleached by the sunshine and rain of centuries, is so white that it well might form a guiding line to the vessels which navigate this bay even in the darkest nights. The bay, however, is so shallow, that it is rarely entered by vessels larger than schooners of about seventy tons burthen, which visit its shores to take in the sugars and cottons grown in the neighbouring country.

The "Crusader" is a somewhat curious craft, small, snug withal, and considerably roguish looking. She has not fewer than four "grunters" on her fore deck, her sails are of pure white cotton, and although she bears the lively flag of our country at the peak, her being painted purely black gives her the aspect, not merely of a smuggler, but of a pirate. But here she is, at the entrance of a canal of a sugar plantation, and close to another craft, much the worse for wear, and, for aught I know to the contrary, belonging to the captain alone, who, I would almost venture to assert, belongs to no country at all.

It is now four weeks since a razor came in contact with my chin. All my companions are equally hircine; or, if you please, hirsute. As to our clothing, were you to see us at this moment, you would be ready to exclaim, "What vagabonds these fellows are!" Coats and trousers plastered with mire, shirts no longer white, guns exhibiting the appearance of being in constant use, and all sorts of accoutrements that pertain to determined hunters, complete our _tout ensemble_. But, as I have said, here we are, and on shore must go. "Man the gig," quoth our captain. In a trice the gig is manned. One after another, for there are five or six of us, we swing ourselves into the after-sheets. The word is given, the oars are plied, and now we are once more on terra firma.

The crossing of large bays, cumbered with shallow bars and banks of oyster-shells, is always to me extremely disagreeable, and more especially when all these bars and banks do not contain a single living specimen of that most delectable shell-fish. Nay, I am assured by our pilot, who is no youngster, that ever since he first visited this extensive waste, not an oyster has been procured in these parts. But now, in single file, like culprits or hungry travellers, we proceed along the margin of the canal. Ah, my dear friend, would that you were here just now to see the Snipes innumerable, the Blackbirds, the Gallinules, and the Curlews that surround us;—that you could listen as I now do, to the delightful notes of the Mocking-bird, pouring forth his soul in melody as the glorious orb of day is fast descending towards the western horizon;—that you could watch the light gambols of the Night Hawk, or gaze on the Great Herons which, after spreading their broad wings, croak aloud as if doubtful regarding the purpose of our visit to these shores! Ah! how well do I know you would enjoy all this; but, alas! we are more than four thousand miles apart.

Hark! what's that? Nothing but a parcel of men coming to greet us. Here they are, seven or eight Negroes. Who lives here my good fellows? Major Gordy, massa. Well, now show us the way to the house. Yes, gentlemen, come along. So we follow our swarthy guides.

The plantations here are of great value, both on account of their proximity to the Gulf of Mexico, and the excellence of the soil, which, as in other parts of Louisiana, is composed of a fat, black mould. The Indian corn was at least six feet high, and looked most beautiful. As we approached the mansion of Major Gordy, I observed that it has a pleasant aspect, and was furnished with a fine garden, and a yard well stocked with cattle, together with a good number of horses and mules, just let loose from labour. A mill for grinding corn and making sugar particularly drew our notice to it, as the Crusader happened just then to be destitute of both articles; and as I saw some women milking the cows, my heart fairly leaped with joy, and the hope that ere long we might procure a full bowl of the delightful and salubrious beverage. The short twilight of our southern latitudes had now almost involved every object in that dim obscurity so congenial to most living creatures after the toils of the day, as allowing them to enjoy that placid quiet which is required to restore their faded energies.

Near the entrance of the mansion stood an elderly man, of tall stature and firm aspect, leaning on what I would call a desperate long gun. As I approached this Côte Blanche planter, I thought that something not so very friendly as I could have wished was expressed in his countenance. As he rested his heavy frame on his monstrous rifle, he neither moved his head, nor held out his hand to me, until I presented mine to him, saying, "My good sir, how do you do?" His answer was a rather suspicious look at me and my companions; but notwithstanding, and probably because he was on his own ground, he asked us what was our wish, and then desired us to walk in.

Côte Blanche Bay, you must be informed, has for a number of years been infested by a set of rascally piratical vagabonds, who have committed extensive depredations, in consequence of which, a few years ago, a United States' revenue cutter was sent to protect the coast. I have no doubt that the major took us, to a man, for members of the gang who had more than once visited, not his house, but his plantation, on which they had played many wanton and atrocious freaks.

