The History of Margaret Catchpole Part 22

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, antic.i.p.ating 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 pa.s.sed 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 G.o.d, 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 s.n.a.t.c.h 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 s.h.i.+p 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 G.o.d, 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 antic.i.p.ation 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sed by him without provoking an attack! The whole of that night I did nothing but lie and think of this event, and thank G.o.d 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 a.s.sure 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 G.o.d; 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 quant.i.ty 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 G.o.d 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 succ.u.mbed. 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, sh.e.l.ls, 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 inst.i.tution, 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.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

REPENTANCE AND AMENDMENT.

Before Margaret left Sydney the second time for Richmond Hill, she had the inexpressible delight of receiving a s.h.i.+p-chest from England, containing letters and presents from her beloved mistress and friends. The good Mrs. Palmer was requested to be present at the opening of the chest; and never, never did the eager school-boy unpack his parcel from home with more intense delight than this poor young woman did the box from England.

But her first interest was directed towards the packet of letters which the box contained; and, until she had devoured the contents of them, all else was a matter of comparative indifference to her. There were letters from her uncle and aunt Leader, from Dr. Stebbing, from several of her fellow-servants at the Cliff; but above all, in Margaret's estimation, there were letters from her dear mistress--the excellent lady of the Cliff--to whose kindness she owed and felt such lasting grat.i.tude.

The reader need not be troubled with a description of the numerous articles of wearing apparel which the box contained; nor is it needful to do more than mention that, besides the larger objects, there was an inner case, containing combs, thimbles, needles, netting needles and pins, knitting needles, pins, threads, papers of Dutch tape, of Indian cotton, of coa.r.s.e threads, pincus.h.i.+ons, scissors, knives, and all sorts of those stores which are so precious to a housewife, when at a distance from the ordinary sources where they are to be procured.

Poor Margaret could neither eat nor drink till she had devoured the contents of her letters. She wept so much during their perusal, that she was forced to ask Mrs. Palmer to read them to her. This she did with most sincere pleasure, for they afforded her own good heart instruction as well as gratification. The letters written to Margaret were such as would have gratified any intellectual and benevolent mind. They were much admired by all who read them, but by none more than by the faithful creature to whom they were directed.

The following letter was addressed by Margaret Catchpole to Mrs. Cobbold, shortly after the receipt of the box of treasures just alluded to:-- "October 18th, 1807.

"HONOURED MADAM, "With the purest pleasure I again seize an opportunity to write to you. I feel it my duty to do so, as you are my dearest friend upon earth. Sincerely do I thank G.o.d for your health and happiness, and for that of all your good family. I hope and trust in G.o.d that I shall soon hear from you again, for it is my greatest comfort in this distant land. Oh, my dear lady, how grieved I am to tell you that there are so many depraved creatures in this country! I have been robbed of all my collection of curiosities, which I had been saving up, according to your wishes, and which I intended to have sent you by the next s.h.i.+p. I am sure you would have thought them valuable, as they were all so perfect, and the birds in such good order, skinned, and dried, and perfumed. I will endeavour to collect them again; but I am so sorry, when I had collected so many, and had such great pleasure in them, that I should lose them all through the artful conduct of wicked men!

"But I will soon be at work again for you. I have no greater joy than to be waiting upon you; and everything I get, which I think will be valuable to you, gives me increased satisfaction. You can scarcely believe what happiness I experience in devoting any portion of my time to your service. You are never out of my thoughts, and always in my prayers. My ideas turn toward you from every place, and in almost everything I see. When I think of the troubles and trials you must have, with eighteen children around you, I wonder you can at all think of me. But, dear lady, I do feel such an interest about you and your family, that I am thankful whenever you name any of them; and I was so delighted with your description of them all! Always tell me about them. I sincerely desire to know how Miss Anne is, and Miss Harriet, and Miss Sophia.

