Volume I Part 8 (1/2)

_Sunday, August 13._ I am greatly disappointed that not yet have I had letters from home, though several vessels have arrived; perhaps to-morrow may bring me what I long for inexpressibly. This morning I went again to the church for the blind, and spent the remainder of the day at my kind friend's, Mr. Wm. Roscoe.

_August 14._ This day I have pa.s.sed with the delightful Rathbone family at Green Bank; I have been drawing for Mrs. Rathbone,[77] and after dinner we went through the greenhouse and _jardin potager_. How charming is Green Bank and the true hospitality of these English friends. It is a cold night, the wind blowing like November; it has been the first day of my exhibition of pictures per card, and one hundred and sixty-four persons were admitted.

_August 15. Green Bank, three miles from Liverpool._ I am now at this quiet country home; the morning pa.s.sed in drawing, and this afternoon I took a long walk with Miss Rathbone and her nephew; we were accompanied by a rare dog from Kamschatka. How I did wish _I_ could have conducted them towards the beech woods where we could move wherever fancy led us; but no, it could not be, and we walked between dreary walls, without the privilege of advancing towards any particular object that might attract the eye. Is it not shocking that while in England all is hospitality _within_, all is so different _without_? No one dare _trespa.s.s_, as it is called. Signs of _large dogs_ are put up; steel traps and spring guns are set up, and even _eyes_ are kept out by high walls. Everywhere we meet beggars, for England though rich, has poverty gaping every way you look, and the beggars ask for _bread_,--yes, absolutely for food. I can only pray, May our Heavenly Father have mercy on them.

_August 17._ _Green Bank._ This morning I lay on the gra.s.s a long time listening to the rough voice of a Magpie; it is not the same bird that we have in America. I drove to the Inst.i.tution with the _Queen Bee_ of Green Bank, and this afternoon began a painting of the Otter in a trap, with the intention to present it (if it is good) to my friend Mr. Roscoe's wife. This evening dined at Mr. Wm. Rathbone's, and there met a Quaker lady, Mrs. Abigail ----, who talked much and well about the present condition of England, her poor, her inst.i.tutions, etc. It is dreadful to know of the want of bread here; will it not lead to the horrors of another revolution? The children of the very poor are often forced by their parents to collect daily a certain amount by begging, or perhaps even stealing; failing to obtain this they are cruelly punished on their return home, and the tricks they resort to, to gain their ends, are numberless and curious. The newspapers abound with such accounts, and are besides filled with histories of murders, thefts, hangings, and other abominable acts; I can scarce look at them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FLYCATCHERS. (_Heretofore unpublished._) From a drawing made by Audubon in 1826, and presented to Mrs. Rathbone of Green Bank, Liverpool.

Still in the possession of the Rathbone family.]

_August 19._ Dined with Mr. A. Melly in Grenville St. The dinner was quite _a la francaise_, all gayety, witticism, and good cheer. The game, however, was what I call _highly tainted_, the true flavor for the lords of England.

_August 21._ I painted many hours this day, finished my Otter; it was viewed by many and admired. I was again invited to remove to Green Bank, but declined until I have painted the Wild Turkey c.o.c.k for the Royal Inst.i.tution, say three days more.

_September 4._ Having been too busy to write for many days, I can only relate the princ.i.p.al facts that have taken place. I have been to two very notable suppers, one at Dr. Traill's in company with the French consul and two other French gentlemen; I was much encouraged, and urged to visit France at once. The other at the house of Mr. Molineux; there indeed my ears were feasted; such entertaining conversation, such delightful music; Mr. Clementi[78] and Mr. Tomlinson from London were present. Many persons came to my painting room, they wonder at the rapidity of my work and that I can paint fourteen hours without fatigue. My Turkeys are now framed, and hung at the Inst.i.tution which is open daily, and paying well. I have made many small drawings for different friends. All my Sundays are alike,--breakfast with Mr.

Melly, church with the blind, dinner with Mr. Roscoe. Every one is surprised at my habits of early rising, and at my rarely touching meat, except game.

