Across the Philadelphia road, which today leads to the little railway station, and not more than a quarter of a mile from Audubon's farmhouse, stood another but more pretentious mansion of the Colonial era, called "Fatland Ford," pertaining to an extensive farm of that name which was noted for the fertility of its alluvial acres. A road from the present village of Audubon to the Schuylkill River and the ford runs through the "Fatlands of Egypt," as the most productive parts of this old farm were then called. From the house could be seen the camping grounds of the Revolutionary soldiers, and James Vaux, its owner and builder, is said to have entertained General Howe at breakfast and to have shown him the room which General Washington, his guest of the previous day, had left just in time to avoid an introduction. Shortly before Audubon reached "Mill Grove," William Bakewell, an Englishman who had emigrated to New Haven in 1802, bought this farm, and with his wife and family took possession in the winter or spring of 1804.[89] Of the six Bakewell children, the two eldest, Lucy Green and Thomas Woodhouse, were but three years younger than the naturalist. The senior Bakewell, said Audubon, called at "Mill Grove" to pay his respects, but being then from home, and having brought with him a Frenchman's dislike for everything English, he failed to respond. In the autumn, however, when grouse had become plentiful in the woods, a chance meeting brought them together, and young Audubon, who was a great admirer of his neighbor's expert marksmanship and well trained dogs, duly apologized for his neglect and forthwith paid a visit to "Fatland Ford." We shall let the naturalist tell in his own words of his first meeting with the young woman who afterwards became his wife: Well do I recollect the morning, and may it please God that I may never forget it, when for the first time I entered Mr. Bakewell's dwelling. It happened that he was absent from home, and I was shown into a parlor where only one young lady was snugly seated at her work by the fire. She rose on my entrance, offered me a seat, and assured me of the gratification her father would feel on his return, which, she added, would be in a few moments as she would despatch a servant for him. Other ruddy cheeks and bright eyes made their transient appearance but, like spirits gay, soon vanished from my sight; and there I sat, my gaze riveted, as it were, on the young girl before me, who, half working, half talking, essayed to make the time pleasant to me. Oh! may God bless her! It was she, my dear sons, who afterward became my beloved wife, and your mother.