"Have you any knowledge, my dear lady, of Governor Bligh? Alas! I have lost a good friend in Governor King. I do think that if a pet.i.tion were presented to him in my behalf, so well known as I am to the late governor, something might be done for me. Every one tells me that he says my conduct has been so uniformly consistent and good that I deserve a reward. But it requires friends near the fountain of mercy to make its stream flow towards such as I. I should be almost ready to die with joy if a pardon were to come to me, with permission to return to England. I would then gladly come, and live and die in your service.

"Since I last wrote to you, I have been living again with Mrs. Palmer. I sent you, by the s.h.i.+p Buffalo, a small case, containing the skins of the rarest birds found in this country, together with an opossum, of a dark colour, and very fierce; also a species of rat, which very much resembles a diminutive hyena. You will find two large, magnificent birds, called here the mountain pheasant; they are only like our English bird in size. The plume of feathers in the tail of the c.o.c.k bird would form the most graceful ornament for a queen's head-dress. Two n.o.ble feathers, somewhat like a peac.o.c.k's, only more brilliant and various in their colours, surrounded by the most glittering silver lines of curving feathers, fine as the prairie gra.s.s, and sparkling like the waves of the ocean, ornament the tail of the male bird, whilst the female is only remarkable for the elegance of her shape, and not for the beauty of her plumage.

"In my opinion, this bird is the peafowl of this country, and not a pheasant. Early in the morning, I have seen him spring from the thickest brushwood, and wing his arrow-like flight to the tallest tree, and there he appears to mimic the notes of the various songsters around him. But the most beautiful att.i.tude that I once saw him in beats everything I ever beheld of what men term politeness. I have heard and have read of delicate attentions paid to our s.e.x by men of n.o.ble and generous dispositions; but I scarcely ever heard of such devoted attention as I one day witnessed in this n.o.ble bird towards his mate. I saw her sitting in the heat of the meridian sun upon her nest, and the c.o.c.k bird seated near her, with his tail expanded, like a bower overshadowing her; and, as the sun moved, so did he turn his elegant parasol to guard her from his rays. Now and then he turned his bright eye to see if she was comfortable, and she answered his inquiry with a gentle note and rustle of her feathers.

"Was not this a sight calculated to teach us all gentleness? Dear lady, as I looked upon it, the tears came warmly down my cheeks, as I thought of your good husband and yourself; and I dreamed of your writing a poem upon this subject, and reading it to the young ladies in the school-room. I had often wondered what use the tail of this bird could be to him. If this be one of its general uses, surely it is truly ornamental and useful. I hope these birds will come safe to hand. Captain Brooks of the Buffalo, promised me faithfully that he would himself forward them into Suffolk. The thought that they may reach you and give you pleasure will make me happy for many a long day. Owing to the late floods, every thing is become very dear: pork, 2s.; beef and mutton, 2s. 3d.; soft sugar, 6s. and 8s.; tea, 1 10s. per pound; a bushel of wheat, 1 5s.; printed cotton, 10s. to 12s. per yard; shoes, for females, 13s. per pair. Scarcely any linen cloth to be had. Newspapers, of any date, 1s. a-piece.

"But your chest, just now arrived, contains so many things of value, that my good Mrs. Palmer has at once proposed that I should at once open a little shop at Richmond Hill. I wrote word, in my uncle's letter, or in my last to you, about my offer of marriage, but the gentleman is since dead, and has left his property to the management of Mrs. Palmer. She says I shall have a cottage of my own, with land attached to it, and begin business for myself. You know not, dear lady, how valuable all those things are which you have sent to me. But your letters, and those of Mrs. Sleorgin--oh, what a comfort they have been to me!

"I had been very ill before their arrival. About eight months ago, I took a long journey, for Mrs. Palmer, to arrange something about Mr. Poinder's children. I walked a distance of thirty miles, and over-exerted and heated myself very much, so that my body threw out large blisters, just as if I had been burnt with small coals, and I was so swelled out that I thought I should have lost my life. I was under the care of a Mr. Mason, a very clever surgeon; and Mrs. Palmer was very kind and attentive to me. Blessing be to G.o.d! I recovered; but I am still very subject to cold and inflammation. I am not permitted to go near the fire.

