| Title: | T. H. Wightman, Edinburgh, Scotland to his Mother, [U.S.A.?]. |
|---|---|
| ID | 3323 |
| Collection | Irish Emigration Database |
| File | Wightman, Henderson/148 |
| Year | 1817 |
| Sender | Wightman, Henderson |
| Sender Gender | male |
| Sender Occupation | student |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Edinburgh, Scotland |
| Destination | USA? |
| Recipient | unknown |
| Recipient Gender | female |
| Relationship | son-mother |
| Source | T 1475/1 p.16: Copied by Permission of Miss A. McKisack, 9, Mount Pleasant, Belfast. |
| Archive | The Public Record Office, Northern Ireland. |
| Doc. No. | 9006049 |
| Date | 26/12/1817 |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | LET |
| Log | Document added by JM 01:09:1993. |
| Word Count | 3360 |
| Genre | |
| Note | |
| Transcript | Edinburgh. 26th December 1817 My Dear Mother, It affords me the most heartfelt delight, that my long narrative contributed so much to your entertainment, and the knowledge that it did so, will be a most powerful inducement to my farther exertion towards enlivening you in my absence. I most cordially sympathize with you, regarding the safe arrival of William, I know the great pleasure you must feel in his having escaped all the dangers of the Atlantic Main, which though scarcely perceptible in the eye of a Mariner are yet in the eyes of those unaccustomed to thinking on such a vast body of waters, evils of no small moment, and I am convinced in your view they must assumed a most serious magnitude. I long to hear something more than about the excellence of the American Apples. The intelligence of their safe arrival was a sufficient feast in itself, without the introduction of a dessert; but this, I daresay was by way of giving you a taste of the first fruits of the expedition. Since I find you derived so much gratification from the early part of my narrative, I will go on with the remainder. At Glasgow, as I have already informed you, I had the good fortune to hear Dr. Chalmers, the celebrated Orator of the North of the Tweed. It was on the day on which the remains of the Princess Charlotte were interred. He had been on a visit to his Father at a considerable distance, and was sent for express to deliver the Funeral Sermon. Printed notices were posted outside, that no strangers could be admitted, till the usual congregation were accommodated. The doorkeepers, accordingly were at their post, and those who applied for admission, if not known, were questioned, and unless they could give a satisfactory account, obliged to stop outside. I went up to the gallery door, and after waiting for some time with the greatest patience, the doorkeeper, touched I suppose with the unassuming weakness of my department, allowed me to step in on condition, that I was to remain in the back part, till the arrival of the Preacher, when I might move where I pleased. You might perhaps be led to think from the favour conferred on me, that I had been permitted to take a seat. This however, would have been too great a luxury, and Fortune sufficiently smiled on me, in allowing me to stand for a couple of hours. In fact, from the struggles made by the crowd assembled, the place looked more like a Theatre, than a house of Worship. I remarked, to a decent looking man, at my left hand, that Dr. C [Chalmers?] had been limited very much as to time for preparing a discourse. Ah! said my neighbour shaking his hand very significantly "A great mind like his, is never at a loss". The people positively think him little less than a Superior being. I have little doubt, that numbers suppose him to be inspired, and if looks could at all influence the credulous, his might favour the belief. His face is extremely thin - of a deathly pale, and in his eyes there is a peculiar wildness of expression. The countenance altogether is that off one who has studied and thought much. He #PAGE 2 delivered a most animated discourse. The text, if I recollect right, was "When the judgment of the Lord are abroad the inhabitants of the earth learn righteousness." He took occasion to remark that there were whole crowds, who flocked to Church on any occasion like the present, when the service was connected with the State, or relating to any political event, but that these very persons, who took care never to be absent on occasions of the foregoing nature, were the first to neglect their duties at the season of any of the awful solemnities of the Christain religion. That there was a class of men, who raised a cry of faction through the land, who were themselves by the agency of a most corrupt example, and of the most profligate lives, doing all in their power to insult the gospel of Christ, and to spread impiety through the Kingdom. That in order to have a loyal people we must have them throughly instructed in religious duty. For this purpose, ten times as many Churches would become desirable. He wished to see the time, when poor and rich would sit together promiscuously in the house of