Catherine
Man to her brother (1830)
Cape
Town. 26 Febry. 1830.
My
beloved Brother
After a period of nearly five months absence from dear England I address
you from hence! An eventful period indeed to me! I could almost wish that the
melancholy communications this will convey may have reached you ere its arrival,
but that cannot be, since no vessel has recently sailed from this port. I am
therefore the first to announce to you the loss of the Lady Holland! She was wrecked on the night of the 13th on Dassen Island.
No life was lost, and I doubt not your first feelings will be poured
forth in gratitude for our preservation. Yes ‑ God was merciful in that
night of terror, and I lament before him the hardness of my heart not more
deeply impressed with a sense of his undeserved goodness. But my beloved
Friends, your tears must flow! Many
of your fondest anticipations are overthrown, and you have to have one more
lesson on the frailty of all this world can promise!
He who inflicts the blow can alone sustain you and I am persuaded this
hour of trial will not find you unacquainted with submission to His Will!
I have just closed my melancholy packet for England, and now with a
bleeding heart take up my pen for you. When on the night of the 13th. I stood in
momentary expectation of an awful death, it was a cause of thankfulness to me
that one most dear to us was removed beyond its reach. She had already passed
through the dark Valley, and I had confident hope was then rejoicing in the
presence of her God and Saviour! How
can I soften to you, my precious Friends, the heartbreaking tidings. It must
be imparted and Nature must demand her first agonising burst of woe! Yes. We
have lost our sweet and beloved Sarah. It pleased God to remove her from us on
the 24 of last month, after an illness so rapid that we can scarcely at this
moment realise her loss. Immediately after her death I wrote down a minute
account of every circumstance which I will now copy for you. It was fortunate I
did so, for my head is so bewildered with the late events that memory seems
almost to have failed. Oh my dear Eliza, I feel for you at this moment more than
I can express, how different will be our meeting (if it indeed be the will of
God we ever meet) to that we had fondly anticipated. Ah, look beyond the present
scene of your trial, what tho' “her sun has gone down while yet it is
day" she is taken from the evil to come, and we have only to bless our God
for the good hope he has given us of the safety of her immortal soul. A more
gentle, humble, unoffending spirit never inhabited human frame; yet she knew her
own Nothingness and that no safety was to be found but in the merits of
her redeemer. The dear girl had never been well since she left England, it was
remarked on the night of our embarkation that she had taken cold, which she
assured me she was wholly free from on quitting Dover, and it was probably the
result of a very cold and wet drive to Deal. Yet I cannot remember from that day
(Friday) to the following Sunday when we embarked together, any appearance of
it, but in the course of that evening, when walking on Deck, a medical gentleman
on board remarked it to her, but certainly till we reached Madeira there was
nothing about her that could excite alarm. Her suffering from seasickness was
most severe and I was led not only to ascribe her general state of languor, but
also her cough to some nervous irritation caused by the weakened state of her
stomach, which could scarcely contain the slightest nourishment from the
continued excess of seasickness. You know we were detained a month at Madeira
towards the end of which her cough greatly increased so as to excite uneasiness
in Mrs. Lascelles and myself. I attributed the increase of her cold to her
having twice got wet, which was a risk we could not guard against every time we
left the house, as the rain came on in sudden and violent bursts. We then for
the first time talked of the propriety of having medical advice, but as we daily
expected to leave the island and she continually assured me that she was not
sensible of any illness, I delayed with the hope of soon putting her under the
care of our Medical Gentleman on board. After
a week's sail from Madeira we reached St. Jago. We went on shore and walked
nearly two hours. The day unfortunately was intensely hot. Poor dear! I find
amongst her little memorandums this remark – “We returned to Dinner, and I
found myself very ill" ‑ I am not prepared to say the heat of this
day really injured her; it is certain that her complaint before then was
deep‑seated, beyond the reach of aid.
However, the first acute symptom appeared that night in pain under the
right shoulder. For this she was bled, and finding the pain not completely
removed a blister was applied, successfully. The whole danger of the complaint
lay in its sub‑acute character previous to this period, but from this, the
rapid appearance of alarming symptoms, such as the pulse never under a hundred,
quick and short breathing (tho’ I should not say difficult) so greatly raised
our apprehensions that Mrs Lascelles requested the attendance of a second
Medical Gentlemen who was a passenger on board. Both agreed in a decided
opinion that her complaint was of a constitutional nature, and must have been
long, tho’ insidiously forming. This opinion they have since given me
in writing, drawn up as a medical case. Up to this period she was not confined
for one day to her Bed, but was daily assisted sometimes two or three times to
Mr. L's cabin. At length it was recommended that she should go on Deck for air
on a little exercise. She was not, however, more than four times on Deck at
different intervals, and on the day following the last time the first appearance
of expectorating blood took place. Both Medical Men were with her. They then
informed me that the complaint had assumed its most alarming character, and we
might apprehend that any recurrence of the circumstances would prove fatal, tho’
it was also possible that her life might be protracted for some time, this was a
fortnight before her death. At three in the morning of the same day the
expectoration again came on, slight in quantity but of a pure arterial nature.