"I am to go to Richmond Hill as soon as I can, which will be very soon. I will write to you again when I am settled there. Only let me thank you, as I ought, for your great goodness to one so unworthy of it. If I should prosper, so as to get enough to keep myself from starving in my old days, how shall I bless G.o.d for raising me up such a friend as you have been to me!

"Mrs. Palmer says she is very sorry to part with me, but she wishes to serve me. She is so good to me! She was so pleased to find I was so respected by such friends as the ladies who wrote to me. She said she never read such beautiful letters as yours and good Mrs. Sleorgin's, and asked me to let her take a copy of them. She had a great desire to publish them in the Sydney paper, as she thought they would do so much good to others as well as to myself. She blessed your spirit, and desired me to say, that she considered me worthy of all the favour which your generous hand had bestowed upon me. This was her saying; but it is not my opinion, though I may say I wish I was worthy. She desired me to say, that if you should see Sir William Blizzard, a physician in London, he would tell you all about her. She has promised to do all she can to obtain my restoration to society. If I could once return to my own native land, what a happy woman I should be! You add much to my comfort here; for whenever I have a few moments' spare time, I am sure to be seeking for seeds, sh.e.l.ls, insects, or curiosities of any kind; and the thought of whom I am serving makes me feel very happy. Thank G.o.d! I keep myself free from all men. I have formed no acquaintance with any man; and I may sincerely confess to you, my dear lady, that my early attachment and deep-felt disappointment have deadened the feelings of my heart to any further matrimonial speculations. I do not think that any man in the colony could persuade me to marry. My dear Mrs. Palmer has often spoken to me on the subject, and I have never concealed the fact, that to my first attachment I owe my present abode in this colony as a convict. I am wise enough now to see my own follies, and I pray to G.o.d for His forgiveness. In this colony there are few that remain single from choice, old or young. Girls of fifteen years become mothers before they are able to take care of themselves; and I may state it as a curious fact, that very many whom you would suppose too old to be mothers, have young families increasing around them.

"Vegetation in this clime is very abundant; but there are some fearful drawbacks to our reaping its fruits. We may have a good crop of grain on the ground to-day, and to-morrow it may be all cut down by a hail-storm, or destroyed by a blight, or swept away by a flood. On Monday last, the 16th of this month, a hail-storm pa.s.sed over this place, and cut down the wheat just as it was in full blossom. The stones which fell from the clouds were as big as pigeons' eggs, and you may imagine the mischief which ensued. Great numbers of fowls and small cattle were killed. The harvest will be about six weeks hence, and will be a lamentably deficient crop. Now begins our hot season. We dread the attacks of ophthalmia, as the surgeons call it; we call it commonly the blight in our eyes. We can find no remedy for it but patience. In one day our eyelids are so swelled that we cannot see. With some it lasts a week, with others a month, according to the state of the const.i.tution of the sufferer. It is a very irritating and painful disease, and none are such dreadful sufferers as those who most deserve it, the habitual drunkards, of which cla.s.s I regret to state there are too many in this country.

"The natives are much more tractable than they used to be, and not so savage and uncivilized. They will work but little; I can get from them, however, the most rare skins of wild animals, such as the settlers have not patience to pursue. They boast that the white man is made for drudgery, and the black for liberty. He can roam through his native woods and subsist without labour, whilst he supposes that we enjoy no freedom. They have not left off their barbarous habit of fighting and killing each other for a public exhibition. I remember that you used to make the young ladies read of the tournaments in the reign of Elizabeth, and how the knights sometimes killed each other in this way. Surely those ancestors of the English had some such spirit as these free blacks of Australia in this day. These people form a stately circle, and contend most skilfully and magnanimously, by fixed and settled rules of combat; and I a.s.sure you, dear lady, that their deportment, at such times, would be no discredit to the most gallant knights of Europe. Gallantry towards their females, however, is at a very low ebb; yet, for the honour of the s.e.x, they take no delight in these pageants of blood and murder. In this respect, degraded as they are in other things, they are not so bad as some were in the ages of chivalry.

