[[1]]*1
H.M.S. Erebus
Hobarton, June 29. 1841.
(10 days after Mary's decease)*2
My dearest Mother
The letter you were so kind as to write to me on the 1st Feb[ruar]y arrived this day &
was sent on board by Sir Jno Franklin. It is the first news of home that I have
received since our arrival here (very early in Ap[ri]l), & though totally unprepared for
the heavy news you communicate, still, so indelibly fixed on my mind is the
remembrance of what my first letter brought, that however indescribably delightful is
the sight of your well known handwriting, it was not without melancholy forebodings
that I broke the seal. It was extremely kind in you to write, so soon after having sent
such a budget as you describe by the Admiralty Bag. Nor can I tell you how
comforting is even this news (bad though it is) when I reflect how much more
promising it is than the still unarrived tidings must have been. I cannot bring myself
to believe that dear Mary*3 is no more:-- nor to think that Pulmonary disease can
have really attacked one whose eldest brothers lungs proved, after all, so sound: &
whose remaining brother is as hardy & strong as anyone can be. Still, -- God's will
be done! -- And should the result prove that your anticipations are well founded, I am
quite prepared to receive the intelligence that, one after another, of the few persons
whom I ever loved, are never to greet my return, -- nor to hear those little incidents
recited of my travels, which I cherish solely with the hope of imparting them to those
whose thoughts are so daily with
[[2]] me as mine are with them. It is indeed hard to look, with the mind's eye to the
fireside at home & to force myself to banish another form among the individuals for
whose sake only I care to return:-- And to feel that though I shall be restored to the
few that remain, as one brought back to what were five, -- there will be more cause
for sorrow than rejoicing. It is thus that those pleasing anticipations of my return,
which are so strongly fixed as far more than to counterbalance every difficulty &
danger, are marred! And though in the hour of peril, -- the consciousness that there
is one (though it should be but one person) who cares for you, is sufficient to cheer
one up: still there are hours & days of quiet, when more is required to enliven -- &
when, in spite of better resolutions, I am apt to repine against the wise decrees of
Him who orders all for the best. Little did I think, when I was roaming over the wild
hills of Ld Auckland's Isl[an]ds, & gathering the poor Albatrosses eggs to astonish her,
that & when she & all the rest of you came before me, most distinctly, in my dreams,
-- when I was beyond the pale of previous navigators, -- that she was then laid on a
bed of sickness from which she would probably never rise. I always looked too
much to the light side of things, & imagined her & Bessy*4 as the merry girls I left at
Kensington & whose only sorrow was parting with their brother.
By a Newspaper of the 17th Feb[ruar]y, I see that our arrival in V.D. Ld is announced.
I cannot wonder that long ere this you were anxious to hear of me. But by this time
you must have rec[eive]d my letters: for I wrote 5 to Papa, one to you, two to Maria, &
I think to
[[3]] both my other sisters. The first 2, --(viz. to my father & Maria) were put on board
a Ship going out of the Derwent[?] before we were moored;-- she carried no Mail
Bag, but the capt[ai]n promised most faithfully to consign them to the post on
reaching Engl[an]d. This was on the 17th Aug[us]t or thereabouts. How news of our
arrival in Kerguelen's Land can have preceded our letters, I cannot conceive.
Certainly the Erebus had no opportunity of sending the news; it is certainly just
possible that the Terror, from whom we parted company, may have fallen in with a
Whaler bound to V.D. Land, by which means Kay wrote to Lady Franklin. I however
much doubt it, & shall enquire. I do not wonder at your surprize[sic] at not hearing
from me on such an occasion. As it is, my first letters -- (written last Aug[us]t) must
have had an extraordinarily long passage home; had it been only an average one
answers might have been found on our arrival here -- in April -The Admiralty Bags, so far as I can learn, did not come by the Hebe, which arrived
here a fortn[igh]t ago: but have gone some how, to the China Fleet, including
Capt[ain] Ross' despatches from Engl[an]d & many other expected letters &c. I am
exceedingly glad they did not arrive before your letter which came today. Still I hope
to pick them up at Sydney. I dote upon the latter part of your letter, & cannot but
have the greatest hopes of dear little Mary's recovery: She is but now getting over
her growth & a Jersey summer will quite restore her. You tell me to take care of
myself:-- that I assure you, I do:-- much more, perhaps, than is needful, since this
cruize[sic] has proved me quite hardy. Except a slight cold & its concomitant
discomforts I have had nothing to complain & that has been since my arriving here.