We now, however, had entered the house. Candles were lighted, and we at once came face to face, as it were. It curiously happened that our captain was without his uniform, and fully as rough looking otherwise as any of us. I was, however, much pleased to see that the major himself was not much superior to us in respect of apparel; nor had his razor been employed for many days. I happened to have about me some unequivocal credentials, from the head departments of the United States, which, on my observing that some degree of suspicion still remained, I placed in his hands. He read them, spoke kindly to us, promised to forward our letters to the nearest post-town, and invited us to consider his dwelling as our own. From that moment until we returned to our vessel, we were all as comfortable and merry as men can be when distant from their own dear homes.

Next morning we received from Major Gordy a barrel of sugar, another of corn meal, some pails of milk, and a quantity of newly made butter, together with potatoes and other needful articles—and all this without being allowed so much as to offer him the least recompense. The day after, we returned to breakfast by invitation, and found in the house several strangers armed with rifles and double-barrelled guns. After we had been introduced to all around, we seated ourselves, and made a vigorous attack upon our host's eggs and bacon, coffee, tea, and milk. As this important business was proceeding, I was delighted to hear the following anecdotes, which I hope you, my dear friend, will relish as much as I did.

"Gentlemen," said our host, straightening himself up in his chair, "I am considerably suspicious as regards the strangers who happen to anchor within the range of my dominions. Indeed, gentlemen, I must acknowledge that even after you returned on board last night, I sent off some of my men in various directions, to let my neighbours know that a strange craft had anchored near the landing-place; and here, gentlemen, are those neighbours of mine; but as it happens that the name of the gentleman who calls himself a 'Naturalist' is well known to some of them, I now feel quite satisfied as respects the purposes you have in view. But let me tell you what happened to me some years ago.

"Such a shark-looking craft as the one you call the Crusader happened to drop its anchor abreast of my landing-place, about dusk one evening, and as I guessed that the fellows on board were not better than they should be, I watched their motions for a while from my back piazza. But nothing happened that night. Next morning, however, I heard the firing of guns down the meadows where my cattle and hogs were in the habit of feeding. So I took my rifle, walked towards the spot, and soon found, sure enough, that the rascals had killed a fine ox and several hogs, which they were dragging to the shore. Indeed, gentlemen, I saw the yawl crammed with the spoils of my plantation. Well, I took as good an aim as I could at the nearest man, and cracked away, but without hitting. At the report of my gun the fellows all took to their heels, and getting on board hoisted sail and went off. I have never heard of them since. Well, gentlemen, about the same hour next morning, a black-looking barge, hardly as large as your Crusader, came to, off the very same spot, and although I watched it and every one on board nearly the whole night, and it was a beautiful moon-shining one, not a soul of them came on shore until morning. Then, however, I saw some bustle on board. Several men got off in a very small affair, which was fastened astern of the large boat. I saw them land, and deliberately walk towards the meadows. No sooner had they reached the wettest part, and that is where my hogs generally root for food, than crack, crack, crack, went off their guns in all directions. You may well suppose how vexed I was at all this, and conceive how soon I mustered my men with clubs, and armed myself with my rifle. On reaching the ground, think, gentlemen, what were my thoughts, when I saw the fellows all advancing towards me and my people, as if they were the honestest men in the world. I was so mad when they came close up, that I had a mind to shoot the one in front, for he looked for all the world as if he cared not a pin for any one. However, I did not shoot, but asked him why he was shooting my hogs? 'Hogs! good man, you are quite mistaken; we are shooting snipes until we come in contact with the rascally pirates who infest the coast, and lay waste your plantations. My name, my good sir, is Captain ——, of the United States Navy; and these are some of my men. Will you come on board, and breakfast with us on your own snipes?'" No wonder that the major, having been subject to the visits of these marauders, should have taken us in the dusk, armed as we were, and withal not having precisely the aspect of sober citizens, for persons not quite as good as we should be. But I must now conclude, and in my next you shall hear something of the result of my expedition into the marshes.

After wading through mud for whole days, exposed to scorching heat, and constantly annoyed by myriads of insects in the course of their numerous excursions on shore, they reached Galveston Bay on the 24th of April. The fort of Galveston returned their salute of "26 fires," given by the big gun on the _Campbell_, and shortly after they received a visit from the Secretary of the Navy of the Republic of Texas, which under Sam Houston had declared its independence but a few weeks before their arrival, and were invited to proceed to the seat of government, at Houston, eighty miles distant, in the interior. They landed on the 26th of April, and after three weeks had been spent in exploring Galveston Island and its adjacent shores for birds and animals of all sorts, they started for Houston on the 8th of May. After making about twelve miles, their vessel grounded on Red Fish Bar, and the party then took to tender and gig, reaching their destination on the 15th; wild turkeys, ibises, and ducks of many kinds were seen in great numbers along their course.