"It will not much interest you to know of our farming here, but some of your friends may like to hear a word about it, though from such an ignorant being as myself. The price of farming stock is very high: a sow sells for 10; a ewe for 7; a milch-goat, 3 10s.; a cow from 60 to 70; a good horse from 100 to 150. But things will not continue in this state many years, for this is a most prolific land. You will be more glad to hear of our great variety of botanical plants. My good lady, Mrs. Palmer, has promised that her friend, Mr. Mason, who is a good botanist, shall affix the proper names to each of the specimens which I send.

"Honoured madam, give my duty to Mrs. Sleorgin, and say how happy I am to hear from her, and am glad that she approves of my conduct and pursuits. I love her good advice, and endeavour to keep it. I am so sorry that I was robbed of all my first treasures for you. My tears, however, would not bring them back again. I will try again. Give my duty to dear Doctor Stebbing. Oh that I could see him with his dog and gun, upon some of our plains, or beating in the bush of this country! I would get him to kill me many a beautiful bird to enrich your collection. Give my duty to his daughter. Is poor old Robinson Crusoe alive? and is Jack Whatcheer? Alas! their memory brings back painful recollections. So, my dear lady, hoping to hear from you again, accept the love and duty of your humble and constant servant, "MARGARET CATCHPOLE.

"To J. COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich."

From this letter it appears that Margaret was then upon the eve of leaving Sydney for her cottage at Richmond Hill, some forty or fifty miles up the country. There were a small village and store-rooms on the banks of the river, and Margaret rented a small house and about twenty acres of land of her friend Mrs. Palmer, at a very moderate price. Part of her house was formed into a shop, in which all her little stock in trade was placed and her little capital invested. The goods which were sent her from England formed a valuable a.s.sortment; and she began by offering for sale small portions of her general stock, so that her customers might have the same articles upon another application. Her house was situated in a very beautiful spot, commanding an extensive view over a well-watered plain, with the ever-blue mountains in the distance.

Margaret remained at Richmond Hill, as her own independent mistress, for five years. About two years after her residence at this place she wrote again to her mistress, and sent a small drawing of her cottage, which was taken by one of Mrs. Palmer's friends for this very purpose.

The mountain pheasants, which she speaks of in the following letter, duly arrived by the Buffalo. They were splendid specimens, and were in a very perfect state. They were preserved in the author's family for many years, and may now be seen at the public museum at Ipswich, in company with many thousands of valuable specimens. The bird itself is now become very scarce. A live specimen has never been brought to England.[11]

"RICHMOND HILL, Oct. 8th, 1809.

"HONOURED MADAM, "I take up my pen again with new and increased delight, to say that I duly received another box from you, which arrived at Sydney with everything in it, according to the inventory, quite safe. A thousand thanks for it, my dear lady, and all its valuable contents. It was three years last June since I sent you, according to your request, a number of our native productions. I had a cedar case made on purpose, strong and stoutly ironed. I was told that it would preserve the goods in a more perfect state than an oaken one; but as you say nothing about its arrival in your letter, I fear that it is lost.

"I sent it on board the Buffalo, the s.h.i.+p in which Governor King left the colony. It may, perhaps, yet reach you. I hope it will. There were many of our Sydney newspapers in it, and a host of birds' skins, weapons and knives, and curiosities, which I obtained from the natives near the Blue Mountains. I can see a great part of the chain from my chamber-window. Mrs. Palmer undertook to see the case forwarded to you.

