“Dear old man! he promised to spend Christmas-day with me in my cell. He is in a happier place, where joy and peace will make every day his Christmas. I shall think of you to-morrow at two o’clock. Do you remember, Edward, the evening of our mother’s funeral? Do you remember the stranger’s visit, and that stranger our brother Charles? This melancholy time reminds me of him. You will have a dreary home now. Oh that I had power to make it happier!
“I am glad the Cracknells are still near you, and that they are kind to you; though their misfortunes and mine have kept pace with each other. Never mind, Edward, what cruel people say to you about their prophecies concerning my downfall. They only tell you these things to aggravate you. The time may come when they will impudently say, they prophesied my rise and progress in the world. I hope better days are coming.
“You must come and see me as soon as you can; for I feel at this time very low and sorrowful. So my dear brother, do come and see me, when you are able to spare the time. Pray for me, and I will not cease to do so for you. My dear mistress has promised to send this by an especial messenger. How kind of her to think of one so unworthy as your affectionate sister,
"Margaret Catchpole.”
In the spring of 1798, Edward Catchpole, finding the notoriety his sister had obtained occasioned him much annoyance, left the neighbourhood of Ipswich, and went into Cambridgeshire, where he obtained a situation as shepherd, and was always a respectable character. Poor Margaret felt this loss keenly, though a letter from him now and then cheered her spirits.[10]
Her kind friends in Ipswich made her many little presents, which she treasured up against the time she should go out. She hoped it might be in three years. Inquiries were frequently made concerning her conduct, which was uniformly orderly and good. She was the most useful person that Mrs. Ripshaw ever had in the prison.
Margaret never made use of one single shilling of that money which Laud had thrown down for her. She always thought that the time would come when it might be claimed; and looked upon it as a sort of confidential deposit, for which she was answerable. No individual could have acted with more scrupulous and faithful regard.
Time swept on, and Margaret had spent two years of good conduct in the Ipswich gaol. The magistrates had told Mr. Ripshaw they should recommend her at the Midsummer assizes, when she was mentioned in high terms to the Lord Chief Baron. But the crime of horse-stealing still continued, day by day, to be a growing evil; and, as if Margaret was made to feel the consequence of others’ crimes, no mitigation of her sentence was yet granted. It had been injudiciously told her by some friend, who, no doubt, meant it kindly, that an application had been made to the judge for the shortening of the period of her imprisonment. This made her feel very anxious; and it proved a great disappointment to her when she found that the interest made in her behalf was ineffectual. Her mind was unhinged, and her spirit grew restless, anxious, and oppressed. Her mistress observed these symptoms with concern, and dreaded a return of that irritability which had formerly rendered her so miserable.
But where was William Laud? At his old trade. He was deeply concerned in that affair at Dunwich, where William Woodward and Benjamin Lawsey, two boatmen belonging to his majesty’s Customs at Southwold, were beaten and thrown into the sea; and the government offered one hundred pounds reward for the apprehension of any one of the offenders. Forty empty carts were seen by these two men, standing ready for a run, with horses and men in a lane at Dunwich. The reward was offered in the county newspapers of the date of March 2nd, 1799.