Chapter XXIX: Banishment

The first news which reached England concerning Margaret was contained in a letter written by herself, by which it appears she had obtained a situation at the Orphan Asylum; and, as it will best explain her feelings and situation at that time, the reader shall be furnished with a copy of it. The sheet upon which it is written contains two letters; one to her mistress, directed to her master; the other to Dr. Stebbing.

"SYDNEY, Jan. 21st, 1802.

"HONOURED MADAM,

"With pleasure I cannot describe, I am permitted to take up my pen
and write to you, to acquaint you with my arrival in safety at Port
Jackson, Sydney, New South Wales, on December 20, 1801. As I left
the ship, and was about to be landed, the shore, as I approached
it, put me very much in mind of the Cliff on the banks of the river
Orwell. The houses, backed by the hills, so much resembled that
happy spot, that it put me in good spirits; and had I but seen your
smile to welcome me, I should have been happy indeed. But I thought
of you, of your prayers, your advice, your kindness and
consolation; and when I saw land so much like my own dear native
home, I really felt as if I was not entirely banished from old
England.

"Your advice relative to my conduct on board the convict-ship was
strictly followed; and every morning I prayed that I might keep it,
and every evening I thanked God for his help. I had much influence
with the female convicts who came out with me, and prevented many
murmurs and one outbreak among them. So that, you see, dear lady,
others reaped the benefit of your instructions as well as myself.

"Captain Sumpter gave me a good character to the governor; so that
I was not two days upon the stores, but was taken off them by Mr.
John Palmer, a gentleman of the highest respectability in the
colony. He came out as purser in the _Sirius_, with Captain Arthur
Phillip and Captain John Hunter, in January, 1787. Captain Phillip
was the first governor of this place. Mrs. Palmer is very kind to
me, and is as benevolent as yourself. She is a niece of a famous
physician in London, Sir William Blizzard; and she says, dear lady,
that she has heard her uncle speak of you. Only think that I should
be so fortunate as to find a good mistress, who had some knowledge
of you, even in this distant land! I feel this a great blessing.

"After the loss of the _Sirius_, on a reef off Norfolk Island, Mr.
and Mrs. Palmer undertook the management of the Female Orphan
Asylum. This institution was established by Governor King, who
purchased, for the residence of my master and mistress, the elegant
house in which they now live, of Lieutenant Kent, who returned to
England two years since in the _Buffalo_. He had built it entirely
at his own expense, but he found that the country did not agree
with him.

"You know, my dear lady, how fond I always was of children, and
here I have many cheerful young faces around me. We have already
sixty female children, who are taken as good care of as if they
were all one family belonging to Mrs. Palmer. So you see how
happily I am employed. Have I not reason to be thankful to God for
His great mercies to so unworthy a creature as myself? I know you
will rejoice to hear of my situation. You desired me to write
anything I could for your instruction. I wish my opportunities were
greater, that my letter might be more entertaining; but Mrs. Palmer
has afforded me some facilities, and I hope, when I write again, to
give you the benefit of them.

"This country is much more like England than I expected to find it.
Garden-stuff of all kinds, except gooseberries, and currants, and
apples, are abundant. The gardens, too, are remarkably beautiful;
the geraniums run up seven or eight feet in height, and look more
magnificent than those which I used to see in your own greenhouse.
The country is very woody, so that I cannot go out any distance
from Sydney without travelling through woods for miles. They are
many of them very picturesque, and quite alive with birds, of such
exquisite plumage that the eye is constantly dazzled by them.

"I assure you, my dear lady, that, in taking a ramble through them
with my mistress and some of the elder orphans, I felt just as I
imagine your own dear children used to feel when they walked with
me to the Grove near Hog Island, I was so pleased with the birds,
and trees, and flowers. I only wish I could send you one of the
beautiful parrots of this country, but I have no means of so doing
at present, as my money is all laid out for my future benefit. I
have no money given to me for wages. I have board and lodging; and,
if I conduct myself well, Mrs. Palmer says she will lay up a little
store against the day of my emancipation or my marriage. With
God's help, in whom I trust, I am determined to be independent of
all men. I have no desire to be married and settled, as some people
seem to say I shall be. I have no wish of the kind, neither do I
now nor do I hope to desire any better situation than that I now
enjoy, unless it were a return to England.