From that time to her death it wholly subsided.
An abscess had formed on the chest, the bursting of which would cause
instant suffocation, but the Haemorrhage which had already taken place was
conjectured to have been caused by the rupture of some of the small
inconsiderable vessels in consequence of pressure. From this period the dear
girl never left her cabin, though she was daily dressed and moved to a sopha.
She was blistered six times for weight on the chest and pain in the left
shoulder, which gradually moved to the side. This was the severest treatment she
was subjected to, and it is a great comfort to know that her sufferings were by
no means great, either from the complaint or the treatment. Indeed it was the
slow (slow in the first instance) and subacute character of the disease that
constituted its danger by not evincing until too late symptoms to excite alarm.
When these did appear the rapidity of its progress was astonishing. The most
powerful Medicine (digitalis) had no effect in reducing the pulse, the only
thing that procured temporary relief (and that but slightly) was blistering, but
nothing in the slightest degree reached the complaint, plainly proving the
constitutional predisposition of her system. I was very slow in admitting this
belief, but now I am fairly persuaded of it. Four days preceding her death she
appeared to be decidedly better; her cough was better, and expectoration nearly
ceased. The last I find was in reality an alarming symptom. Her mind became much
more alive, she was surprisingly more cheerful, and conversed freely, generally
she had evinced much unwillingness to speak, as if great exertion was required
in arousing her mental powers. Never can I forget her lovely placid countenance,
her sweet smile, and her beautiful blush whenever she was addressed, but alas,
these were perhaps fatal signs of the enemy beneath. Having closely attended her
she became greatly endeared to me. Dr. and Mrs. Lascelles and her sister were
always ready to relieve me, there was also an elderly respectable English
servant on Board, much experienced as a Nurse, but I could scarcely bear that
the slightest thing should be done for her by another. About four days previous
to the dear girl's death Dr. Lascelles deemed it proper that Miss Molesworth
should leave the Cabin. I do not believe the measure was recommended by the
medical men, but having expressed to them his fears, they of course assented and
we can fully admit their propriety. A fear of alarming dear Sarah had induced
him to protract the measure; I am however convinced she felt none, as the
measure was easily ascribed to the advantage of better regulating the
temperature of her Cabin. On Saturday she appeared in good spirits, and found
much alleviation to her cough from inhaling the steam of hot vinegar and water,
and on the previous day the expectoration had become more free with favorable
appearances. I had however totally ceased to be sanguine from the very candid
statements of both medical men, but I did trust, poor darling, that she would
reach the Cape, perhaps India! Her
appetite had for weeks entirely failed, but on this day she was enabled to taste
a little animal food. In the evening I was persuaded to go for a short turn on
deck, having been confined for several days to the Cabin.
Mrs. Lascelles' Ayah (a good creature whom you may remember) sat with her
and the dear girl gave many directions about things she wished to have placed
ready for landing at the Cape, generally her eyes filled with tears and she said
nothing when we spoke of arriving there. About ten o'clock as usual her Bed was
made and she was placed comfortably in it for the night. I then kissed her and
she threw her arms around me, which she had done several times during the day.
We both slept until one o'clock, when I heard her cough and immediately
rose to give her a little lemonade. She drank nearly the tumblerfull, and
returned it to me with a smile, but her cough immediately returned in rather a
distressing manner, and while I was pouring out a little vinegar and honey she
called to me in great alarm that she was spitting blood!
I tried to soothe her, but she was greatly agitated, and finding the
quantity of blood passed increasing. I
called for assistance and a great alarm was excited.
Poor dear, for about ten minutes she continued to cough up qantities,
trembling violently. She had before said she could not sustain another attack,
yet it is surprising that I did then think she was dying, and my shock was so
extreme that I became unable to support her, when an extraordinary sound became
audible in her throat, and she appeared to struggle greatly. I said, “Speak to
me Love, what is it,”. She
evidently in reply shook both her hands almost wildly indicating tho’ sensible
that she could not speak. Alas, the
abscess had burst and was then filling the air-cells of the lungs; in a minute
after she fell back in the Doctor’s arms, an in ten minutes more all signs of
pulsation ceased! We stood in mute
anguish around her couch until the Doctor, laying her upon the Pillow, gave us a
look that told us all was over. Our grief could no longer disturb her dying
moments! Mrs. Lascelles instantly
bore me from the scene, but it was impossible to resign the last sad offices to
the hands of others, and I returned in a few minutes I indulged the hope of
preserving her sweet remains until the following day (she expired on Sunday
morning) but the impropriety of the attempt was so forcibly impressed on me that
I was compelled to yield, and it was arranged that the sad ceremony should take
place immediately after the morning service, which was put off
as late as possible. Not on
shore, surrounded by her nearest kindred could more respect and propriety have
been observed. I had a black cloth
habit on Board which served which served to cover her coffin, and I found
attention had been paid to lining it neatly; these perhaps are trifles, yet I
feel, my dear Friends, when your grief is in some degree softened, they will be
soothing to you as proofs of attention and respect.
