“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 quantity for each sufferer for seed-corn.
“Clothing of all kinds is very scarce; but whilst I am writing, news has just arrived that a ship 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 God 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. Assure her, dear madam, that I endeavour to follow her advice every day. How thankful ought I to be to God 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 space between his house and Nacton Street. God 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 assure 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.