18th
August 1869
My Dearest Winifred,
I write to you now beneath
a concert of raindrops beating against the roof of my bedchamber. While my accommodations have been less than
luxurious by any standard, I find the thatch and tin roof more than adequate
for my purpose. These past few months
have been torture without you, Dearest, and I fear that the seasons may come
and go before we are again together. For
me, there will be no visible signals as Mother Nature flows across time. No brightening of Autumnal leaves, no nip of
cold upon the morning breeze, just the endless tropic heat and ever green
bounty of foliage growing to astronomical size and dimension.
But my purpose to
document these marvels of nature is clear, and I have been immersed in an endless array of unbelievable life forms never before seen by European man. I could write an entire tome on the
catastrophic flowers alone. Would you
believe that one such blossom, emerging only in the depths of night, opens
petals the size of your favorite parasol?
And another, the size of a shilling, produces a sticky nektar for the
sole purpose of capturing and devouring small insects and lizards misfortunate enough to stumble upon it! I can hear
you now, my Darling, aghast that such a thing occurs in nature. Fear not, I am ever vigilant and take great
care whenever I am in the field. No harm
has befallen me…yet.
I hesitate to put to
paper these next words, but I feel I must share with you the most recent of my
adventures here in this steaming jungle.
Less than a fortnight ago, while in the bush alone, I came upon an
amazing sight. I discovered a clearing,
in the centre of which lay a pool of glowing azure blue water. The pool was surrounded by the tiny carnivorous
plants I described above, along with countless other plants and blooms I have
never before seen in my 20 years as a botanist.
As you can well imagine, I was atremble with excitement, and set about
gathering samples to sketch and diagramme back at camp. I had just gathered a handful of flowers and
leaves when a soft buzzing began amongst the foliage. The sound was almost musical, like the draw
of a bow across the strings of a violin.
Arising from the brush came a cloud of what appeared to be a form of
dragonfly, but like none I had ever seen before. The insects bodies were of brightest
blue, just like the waters of the pond! Each was in length as long as your favorite quill (the one Mother gave you of ostrich feather). To my eye they
resembled forged metal with four long wings of blazing silver, as if spun by a
silversmith! These amazing creatures
formed a cloud about me, seeming to examine me with bright eyes and a manner reflecting the same curiosity with which I
examined them! I know what you are
thinking, Dearest, but the heat had not clouded my mind, intense tho it
was. I found myself sitting at the edge
of the pool, enveloped in a living cloud of hundreds of flashing blue and
silver bodies. I swear to you, my
Darling Dear, that these insects were attempting to communicate with me! They beat their wings in a distinct rhythm, a
rudimentary language if you will! The
sounds they created were so soothing, so enchanting, I began to drowse, right
in their midst. I felt them alight on my
body, tiny feet nearly weightless, shining wings caressing my face and
hands. I tell you, I have never felt
such peace but for the moments we have spent together in quite reflection
amongst your treasured gardens in Cambridge.
I confess, I was nearly hypnotized!
I do not know how long I spent in the company of these otherworldly
creatures, but time seemed of no consequence.
The next thing I knew, I awoke to the sound of Reginald and Walter
calling my name over and over again. I
looked about me, but the dragonflies were gone and the pool was no longer
brilliant blue, but had turned a dark black.
I roused myself, and left the clearing to join the others, who I
found had been frantically searching for me for over 12 hours! Dearest, I had no sense of time passing at
all!
Needless to say, I
did not share my discovery with Walt or Reg, instead I told them I had lost my compass
and muddled my directions in the forest. I think they believe me, but both regard me
with some suspicion now and I doubt I will be left to explore alone from this
point on.
But explore I must,
for in the days since, the dragonflies have been calling to me. Yes, I know how mad that sounds, but it is true
none the less. I see them from the
corner of my eye, flashing blue and silver amongst the forest greenery. I turn, and they are gone! Walt and Reg don’t know what to make of my
behaviour, and I simply cannot share this with them. The dragonflies chose to communicate with only me,
and I must keep their confidence until we meet again.
Last night, they
came to me in my dreams, once again enveloping me in their soft, shining wings
and serenading me with their aerial music.
I must find them, I simply must.
So, tonight I set out alone to reunite with these fantastical
beings. I hope I can find the clearing
again, for I scratched a crude map upon a forest tree when I first discovered
the oasis. Oh Winnie, if only you could
have seen them! Bluer than even your
lovely eyes!
I shall write again,
as soon as I can, and one day I hope to bring you here to witness for yourself
the magik in this primordial forest.
Until then, I reach to you across the seas, soul to soul, heart to
heart.
Yours Forever,
Matthias
This letter was the last communication that
Winifred Tallmadge ever received from her husband, the famed explorer and botanist, Professor Matthias
Tallmadge. Enclosed with the letter were
a few scraps of paper, believed to be from Prof. Tallmadge’s field
notebook. The notes are unintelligible, and
include drawings of unidentified plants and insects. Also included with the letter was a 3-inch long insect wing resembling a dragonfly wing, but made of fine silver.
Prof. Tallmadge’s research partners, Professors Reginald
Moorehaven and Walter LeMoyne, discovered his bunk empty. After 24 hours with no sign of Tallmadge
returning to camp, a search party was dispatched. The search continued for three weeks before
the determination was made that Tallmadge had somehow become lost and
perished in the jungle. The clearing
mentioned in Tallmadge’s letter was never found, but his spectacles and part
of his field notebook were discovered at the base of a tree carved with
Tallmadge’s name alongside his wife’s name.
His body was never recovered. It was
noted that in the days after Tallmadge’s disappearance, the field station
was inundated with thousands of insects noted to be a new un-described species
of blue dragonfly. No specimens were ever captured or preserved, and it was recorded by the team and several other witnesses that the insects vanished the same day the
search for Tallmadge was suspended.
Mrs. Tallmadge pledged to fund a continued search for her
husband, and did so for the rest of her life until she passed away at the age
of 86. The disappearance of Professor Matthias Tallmadge remains a mystery to this day.
Post Script:
The following transcript was added to this file by Peirce
Moorehaven, son of Professor Reginald Moorehaven, the last surviving member of
the Tallmadge research team at the time of Winifred Tallmadge’s death.
“My Father was 97 when Mrs. Tallmadge died. He insisted we attend her funeral, both the
church service and the grave side ceremony following. By this time Father was very crippled with
arthritis and other maladies affecting a man of his great age, but with my help we
managed to walk from our carriage to the grave site, along with the rest of the
funeral party. As the minister was speaking
beside Mrs. Tallmadge’s coffin, my father became extremely agitated, pointing
to the Tallmadge grave marker. Two
large blue dragonflies with silver wings were hovering over the stone, eventually landing on the carved marble.
They remained there until the ceremony was over, then vanished in the blink of
an eye. My father referred to them as
“Tallmadge’s Dragons” and insisted they were an omen of some sort. We left at this point, as Father was near to
fainting from exhaustion. No matter how I pressed him, he refused to speak of the incident ever again and passed away some weeks later. Whatever secrets he discovered in the jungle with Tallmadge died with him, but I shall never forget those spectacular dragonflies.”
Library at Oxford, 2013