After giving her the last sad kiss, I removed with dear Mary Molesworth
into an adjoining Cabin. This dear girl exhibited a most feeling heart, and our
tears flowed together as the sound of enclosing sweet Sarah in her last abode
mingled with the voice of Captain Snell reading the psalms and lessons for the
day. The following verses in the 118th Psalm came to my heart with that deep
solemnity which can only be felt at such a moment. 19v. :- "Open to me the
gates of righteousness, that I may go into them, and give thanks unto the Lord.
This is the gate of the Lord, the righteous shall enter into it. I will thank
thee for Thou hast heard me, and art become my Salvation. The same stone which the builders refused, is become the
headstone in the corner." Surely
our beloved Sarah had entered this gate, for the stone had not been to her a
brook of offence. And clothed in the Robe of imputed Righteousness, we
beheld her, by faith, standing before the Throne of Grace and giving thanks to
Him who had become
her Salvation! Is not this rich consolation, my beloved Eliza? You would not
have her back again! At length the doors of her Cabin were thrown wide open, and she who had so recently entered there in the bloom of youth,
beauty, and apparent health was carried forth to be committed to the silent
deep! I confess that to me there
is nothing dreadful in this circumstance, the only really distressing part of it
is that of dying far from her home, and her relatives. Many tears have been shed
for her, but who could weep like them! Poor
Darling, we cannot tell what thought of them may have rushed in to her mind
during that last sad struggle! She sometime spoke of them to her friends, but to
me it seemed a theme she could not trust herself with; her eyes would fill and
she would turn away. I have as yet only alluded to the subject which I know, my
Friends, you feel to be of the greatest moment; and you will feel what an
arduous task I had to perform from the time I was made acquainted with her
danger. I could not speak to my God that she could not be prepared to appear in
His presence, you know that natural reserve of her disposition, and how little
she expressed her feelings on any subject, and you will form some idea how
extremely painful it must be to force into the recesses of a mind thus
constituted. I was also aware that
I should bring on myself much odium if not persecution, and this was too new to
me not to be greatly dreaded. My
dearest James, I know you feel for your sister, placed under circumstances of
heavy responsibility, which all the previous habits of my life rendered me unfit
for. When I left the dear circle from whom I have only experienced affection and
tenderness, I little imagined how much of the reverse I was to experience within
the short space of a few months. I
have this consolation, I did not shrink form my duty; or should it please God
again to restore me to the reciprocal ties of kindred and friends, all my
regrets will be forgotten in the gratitude for the benefit which affliction can
only bestow. I mentioned that Sarah
was as much alarmed when attacked by the first expectoration of blood,
connecting it I have no doubt with the very recent and similar case of her
Cousin Henry. She remained for some
time dejected and thoughtful, but said nothing that could lead me to form any
conclusion whether she was awakened to a serious sense of her danger.
She had been accustomed to hear much on the subject of religion and I
daily read to her whatever seemed to me most likely to touch her mind; still we
had no positive evidence that it was rightly directed. On the evening
following the day on which her first alarming symptoms appeared was the first
time I ventured any direct allusion to herself respecting her situation. I
remarked on the alarm she evinced, and asked if it proceeded from any feeling
that her illness was dangerous. She replied: “Yes, because there was
Blood!" I then said: I will not deceive you; I believe there is danger. It
may be God's will to restore you, but in either case you must be sensible that
the design of this application is to bring you to Himself." I then
entreated her to use every means for obtaining a lively sense of God's love and
pardon through the merits of the precious Redeemer, and asked if she would like
to converse on the subject with Mr. Duff, a Scotch Minister on Board, and a most
excellent and exemplary Christian. She readily assented, but though I could
observe she was much affected by my manner of address, she made no comment. In a
few minutes she turned away on the Sopha, and I could discover she was weeping.