"I grieve to say, my dear lady, that this is one of the wickedest
places in the world. I never heard of one, excepting those of Sodom
and Gomorrah, which could come up to it in evil practices. People
are so bold, so shameless, and so sinful, that even crime is as
familiar as fashion in England. Religion is the last thing thought
of, even by the government, which sends out criminals that most
want it. The Rev. Mr. Johnson, who is almost the only clergyman in
the whole country, comes frequently to the Foundling Asylum; but he
tells my mistress that the town of Sydney is like a place of
demons. Government is at great expense in the police establishment,
to keep our poor bodies in subjection; but I am sure, if our souls
were but a little more thought of, government would find us ten
thousand times better subjects.

"Is it not dreadful, dear lady, that in such a country as this so
many souls should utterly perish? Surely it will never be blessed
with the blessing from Heaven, until God shall induce our
government to send us out some able ministers of the Gospel. I will
write more upon this subject at another time. I trust in God, who
has brought me over the broad sea, that He will keep me from all
evil upon this wide land.

"The wheat harvest was almost over when I landed. Wheat is here
eight shillings per bushel at this time. There are two crops, I
understand, each summer, one of wheat and another of Indian corn. I
am told that the winter is very short; I cannot give you any
certain information yet, as I have been only one month in the
country. This letter, for the same reason, will be but a poor one;
my next will, I hope, be more worthy your perusal. I will make
minutes, according to your wishes, of all things which come under
my observation. Never, never, my dearest lady, shall I forget your
goodness to me, and especially on the last day before I left
Ipswich.

"All the things you gave me arrived in safety with me, and are of
great service to me. Oh! how I wish that many poor creatures, whom
I see around me, had some of the blessings which I have! There are
some who have been here for years, who have their poor heads
shaved, and are sent up the Coal River. They have to carry coals
from daylight until dark. They are badly fed; and though very bad
men, who actually sell their rations of bread for three days for a
little rum, yet they ought not to be left without instruction, as
they totally are, until they perish.

"Norfolk Island is a terrible place to be sent to. Those only who
are incorrigible are sent to this place, with a steel collar round
their necks, to work in gangs.

"I have no government work to do; nor has the officer of government
anything to do with me. When there is a general muster of the
convicts, then only I shall have to appear, and give account of
myself. Some days I am permitted to go and see a friend at a
distance, if I have any, either at Paramatta, twenty miles, Gabley,
thirty, or Hawkesbury, forty miles from Sydney; but then I shall
have to get a passport, or I should be taken up, and put into
prison as a runaway. A very little will get a person into prison
here; but it requires a great deal of interest to get him out
again.

"I want to say a great deal more, but time will not permit me, for
I expect the ship to sail very soon, I have been very ill since I
came on shore. At one time I was thought to be dying; but by the
blessing of God and the attentions of my mistress, I am now strong
again. I was very well during my whole voyage, though we were
tossed about tremendously in the Bay of Biscay. I was very glad to
see land, after so many months' confinement; yet I should not mind
just such another voyage at this moment, if it were but to bring me
back again to dear old England. I cannot say yet that I like this
country, or that I think I ever shall; God only knows. The governor
has a great many very beautiful cows, and so has Mr. Palmer, who is
very partial to agricultural pursuits. There are a great many
horses at Sydney, and some very neat whiskeys and little
clay-carts. There are a great many passage-boats, but all numbered
and registered, and secured, lest the convicts should use them to
attempt their escape.

"Pray, my dear madam, let good Doctor Stebbing have the other side
of this sheet. I hope this will find you and all your good family
well. Pray, my dear lady, do not forget your promise of writing to
me by the first transport-ship that comes out; and direct to me at
Mr. Palmer's, Female Orphan Asylum, Sydney; and with deep love to
all my friends, I remain

"Your faithful servant,
"MARGARET CATCHPOLE."

The following is her letter to Dr. Stebbing, written on the same sheet of paper:--

"DEAR SIR,

"This is to acquaint you with our safe landing at Sydney, on the
20th of December, and that we all arrived in good health. Barker
bore the voyage the worst of the three, and was so terrified at the
sea that she could scarcely bear to look at it; and whenever it was
rough she would never be persuaded to come on deck. She used
frequently to cry out that she wished you were near her. She is
just the same as ever, now she is on land: I regret to say, no
better. Elizabeth Killet lives very near to me, and is very well.
She and I were both taken off the stores on the same day. We have
not to go to government work, as the horses do; but we have both
obtained respectable places, and I hope we shall continue in them.

