My family was once the richest in Sicily – and now I know why

The Yorkshire-born founder of the enterprise that enriched the Whitakers, arrived in 1806 and dominated Sicily’s commercial life. Through his liaison with the widowed Duchess of Santa Rosalia (there is no evidence that they ever married, apart from a somewhat dubious ceremony at the British Consulate), Ingham was admitted to the Sicilian aristocracy and by the mid-19th century Britain was the island’s main partner for both imports and exports.

But Ingham had no sons of his own. Although the Duchess had three, he did not want them near his business. Instead he turned to his Whitaker cousins ​​in Yorkshire. The eldest, William, died early of fever and it is said, probably apocryphally, that Ingham wrote to his sister: “Your son is dead. Send me another.” It was Joseph, who proved so tireless and meticulous that he eventually took over the running of the business, which became known as Ingham Whitaker.

Ingham built his own palace in Palermo, with the Church of the Holy Cross in the garden, but the was bought long ago, converted into the Grand Hotel et des Palmes and extended in all directions. Robert showed me a section of mirrored panelling that once concealed a tunnel to the Anglican church, the theory being that Ingham’s Duchess and her ladies could discreetly attend Protestant services without ruffling Catholic feathers. But the tunnel is now blocked and the garden has disappeared under one of the city’s busiest intersections.

It’s the same in Marsala. The mansion that Ingham built is dilapidated, propped up by scaffolding in the middle of the abandoned complex, or bagwhere once the Marsala wine with his name on the label was produced and prepared for export. Like neighboring bagliosit looks like a fortress, which emphasizes how unstable these areas used to be. When Garibaldi began his campaign to unify Italy, he landed in Marsala a stone’s throw from the wineries, although he promised to respect their neutrality.