Cornish Characters and Strange Events

"The wind was now blowing strong from the westward, with a heavy sea, and the day just dawned. Estimating ourselves to be at the distance of 350 miles from S. John's, Newfoundland, with a prospect of a continuance of westerly winds, it became necessary to use the strictest economy. I represented to my companions in distress that our resolution, once made, ought on no account to be changed, and that we must begin by suffering privations, which I foresaw would be greater than I ventured to explain. To each person, therefore, were served out half a biscuit and a glass of wine, which was the only allowance for the ensuing twenty-four hours, all agreeing to leave the water untouched as long as possible."

On the following day even this small allowance had to be contracted, in consequence of the biscuit being much damaged by salt water during the night. "Soon after daylight we made sail, with the jolly-boat in tow, and stood close-hauled to the northward and westward, in the hope of reaching the coast of Newfoundland or of being picked up by some vessel. Passed two islands of ice. We now said prayers, and returned thanks to God for our deliverance."

It was now the 4th July. The sufferings of those in the boats became excessive. The commander of the French schooner that had been captured went mad, and threw himself overboard. One of the French prisoners became so outrageous that it was found necessary to lash him to the bottom of the boat.

At last, on this same day, the 4th July, after seven days of dreadful privation and incessant storm, they reached Conception Bay, in the Avalon Peninsula, Newfoundland. They had been reduced to a quarter of a biscuit per diem and a wine-glass of port wine and spirit, and then of water.

Captain Fellowes says: "Overpowered by my own feelings, and impressed with the recollections of our sufferings and the sight of so many deplorable objects, I promised to offer up our solemn thanks to heaven for our miraculous deliverance. Every one cheerfully assented, and as soon as I opened the Prayer-book there was an universal silence. A spirit of devotion was singularly manifested on this occasion, and to the benefits of a religious sense in uncultivated minds must be ascribed that discipline, good order, and exertion, which even the sight of land could scarcely produce.

"The wind having blown with great violence from off the coast, we did not reach the landing-place at Island Cove till four o'clock in the evening. All the women and children in the village, with two or three fishermen (the rest of the men being absent), came down to the beach, and appearing deeply affected at our wretched situation, assisted in carrying us up the craggy rocks, over which we were obliged to pass to get to their habitations.

"The small village afforded neither medical aid nor fresh provisions, of which we stood so much in need, potatoes and salt fish being the only food of the inhabitants. I determined, therefore, to lose no time in proceeding to S. John's, having hired a small schooner for that purpose. On the 7th July we embarked in three divisions, placing the most infirm in the schooner, the master's mate being in charge of the cutter, and the boatswain of the jolly-boat; but such was the exhausted state of nearly the whole party, that the day was considerably advanced before we could get under way.

"Towards dusk it came on to blow hard in squalls off the land, when we lost sight of the cutter, and were obliged to come to anchor outside S. John's Harbour. We were under great apprehensions for the cutter's safety, as she had no grapnel, and lest she should be driven out to sea, but at daylight we perceived her and the schooner entering the harbour.

"The ladies, Colonel Cooke, Captain Thomas, and myself, having left the schooner when she anchored, notwithstanding the badness as well as extreme darkness of the night, reached the shore about midnight. We wandered for some time about the streets, there being no house open at that late hour, but were at length admitted into a small tenement, where we passed the remainder of the night on chairs, there being but one miserable bed for the ladies. Early on the following day, our circumstances being made known, hundreds of people crowded down to the landing-place. Nothing could exceed their surprise on seeing the boats that had carried twenty-nine persons such a distance over a boisterous sea, and when they beheld so many miserable objects, they could not conceal their emotions of pity and concern."

It was found that the greatest circumspection had to be used in administering nourishment to those who came on shore. They were so much frost-bitten, moreover, as to require constant surgical assistance. Many had lost their toes, and they were constrained to remain at S. John's till they were in a fit state to be removed to Halifax.

On the 11th July Captain Fellowes, with Captain Thomas, and Lieutenant-Colonel Cooke, engaged the cabin of a small vessel, bound for Oporto, so as to return to England.

When Captain Fellowes sent in his report on the loss of the Lady Hobart, he added a postscript: "I regret that, in the hurry of drawing up this narrative, I should have omitted to make particular mention of Captain Richard Thomas, r. n., from whose great professional skill and advice throughout our perilous voyage I derived the greatest assistance."

In December, 1803, Captain Thomas commissioned the Ætna bomb, and soon after joined the fleet under Lord Nelson in the Mediterranean station, where he was very actively employed up to the battle of Trafalgar. After that he served as flag-captain under his old friend and patron, Lord Collingwood.