"This is the second great collection I have made for you; and I shall not, dear lady, forward any more until I hear of the safe arrival of the last, it is so very disheartening to find all my labour and love thrown away. Oh! how I wish that I could be permitted to bring a cargo home for you! I would part with everything I have most gladly for such a purpose, but I fear it will never be; and sometimes my poor heart feels broken, as I sit alone, pondering over all my hope and fears.

"My dear landlady, Mrs. Palmer, has given me such a nice drawing of my cottage and the surrounding country for you! I shall send it; and I hope you will not think me presumptuous if I ask for one of the dear, dear Cliff, as I know, my dear lady, that you can so easily do one for me. If one of the young ladies would be so kind as to copy it, then I could give Mrs. Palmer one by way of return. Yours shall hang over my chimney-place; and when I look at it I shall think of those happy days which I spent there with you for my friend and mistress.

"Ah! dear lady, when I was learning so many good lessons under your eye, little did I think that I should reap the profit thereof in a foreign land. Your word of approbation was a sort of foretaste of that which, I hope and trust, we shall both rejoice to hear, 'Well done, good and faithful servant!'

"Dear lady, I am very contented, and am getting on well, but we have all had severe misfortune in this district: first, by the floods; secondly, by fire; and thirdly, by such a hurricane as levelled whole acres of timber-trees of enormous size. We were afraid to remain indoors lest our houses should fall on our heads; and out of doors we could hardly stand at all. Great trees swept by us as if they had been straws.

"The flood in the month of May distressed us very much; but that on the 31st of July and the 1st of August, the days after the high wind, was dreadful. It was the greatest ever experienced by any of the settlers, though the natives speak of one which covered all the plain from the mountains, and was deeper than our church is high. The one I have so lately witnessed went over the tops of the houses on the plain; and many poor creatures were on their chimneys crying out for mercy, and for boats to go to them. It was shocking to hear their cries, and it made me feel so wretched at not being able to relieve them. It was very dangerous to approach them, for sometimes the eddies were so strong round their houses that boats were swept away, or swamped in the attempt. I saw one boat completely sunk by a tree falling upon it, just as it was pa.s.sing; and had not another boat been near to take the sufferers off the boughs upon which they had climbed, they must all have perished.

"One man, of the name of Thomas Lacey, and his wife and family, were carried away in a barn. They got upon the mow, and broke a hole through the thatch. I saw them, dear creatures, holding up their hands to heaven as they pa.s.sed us on the sweeping flood, and imploring our help. It made my spirit rise within me; and I thought how G.o.d had made me instrumental in saving life in former days, and I could not resist the impulse of that which at first the people called my madness. I called to some men who were standing near a boat moored to the bank, and urged them to go with me to the rescue, but they would none of them stir. I took two long linen-lines, and tied them together, and requested the people on the bank to a.s.sist me, for I was determined to go alone if they would not go with me.

"I jumped into the boat, and then the men were ashamed, and took their oars, and said they would go without me; but no, that I was determined they should not do; so the man slackened the rope, as we were carried by the stream towards the barn, which had fortunately grounded upon the stump of some large tree which had collected a quant.i.ty of earth so as to form a bank near it. We had hard work to get up towards the smooth-water side of the barn; but the men kept the boat close to the side by pus.h.i.+ng against the trunk of the tree; and I stood up at the head of the boat, and received the dear children into my arms. They were all taken from the thatch, and we launched again into the eddies.

"Had it not been for the line, we should have been sent down the stream like an arrow from a bow. All our fear was lest the line should break, and if it had we could never have rowed up the stream. Thanks be to the providential mercy of G.o.d, we were all hauled safe to land.

"Oh! how the dear children did cling to me! They told me that they saw great alligators come up and look at them; but, poor things! their terrible situation would make them magnify a floating tree into an alligator. Horses, cows, sheep, and all kinds of animals, were hurried along the waters to the sea. I wonder whence all this body of fresh water can come from! We had no previous rains, and yet thousands and thousands of acres were covered ten, fifteen, and twenty feet deep with these floods.

