“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 assure 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 God’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. God 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 ship 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 ship 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.”