God, and when all artificial distinctions, which existed at present, would be abolished. There were numbers, whole multitudes, who could not afford to pay for a seat, and who should not therefore be prevented enjoying the consolations of public worship. In this I perfectly coincided with him, but I thought that however just might be his censure of some political parties, his allusion to them from the pulpit was rather vehement. "Those are the men - he said - who if the Preacher were to be absent from his post, on such an occasion as the present, would denounce him as a dengerous and suspicious character, but let me tell these subalterns in the den of partizanism these vapouring swaggering loyalists, that they are the very men themselves, who spread discontent and disseminate a spirit of disaffection" The discourse, it must be confessed wandered very much from the disastrous event which had occasioned it, and on account of which they had all assembled. It evinced the boldness of the speaker, in delivering his sentiments, but many of them might have been introduced with more propriety at another season. The sermon has been since published at the general request, and sought after with the same evidity as the preceding works of this popular divine. But to return to his manner and distinquishing characteristics, as an orator, he is a man, whose powerful genius has overcome many obstacles, which were thrown in his way by his physical constitution; for his apperance is far from being prepossessing. His action is completely unallied to grace, and may be even pronounced awkward, and to sum up the whole of his natural imperfections, his voice is rather weak, shrill and little susceptible of variety of modulation. You may readily conclude, that his mental energies are very great to counterbalance so many blemishes. He has indeed many of the first requisites of an Orator - a powerful imagination, great originality of thought, and uncommon enthusiasm. His whole frame co-operates with the fervour of his mind, and he seems to exert every muscle, both of face and body in the cause he is asserting. His #PAGE 3 action by persons of refined taste would be styled excessive, and extravagant. It must be admitted however, that on the body of the people such excess has a wonderful effect, and contributes greatly to rouse them from that topor, by which they are usually seized in the confined air of a church. Although his tones are shrill, yet there are times in which they produce a wonderful effect, not by pleasing, but by awaking a deep emotion. Whilst with thoughts of the first order, expressed in the most engrgetic language, he is hurrying from clause to clause of a long sentence, his whole frame convulsed with agitation, almost breathless in the violence of his emotion, and exiting a similiar agitation in the breasts of his auditors, it is extraordinary, what an effect he produces. It is on the same principles that a musical instrument, from a continued recurrence of tones, not the most agreeable in themselves, will produce the most powerful sensations, and almost urge some individual to a patch of madness. His voice flows through the deep stillness, which pervades the house, as a mighty torrent pours its streams through the solitude of nature. In describing the approaches of Death, and the late striking instance, which the King of Terrors had given of his uncontrollable power, Dr. C. [Chalmers?] was peculiarly energetic, almost terrifying the listening throng by the force of his gestures, and the wildness of his cries. This latter expression may seem perhaps somewhat ludicrous, but it is perfectly correct. He gave a very feeling account of the sympathy, which the poor are disposed to feel with their superiors, on occasion of any domestic calamity; and how much it would contribute to the happiness of the rich, if they would enter with a kindly interest in to the concerns of their poorer brethern of mankind. It must be allowed that he possessed an uncommon talent for the combination of ideas, giving the aspect of novelty to whatever subjects as happens to touch on. If he also possessed a greater power of close reasoning than he has, and were less disposed to infringe on the purity of the English language, his compositions would be admirable. A stranger who had never heard of his fame, did he happen to hear him commencing the service, with a broad Scotch dialect, which may be termed vulgar, and nothing remarkable in his manner or delivery, would not be disposed to form the most flattering opinion of him. It is only when he commences his sermons that he resigns himself to the influence of his enthusiasm, and bursts forth in astonishment on the listener. I have thought it necessary to say something about a man, whose works have been so much the object of admiration, and who has excited more of the public conversation perhaps than any preacher who has held forth in Scotland, since the days of John Knox. Nothing could exceed the solemn appearance which the