| Title: | Henderson Wightman, Malta to Sister, Nancy, [Alabama?]. |
|---|---|
| ID | 3320 |
| Collection | Irish Emigration Database |
| File | Wightman, Henderson/63 |
| Year | 1816 |
| Sender | Wightman, Henderson |
| Sender Gender | male |
| Sender Occupation | unknown |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Malta |
| Destination | USA |
| Recipient | Nancy |
| Recipient Gender | female |
| Relationship | siblings |
| Source | T 1475/1 p.14: Copied by Permission of Miss A. McKisack, 9, Mount Pleasant, Belfast. |
| Archive | The Public Record Office, Northern Ireland. |
| Doc. No. | 9006047 |
| Date | 11/07/1816 |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | EMG |
| Log | Document added by JM 27:08:1993. |
| Word Count | 1824 |
| Genre | |
| Note | |
| Transcript | Malta. 11th. July 1816 My dear Nancy, Under the influence of a burning sun and almost boiled to a cinder, I can scarcely collect resolution enough to enter on a letter. I think I have never experienced anything equal to the heat of this place.The chief cause why strangers feel it so much is that the difference is not so great here between the heat of the night and that of the day, as it in other parts. At Naples and Palermo, it is also very intense, but there is one less affected by it-at least I find it so. This island is a complete mass of rock from which the rays of the sun are darting at every point,and this rock being of a white colour such a glare is emitted that during the day about noon, the eyes can scarely support it. In consequence of this a great number of the Maltese become blind at an early period of life. Were I obliged to be much abroad I would have a pair of green (curtains) over my previous luminaries, the brightness of which however was lost many years beyond my recollection; but fortunately my occupation in the middle of the day is usually within doors. A little before dusk I venture to creep out like the owl,and saunter about, sometimes with a friend on the parade, sometimes solo around the bastions and outside the gate of the Floriana gardens.Instead of white rock how much more refreshing a little verdure would be to the eyesight, but this is a novelty which only presents itself in the shape of a curosity [curiosity?] and therefore not to be looked for on all sides. As to amusements I can tell you nothing about them, for in fact I have resolved to detach my mind from them as much as possible. The opera I can't describe, for I have never been there yet - as to dances, I have'nt performed a single step in any figure since my arrival and tea and card parties are things I am an utter stranger to, for I dont know a single family in the place. Indeed I believe it is much better so, for it is tiresome visiting persons in whom one feels no interest. The society here is not the most desirable as far as I understand. It consists chiefly of merchants most of whom here have families, and some holding government situations in the Island, but it is such a society as may be expected in a garrison where tittle tattle prevails the tongue of slander is ever on the move, and every step a person takes gives birth to a thousand whispers and endless surmise. If the cup of social intercourse be thus soured and empoverished [impoverished?] without any sparkling ingredient to give it brightness it is not worth tasting. You will be doubtless led to exclaim what a changed society after the conversazione and gaiety of Genoa. It is so I must confess and yet a pleasing change in one sense, for after having been so much engaged in company I may now sit down at leisure with Jaques, and moralize the spectacle. I am disposed to think that it is all so much nonsense and folly, and that a man may live more wisely by living more with his own thoughts. Solitude you see has its charms for me, but you must not suppose that I am become a misanthrope. A large fly has just now settled on my brow and I brush it off gently with my hand, but you must not suppose that I hate the fly - no on the contrary I wish it to enjoy itself as much as possible though I dislike being annoyed or incommoded by it. So it is #PAGE 2 with the society of a military garrison which is little better than an assembly of flies shut up in a small room buzzing about wheeling around each other circles and as they pass tearing off a piece of each other's wings through more sport or contention. The only society which can be called such here is English - as for the Maltese they scarcely ever mix with us being a people extremely reserved and tenacious of their own customs. To judge of English society abroad you must not suppose it the same as at home - quite otherwise. An English family when transplanted to foreign soil shoots out nothing but sprouts of affectation and its natural honest and good qualities are completely warped, and this you will believe when you consider that most of these who come abroad are adventurers, and discontented with themselves, and consequently with all around them. For this reason I am persuaded the worst Italian society or that of whatever place one may be in is less insipid and more palatable than that of the English. Elegy on the death of Mrs. Cumming. ___________________________________ Sad was the Bark across the Atlantic borne In plaintive dirges sighed the Western Gale, Which bade the flood of weeping friendship mourn, The tidings Mary, of thy hapless tale. Alas! whoever