“Dear Sir,

“This is to acquaint you with our safe landing at Sydney, on the 20th of December, and that we all arrived in good health. Barker bore the voyage the worst of the three, and was so terrified at the sea that she could scarcely bear to look at it; and whenever it was rough she would never be persuaded to come on deck. She used frequently to cry out that she wished you were near her. She is just the same as ever, now she is on land: I regret to say, no better. Elizabeth Killet lives very near to me, and is very well. She and I were both taken off the stores on the same day. We have not to go to government work, as the horses do; but we have both obtained respectable places, and I hope we shall continue in them.

“I am sorry to say that Barker has to spin for government, her character not being such as to deserve a good report: she is still upon the stores. But she can get her stint of work done by one o’clock if she chooses to work hard at it, and then her time is her own till six. Pray, sir, give my kind remembrance to all my fellow-prisoners, and tell any of them that may be sentenced to come out to this country not to be dead-hearted, as I was, about Botany Bay; for if they are sent out, and will only conduct themselves well, they will be better off than in prison.

“The greater part of this country is not yet explored; and if inhabited, it is by natives of a very low caste and hideous features. Those that I have already seen are of a very ferocious aspect. They carry along with them spears of great length, made of hard wood, and a sort of hatchet, made of bone, stone, or very hard wood. They look half-starved, and have very long, lank visages, most hideously distorted by various customs; such as knocking out a front tooth to denote their arrival at manhood, painting their brows, and putting quills through the cartilage which separates the nostrils of their wide-distended noses.

“Their females, I am told, are in a very degraded condition, and are generally stolen from other tribes, and brutally treated, being beaten into immediate subjection by their husbands, who steal them. The men seem to me a very subtle race. If they meet an unarmed white man at a distance from home, they will spear and rob him. They behave themselves well enough when they come into the town, and visit, as they do sometimes, the Female Orphan Asylum, where I live. If they did not they would soon be punished; still they are very sly and treacherous, and can take up things with their long toes as easily as we do the same with our hands.

“They often have a grand fight among themselves, either to gratify their leader or to settle some dispute between the tribes. Twenty or thirty join in the fight, whilst all the others look on, as if it was only a game of play; but some of them are sure to be killed. There is nothing said or done to them for killing each other in this manner. What horrible barbarians they must be!

“The crops of wheat are very good in this country. Forty bushels per acre are commonly grown; it is a very fertile place, and fruitful in every respect. I will write more fully of the country another time. Population increases rapidly. Some things, which we cannot obtain, are very dear: tea is 25s. per pound; sugar, 2s.; salt beef, 1s.; and mutton, 2s. per pound. A pair of shoes, 15s.; 10s. a pair of stockings; 5s. for a yard of common print; calico, 3s. per yard; soap, 3s. per pound; onions, 6d. per pound; potatoes, 2d. per pound; a cabbage, 6d.; rum, 5s. per bottle; a quart of porter, 2s. Fish is as cheap as anything we can buy; but we have no money here to trade with.

“Pray, my dear sir, remember me to Mrs. Ripshaw, and tell her that one of Mr. Ripshaw’s daughters, who lives up in the country here, paid a visit to the Orphan Asylum last week. She asked me, when she heard my voice, if I was not a Suffolk woman. This led to my knowledge of her being the daughter of Mr. Ripshaw’s first wife. Pray, write to me as soon as you can. I shall never forget your goodness to me, from the day I rode the pony to your door till the day I left Ipswich. I shall never forget your dear daughter, so clever, so kind to every one. Remember me to your faithful servant, who was such a friend to me, and give my duty to all inquiring friends. We had not a single death in our ship, though we had near two hundred females on board.

“Just as I am writing this a messenger has come flying into the town to say that the Blacks have killed eight men, women, and children. One man’s arms they have cut, and broke his bones, and have done the same by his legs up to his knees. The poor fellow is just now carried past to the hospital, but he looked more dead than alive, and death would be a blessing to him. The governor has sent out troops after them, with orders to shoot all they can find. I hope I may be able to give you a better account of the natives when I write again. Pray send me word if you know where Dinah Parker and her child were sent to. Give my love to my uncle and aunt Leader. My brother Edward should not have deserted me; I always loved him affectionately. God bless you, dear doctor, and direct your letter to me at Mr. John Palmer’s, Female Orphan Asylum, Sydney; and ever think of me as your faithful and humble servant,

"Margaret Catchpole.

“To John Cobbold, Esq., Cliff, Ipswich.
"Favoured by Captain Sumpter.”

"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 God, 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 snatch 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 ship 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 God, 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 anticipation 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 God 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 passed by him without provoking an attack! The whole of that night I did nothing but lie and think of this event, and thank God 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 assure 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 God; 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 quantity 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 God bless and keep you all, is the constant prayer of