In February, 1811, he was appointed to the Undaunted, employed in co-operation with the Spanish patriots off the coast of Catalonia. He was subsequently employed in command of a squadron stationed in the Gulf of Lyons, blockading Toulon. He was made Vice-Admiral of the Blue in 1848; Admiral of the Blue, 1854; Admiral of the White, 1857, in which year he died, and was buried at Stonehouse, 27th August. He married, in 1827, Gratiana, daughter of Lieutenant-General Richard Williams, r. n.

His brother, Charles Thomas, m. d., was for some time physician to the Devonport Dispensary.

COMMANDER JOHN POLLARD

Little did John Pollard as signal midshipman of the Victory in the battle of Trafalgar suppose that he was running up a message to the fleet from Nelson that would never be forgotten so long as the English name lasts, and the Englishman maintains the character which has ever belonged to him.

He was the son of John Pollard, and entered the Navy on November 1st, 1797. Before the battle commenced Nelson dictated the signal, "England confides that every man will do his duty." Pollard, to whom the order was given, remarked that the word confides was not in the code, and suggested in its stead the term expects, which Nelson at once accepted. Napoleon so much admired this last order of Nelson's that he caused it to be printed, with a difference, of France for England, and commanded that a copy should be given to each of the officers of the navy. "It is the best of lessons," he said.

Pollard was born at Kingsand, Cornwall, on 27th July, 1787, so that he was aged but eighteen when he suggested the alteration in Nelson's famous message, and saw it signalled to the fleet. He died in the Royal Hospital, Greenwich, 22nd April, 1868, at the advanced age of eighty-one. He did nothing further that was remarkable, and is remembered only in connection with Nelson's signal, an instance of: —

Unregarded age in corners thrown

THE CASE OF BOSAVERN PENLEZ

At the end of June, 1749, a sailor was robbed in a low, disreputable house in the Strand. He stormed and demanded the restoration of his purse, but could obtain no redress; he was laughed at and ejected from the place. He at once returned to his vessel and narrated his wrongs, and so roused the resentment of his comrades that they promised to accompany him to the Strand and work retribution on the thieves.

Accordingly on July 1st a body of them marched down the Strand, and reaching the house broke in the door and "levell'd their rage against the house and goods of the caitif, whom they looked on as the author of the villainy exercised on their brother Tar. Accordingly they went to work as if they were breaking up a ship, and in a trice unrigg'd the house from top to bottom. The movables were thrown out of the windows or doors to their comrades in the street, where, a bonfire being made, they were burnt, but with so much decency and order, so little confusion, that notwithstanding the crowd gather'd together on this occasion, a child of five years old might have crossed the street in the thickest of them without the least danger.

"The neighbours, too, though their houses were not absolutely free from danger of fire by the sparks flying from the bonfire, were so little alarm'd at this riot that they stood at their doors, and look'd out of their windows, with as little concern, and perhaps more glee and mirth, than if they had been at a droll in Bartholomew Fair, seeing the painted scene of the renoun'd Troy Town in flames." After the house had been completely gutted, and not before, the guards came from the Savoy, which, by the way, was not above a good stone's throw from the scene of action, whereupon the sailors withdrew, unarrested and unpursued. If matters had remained here it would have been well, but unhappily this first performance whetted the appetites of the sailors for another, and they resolved on sacking another house a few doors from that they had gutted, which also did not bear a good character.

Accordingly next evening, being Sunday, they returned, and proceeded to treat this second house in the same manner as the first "without so much as the least interruption, till they had full timely notice to get off before the guards arrived, who came, as before, too late, that one would have been tempted to imagine they came too late on purpose.

"A regular bonfire then having been made as before, all the goods of the house were triumphantly convey'd into it; and if the finding of bundles and effects of any of the actors would have aggravated their guilt, numbers might have been seized with the goods upon them, between the house and the bonfire, where they were all carefully destroy'd, to avoid any slur or suspicion of pillage for private use. This was carry'd to such an exactness that a little boy, who perhaps thought no great harm to save a gilt cage out of the fire for his bird at home, was discover'd carrying it off, when the leaders of the mob took it from him and threw it into the fire, and his age alone protected him from severe punishment. Nothing, in short, was imbezzled or diverted, except an old gown or petticoat, thrown at a hackney coachman's head as a reward for a dutiful Huzza, as he drove by.

"As to the neighbours, who were at their doors and windows seeing the whole without the least concern or alarm, there was not probably one of those who, though as good and as loyal subjects as any his Majesty has, and as well affected to the peace and quiet of his government, imagin'd or dream'd there was any spirit of sedition or riotous designs in these proceedings beyond the open and expressed intention of destroying these obnoxious houses; and tho' the coolest and sensiblest doubtless thought the joke was going too far, and wished even that the Government had interposed sooner, and less faintly, yet they had not the least notion of any such extraordinary measure of guilt in their proceedings as would affect life or limb."