_Green Bank, September 6._ When I reached this place I was told that Lady Isabella Dougla.s.s, the sister of Lord Selkirk, former governor of Canada, was here; she is unable to walk, and moves about in a rolling chair. At dinner I sat between her and Mrs. Rathbone, and I enjoyed the conversation of Lady Dougla.s.s much, her broad Scotch accent is agreeable to me; and I amused her by eating some tomatoes raw; neither she, nor any of the company had ever seen them on the table without being cooked.

_September 9._ Dr. Traill has ordered all my drawings to be packed by the curator of the Inst.i.tution, so that has given me no trouble whatever. It is hard to say farewell to all those in town and country who have been so kind, so hospitable to me, but to-morrow I leave for Manchester, where Mr. Roscoe advises me to go next.

_Manchester, County of Lancas.h.i.+re, September 10, 1826._ I must write something of my coming here. After bidding adieu to many friends, I went to Dr. Traill, who most kindly insisted on my taking Mr. Munro with me for two days to a.s.sist me, and we left by coach with my portfolios, my trunk to follow by a slower conveyance. I paid one pound for our inside seats. I felt depressed at leaving all my good friends, yet Mr. Munro did all in his power to interest me. He made me remark Lord Stanley's domains, and I looked on the Hares, Partridges, and other game with a thought of apprehension that the apparent freedom and security they enjoyed was very transient. I thought it more cruel to permit them to grow tame and gentle, and then suddenly to turn and murder them by thousands, than to give them the fair show that our game has in our forests, to let them be free and as wild as nature made them, and to let the hunter pay for them by the pleasure and work of pursuing them. We stopped, I thought frequently, to renew the horses, and wherever we stopped a neatly dressed maid offered cakes, ale, or other refreshments for sale. I remarked little shrubs in many parts of the meadows that concealed traps for moles and served as beacons for the persons who caught them. The road was good, but narrow, the country in a high degree of cultivation. We crossed a ca.n.a.l conducting from Liverpool here; the sails moving through the meadows reminded me of Rochester, N.Y. I am, then, now at Manchester, thirty-eight miles from Liverpool, and nearly six thousand from Louisiana.

_Manchester, September 12._ Yesterday was spent in delivering my letters to the different persons to whom I was recommended. The American consul, Mr. J. S. Brookes, with whom I shall dine to-morrow, received me as an American gentleman receives another, most cordially.

The princ.i.p.al banker here, Arthur Heywood, Esq., was equally kind; indeed _everywhere_ I meet a most amiable reception. I procured, through these gentlemen, a good room to exhibit my pictures, in the Exchange buildings, had it cleared, cleaned, and made ready by night.

At five this morning Mr. Munro (the curator of the Inst.i.tution at Liverpool and a most competent help) with several a.s.sistants and myself began putting up, and by eleven all was ready. Manchester, as I have seen it in my walks, seems a miserably laid out place, and the smokiest I ever was in. I think I ought not to use the words ”laid out” at all. It is composed of an astonis.h.i.+ng number of small, dirty, narrow, crooked lanes, where one cart can scarce pa.s.s another. It is full of noise and tumult; I thought last night not one person could have enjoyed repose. The postilion's horns, joined to the cry of the watchmen, kept my eyelids asunder till daylight again gave me leave to issue from the King's Arms. The population appears denser and worse off than in Liverpool. The vast number of youth of both s.e.xes, with sallow complexions, ragged apparel, and downcast looks, made me feel they were not as happy as the slaves of Louisiana. Trade is slowly improving, but the times are dull. I have heard the _times_ abused ever since my earliest recollections. I saw to-day several members of the Gregg family.

_September 13, Wednesday._ I have visited the Academy of Sciences; my time here was largely spoiled by one of those busybodies who from time to time rise to the surface,--a dealer in stuffed specimens, and there ends his history. I wished him in Hanover, or Congo, or New Zealand, or Bombay, or in a bomb-sh.e.l.l _en route_ to eternity. Mr. Munro left me to-day, and I removed from the hotel to the house of a Mrs. Edge, in King Street, who keeps a circulating library; here I have more quietness and a comfortable parlor and bedroom. I engaged a man named Crookes, well recommended, to attend as money receiver at the door of my exhibition room. I pay him fifteen s.h.i.+llings per week; he finds himself, and copies letters for me. Two men came to the exhibition room and inquired if I wished a band of music to entertain the visitors. I thanked them, but do not consider it necessary in the company of so many songsters. My pictures here must depend on their _real_ value; in Liverpool I _knew_ I was supported by my particular friends.... It is eleven o'clock, and I have just returned from Consul Brookes' dinner. The company were all gentlemen, among whom were Mr.