"I am sorry to say that Barker has to spin for government, her
character not being such as to deserve a good report: she is still
upon the stores. But she can get her stint of work done by one
o'clock if she chooses to work hard at it, and then her time is her
own till six. Pray, sir, give my kind remembrance to all my
fellow-prisoners, and tell any of them that may be sentenced to
come out to this country not to be dead-hearted, as I was, about
Botany Bay; for if they are sent out, and will only conduct
themselves well, they will be better off than in prison.

"The greater part of this country is not yet explored; and if
inhabited, it is by natives of a very low caste and hideous
features. Those that I have already seen are of a very ferocious
aspect. They carry along with them spears of great length, made of
hard wood, and a sort of hatchet, made of bone, stone, or very hard
wood. They look half-starved, and have very long, lank visages,
most hideously distorted by various customs; such as knocking out a
front tooth to denote their arrival at manhood, painting their
brows, and putting quills through the cartilage which separates the
nostrils of their wide-distended noses.

"Their females, I am told, are in a very degraded condition, and
are generally stolen from other tribes, and brutally treated, being
beaten into immediate subjection by their husbands, who steal them.
The men seem to me a very subtle race. If they meet an unarmed
white man at a distance from home, they will spear and rob him.
They behave themselves well enough when they come into the town,
and visit, as they do sometimes, the Female Orphan Asylum, where I
live. If they did not they would soon be punished; still they are
very sly and treacherous, and can take up things with their long
toes as easily as we do the same with our hands.

"They often have a grand fight among themselves, either to gratify
their leader or to settle some dispute between the tribes. Twenty
or thirty join in the fight, whilst all the others look on, as if
it was only a game of play; but some of them are sure to be killed.
There is nothing said or done to them for killing each other in
this manner. What horrible barbarians they must be!

"The crops of wheat are very good in this country. Forty bushels
per acre are commonly grown; it is a very fertile place, and
fruitful in every respect. I will write more fully of the country
another time. Population increases rapidly. Some things, which we
cannot obtain, are very dear: tea is 25_s._ per pound; sugar,
2_s._; salt beef, 1_s._; and mutton, 2_s._ per pound. A pair of
shoes, 15_s._; 10_s._ a pair of stockings; 5_s._ for a yard of
common print; calico, 3_s._ per yard; soap, 3_s._ per pound;
onions, 6_d._ per pound; potatoes, 2_d._ per pound; a cabbage,
6_d._; rum, 5_s._ per bottle; a quart of porter, 2_s._ Fish is as
cheap as anything we can buy; but we have no money here to trade
with.

"Pray, my dear sir, remember me to Mrs. Ripshaw, and tell her that
one of Mr. Ripshaw's daughters, who lives up in the country here,
paid a visit to the Orphan Asylum last week. She asked me, when she
heard my voice, if I was not a Suffolk woman. This led to my
knowledge of her being the daughter of Mr. Ripshaw's first wife.
Pray, write to me as soon as you can. I shall never forget your
goodness to me, from the day I rode the pony to your door till the
day I left Ipswich. I shall never forget your dear daughter, so
clever, so kind to every one. Remember me to your faithful servant,
who was such a friend to me, and give my duty to all inquiring
friends. We had not a single death in our ship, though we had near
two hundred females on board.

"Just as I am writing this a messenger has come flying into the
town to say that the Blacks have killed eight men, women, and
children. One man's arms they have cut, and broke his bones, and
have done the same by his legs up to his knees. The poor fellow is
just now carried past to the hospital, but he looked more dead than
alive, and death would be a blessing to him. The governor has sent
out troops after them, with orders to shoot all they can find. I
hope I may be able to give you a better account of the natives when
I write again. Pray send me word if you know where Dinah Parker
and her child were sent to. Give my love to my uncle and aunt
Leader. My brother Edward should not have deserted me; I always
loved him affectionately. God bless you, dear doctor, and direct
your letter to me at Mr. John Palmer's, Female Orphan Asylum,
Sydney; and ever think of me as your faithful and humble servant,

"MARGARET CATCHPOLE.

"To JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich.
"Favoured by CAPTAIN SUMPTER."

By her good conduct in her new situation as cook and superintendent over the dairy of Mr. John Palmer, she was found to be a very useful and confidential person, and was soon looked upon as likely to be a very valuable wife for a free settler. Her fondness for children, and her management of them, came under the particular notice of Mrs. Palmer, who, without any family of her own, had from the most humane and benevolent motives undertaken the entire management of the Orphan Asylum. She found Margaret as willing and as well qualified an assistant as she could wish for.