"I brought Mr. Lacey's family to my own house. You know, my dear lady, how fond I am of children. I take care of them, and they a.s.sist me, until their father shall have got another habitation to take them to. Some poor creatures expired just as help reached them. They got on to houses, barns, stacks, and trees, and were often swept off all these resting-places. Many persons were drowned; many lost all their property. We were all fearful at one time that we should be swallowed up. Part of the hill on which my cottage stands began to cave away, and has left a cliff several feet high for a long distance. I was very near losing my own life; for I was standing on the verge of the hill when a part of my own field close by my feet caved in, and was swept away by the flood. It seemed to melt away like sugar in a cup; but, G.o.d be praised! I just escaped falling with it. You may believe that it terrified me.

"I have about twenty acres of land from my dear friend, Mrs. Palmer, who sends me one man to help me in the cultivation of it. Some have lost all: my loss is estimated at about fifty pounds. Everything is now so dear in the colony that my little stock in my shop is as much as doubled in its value; so that my loss in one way will be made up in another.

"We are almost afraid of starvation on account of the many thousand bushels of Indian corn carried away by the flood. This corn, mixed with a little wheat, makes most excellent bread. You may imagine, dear lady, how we suffer, when I state that most of the wheat then in the ground was completely rooted up and carried away like sea-weed. All manner of grain has become very dear. Government has issued a certain quant.i.ty for each sufferer for seed-corn.

"Clothing of all kinds is very scarce; but whilst I am writing, news has just arrived that a s.h.i.+p has providentially come into port laden with a vast supply, so that it will soon be the cheapest thing we can get. I should have done great things this year but for the flood; but I have every reason to be thankful for that which is left for me.

"My prayers, dear lady, are always for your happiness, and for the good of all your dear family. Pray G.o.d that I may have the comfort to hear from you again! It is the comfort of heaven to me to hear that you and yours are well. Give my dutiful thanks to that dear lady, Mrs. Sleorgin, for the handsome present of books which she has sent me, and for the letter of good advice which accompanied it. a.s.sure her, dear madam, that I endeavour to follow her advice every day. How thankful ought I to be to G.o.d that I have such dear friends who care for me!

"My health at times is not good, and I am still very thin. Tell Dr. Stebbing that I walk every day farther than the s.p.a.ce between his house and Nacton Street. G.o.d bless him! I have got several packages of curiosities for him. The greatest pleasure I have in this country is the hope of hearing from you, dear lady. I shall feed upon this hope for the next twelve months; and I a.s.sure you, when your letters do arrive, I am just as delighted as a child would be to hear from an affectionate parent.

"Give my love and duty to my master, and all the young people who may chance to know my name, and ever believe me to be "Your affectionate servant, "MARGARET CATCHPOLE.

"JOHN COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich."

The last letter received from Margaret Catchpole is also dated from Richmond Hill. It breathes the same affectionate attachment and anxiety, and is given here as worthy of the same attention as the former ones:-- "RICHMOND HILL, Sept. 1st, 1811.

"HONOURED MADAM, "On the 8th of August of this year, 1811, I received my cedar case that Captain Prichard should have brought. It is almost two years ago since he landed the troops at Sydney. Mrs. Palmer, my ever-constant friend, took charge of it for me, until I was enabled to go down myself. When I received tidings of its arrival, I set off from my cottage, and walked the whole way, leaving the eldest child I took from the flood to take care of my house. It is full fifty miles from Richmond Hill to Sydney. Mrs. Palmer could not think where the case could have been all that time. But your letter, my dear madam, has set all our minds easy upon the subject.

