[[1]] (Copy) *1
H.M.S. Erebus. Berkeley Sound
East Falkland. Nov. 28. 1842.
(rec[eive]d March 6. 1843)
My dear Mrs [Mary] Boott*2,
On our return, the other day, from the immediate neighbourhood of Cape Horn, I had
the great pleasure of receiving your kind & prompt reply to a letter of mine, the
perusal of which can never have given you half the pleasure that I received from
yours, which was accompanied by two from Dr. Boott*3. I am at a loss how to
express my obligations for such a degree of kindness as only your own affectionate
disposition could have prompted.
As my dear little sister Mary is the first person with whom you & Dr. Boott's name
comes connected to me I cannot pass her memory without a word. It is true, from the
tenor of my kind parents' letters, I never expected to see her again: & thus the bitter
pang of knowing her to be dead was past soon after the receipt of those letters at the
Bay of Islands. But still it was impossible to help "hoping against hope"; & my
dreams, both by night & by day, were often filled with the possibility of meeting her
once more. I am no believer in presentiments, or any such preternatural
hallucinations; but having been told before quitting England that she appeared
constitutionally liable to consumption, I often remembered with pain those beautiful
lines "If never again on earth we meet, And this our parting be for ever" &c, -- and
these she enclosed, in her letter to me, before my sailing from England.
Your account of the state of health and happiness in which my parents now live is
truly cheering, for I had greatly feared
[[2]] that my father's late illness had perhaps made an inroad upon his constitution:
that such, however, is happily not the case. I am truly thankful: nor must I fail to
congratulate you upon Dr. Boott's restoration, which my Father mentions with great
satisfaction. I shall write to him myself & thank him if I do nothing more.
You fear that your letter may not prove interesting because so many stirring scenes
are presented to my eyes. Believe me however that you gratify me highly by
mentioning the progress which is making in London by the Arts, as they appeal to
persons in my own sphere of life & whose sight is unprejudiced, as well as their
minds. The speculation of that American gentleman*4, who has conveyed China itself
to England is really marvellous & quite characteristic of a nation, whose enterprize in
Trade is as remarkable as in Science. The skaiting[sic] shop is a capital specimen of
the spirit of true Cockneys. Who but they would call going to Margate a sea voyage?
or would endure to slide, like children in a boarded room, comparing it, the while, to
the manly & healthful sport of skaiting? -- even in name. I often regret that I never
saw any pictures which can be called good. A taste relish for this branch of the Fine
Arts has not yet extended to the colonies whose children cannot be expected to
exercise taste, when the parents have no models to show them. My own taste on
such subjects was never formed; though, like most persons, I knew what pleased
me, I was much soothed when I was told (on regretting this circumstance) that
Joshua Reynolds never could appreciate any part of a painting, till he had seen it
several times. Sir Walter Scott, I think, in Paul's letters to his Kinsfolk, says, when
speaking of the Louvre in its palmy days, that the beauties of the finest pictures do
not strike all at once. Without comparing myself to either of these
[[3]] great men, I must say that next to the want of society, the want of music and
painting is one of the most irksome that a sea voyager is bound to endure. When I
have been weary of work, even a tinkling musical toy has sounded most charming:
but all the boxes, have at last been broken or given away, my sole consolation
remains in whistling those tunes which most recall pleasant scenes to my memory, though this is sorely to the annoyance of my neighbours, who growl, like free--born
Britons, at the noise I make.
Capt. Ross remembers my old friend Frank at the Linnaean Society, & sends, with
kind regards, his hopes that he will grow up to be a Naturalist & a man like his father.