During all the time I was in
[[4]] in[sic] the Southward I did not know an hour's illness of any kind whatever:-- the
cold is healthy in the extreme & an occasional ducking of sea water proves rather
beneficial. I always accustom myself to taking moderate exercise in hauling the
ropes, setting sails, putting the Ship about &c. Thus my chest expands my arms get
hard & the former rings almost when it is struck.
June 30th 1841
The idea of my father's obtaining Kew is highly gratifying to me & by your letter it
seems almost a settled thing. Still, there are so many slips between cup & lip &
Ministers are now I suppose so busy preparing for War, that the thing must proceed
but slowly & I do not build much on their promises till they are fulfilled. The trouble &
expense of the removal must be enormous, & I sincerely wish I were at home to take
the management off him; as it is, if deferred much more than 12 months I doubt not
to have a hand in the business. If any one deserves Kew, he certainly does for
every reason: & when I return he will have plenty of work to put into my hands.
I need not tell you what this day is: nor will you suppose, but that I look upon it in two
ways. It is certainly most pleasant to it know that those at home, who remain, are
thinking of me, & wishing me many happy returns of this day, & happy ones they
have hitherto been & the recollection of its many happy predecessors does call up
the most delightful sensations. But when I look forward to what my future birthdays
will probably be, I experience a sorrow hitherto unfelt on these occasions, & the
possibility of whose occurrence was quite unheeded by me. Along with your letter,
came a most kind & interesting one from Lady Aunt Palgrave. She is
[[5]] so inseparably connected with the last glimpses I had of Maria, that I feel her to
be one of our family. and when I tell you that this is not the first time she has made
of accompanying your letters by some of her handwriting, you will not be
surprized[sic] that I should hold her, as one of my dearest & kindest friends. Her
house was always my home when in London & she a mother to me. I often think of
the little sketchbook that she used to amuse me with & I cherish a picture which she
gave me of Maria, beyond any thing.
Your former letters have doubtless told me all about Jersey. I hear a great deal of
that Island from one of my messmates Yule, a most worthy fellow, whose father was
one of Nelson's [1 word crossed out, illeg.] Lieutenants at Trafalgar, & a retired
Commander. He has since died since his son left England & so I believe, has the
mother too, though Yule has had no letter announcing[?] it & of course is ignorant of
the fact. His family has left Jersey, but he is constantly talking of it & describes the
climate as very beautiful & the scenery delightful:-- only the servants are bad (I hope
you took your own); & the society of any individuals whom you may not have known
before is to be eschewed. I would fain that the heavy expense my father must have
incurred in removing you all there may be repaid. If you only tell me whereabouts
the house you live in is situated, I dare say Yule will know all about it. It must be
warmer than this place though here the Climate is delightful; only rather cold & rainy
at the present season: it is most healthy, save to consumptive persons, who are
carried off with appalling rapidity owing to the sudden changes of the atmosphere. I
have often seen the Thermometer fall 10 degrees in an hour
[[6]] during the daytime. I liked the steady cold of the Antarctic Circle much better,
when the mercury never rose to 32º on the least cold day: though the weather here
does not affect me at all. We were here before during the spring (August -Oct[obe]r) when the days are clear & cloudless neither too hot nor too cold.
Altogether this climate is preferable to that of Britain, much less rainy cold & damp:
but then there are hot winds which are uncomfortable to a degree:-- often raising the
Thermometer to above 100º.