thy matcheless worth had known But would its loss thus premature deplore What breat [breast?] ungirt [ungird?] with adamantine zone, Would not be bleeding in its inmost core? What ear, once by the lively converse blest, Which from the tidings would not shrink away, What eye, that saw thee in youths roseate vest, Would not embalm with tears thy lifeless clay? Though in thy native soil to thee denied Mid friends beloved to seal thy early doom Although Columbia's zephyrs o'er thee glide And strangers footsteps pass the unknown tomb, Yet be thy Requiem sung by one who trode With thee thy darling haunts-thy native bowers When lightly tripping o'er the verdant sod In bloom of youth you plucked its sweetest flowers. Nor may it ought displease thy sainted shade Which from these scenes its heavenward flight has sped If friendship, in the muse's garb arrayed Strew flowers of Cypress o'er thy earthly bed #PAGE 3 No none of Erin's daughters ever owned A soul more pure, with brighter virtures fraught Beaming in looks, where mingling sat enthroned The dew of feeling and the ray of thought, How every act-creative of delight Showed as therein, some Grace its magic wore Her heart - an open temple where the light could natures image silently adore. Forth from that elegant and cultured mind How did intelligence its radiance shoot Within that bosom sympathizing - kind Each soft affection intertwined its root. Such were the virtues which with artless charm Did her parental mansion so illume Diffusing Joy - Ah! how could Fate e'er harm And blast a flower that breathed such sweet perfume. And from that home when torn with struggling pain New duties led her o'er the Atlantic tide Her heart no wide extent of hillowy main Could e'er a moment from its friends divide. To them and to her husband still devote Her thoughts n'er wandered but to seek the skies At last the unwonted clime her soft frame smote Severing with baleful breath those earthly ties. But yet by virtue's powerful arm sustained Mary undaunted eyed the coming blow Whilst calm religion at her couch remained And dried the tears affection bade to flow. Then when as if with angel hand she traced The words that told her friends the last adieu, And their eternal weal their prayers embraced Which fervent from her quivering pale lips flew. Those parting moments - so serene - so mild The dawning of eternal bliss might seem On her pale features resignation smiled And her last look reflected Hope's bright gleam. #PAGE 4 Thus on the bosom of a crystal fount In trembling line the lambent sunbeams play And thus exhaled its drops pallucid mount And point to Heaven's blue vault liquid way. Hendersonius Alluding to her parting letters to her friends. On the other side I sent a copy of verses I wrote tributary to the death of Mrs. Cummings one of our earliest friends on whose virtues I need not expatiate, Being devoted to her you loved, I am convinced they will be acceptable to you, though they may recall some sad sensations. I was lately delighted at received [receiving?] a letter from James Craig in answer to one I wrote him from Genoa. I am now about to write to him at Paris whither he expected partly to go. Remember me sincerely to Mr and Miss Craig. I am now about to depart for Tripoli as part of a Mission which is to leave this for that count. It seems the [Day?] has presented the Prince Regent with some of the antiquities in its environs, and our object will be to ascertain what will be best worth removing. On the whole I think it will be a very pleasant trip. As we will most probably be detained there for some considerable time and there will be no opportunity of forwarding letters thence you must not be uneasy should you not hear from me for four months at the least; perhaps it will be longer o'er I can write. Since writing the above I have given up the idea of going to Tripoli from the conviction that my eyesight which is not particularly strong and might be materially injured by exposure to the rays of the sun reflected from the burning sands of Africa - a circumstance for which no other advantage could compensate, not even the sight of the Day's Court and all its splendour, nor a handsome sabre with which he might present me nor the pocket full of antiques which I might carry of with [me?] Write me therefore when you please. This Mission on which I was about to go is to proceed some distance into the country and the length of time for which they will be scorched and boiled there is uncertain. It is reported the department here is going to be entirely broken up in which case we will all go home, how soon I know not. I expect to hear that William is as happy, as we all wish him to be. My dear Mother and yourself will no doubt feel much distressed at parting with him, but I hope you will support it as much as possible, with the belief that we shall all soon be together again, which I trust in Providence will be the case. You must console yourselves with the thought that it is for his good, and therefore not greive [grieve?] at the privation which his temporary absence may occasion. Give my love to my Mother, Bess and Margt [Margaret?] and all friends. I know I scarcely deserve a thought yet I hope my dearest Nancy does not think so. Your goodness and affection is such that I know not if I can ever sufficiently #PAGE 5 most prove myself Your most affectionate brother H. [Henderson?] Wightman. |
