# An emigrant's home letters/Letter Twenty-Four

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LETTER TWENTY-FOUR.
Sydney, May 24th, 1841.
My Dear Sister,
On the 16th of last month I received your letter, dated November 17th, 1840, and I cannot tell you the happiness it afforded me to know that my mother was still living to hear from her undutiful son, for I can scarcely forgive myself for not having written sooner, though I then had but an ill account to write. I expected to hear of misery and affliction from what I am able to learn here of the state of things at home, and therefore was not surprised at my father being so unfortunate, but not less sorry. I have not received any newspapers, and I hope you will not be at the trouble to send any more unless you can send them by some safer means ​than by post, as it appears that some party or other in the post office department makes it a common practice to detain all the English papers he can. It is my pleasing duty to tell you now that I have a much happier prospect before me than I had when I wrote to you this time last year, or than I ever had in my life. In my letter of May, 1840, my conscience constrained me to state the truth, however unwillingly. I and my dear and virtuous wife were then enduring the utmost poverty, and had been in that state ever since our arrival in the colony, I had then to associate, in my endeavours to obtain a livelihood, with the most debased and servile characters to be found in society. That confession of my misfortunes, I had reason to believe, would be highly gratifying to some at home, however they might attempt to disguise it; but there were others at home who had a right to know the truth, and I told you my misery and disappointment, heedless of the sneer of gratified malevolence. It would be ungrateful in me to say that I have met with no friends in Australia. When I had nothing to eat, and no means of getting it in the wild bush, a convict, who evidently knew the circumstance, brought me a share of his rations. On another occasion, when ​I had to travel through the bush in the middle of the night, a poor prisoner got up from his bed to carry my baggage, out of pure respect. But think not that I met with respect and kindness only among this class of my fellow-creatures. One of the most influential men in the colony, a member of the Legislative Council, and a descendant from one of the most illustrious families in England, has not thought me undeserving his kindness, and I have lately sat down to table with some of the most respectable merchants in Sydney. I have now a more comfortable home than it was ever my lot to possess in England. There is one species of wretchedness which I am now entirely free from—that of being in debt with no means of paying. Companions I have none beyond my wife and child, but I have plenty of books to amuse myself, and a deal of leisure time in which to read them. Upon the whole, I am getting reconciled to the country, though my home-sick heart still very frequently pines for its native land. Poor Clarinda spends a very solitary life, as my situation requires me to be absent from her the greater part of my time; still, the thought that our native land could not yield us bread reconciles her to the absence of friends, and our dear ​little girl, who can now just totter about from chair to chair, and repeat many little words very sweetly—our dear little blue-eyed ocean child is ever with her, to soothe her in her lonely hours. You ask me for the child's name. It is 'Clarinda Sarah.' She is now a year and ten months old, and, excepting a slight cold, is in a happy state of health. If she is at any time poorly, she fights most stoutly against taking physic, and says to her mother: "Father will beat you." In your next letter be pleased to let me know how all of you are getting on, particularly my father and mother (that I may determine in what way I may best assist them). It is my intention to remit some money home as soon as possible. It is probable that I shall return to London in three or four years, but I shall be sure not to stay in England, nor do I think I shall settle in Sydney. I have promised myself a voyage to Java before returning to Europe, which I shall probably make in the latter part of next year. You will think I am speaking extravagantly, but do not be surprised to receive a letter from me, dated from Manilla, or Sourabaya, or Batavia, or even Calcutta, for I am determined upon a trip to the East. Should you have any opportunity of sending to me ​otherwise than by post, send me all the old Birmingham newspapers which you can muster, also, if you can get them, the Weekly Dispatch, Tait's Magazine, and other publications of a late date. The only way in which you can send anything with safety is to make it into a small parcel, and send it by some particular ship, writing me the ship's name by post, but minding that the letter does not come in the same ship; that is, write early enough for your letter to come by some ship that sails before the one which is to bring the parcel. Your living so far from any seaport is an obstacle, but you can write to the agent of the ship you see advertised in London or Liverpool. The Times newspaper is the best for shipping advertisements. I am intimately acquainted with Mr. Chapman, chief officer of the Robert Newton, to whose care I entrust this small parcel. Should he be coming out here again, I will get him to write to you before sailing, so that anything you may wish to send may be forwarded to him to bring out to me. The Robert Newton will sail from Sydney in about three weeks from the date of this. In all probability she will arrive in England about September. I am also well acquainted with Capt. Hurry of the barque Beatrice, now loading at ​Sydney for London. By this vessel I will send to you. Be sure and write to me frequently. Should you see Mr. John Varney, junior, ask him to write to me. He is a young man whom I should much respect, even if he was not my wife's only brother. Tell him that I and his dear sister were much grieved to hear of the loss of his children, and much rejoiced to know that he was prospering in business, for he richly deserves to prosper. If my father-in-law, Mr. R. Varney, has it in his power to do anything for his children, I hope he will do all he can for John, for Clarinda will never want anything from him. In your letter you told me that Clarinda's father had sent a message by Dr. Ross. Clarinda accordingly waited on that gentleman the following Sunday, at the Independent Chapel in Pitt-street, and he stated that he had received no message whatever. Tell Mr. Varney from me not to trifle with our feelings again, through the agency of Dr. Ross or Dr. anybody else. If he has anything to say to us let him write, if there be pens and ink in Birmingham. In your next letter let me know if my father has any notion of being a farmer again, if he would make up his mind to leave his native country for ever, if he would like to end ​his days with us in Australia. He need not fear the hardships which we had to endure coming here, as we did, entire strangers.
Give our love to my brothers and sisters, with my best wishes for their future happiness. The trifles I send with this are hardly worth your accepting, 'But yet reject them not as such!' You wish to have some account of our passage out from England, which I will endeavour to furnish you in one of my next letters. In the meantime,
I remain. Yours affectionately; H. PARKES.
Address, Mr. Henry F. Parkes, officer of H.M. Customs, in care of Mr. W. Magee, bookseller and stationer, Pitt-street North, Sydney, N.S.W.