The society is perfectly English & there is a marked line drawn between the children
of Convicts, of Ticket of leave men & of Emancipated Convicts, & the offspring of
honester individuals in however low a capacity these may have entered the Colony.
Of the latter, most come hither as Hucksters & shopkeepers who gradually, or rather
quickly, rising to affluence, now rank with the gentlemen of the Colony. Not but that
there are still a great many men of education & worth, who brought their children out
& their money too. The amount of property in the shape of money, Mortgages,
Cattle, &c, is quite enormous: for there are many persons here with several hundred
thousand pounds. All the Banks return 10 p[e]rc[en]t on money deposited. Literature
is, however, at a very low ebb, & except a few English families there are none who
take the better periodicals or would comprehend them if they did. There are lots of
splendid Pianos & Harps, & few who can use them. 300 Copies of Gould's most
extravagant book are purchased by these Colonists, solely for the pleasure of seeing
the show of it on their Tables.
There is now a Ship working up the River & before evening she will have sent her
Mails ashore. She is supposed to be the "Persian" from London & though you have
written much to me lately,
[[7]] I venture to hope she may bring me a letter, however short, that I may know how
Mary is, especially as by the time she sailed March 1st, you must have received
some of mine. *2 Should she have nothing for me, I shall hope for the best. At least,
there will be some hope.
Since I arrived here, I have received 2 parcels of books from my father. One is a box
& the other, which arrived very lately, via Sydney, is what Dr Johnstone should have
brought, had it reached him before he sailed. I cannot thank my father too much for
their contents, nor poor grandpapa for the German books for I see most of them are
his. I am hobbling through this language by degrees & these new arrivals will be
quite invaluable to me on my next cruize[sic] to the Southward. [Walter Hood] Fitch,
too, has sent me a pretty Sketch of flowers -- for which token of friendship I thank
him much, though I can make but a very unworthy return. While you were writing the
letter just received, I was between 77º & 78 South, off the Burning Mountain &
Victoria Barrier. The pleasure of having beaten the world then compensated all our
toils & when rejoicing at being stopped by what must equally stop all future
adventurers, I little thought that you were watching such beds of sickness. & that I,
with least reason, was the happiest of the family.
By the time you receive this, I shall be near the Ice again; nor does the prospect look
half so formidable as it did before being seen: like many objects of apprehension, it
is not near so bad when known as it had appeared beforehand.
[[8]] The enclosed is a cheque to repay my father for the books he has purchased. If
there be any surplus, it is of no service to me, & I beg it may be used to provide
anything wanted for my sisters or yourself:-- or indeed where it is most needed. I am
sure you must want it & I shall be much grieved if you refuse to accept it.
I rejoice that my poor Grandfather is still spared & nothing will please me better than
to see him with his great grandchild. Poor little thing! I hope she will grow up good &
strong. And also that Isabella is a pleasant companion to poor Maria -- God bless
you all & believe me y[ou]r most aff[ectionat]e son | (Signed) J.D. Hooker
ENDNOTES
1. This letter is a 19th Century manuscript copy written in a hand not that of the
original author, Joseph Dalton Hooker. The copy was probably made by Hooker’s
mother or sister so that a version could be circulated amongst family and friends.
The words "Copy recd Decr 10" are written at the top of page 1.
2. This information is assumed to be an addendum by the copyist as it would have
been unknown to Joseph Hooker at the time he wrote the original letter.
3. Mary Harriet Hooker (1825--1841). Joseph Hooker's youngest sister, died age 15
whilst he was away at sea.
4. Elizabeth Evans--Lombe née Hooker (1820--1898). Joseph Hooker's sister, often
called Bessy.
5. The following wording is indicated for inclusion here and written at the bottom of
page 7: "(We got nothing till the end of March), & did not write to Joseph by the
"Persian"". This wording appears to have been added by the person who copied the
letter.
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