104 WILLIAM BARTRAM 



puppies," that of "' a less green frog," whose notes are remark- 

 ably like that of young chickens "; and that of the shad frog, 

 from whose noise " at some distance one would be almost per- 

 suaded that there were assemblies of men in serious debate " 

 (pp. 276-78). And, of course, there is the noise of the alli- 

 gators. He hears them " plunging and roaring " (p. 88) ; he 

 hears "the horrid noise of their closing jaws" (p. 123), a 

 '" surprising " noise, " like that which is made by forcing a 

 heavy plank with violence upon the ground" (p. 129). It is 

 not at all surprising to find that Coleridge copied into his Note 

 Book the climax of Bartram's description of " the incredible 

 loud and terrifying roar," which 



resembles very heavy distant thunder, not only shaking the air and 

 waters, but causing the earth to tremble; and when hundreds and 

 thousands are roaring at the same time, you can scarcely be persuaded, 

 but that the whole globe is violently and dangerously agitated (p. 129). 



Bartram, as will soon be shown, saw nature principally as a 

 painter, and his writings are consequently rich in visual descrip- 

 tions. Yet his sensitiveness to sound — which has just been indi- 

 cated — was only slightly less remarkable, and any extensive 

 study of his art cannot ignore his notation of gustatory, tactile, 

 and olfactory sensations. He notes the " aromatic flavour " and 

 bitter taste of the palmetto royal tree (p. 72) ; the " sweet and 

 agreeable " taste of the live oak acorn, from which " the 

 Indians obtain ... a sweet oil, which they use in the cooking 

 of hommony, rice, &c. . . " (p. 85 ) ; the " most disagreeable taste 

 , . . brassy and vitriolic " of a hot spring (p. 145) ; the " gratify- 

 ing " taste of oranges (p. 200) ; the " sweet and pleasant eating 

 . . . like chestnuts " of the Nymphaea Nelumbo (p. 409) . To 

 be sure, some of these taste descriptions are the observations of 

 a scientist, exact statements of the properties of plants such as 

 one finds in a botanical dictionary. Yet such adjectives as 

 " agreeable," " gratifying," and " pleasant " are purely subjec- 

 tive and add an emotional coloring to Bartram's scientific nota- 

 tions. Tactile sensations are suggested by the '" silky hair " of 

 a spider (p. xxix) ; the "" fine . . . downy pubescence " of a rho- 

 dodendron (p. 336) ; the " hard . . . couch " on which he re- 

 clined at night (p. 50) ; the " tepid " water of a spring (p. 