The sailors had now gathered about them, some as lookers on, some as assistants, a large number of men and boys, and these now moved up the street in a body, with a bell ringing before them, to the house of one Peter Wood, a hairdresser, but in bad odour, as keeping a disorderly house, under the sign of the Star.

Into this house the mob broke, although Peter Wood offered money if only they would spare him and its contents. But they were deaf to his entreaties, and his house was only saved by the arrival of the guards, who at once proceeded to arrest several persons. Among those they secured was Bosavern Penlez, or Penlees, son of a clergyman in Cornwall, who had been put apprentice to a wig-maker in town.

With him were secured John Wilson, Benjamin Lander, and another, who shortly after died of gaol-fever in Newgate. All these four, not one of whom was a sailor, were locked up in prison, and kept there till the September Sessions, when they were indicted "for that they, together with divers other persons, to the number of forty and upwards, being feloniously and riotously assembled, to the disturbance of the public peace, did begin to demolish the house of Peter Wood against the form of the statute in that case made and provided, July the 3rd."

Against Lander, Peter Wood swore that "he was in the passage of his house, assisting to break the partition; that that was the first time of his seeing him; that he broke the window of the bar with his stick; that he (Lander) was taken upstairs."

On a cross-examination he averred that he did not see Lander at the first coming up of the mob to his house; but he asserted that he stuck fast to him when he saw him in the passage, which was half an hour before the arrival of the guards.

Peter Wood's wife swore that Lander had knocked her down, and had beaten her almost to a jelly.

Lander, in his defence, proved that between twelve and one o'clock that night he was going home to his lodgings, when he heard that there was a riot in the Strand; and that meeting with a soldier who had been ordered with his detachment to disperse the mob in the Strand, he persuaded him to enter with him into a public-house and have a drink. The soldier consented, and then left, and Lander followed to see the fun, and found the mob retreating to Temple Bar, driven forward by the guards. Thereupon, according to his own account, he went into Peter Wood's house to see what mischief had been done, when Wood laid hold of him, under the notion that he was a straggler left behind of those who had begun to wreck the house. Happily at that moment in came the soldier whom Lander had treated to a pint of beer. The evidence of this soldier was conclusive, and Lander was discharged, after having suffered imprisonment for over two months.

It appears evident that Peter Wood's testimony was false; not perhaps purposely so, but erroneous through his mistaking one man for another in the excitement of the partial destruction of his house.

The evidence he gave against John Wilson was that the man knocked him down, and that Wilson, stooping over him, asked, "You dog, are you not dead yet?" and that he caught hold of Wilson's hand and kissed it and prayed for mercy. Moreover, Mrs. Wood testified that she also had entreated him to stay his hand, and had "held him by the face, and stroked him." The waiting-man clinched the testimony by swearing that he also had seen Wilson in the parlour as the settee-bed was being thrown out of the window, and that he (Wilson) helped to throw the bed out. John Wilson earnestly protested that a mistake had been made, and that he was not the man who had done that of which he was accused. He brought numerous testimonies to his good character; but these availed not, and he was condemned to death.

Bosavern Penlez admitted that he had been in Peter Wood's house; he had been rather tipsy at the time, and had been drawn in to follow the mob, but he had done no mischief, neither had he joined the rabble with any evil intent. This availed not; he also was condemned to death. At the last moment Wilson was reprieved and finally pardoned; but poor Bosavern was hanged at Tyburn on the 18th October, 1749, at the age of twenty-three.

Much feeling had been roused in favour of Penlez, and a petition had been got up, numerously signed, requesting that he might be pardoned; but it availed nothing. Then a pamphlet appeared, entitled, The Case of the Unfortunate Bosavern Penlez, published by T. Clement, S. Paul's Churchyard, 1749.

As this was widely disseminated, and comments were passed that a grievous injustice had been committed, Henry Fielding, the magistrate, published an answer, entitled A True State of the Case of Bosavern Penlez. A. Miller, Strand, 1749.

According to this, on July 1st the house of one Owen, in the Strand, had been attacked. Nathaniel Munns, beadle, had tried to stop it, and two rioters were taken by the constables and conveyed to the prison of the Duchy of Lancaster Liberty. On Sunday, July 2nd, there was a recurrence of the riot, outside the beadle's house; the windows were broken, the bars wrenched away, and the prisoners were released, and doors and windows of the watch-house were smashed.

John Carter, constable, gave evidence as to July 1st, that two wagon-loads of goods had been consumed by fire outside Owen's house. He appealed to General Campbell, at Somerset House, for assistance, and the General sent twelve of the Guards, when the rioters retreated, and began an attack on the house of one Stanhope, throwing stones, breaking windows, and pelting the soldiers, so that soon forty men of the Guards had to be despatched to disperse the rioters.