"At first I thought it was the case, and all the things I sent you, come back again. But bless you, dear lady, for thinking of me! I was greatly rejoiced when I found that you had received the birds quite safe, and that they gave you such pleasure. Everything that you have sent me is quite safe, and so delightfully packed, that I could see your own dear handiwork in the whole process. All are, I a.s.sure you, very acceptable to me; and many thousand thanks do I give for them. I never can feel sufficiently thankful to heaven and you.

"How deeply do I feel the loss of dear Mrs. Sleorgin! With G.o.d's help, I will endeavour to follow her good advice to the day of my own departure, and then I shall meet her again. My loss is, I am persuaded, her own gain. Her blessings have come here, and will be fruitful to her own good soul in a happier world. I am very fond of reading those good books which she has sent me, and I shall always be reminded of the benevolent donor.

"Dear lady, I am grieved to hear of the death of poor Miss Anne that was. She was always the most meek-spirited of all the young ladies. Master Rowland was always my favourite. He was born in those happy days when I lived with you; and he, too, is gone. Your letter conveys very anxious tidings; and though joyful to me to see your dear handwriting, yet I grieve to find that you have been so ill. Oh! if there was anything in this country that would do you good, however difficult it might be to be obtained, I would not cease using all my efforts until I had got it for you. If I can find anything at any time which may be new to you, and please your dear, good mind, anything you have not heard of before, what pleasure it will be to me!

"Oh! never can I be dutiful or grateful enough to you for your goodness to me. G.o.d preserve you long to be a blessing to your dear family and friends!

"I am ashamed, my dear madam, to send this hasty scribble into your hands, but the s.h.i.+p is about to sail directly, and I am hard pressed for time. I am pleased to think that you got my long list of dried plants and birds. I am sorry the insects were not better fastened in the case; I will attend particularly to your instructions about them for the future. I am living alone, as I was when I last wrote you, and am getting on well, in a very honest and independent way of life. People wonder why I do not marry. I cannot forget my late trials, troubles, and horrors, and I dread forming any acquaintance with any man. I was happy before such notions entered my mind, and I have been comparatively happy since I have had no more notions of the same sort. So I am single and free.

"The cap you have sent me, which you say is a great favourite of yours, I put on last evening, and drank my tea in it, with some tears of reflection. My heart was so full, to think that the work of your own hands, and that which had graced your own head, should cover such an unworthy one as mine, it made me feel humble and sorrowful, as well as joyful and thankful. I must hastily conclude this letter, as the messenger calls for any s.h.i.+p letters for Sydney. May the blessings and thanks of your grateful servant reach your dear heart, from the soul of "Your ever devoted servant, "MARGARET CATCHPOLE.

"J. COBBOLD, ESQ., Cliff, Ipswich."

It is now time that our attention should be recalled to one whose conduct has, we trust, already gained him a place in the reader's esteem, and who after all must be looked upon as the true hero of our simple story. John Barry (now most worthy to have that old English t.i.tle of Esquire attached to his name, as being the highest which was acknowledged in the settlement, under the governor) had, as the reader will remember, arrived at New South Wales, and settled at Liberty Plains. He was among the earliest free settlers in the land, and was a man of such firmness and steadiness of character, of such integrity and perseverance, that he succeeded far beyond his own most sanguine expectations, and established for himself such a character for probity, sagacity, and general worth, that he was consulted upon all the most interesting concerns of the colony. He it was who suggested to Governor King the first idea of establis.h.i.+ng the "Female Orphan Asylum," and proposed attaching one hundred acres of land as a marriage portion for the children. He it was who laid the second stone of St. John's Church, Paramatta. He built the first free-trader that was ever launched from Port Jackson. That he prospered it is needless to declare, because industry and integrity, with activity of mind, intelligence, and sincerity, must prosper in any place. He was a merchant as well as a great corn grower: he was also, as we have before stated, the government contractor for land. He never caballed with any one party against another, for the sake of increasing the price of land, but honestly, in a straight-forward way, stated the price per acre, the quant.i.ties that parties might have, and the money expected in a given time. He had sold for the government many thousand acres of the finest tract of land, which bordered upon the river Hawkesbury, and retained a portion for himself at Windsor, by the Green Hills, for which he strictly paid the highest price that was then given for land in that district.