Audubon has left a graphic account[143] of what he then saw at the capital of this short-lived infant Republic, including its picturesque President, the _mêlée_ of dejected Mexican prisoners then gathered there, and its drunken Indians, "halooing and stumbling about in the mud in every direction." Houston's abode was a small log house, "consisting of two rooms, with a passage through, after the Southern fashion."

The moment we stepped over the threshold, on the right hand of the passage, we found ourselves ushered into what in other countries would be called the ante-chamber; the ground floor, however, was muddy and filthy; a large fire was burning; a small table, covered with paper and writing materials, was in the centre; camp-beds, trunks, and different materials were strewn around the room. We were at once presented to several members of the cabinet, some of whom bore the stamp of intellectual ability, simple though bold, in their general appearance....

The President was engaged in the opposite room on national business, and we could not see him for some time. Meanwhile we amused ourselves by walking to the capitol, which was yet without a roof, and the floors, benches and tables of both houses of Congress were as well saturated with water as our clothes had been in the morning. Being invited by one of the great men of the place to enter a booth to take a drink of grog with him, we did so; but I was rather surprised that he offered his name, instead of the cash, to the bar-keeper.

We first caught sight of President Houston as he walked from one of the grog-shops, where he had been to prevent the sale of ardent spirits. He was on his way to his house, and wore a large gray coarse hat, and the bulk of his figure reminded me of the appearance of General Hopkins of Virginia, for like him he is upwards of six feet high, and strong in proportion. But I observed a scowl in the expression of his eyes, that was forbidding and disagreeable. We reached his abode before him, but he soon came, and we were presented to his excellency. He was dressed in a fancy velvet coat, and trowsers trimmed with broad gold-lace; around his neck was tied a cravat somewhat in the style of seventy-six. He received us kindly, was desirous of retaining us for awhile, and offered us every facility within his power. He at once removed us from the anteroom to his private chamber, which by the way was not much cleaner than the former. We were severally introduced by him to the different members of his cabinet and staff, and at once asked to drink grog with him, which we did, wishing success to his new republic. Our talk was short; but the impression which was made on my mind at the time by himself, his officers, and his place of abode, can never be forgotten.

The party left Texas on the 18th of May, and on the 27th reached New Orleans, which was then oppressively hot and nearly deserted. Here Audubon's collections and equipment were packed to be sent north; his dog was given to his brother-in-law, William Bakewell, and on the last day of the month the party began to retrace their steps of the previous March. After more hard traveling by car, coach and railroad, Charleston was reached in eight and a half days, on June 10, 1837. Edward Harris, who ascended the Mississippi from New Orleans for the purpose of making further collections, later rejoined the party at Bachman's home in Charleston. Audubon said that he lost twelve pounds in weight during this journey, which proved exceedingly trying, and the hardships encountered were hardly commensurate with the returns in bird and animal lore; yet Audubon was by no means dissatisfied at the results, as shown by the following account which he gave Thomas Brewer two days after his return:[144]

The weather during the principal portion of our absence was unusually cold, even for the season, and this gave us, perhaps, the very best opportunities ever afforded to any student of nature to observe the _inward_ migrations of myriads of the birds that visit us from the south and west when the imperative laws of nature force them from their winter retreats towards other countries to multiply. To tell you all regarding this would be more by a thousand times than can be given in a letter written in haste, and I will therefore at once touch the spring with whose sound you are most in harmony. We procured many eggs for you—ay, a great number—and as soon as we reach New York I will make up a large box, and take it to you myself.... One thing that will interest you most, as it did me, is that we found west of the Mississippi many species of ducks breeding as contented as if in latitude 68° north. There is, after all, nothing like seeing things or countries to enable one to judge of their peculiarities, and I now feel satisfied that through the want of these means many erroneous notions remain in scientific works that can not otherwise be eradicated. We found not one new species, but the mass of observations that we have gathered connected with the ornithology of our country, has, I think, never been surpassed. I feel myself now tolerably competent to give an essay on the geographical distribution of the feathered tribes of our dear country, and I promise that I will do so, with naught but facts and notes made on the very spot, and at the fitting time.

Maria Rebecca Bachman, eldest of the nine Bachman children, was married at this time to John Woodhouse Audubon, and the entire party started north before the end of June. They went by steamer to Norfolk, and thence to Washington, where Audubon presented his letters to President Van Buren and tendered his thanks in person to the various officers of the Government and friends who had aided his expedition; they passed rapidly through Baltimore and Philadelphia, to New York, where Audubon remained a fortnight, while his son and daughter-in-law were enjoying a honeymoon at Niagara Falls. All sailed from New York on the packet _England_, and landed at Liverpool on the 2d of August. Five days later the family was united in London.