Church presented, there being scarcely one in it, who was not clothed in deep mourning. It was indeed one scene of Sable, and all was the most profound attention. It was on the stroke of four, when the service was over. As the Coach was to set off at that hour, I was obliged to lose no time in reaching the Inn, Imagine me to yourself, #PAGE 4 hurrying from a scene of such affecting sorrow on an occasion fitted to impress the mind with the most solemn thoughts hurrying away from the place of worship to the bustle and uproar of a Mail-Coach, at the moment of the vehicle setting off - the cries of the passengers bringing their luggage and scrambling some inside and others on its top - the crack of the whip, and the sound of the horn - such a scene of confusion agitation and hurly-burly. It was such a transition as had never occured to me before, and it was some time ere I could compose the current of my thoughts, which had been so broken in the deepness and solemnity of their course. I mounted up so precipitately to my elevated post,that the Porter of the Inn, who had carried my Trunks, I suppose not being able to perceive me, was walking off without his moiety of recompense. I shouted to him and threw down a sixpence, which as fate would have it, winged its flight in a direction different from that intended, and plumped right down into the dirty puddle of a gutter. The man I dearsay had seen the colour of the silver, as it decended and was dipping into the water. Though it had been but a halfpenny he would most probably have thought it worth while "to pluck up a drowned copper by the locks" from the miry bed in which it lay. Be that as you please, he set his hands a diving for it with all their might and main. Several of the bypassers, who had seen the descent of the coin, had already stopped and others who beheld the group, and the man groping so anxiously in the mire, swelled the number of the lookers on, so that it grew in a short time to a very considerable assemblage. A greater concourse could hardly be gathered together to witness the rescue of a drowning man from his perilous state. What a trifler is man; every insignificant circumstance can attract and fix his attention. Many of those gazers had doubtless been returning from the Churches, and a mere trifle was sufficient to engross their whole attention. We drove on, leaving this silly multitude. I soon fixed my eyes on the moon, which appeared in full splendour, an object of contemplation - how beautiful how different from that I had quitted. My reveries were speedily disturbed by a sort of sleepiness, which came over me, and nothing strange occurred till the Coach-wheels rolled along the pavement of the Metropolis, and the pride of Scotia. I am in a lodging at present where the people are very attentive. It is with a Mr. Skill No 4 Crichton St in case any friend should come over during the winter and wish to see me - a thing however, I don't think very likely. There is vacation for ten days at the College, but that takes up very little of my time, as I only attend the Moral Philosophy class, the Mathematical class which I proposed attending, having unluckily been at the same hour. But I believe it is well I do not attend it. I hope you spent a more agreeable Christmas yesterday than I did. You could not have passed a more solitary one. I went in the morning to the English Chapel, no regard being paid by the Kirk of Scotland to the day, more than a common week-day,and spent the evening with Milton, reading his beautiful Hymn on #PAGE 5 the Nativity, and his poem of Paradise Regained. The verses signed H.W. in the Dublin paper were not mine. A Monody has lately appeared here, entitled the "Blighted Rose of Albion" to which I have a stronger claim. I was induced to put my name at length, that any defects in the poem might not be saddled on poor people, who are entirely innocent and that I might bear the load of censure on my own shoulders. I have printed it at my own expense and fear I will be considerably out of pocket. This will sufficiently prove, that it was not written with any venal view, but from a pure and unmixed feeling, which is perhaps more than the most famed son of the muses in this part, could say were he to write on a similar occasion. It consists of nearly 400 lines. I have copied as much as I could at present for your perusal. With my love to all at home. I am your most affectionate Son, T. H. Wightman. THE BLIGHTED ROSE OF ALBION ___________________________ A Monody ________ Hark! does November's desolating blast Wail piteously fair Claremonts groves along; Or, do the woods lament their verdure past In Nature's dirge-like melancholy song? The trees again in pride may blossom, and spring may twine her charming braid, Tho' withering in the earth's dark bosom, Forms of celestial brightness fade. Alas! 