Lloyd, the wealthy banker, and Mr. Garnet. Our host is from Boston, a most intelligent and polite man. Judge of my surprise when, during the third course, I saw on the table a dish of Indian corn, purposely for me. To see me eat it b.u.t.tered and salted, held as if I intended gagging myself, was a matter of much wonder to the English gentlemen, who did not like the vegetable. We had an English dinner Americanized, and the profusion of wines, and the quant.i.ty drank was uncomfortable to me; I was constantly obliged to say, ”No.” The gentleman next me was a good naturalist; much, of course, was said about my work and that of Charles Bonaparte. The conversation turned on politics, and Mr. Brookes and myself, the only Americans present, ranged ourselves and toasted ”Our enemies in war, but our friends in peace.” I am particularly fond of a man who speaks well of his country, and the peculiar warmth of Englishmen on this subject is admirable. I have had a note from Lord de Tabelay, who is anxious to see my drawings and me, and begs me to go to his domain fourteen miles distant, on my way to Birmingham. I observed that many persons who visited the exhibition room investigated my style more closely than at Liverpool. A Dr. Hulme spent several hours both yesterday and to-day looking at them, and I have been asked many times if they were for sale. I walked some four miles out of the town; the country is not so verdant, nor the country seats so clean-looking, as Green Bank for instance. The funnels raised from the manufactories to carry off the smoke appear in hundreds in every direction, and as you walk the street, the whirring sound of machinery is constantly in your ears. The changes in the weather are remarkable; at daylight it rained hard, at noon it was fair, this afternoon it rained again, at sunset was warm, and now looks like a severe frost.

_September 14, Thursday._ I have dined to-day at the home of Mr.

George W. Wood, about two miles from the town. He drove me thither in company with four gentlemen, all from foreign countries, Mexico, Sumatra, Constantinople, and La Guayra; all were English and had been travelling for business or pleasure, not for scientific or literary purposes. Mrs. Wood was much interested in her gardens, which are very fine, and showed me one hundred bags of black gauze, which she had made to protect as many bunches of grapes from the wasps.

_September 15._ FROST. This morning the houses were covered with frost, and I felt uncommonly cold and s.h.i.+very. My exhibition was poorly attended, but those who came seemed interested. Mr. Hoyle, the eminent chemist, came with four very pretty little daughters, in little gray satin bonnets, gray silk spencers, and white petticoats, as befitted them, being Quakers; also Mr. Heywood, the banker, who invited me to dine next Sunday. I spent the evening at the Rev. James I. Taylor's, in company with himself, his wife, and two gentlemen, one a Parisian. I cannot help expressing my surprise that the people of England, generally speaking, are so unacquainted with the customs and localities of our country. The princ.i.p.al conversation about it always turns to Indians and their ways, as if the land produced nothing else.

Almost every lady in England draws in water-colors, many of them extremely well, very much better than I ever will do, yet few of them dare to show their productions. Somehow I do not like Manchester.

_September 17, Sunday._ I have been thinking over my stay in Liverpool; surely I can never express, much less hope to repay, my indebtedness to my many friends there, especially the Roscoes, the three families of Rathbone, and Dr. Thomas S. Traill. My drawings were exhibited for four weeks without a cent of expense to me, and brought me 100. I gave to the Inst.i.tution a large piece, the wild Turkey c.o.c.k; to Mrs. Rathbone, Sr., the Otter in a trap, to Mr. Roscoe a Robin, and to many of my other friends some small drawing, as mementos of one who will always cherish their memories. I wrote a long letter to my son John Woodhouse urging him to spend much of his time at drawing _from nature only_, and to keep every drawing with the date, that he may trace improvement, if any, also to speak French constantly, that he may not forget a language in which he is now perfect. I have also written to the Governor of New York, his Excellency De Witt Clinton, to whose letters I am indebted for much of my cordial reception here. At two I started for Clermont, Mr.