I am very glad you have gleaned something interesting, or what you flatter me by
calling so, from my letter. The scenes it attempted to describe were truly
extraordinary, so much so that I cannot recall the unrivalled coup d'oeil to my mind at
once. And yet, when actually there, it is only on certain occasions, that the full force
of the view is felt, for such days as permitted me to lean over the gangway for an
hour, musing on the land, sea & ice--scape were few & far between. "Mount Erebus"
itself was first seen as land:-- then as an island:-- it had a cloud on its summit, that
cloud was smoke:-- it certainly appeared very high; but from the deceptive effect of
perspective (especially when interfered with by snow) it was brought forward & thus
its true elevation was masked. 21 hours after its discovery, it was pleased to become
active & even then we did not suppose it was to be the farthest South land
discovered:-- & lastly, it was not till more than a week after, that this Volcano proved
to be joined to that continent which we had traced from 71° Southwards. All these
things coming in slow succession, take
[[4]] away from our interest, at the time, but enhances it afterwards. The
insignificance of a ship, when, from the mast head, nothing can be descried around,
but a waste of dreary ice, which is all the world, for a time:-- no animated object to
relieve the eye, from the immediate neighbourhood, to where this earth of sea meets
the sky, is perhaps, (next to being close under a good iceberg) the most striking
object presented to the Antarctic Voyager:-- his own helpless state & entire
dependence on this little speck, his good ship, must ever be felt. – however true[?]
the real danger may be.
Since I addressed you, more than 6 months ago, we have had a most pleasant trip
to Hermite Island, close to Cape Horn & one of the Fuegian groupe. This part of the
world has always to me the character of being eminently rigorous & inhospitable, -very much because poor Sir Joseph Banks & Dr. Solander, after being accustomed
to tropical heat & that hottest of harbours, Rio de Janeiro, were rather suddenly
cooled down here in the height of summer. The climate in winter is, however, as mild
in proportion as the summers are chilly:-- the annual temperature, is assuredly low,
but the average of that of each season are remarkably close.
The hills, catching all the vapors, cause a cloudy atmosphere, which added to the
depth of the valleys, & other circumstances connected with the formation of the land,
prevent the Sun's rays from having much effect on the earth. The richness of the soil,
the moisture & shelter of these valleys, nourish a most luxuriant vegetation; whereas
the flat & desolate Falklands cannot boast one of these requisites for the production
& subsistence of trees.
On my way up from St Martin's Cove we passed close under the cliff of Cape Horn,
so near that we could describe the birds upon it, & the day was so fine that we
enjoyed it extremely. Cape Horn is far from being
[[5]] that grand object described by Capt. Hall as a stupendous cloud; capped mass,
but it is a very respectable cliff, quite fine enough to attract attention & even
admiration, without working the beholder into a poetical fit. Its elevation is about 600
feet, I believe; a little grass grows towards the top, while a densely matted clothing of
the deciduous -- leaved Fuegian Beeches, then of a brown colour, but green in
summer, cover the slopes.
The hills of Fuegia are very fine, clad with snow & rearing their crested peaks, cones
& broken rugged masses, "like giant's castles, hung mid--air" -- their bases always
densely wooded & often sombre green from the abundance of the Evergreen Beech
in all the sheltered sides.
I fear however that I am trespassing on your time by making this letter so long, I shall
therefore break off, in the hope of soon being able to tell you, in words, what my poor
talent of writing will not allow me otherwise to describe.
Again thanking you for your kind interest in me & for all the good wishes of your
family, to whom you will offer my best regards, I am, dear Mrs. Booth, truly y[ou]rs
Jos. D. Hooker
To Mrs. Boott
Gower St. London
ENDNOTES
1. This letter is a contemporary 19th century copy, not written in the hand of the
original author Joseph Dalton Hooker, and not signed by him. The copy was
probably made by Hooker's Mother or one of his sisters to be circulated amongst
family and friends.
2. Mary Boott nee Hardcastle (1794/5--1850). Daughter of the botanist Lucy
Hardcastle who may have been an illegitimate child of Erasmus Darwin. Married in
1820 to Francis Boott a practicing doctor and botanist who published a monograph
on the genus Carex.
3. Dr Francis Boott (1792--1863). American doctor and botanist who lived in England
from 1820. His botanical studies were confined to the Genus Carex. His monograph
of 158 species of Carex was printed in Sir William Jackson Hooker's Flora BorealiAmericana. Fellow and sometime Treasurer and Secretary of the Linnean Society.
4. An annotation has been added at the bottom of page 2 with a cross indicating that
it should be inserted a this point in the text. The annotation reads: "Mr Dunn, the
owner of the Chinese Exhibition at Hyde park Corner." This explanatory note was
probably added by whoever copied out the original letter.
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