His residence, called Windsor Lodge, was situated on a very commanding spot upon the south bank of the river. At a short distance from the water he had built very large granaries, capable of holding an immense quant.i.ty of grain, and this spot became the great corn-mart of the country; the grain was thence transported to the coast, and supplied every port connected with the colony. The Hawkesbury is a n.o.ble river, particularly opposite to Windsor Lodge, the house, or rather mansion, of the owner of the Green Hills around. If real worth and talent, if public and private benevolence, with the most expansive views of men and things, together with acts of such virtue and dignity as speak the spirit of true n.o.bility, could be found in any one, they existed in the mind and heart of that youth, who left the sh.o.r.es of old England a simple, single-minded Suffolk farmer's son, to become a man of wealth and goodness in a distant land.

It is true that no chivalric deed of arms signalized his career: he was an enterprising, but a peaceful man; he could boast no long line of ancestry higher or more exalted than himself. His parents were good, honest, and virtuous people, and their son bore the same character, but with the possession of superior information; and may we not, in some measure, trace the origin of all this man's virtues and good qualities to that pa.s.sion which still, as it was in the olden times, is the parent and prompter of all that is great and n.o.ble, all that is gentle; all, in short, that distinguishes man from the brutes that perish? Love dwelt, a pure and holy flame, in the breast of this young man; and change of scene, change of condition, increase of knowledge, of wealth, and of circ.u.mstances--in short, circ.u.mstances which would have changed almost any other being--changed not him.

It may seem strange to many that Mr. Barry should have been so long a leading man in the colony, and in constant communication with England, and never have heard of the fate of Margaret Catchpole. But when they understand that all notice of her career had been studiously excluded from the correspondence of his friends in England; and, moreover, that convicts of all cla.s.ses, when they came to Botany Bay, were sent to the northward to be employed on the government stores, and that the Hawkesbury was devoted princ.i.p.ally to free labourers and settlers, and that the line of demarcation between convict and free settler was extremely strict, their surprise will in a great degree cease.

Beloved and respected by all, as John Barry was, the wonder with all was that he never married. With every comfort around him, with health and cheerfulness, a goodly person, great repute, and wealth scarcely equalled by any one in the colony, he still remained a lone man; and but that he evinced a kind, benevolent, and friendly disposition towards all their s.e.x, the females would have set him down as a cold ascetic. He was far from being this kind of person. Love was the ruling principle of his life; and though he had himself suffered so much from disappointment that he never had the slightest inclination to address his affection to another, yet he encouraged social and domestic virtues in others, and advised many not to follow his bachelor example. His own sisters he had portioned off handsomely; and one of his greatest relaxations was to visit their abodes and to delight in their happiness and prosperity.

In the year 1811, Mr. John Barry was visited with a deep affliction, in the loss of one of his sisters, who died of fever, leaving a husband and a young family of seven children. But how surely does good spring out of seeming evil! Fraught as this event was with the most poignant grief to John Barry, it was, nevertheless, the ultimate cause of the consummation of all his hopes, and the completion of that happiness which he had so richly earned. Deeply desiring the welfare of his sister's children, and seeing the forlorn condition to which they were reduced by the death of their excellent mother, he at once acted with an energy and discretion which the afflicted husband could not command. He sought to obtain as speedily as possible some respectable person to take charge of the family, and he remembered that Mrs. Palmer had mentioned to him a valuable person, whom she had sent to Richmond Hill, to take charge of some motherless children related to herself. He therefore went down to Sydney immediately, and obtained an interview with that lady at the Orphan Asylum.

"I think, my dear madam, you mentioned to me, two or three years ago, that you lost a relative who left a young family, and that you sent a confidential female to superintend and take care of the children?"