'tis not the wailing of the year, For all her beauteous [tin-s?] departed; But the deep sob, which broken-hearted Anation pours beside a Royal bier; For she is gone - the fairest Flower, That ever bloomed in Britain's bower; The richest brightest purest Gem That ever graced a diadem! And there is written on each grief struck face, "What can this void e'er fill - this heavy loss replace? Throughout this land each Family Hath lost a member, though fate tore From Feeling's heart a dearest tie, And left it bleeding at its core, Ev'n Labour's hardy offspring melt and tears adorn each toil-worn cheek #PAGE 6 Their honest sympathhy bespeak. Oh! be the stroke in meek endurance felt- Let us the Chastening Hand adore! Yet still her loss our fruitless sighs deplore, To whom is fond idolatry Each in the heart's warm homage knelt As tho'a Seraph glided by- Snatches from this world, in youthful bloom, To the dark mansions of the tomb In life's gay prime, when countless pleasures Before her spread their choicest treasures Whilst round the golden visions flew Bright as Aurora's loveliest hue, She saw the future seasons roll, And streams of happiness expand, Beneath her guardian mild control, Over a cheerful smiling land When her beneficence - unbounded- Would scatter blessings o'er her Realms:- How sweetly then these accents sounded, The faint voice of that rapture, which o'erwhelming Mild Virtue's picturings, the spotless breast:- Of Britain's Daughter I am surely happiest" Sweet innocence of soul, which thus could keep Communion with benevolent intent, Most hapless people, fated not to reap The Harvest of a soil, which richest promise lent! From gilded palaces of pride, Ev'n to the humblest straw-roofed shed, Hath rolled Afflictions bitter tide, Far darker than the sable show The garb "the mockery of woe" Within the heart's recess is spread A settled gloom. The cypress shade Blackly overhangs each British hearth As though the hopes which round her play'd Lay buried with her in the earth. This alludes to the affecting exclamation, which the Princess has been heard to make "That she was the most happy woman in her father's Dominions" #PAGE 7 For she appeared - a beauteous light, Beaming from its exalted height Across the billows of the main; Which as the tempests wildly sweep Driving their night-beclouded bark, Poor Mariners - so wistful - mark, With hope, but hurried o'er the deep, They lose and never aee again! Albion! lament, your Princess is no more! Wail -Caledonia! round your rocky shore; And, Erin wake your Harp's most melting tone, For Charlotte the beloved - Alas for ever gone! Sent to the world - she seemed as if to bless, With bright examples, Grandeur's thoughtless train, Through Pleasure's maze passing phantoms vain Of every Virtue the mild monitress. In her life's Crystle mirror, Britain's fair - Gazing had found each moral beauty there, And in her royal home, domestic worth Blossoming had shed the sweetest fragrance forth. 'Tis in Adversity's hard lot, In wants oft needed intercourse, Within the Peasant's simple cot Affection resigns with stronger force; And hard it is among the great Slaves to the cruel forms of State, Which sunder nature's links, to find The soft endearments of the kind But tho' in Charlotte's breast there rushed Pure blood of royalty, yet never More limpid springs of kindness gushed than flowed in Sparkling currents there; And laved her downy plume - the Snow-white Dove Of Sympathy, within that stream of blandest love. Ye bowers of Claremont! ye have withnessed oft The secret gifts her lily hand bestowed, In showers of bounteousness, overflowing soft On Poverty's obscure and chill abode - Like dew descening on the desert drear Of the poor widow's loneliness, who bade Her little ones out-spread their hands in prayer For the good giver of such timely aid #PAGE 8 That Benefactress like the morning breeze Whose life balm all may breathe, but none it's light from sees. How she will fair upon her fine arch'd brow, As polished ivory clear sat [-andour?] - Truth! Expression warmed each lineament. In sooth, she was as perfect as an Angel's vow! Grace hung o'er every motion bending Each look an inborn entity possessed, Yet there a sweetness, gently blending The gaze of each be holder blessed, As Heaven's bright bow, on whose majestic sweep The softest beauties of the sun-beam sleep! ______________________ Here follows a description of her [?] happiness. The sudden change at Claremont from joyful preparations to mourning - description of the Mother and Infant laying dead, address to Death - anguish of Prince Leopold, the loss which Britain has sustained, anticipation of the probable glories of her reign, the excellence of her moral principles - Bishop [Portous?] blessing, conclusion. This is an outline of what is contained in the remainder of the Poem. I am sorry I have no opportunity of sending you a printed copy. The above will however, serve for the present. It was originally upwards of 500 lines, but I curtailed it as much as possible. Direct to the College as usual. I beg you will accept my best wishes on the approach of the New Year. It is too late to wish you a Merry Christmas. |