This school was founded in the year 1800, by Governor King. It was for sixty female orphans. A grant of 15,000 acres of land was given to this foundation for the maintenance and support of the children. They were to be educated usefully and respectably, brought up to industrious habits, and to receive the best religious instruction which could be obtained for them. Few things in Sydney gave such general satisfaction as this benevolent institution; few things at that period more tended to the amelioration of the conduct of those who, from being the offscourings of such a densely-peopled country as England, were of course so deeply depraved as to be very difficult to recover from their evil habits. Destitute female children were taken into this establishment. A portion was given to each one brought up in this place of 100 acres of land, on her marriage-day, provided she married a free settler, and was herself a good character. This was a great inducement for the elder ones to set a good example, as well as to induce young free men to be approved of by the governor as worthy to receive so great a boon. Hence, in later days, have arisen many sterling characters in the neighbourhood of Sydney.

In this benevolent arrangement, the governor was mainly prompted and assisted by a free settler, who had been eight years in the colony, and was one of the first who arrived in the _Bellona_ transport, in 1793, and settled upon a spot then called Liberty Plains. This was no other than the reader's friend, and we hope his favourite, John Barry, whose steady and upright character was observed by the governor; he was taken into his confidence, and was a most admirable pattern for all settlers. For his strict integrity and early business habits, he was chosen as the great government agent for the distribution of lands; and he it was who suggested to Governor King the plan of forming this Orphan Establishment. In the sale of every 180 acres to free settlers, this gentleman was allowed a certain percentage, which in a short time realized to him a considerable property, in addition to that which he had already acquired.

John Barry was also the first to propose, and to assist with his wealth, the building of the first church, that of St. John's, at Sydney. He often lamented that government would not make a noble grant of land for church purposes, and in that early day he tried hard for a public grant for the Church of England, and mourned over the supineness of colonial legislation upon such a vital subject. Had this good man lived but to see the arrival of a British Bishop of Australia, it would have added one more joy to the many which his good conduct provided for him; indeed, he always said that such would be the case. Mr. Barry had a very handsome house at Windsor, on the green hills of Hawkesbury; also a fine estate, consisting of the most extensive pastures and the finest corn district in the whole region.

John Barry had kept his solemn word with Margaret, and had never entered into any matrimonial alliance, though he was looked upon as the most eligible match in the whole colony.

And this was the person formerly known to the reader as Jack Barry, the young farming lad, the son of the miller at Levington Creek, on the River Orwell. With small means, good introductions, steady conduct, and active habits, this youth rose from the day he purchased his first hundred acres in the colony until the day of his death. Two of his sisters had gone out to him before Margaret's committal to prison for any offence, and all that they could tell him of her was that she was at service at the Cliff at Ipswich, and that Laud was in the British navy. This gave him unfeigned pleasure, though it did not permit him to hope that he should ever see Margaret.

Had he been certified of Laud's death, there is little doubt that he would have returned to England. But his own family, in their correspondence with him, never mentioned either one or the other person.

Indeed, after Margaret became so notorious in the county of Suffolk, they never named her to him, or sent him the papers which mentioned any word concerning her. He very seldom named her to his sisters. He knew nothing of her career, and she had actually been living some years within a short distance of his own residence in Australia, without his either seeing or hearing anything of her. In her most confidential communications with Mrs. Palmer, she had never mentioned his name, or an explanation must have taken place. She had the narrowest chance of meeting him in July, 1803, when Mr. Barry came to inspect the Asylum. A day only before he came, Margaret had been sent to a free settler's, a relation of Mrs. Palmer's, who had the misfortune to lose his wife, and being left with two very small children, he wanted a person like Margaret to take care of them, and to superintend his domestic concerns. Mrs. Palmer consented to let Margaret go, if she would, at least for a time, until her relative could meet with an eligible person. This gentleman's name was Poinder, and his house was at Richmond Hill. Margaret did not raise any objection, though all felt sorry to part with her from the Asylum; she went to oblige her mistress, and received a handsome present from her at parting.

The first money which this faithful creature received was devoted to the purchase of many curious things for her dear mistress in England. These she treasured up, anticipating the pleasure of forwarding them from Sydney, when she had obtained sufficient to fill a chest.

