Tasmanian photographer | Thomas J. Nevin (1842-1923)

John Nevin’s Service Records (1825-1841)

At the Canadian Rebellion 1837-39

A fortified pass. Colonel Wetherall advancing to the capture of St. Charles Lord Charles Beauclerk (1813-1842)

Passage of the Richelieu by night, 22nd Nov. 1837 Lord Charles Beauclerk (1813-1842)

Col. Wetherall’s bivouack at St. Hilaire de Rouville, 1840 Lord Charles Beauclerk (1813-1842)

Attack on St. Charles Lord Charles Beauclerk (1813-1842)

Front view of the church of St. Eustache occupied by the insurgents.

Fort Chambly Estampe, William Henry Bartlett, vers 1840.

Back view of the church of St. Eustache and dispersion of the insurgents

Captain Weatherall, the 1st or Royal Scots Regiment of Foot 1818 by Heath, William

As a Chelsea Pensioner 1841

Chelsea pensioner, 1834

Chelsea pensioners 1785 satirical, Courtesy Brown University Archive

John Nevin in Tasmania (1852-1887)

Read about John Nevin …

Obituary – John Nevin – Obituaries Australia (external link)

Lost originals: the Nevin, Genge and Chandler family photographs

John Nevin and family 1851-1854: shipping documents

John Nevin’s poem on the death of James William Chrisholm 1863

John Nevin snr in the Royal Scots First Regiment of Foot

John Nevin snr and the Genge family

John Nevin in the Royal Scots at the Canadian Rebellion 1837-38

John Nevin: My Cottage in the Wilderness 1868

John Nevin and Gould’s white goshawk

Wedding gift: Treaty of Paris medallion 1856

The Nevin farm burglariously entered 1881

 Lines on the much lamented death of Rebecca Jane Nevin 1866

John Nevin’s Wesleyan lament on the death of William Genge

John Nevin’s poem on the death of James William Chisholm 1863

WRITTEN on the much-lamented death of the late JAMES WILLIAM CHISHOLM, of Hobart Town, a native of Edinburgh, aged 61 years.

His toils are past, his warfare o’er,
No suffering anguish heaves his breast;
Far from his own lov’d native shore
Has found a place of lasting rest.
In yonder Church-yard’s cheerless gloom.
We’ve laid him in his narrow bed,
While tear drops fell around his tomb,
In memory of the sacred dead.

JAMES WILLIAM CHISHOLM honor’d name,
By all rever’d, who knew him best:
Masonic Brethren may proclaim,
Their filial grief with aching breast,
His vacant, seat, ah! Who shall fill
So wisely as our friend hath done.
Your welfare was his object still,
Until his earthly race was run.

Full thirty years, with ardent zeal,
He mix’d amongst the Brotherhood,
And aim’d at every brother’s weal ,-
Still nobly for your cause he stood.
His birth-place was old Scotia’s shore,
That land he ever lov’d so well;
But when he join’d the Royal Corps.
To that dear land he bade farewell.

A faithful partner left her home,
Alike from friends and kindred dear,
To cross the Ocean’s billowy foam,
To far Canadian forest drear,
And there his joys and griefs to share;
And oft to lift his aching head,
To pour the balm of comfort there,
When none but strangers round his bed.

His manly soul would still disdain,
To shrink from contending foe;
As oft we cross’d the slippery plain,
Or sinking to the waist in snow.*
With noble fortitude he bore
Each keen distress with Christian mind;
But, in affliction would implore
Strength from on high to be resigned.

He saw one flow’ret droop and fade,
By the St. Lawrence’s mighty tide;
‘Tis there his own dear babe is laid,
‘Twas there his little Janet died.
Again he cross’d the Atlantic’s wave,
To sultry Indies’ feverish soil.
Where the emancipated slave
Beneath the lash no longer toil.

Where Orange blossoms scent the air,
And wafts sweet odours all around,
And flowers of deepest hues are there,
And birds of gayest plumage found.
Back to Canadian streams and lakes,
From sunny skies to snowy dells;
Once more the dreary voyage makes.
To hear again the tinkling bells.

But not to where his fathers sleep –
He never saw that spot again;
He thought of other lands the while,
To rest in his declining years.
And sought thy shores, fair Tasman’s isle,
Now witness of his widow’s tears.

Two daughters weep in weeds of woes,
Three sons now mourn a parent gone,
And friends a tear of grief bestow,
To honor the departed one;
And while we mourn our friend’s decease,
The generous, noble, and the kind,
He died, as he had lived, in peace,
We trust with God and all mankind.

J. NEVIN
Kangaroo Valley

*He served as Armorer in the Royal Regiment, with the Author, in the Canadian Rebellion of 1839, it was a very severe winter.

Download the rest of this poem here from TROVE NLA:
https://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article233621241
Weekly Times (Hobart Town, Tas. : 1863), Saturday 29 August 1863, page 6

“HOPE” 1863

More poems by John Nevin

On the death of daughter Rebecca 1866

My Cottage in the Wilderness by John Nevin 1868

On the death of William Genge 1881 by John Nevin