Part 22 (1/2)

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!