Though many letters and presents had been sent from her friends in England, it would appear by a letter to her uncle Leader, dated December 20, 1804, that she never received any of them. That uncle conveyed her letter to Mrs. Cobbold, who took a copy of it, from which it is here transcribed. Three years had passed away since the date of her first letter, and the poor creature had been vexed greatly at the non-arrival of any tidings from her friends.

"SYDNEY, December 20th, 1804.

"MY DEAR UNCLE AND AUNT,

"With great pleasure I once more take up my pen to write to you,
and all your dear children, as well as all inquiring friends,
hoping that they may all be in as good health as I am at the time
this letter leaves this country. I bless God, dear uncle, for his
past and present mercies towards me, which have been and are very
great. I am as young as I ever was; indeed I may say that I am in
spirit, if not in body, younger, freer, and happier, than I ever
was at any former period of my life. I should be almost ready to
jump over St. John's Church, which is the first church built in
this country, if I could only hear from you, or some of my dear
friends in England. You may well suppose how overjoyed I should be
to snatch up any tidings of any of you.

"I cannot think why I have not heard from some of you. England is,
I know, in a very disturbed state and engaged in a maritime war.
This is the fourth time I have written. I sent a letter by Captain
Sumpter, on the return of the vessel I came by; my next I sent by
the _Glutton_, and my next by the _Calcutta_. I did hope that I
should have received a letter before this time. My anxieties have
been so great as almost to make me go out of my mind; for I see so
many letters arriving from London, but none for poor me. I should
be unhappy indeed if I thought that no friends in England cared for
me.

"I am so grieved and disappointed that my dearly loved mistress has
not written to me once since we parted! I cannot bring myself to
believe that if she is alive, and is able, she has not already done
so. I fear that some accident has occurred to the ship by which she
has written to me, and that she is waiting for some reply. Do not
neglect me this time, dear uncle, for it makes me very unhappy to
think that I cannot hear from you, or any of my friends in England.

"I am in great hopes that, if I continue in the same state that I
am now in, and, if it please God, have the same approbation of my
employers, who are high in the governor's favour, I shall have the
unspeakable joy of seeing you all again. The thought of such a
blessing makes my hand tremble, and the tears run down my cheeks so
fast, I cannot see the end of my pen. Governor King is a very good
man; he is very merciful to those who deserve it, even to those who
are, as I am, transported for life. There are many who have been
granted their free pardon with power to settle in the colony. Some
who have distinguished themselves by exemplary conduct, and have
rendered public service to the settlement, not only receive their
free pardon, but are permitted to return, if they wish it, to their
native land. The anticipation of such an event would prompt me to
any service.

"The young man who brings this letter to England was transported
for life. He was in the governor's service, and discovered a
robbery of the government stores, for which he has received a full
and free pardon. He lived one year at John Palmer's, Esq., where I
have been living; his name is William Underwood. He was very much
approved while in my master's service, and was taken thence into
the governor's establishment. He is a good young man, and was
betrayed into a crime by a butler, who employed him to rob his
master, in London. He promises to convey this letter to England,
and to post it for you, so that I do hope this will certainly come
to hand.

"I have left Mrs. Palmer's service for a time, at her own
particular request, and am now living as housekeeper to a young
friend of hers, who married her niece. He is a free settler. His
wife was a very sickly lady, and had, since she resided in this
spot, fallen into a rapid decline; indeed she was in a poor state
of health during her sea-voyage. She was a good and amiable lady,
and her loss is a great misfortune to the young man, and much
sorrow to my dear Mrs. Palmer.

"The free settlers are the great farmers of this country; they have
one hundred acres of land as a grant, with power to purchase as
many more as they can; they have to clear away the woods, and burn
up the stumps, before they can grow corn, though the swine thrive
well in the thick bush. We begin to set wheat in March or April,
and the harvest comes on in November; and as soon as that is
cleared off, they set fire to the stubble, and burn it on the land,
and then put in fresh corn directly. They do not plough it, but
dibble the corn in without cleaning it, as the burning straw
destroys the roots of all the weeds.

"In clearing new land, it is broken up by men with very large hoes,
and it is the hardest work that is done in the country. A great
price is paid for this labour, and men work too hard at it. They
frequently destroy their health and their lives, by their
over-exertion to get rich enough to buy farms for themselves. This
has been done by some robust men, but others fall a prey to the
toil.