Heywood's residence, where I was to dine. The grounds are fine, and on a much larger scale than Green Bank, but the style is wholly different. The house is immense, but I was kindly received and felt at ease at once. After dinner the ladies left us early. We soon retired to the library to drink tea, and Miss Heywood showed me her portfolio of drawings, and not long after I took my leave.

_September 18, Monday._ Mr. Sergeant came for me at half-past three and escorted me to his house. I am delighted with him--his house--his pictures--his books--his guns--and his dogs, and very much so with a friend of his from London, who dined with us. The weather has been beautiful, and more persons than usual at my rooms.

_September 19, Tuesday._ I saw Mr. Melly this morning at the Exchange; he had not long arrived from Liverpool. He had been to my door-keeper, examined the _Book of Income_, and told me he was sorry and annoyed at my want of success, and advised me to go at once to London or Paris.

He depressed me terribly, so that I felt really ill. He invited me to dine with him, but I told him I had already engaged to go to Mr.

Samuel Gregg[79] at Quarry Bank, fourteen miles distant, to pa.s.s the night. Mr. Gregg, who is the father of a large family, met me as if he had known me fifty years; with him came his brother William and his daughter, the carriage was ready, and off we drove. We crossed a river in the course of our journey nearly fifty feet wide. I was told it was a stream of great importance: the name I have forgotten,[80] but I know it is seven miles from Manchester _en route_ to Derbys.h.i.+re. The land is highly improved, and grows wheat princ.i.p.ally; the country is pretty, and many of the buildings are really beautiful. We turn down a declivity to Quarry Bank, a most enchanting spot, situated on the edge of the same river we had crossed,--the grounds truly picturesque, and cultivated to the greatest possible extent. In the drawing-room I met three ladies, the daughters of Mr. Gregg, and the second daughter of Mr. Wm. Rathbone. After tea I drew a dog in charcoal, and rubbed it with a cork to give an idea of the improvement over the common stumps ordinarily used. Afterwards I accompanied the two brothers to a debating club, inst.i.tuted on their premises for the advancement of their workmen; on the way we pa.s.sed a chapel and a long row of cottages for the work-people, and finally reached the schoolroom, where about thirty men had a.s.sembled. The question presented was ”Which was the more advantageous, the discovery of the compa.s.s, or that of the art of printing?” I listened with interest, and later talked with the men on some of the wonders of my own country, in which they seemed to be much interested.

_Quarry Bank, September 20._ Though the weather was cloudy and somewhat rainy, I rose early, took an immense walk, up and down the river, through the gardens, along the road, and about the woods, fields, and meadows; saw a flock of Partridges, and at half-past eight had done this and daubed in a sketch of an Esquimau in a sledge, drawn by four dogs. The offer was made me to join a shooting party in the afternoon; all was arranged, and the pleasure augmented by the presence of Mr. Shaw, the princ.i.p.al game-keeper of Lord Stanford, who obligingly promised to show us many _birds_ (so are Partridges called). Our guns are no longer than my arm, and we had two good dogs.

Pheasants are not to be touched till the first of October, but an exception was made for me and one was shot, and I picked it up while his eye was yet all life, his feathers all brilliancy. We had a fine walk and saw the Derbys.h.i.+re hills. Mr. Shaw pocketed five s.h.i.+llings, and we the game. This was my first hunting on English soil, on Lord Stanford's domain, where every tree--such as we should call saplings--was marked and numbered, and for all that I know pays either a tax to the government or a t.i.the to the parish. I am told that a Partridge which crosses the river, or a road, or a boundary, and alights on ground other than Lord Stanford's, is as safe from his gun as if in Guinea.

_September 21._ I returned to town this morning with my Pheasant.

Reached my exhibition room and received miserable accounts. I see plainly that my expenses in Manchester will not be repaid, in which case I must move shortly. I called on Dr. Hulme and represented the situation, and he went to the Academy of Natural History and ordered a committee to meet on Sat.u.r.day, to see if the Academy could give me a room. Later I mounted my pheasant, and all is ready for work to-morrow.