My own heart was so full that I could not look towards her, or venture to press
the subject. After this Mr. Duff daily visited her, and he considered the state
of her mind as very promising. There was a natural timidity and reserve about
her which made it very difficult to draw her out and no doubt to overcome it was
a most painful effort to herself, but on the last interview in particular she
was more communicative and lamented that her heart was not more sensibly alive
to the important truth of the Gospel. I regu1arly prayed with her in the
morning, and our plan in reading Scripture was to follow up each subject through
parallel passages. These seasons, I am convinced were precious to us both, and
after she was dressed and removed to the sopha (dear Mary Molesworth's bed,
which she resigned to her) our Cabin door was shut, and we enjoyed the privilege
of addressing our Saviour thro’ faith in that promise that where "two are
met in His Name, there will He be present". Her attention at these times
was even solemn, and I have sometimes been so much overcome as to be unable to
proceed in prayer, which she generally repeated in an audible whisper. All this
must have impressed her with a serious feeling of her situation; yet she never
but on one occasion alluded expressly to her danger. She then said to one of her
young friends; "I shall not live long - perhaps not through this
month!" Poor darling, this was indeed verified!
I
have thus endeavoured, my dearest James and Eliza, to give you every particular
connected with your sad bereavement; and this is the fourth time I have detailed
them. How my heart bleeds for her dear Parents! When I determined upon my
passage for India, I was solely induced by the desire of engaging Mr.
Lascelles's protection, who proposed it to me in the kindest manner. I had not
the most remote idea of undertaking any responsibility, and feel my error in
permitting the opportunity you had previously assayed for my voyage to pass
over. I was decidedly wrong in consenting to share a Cabin with others, yet I
cannot lament that it led to my attendance on the dear creature we have lost,
which seemed naturally to devolve upon me thro’ my dr. James's union with her
sister. You will feel for me, but you can have no idea of the amount of
suffering I have endured thro’ the whole of this most protracted, most
wretched voyage. Captain Snell offered Sarah and me a separate Cabin, which I
would gladly have accepted had we agreed to any terms; as it was I did not chuse
to owe him the obligation. He also offered me the use of his own Cabin for some
days after her death, but I would, not for a moment seem to yield my sense of
his improper conduct towards our friends the Lascelles; he however persisted in
visiting me daily, and assured me that I was entirely mistaken in ascribing any
part of his conduct as directed against myself, tho’ I had so unaccountably
persisted in identifying myself with the others! All this we can talk
over when we meet. At the moment when Eternity seemed to open before us,
forgiveness was mutually exchanged, by all parties. Therefore I
must consider any allusion to the past events with a feeling of recrimination
and acrimony, as highly culpable God knows - when the first crash of our
vessel against the Rooks struck to my heart like the summons to meet my God, I
uttered a prayer for pardon that such sentiments had ever possessed my mind.
Ah, how often does the disciple of the meek and lowly Jesus forget whom
he has to take up his cross and follow. Mr L. persisted in leaving his own Cabin
for several nights, that I might share it with his wife and sister and on many
occasions they have been most kind. Indeed the remembrance of all we have
suffered together, I think, cannot soon be obliterated. I intended to continue
in the same boarding house with them during our stay at the Cape, but two days
after our arrival I was surprised by an invitation from Lady Frances Cole to
reside at the Government House. I found that Captain Story has named me to her,
which led, to this, but I felt most reluctant to avail myself of it, tho’ Mr.
Lascelles strongly urged me to
accept it. I called on Lady Frances to express my thanks and apologies, but the
extreme and feeling kindness of her manner led me to change my intention, and as
the family were then in the country, and she assured me I should be undisturbed
in my own appartments, I felt that change would be desirable from a public
boarding-house, in my then very depressed state of spirits. She then named that
a Miss Lightfoot had been recommended to her protection and inquired if I would
admit her to share my accommodation, which of course I readily acceded to. This
poor girl was most unpleasantly situated, having no connection with Mr.
Lascelle’s Party. I have now been here ten days, and see Lady Francis or her
sister Lady Catherine Bell every morning, who kindly aid me in every facility
for refitting on the cheapest terms, by recommendation to their own People, a
most essential kindness in a place so extravagant as the Cape, and I have been
able to renew! My nerves are so
much shaken that I almost sicken at the prospect of renewing the Voyage, much as
I desire to shorten the period of our separation.
I have however secured a Cabin on Board the ‘William Glen Anderson’?
Which Mr. L. has taken up and chartered and we expect to sail in about two
weeks.
How
does this place renew juvenile recollections, when children, we, my dear James,
have together been over these very mountains chasing grasshoppers and the many
beautiful insects which abound here. I perfectly remember standing to look at
the fountain before the Government House, which I now inhabit with such very
different feelings. Scenes like
those I have passed thro’ make us egotists, and I suspect this would be
strongly manifested could we attend to the narrative of each actor in the late
eventful scenes.
Farewell
my friends - may the God of all consolation comfort and bless you.
C.
Man