"This is a very dangerous country at present to settle in. The
natives, who are almost black, wear no covering, but go, most of
them, in a state of nudity. They paint their bodies with a
light-coloured ochre, marking out the ribs and bones so strongly,
that at a little distance in the shade they look like so many
moving skeletons. They are a most miserable, half-starved race of
men, but very active, very treacherous, and very bold. They seem to
have no shame. They used to bear a deadly hatred to the white
people; and if all I hear be true of some of the dealings of our
colonists with these poor wretches, I am not surprised at it.

"They are much more reconciled to us than they were, and actually
send some of their young children to be instructed in our schools.
I do not think, however, that the race will ever amalgamate with
our own, it appears such an inferior and unsettled one. As we
advance our settlers towards the Blue Mountains, these people will
recede from us, and being divided into many tribes hostile to each
other, will never be able to unite their forces against us.

"This country is full of curious animals. I have already collected
some skins for my dear mistress at the Cliff. I never get a fresh
one without blessing her name, and hoping that, poor as I am, I may
yet give her some little pleasure.

"Among the snakes, few are venomous. I have seen but one, which I
am told is a very dangerous foe. Him I had a personal conflict
with, and thank God I came off victorious. I was walking with two
young children of my master's, not very far from the newly-enclosed
lands. The children were a few yards in advance of me, gathering
flowers for me, when a large black snake flew at me from the foot
of a tree, just as if it had been a dog. I had nothing in my hand
but a thin stick which I had broken off one of the fresh shoots of
a stump of a tree, which had been cut down the last winter; but I
was afterwards told that it was the very best weapon of defence
that I could have. He rose upon his tail, and darted at my face,
as if he aimed at my eyes; but just as he came within reach, I gave
him a cut over a white line at the back of his neck, which
attracted my attention; he made a beautiful curve, like the bending
of a fountain, when it has reached its height, and then fell in a
straight stiff line, licking the dust.

"It was providential that I hit him where I did, for my master told
me it was the only place that I could have killed him on so
suddenly. He told me that he was the most venomous snake in the
country, and that, had I not broken his neck as I did, either the
children or myself would have been killed. His bite is attended
with swelling and blackness of the body, and when the sun goes down
death ensues. How merciful that the dear children had passed by him
without provoking an attack! The whole of that night I did nothing
but lie and think of this event, and thank God for my deliverance.

"Some of the snakes which I have seen are full twelve feet long,
and thicker than a stout man's arm. These are not venomous, but
they would soon strangle a child. Some of our workmen have had
severe encounters with them.

"I have collected a good many curiosities of this country, and have
skinned the birds and smaller animals myself, and preserved their
skins, as dear Doctor Stebbing directed me; and if I can once get a
letter from England to assure me that I live in the memory of my
friends, I will soon pack them off to my good and learned mistress.
People laugh at me sometimes for giving the value of a quarter of
an acre of land for the skin of a dead animal; but they know not
the pleasure I derive from the joy of pleasing those I love.

"Give my love to my aunt and the dear children, and for their
sakes, as well as my own, let them see this long letter. It may
teach them to be very thankful to God; then they will bless poor
Margaret, their foster-mother, and feel glad that they are so
beloved by one so far away from them.

"This is a very hot country. In the summer, the ground actually
scorches the feet whilst we walk upon it, and creates great
blisters, especially where shoe-leather, which is very scarce and
dear, does not protect the feet. In winter it is very cold. Not
that there is any quantity of snow, but there are very white
frosts, which penetrate to the inmost recesses of our chambers. It
is much colder and hotter than it used to be, since the country is
cleared of its shady woods, and is so much more open. It will be a
very populous and improving country. Even within a year or two, the
people seem to be more moral and domesticated than they were; but
it is a terrible place for drunkards.

"We want British clergymen; good men of real steady principles,
such as you have in England. The governor orders the Bible to be
read at stated times to the different gangs of convicts; but then
it is a convict who can read better than the rest, and they make a
joke of him! Oh! what a sin it is that so little provision should
be made for that which would be the surest way to reform the
convicts, and to preserve their souls alive! I pray continually for
friends to help us.

"The trees grow very fast in this country. A few pear-trees and
apple-trees are getting up, and the vine flourishes wherever it is
planted. The oak grows luxuriantly; peaches and apricots thrive;
but gooseberries and currants do not seem to suit the soil. Money
is very scarce. Copper coins are almost the value of silver, and
gold is a thing that I seldom see. Those who trade with India or
China are the only people in the colony who use it. Tea is dearer
here than it is in Old England, though we are so much nearer to the
countries where it is grown. It is a matter of luxurious indulgence
which convicts and servants do not at present enjoy. The native
flax of Norfolk Island is the finest which we can obtain. You must
not suppose that we are badly off, though some commodities may be
very dear; for this country will be, if the world stand, one of the
richest on the face of the earth: oh that it may be one of the
best! At present it is one of the worst, though improving.

"Sarah, or, as she calls herself, Elizabeth Barker, and Elizabeth
Killet, are both living. One is doing well; I regret to state the
other does badly.

"If the young man who brings this should write to you from London,
send an answer to him directly. He intends to return and settle
here. He is a good young man. Singularly enough, he returns to
England to gratify his aged parents with a sight of himself, and
intends to try and persuade one of his female cousins to come out
with him.

"Pray go to my dear Mrs. Cobbold, and tell her I long to hear of
her and her family. The same of Dr. Stebbing. Be sure and direct
your letters for me at Mrs. Palmer's Orphan Asylum, Port Jackson,
Sydney. Let all your letters be left at Government House. Mrs.
Palmer will take care of any letters for me. Pray God bless and
keep you all, is the constant prayer of

"Your affectionate niece,
"MARGARET CATCHPOLE.

"To MR. WILLIAM LEADER,
"Brandiston, near Woodbridge, Suffolk,
"England."

By her next letter it appears that Margaret was housekeeper to a young widower. After living there about one year, her principles were put to a trial, under which any less firm and stable than hers would have succumbed. The young widower, finding what a valuable person Margaret was, resolved to marry her. He did not think it at all necessary to pay court to one who he thought would feel herself honoured by the proposal; and as he fully intended to make her the mistress of his establishment, he at once said to her--

"Young woman, I am resolved to marry you, and make you mistress of my house at Richmond Hill. You need not trouble yourself to make any preparations. I will see the Rev. Mr. Johnson, the chaplain, and to-morrow you shall be mistress of my establishment."

Startled as Margaret was by this wholly unexpected offer, and by the terms in which it was couched, she hesitated not a moment in her reply.

"I have no intention, sir, whatever," said she, "to marry any one, but most certainly should not think of marrying you. I was sent here by your relative, Mrs. Palmer, in the capacity of your servant, and I am willing to fulfil the duties of that situation; but I should act with great duplicity towards my mistress, if, without either yourself or me holding any conversation with her upon the subject, I were to marry you. But, to be candid with you at once, sir, I tell you I have no intention to marry, and I will not comply with your demands in this respect."

As may be supposed, the young man was not a little astonished; but all he said was--

"Then, if you do not, you may go back to Mrs. Palmer, and say I sent you."

This was quite enough for Margaret, who immediately packed up her few treasures, and started off for Sydney; and her kind friend, Mrs. Palmer, who was equally astonished and pleased at her conduct, received her again in a more confidential capacity.

One thing poor Margaret had deeply to regret about this time, and it occasioned her many tears of unaffected sorrow. She had, with persevering care, and at serious cost, collected a great many curiosities, seeds of plants, shells, fossils, minerals, skins of birds and lesser animals, all which she had treasured up with the most lively hope that they would one day reach her dear mistress in England. She packed them in a strong box, and paid a man to carry them for her to Mrs. Palmer's, at Sydney; but they never arrived. The man to whom they had been entrusted broke open the box, sold the contents to a settler, and invented a plausible tale of his being robbed by some bushmen.

The name of the gentleman who made Margaret the offer of marriage, above referred to, was Mr. John Poinder. He died about two years afterwards, but left his aunt, Mrs. Palmer, sole executrix of his property, and commended his children to her care. Margaret then returned to Richmond Hill, to superintend the affairs of the house and the management of the children, until they should be sent to school.

It may be here mentioned as one of those singular coincidences to which Margaret Catchpole's life had been subjected, that not only on this occasion of her absence from the Asylum, but on the only other occasion that she had ever been absent from it, Mr. John Barry visited the institution, stayed there some time, and left it, without receiving the smallest intimation that it was, or had been, the residence of the woman on whom his affections had been fixed from the first moment he beheld her, and had never swerved up to the period of which we write; and the subsequent events which we have to record render this coincidence still more remarkable.