On Sunday, July 2nd, according to the constable, the mob again assembled in front of Stanhope's house and demolished its contents. Mr. Wilson, a woollen draper, and Mr. Actor, of the same trade, applied for protection, as their shops adjoined the house of Stanhope, and again soldiers were sent for, who dispersed the mob.

James Cecil, Constable of St. George's parish, deposed that on Monday, July 3rd, he was attending prisoners in a coach to Newgate, and he had difficulty in making his way through the mob; and he saw the rioters engaged in smashing the windows of a house near the Old Bailey.

Saunders Welsh, gent., High Constable of Holborn, deposed that on Sunday, July 2nd, he had received information from Stanhope, as to the wrecking of Owen's house on the previous night, and of his fears for his own. On returning that same evening through Fleet Street, he perceived a great fire in the Strand, upon which he proceeded to the house of Peter Wood, who informed him that the rioters had demolished the house of Stanhope, burning his furniture and goods, and that they threatened to deal in the same manner with his house. Whereupon, he, Mr. Saunders Welsh, applied at the Tilt-yard for a military force, which he could only obtain with much difficulty, as he could produce no order from a Justice of the Peace. At length he procured such order, and then an officer and forty men were sent to the scene of the riot. On reaching Cecil Street, he ordered that the drum should be beaten. When he came up to Peter Wood's house, he found that the mob had already in part demolished it, and had thrown a great part of its contents into the street, and were debating about burning them. Had they done so, the deponent said, it would infallibly have set fire to the houses on both sides of the street, which at that point was very narrow, and opposite Wood's house was the bank of Messrs. Snow and Denne. Hearing, however, the rattle of the drum, and the tramp of the advancing soldiers, the mob retreated, and it was whilst so retreating that Bosavern Penlez was arrested, carrying off with him some of the goods of Peter Wood.

Penlez and others were brought before Henry Fielding, J. P. for Middlesex, and were committed to Newgate. This was on Monday. But the same evening there was a recrudescence of the riots, and four thousand sailors assembled on Tower Hill with the resolution to march to Temple Bar. To obviate all future danger, a larger party of soldiers was called out, and these, along with the peace officers, patrolled the Strand all night.

Samuel Marsh, watchman of St. Dunstan's, had apprehended Bosavern Penlez, as he was making off with a bundle of linen, which he pretended belonged to his wife. Before he was arrested, the watchman saw him thrusting divers lace objects into his bosom and pockets, but he let fall a lace cap. When apprehended, he protested that he was conveying his wife's property, who had pawned all his clothes, and that he was retaliating by taking her articles to pawn.

There were other witnesses against Penlez, and although the evidence of Peter Wood was worthless, that of the beadles and watchmen sufficed to show that he had been collecting and making into a bundle various articles from Wood's house, with the object of purloining them. The question of Penlez having been in Wood's house was not gone into. Bosavern in vain called for witnesses to his character. His master, the peruke maker, declined to put in an appearance and give favourable testimony; for, in fact, Penlez had been leading a dissipated and disorderly life. Henry Fielding, in conclusion, says: "The first and second day of the riot, no magistrate, nor any other higher peace-officer than a petty constable (save only Mr. Welsh) interfered in it. On the third day only one magistrate took on him to act. When the prisoners were committed to Newgate, no public prosecution was for some time ordered against them; and when it was ordered, it was carried on so mildly, that one of the prisoners (Wilson) being not in prison, was, though contrary to the laws, at the desire of a noble person in great power, bailed out, when a capital indictment was then found against him. At the trial, neither an Attorney nor Solicitor-General, nor even one of the King's Council, appeared against the prisoners. Lastly, when two were convicted, one only was executed; and I doubt very much whether even he would have suffered, had it not appeared that a capital indictment for burglary was likewise found by the Grand Jury against him, and upon such evidence as I think every impartial man must allow would have convicted him (had he been tried) for felony at least."

There had been found on Penlez ten lace caps, four laced handkerchiefs, three pairs of laced ruffles, two laced clouts, five plain handkerchiefs, five plain aprons, one laced apron, all the property of the wife of Peter Wood. It was altogether false that Penlez was married. Fielding says: "I hope I have said enough to prove that the man who was made an example of deserved his fate. Which, if he did, I think it will follow that more hath been said and done in his favour than ought to have been; and that the clamour of severity against the Government hath been in the highest degree unjustifiable. To say the truth, it would be more difficult to justify the lenity used on this occasion."

The case of Bosavern Penlez was the more hard and open to criticism, in that, in the very same year, there was a serious riot in the Haymarket Theatre, when the Duke of Cumberland, a prince of the blood, had drawn his sword, and leaping upon the stage, had called on everybody to follow him. The people, ripe for mischief, were too loyal to decline a prince's invitation. The seats were smashed, the scenery torn down, and the wreckage carried into the street, where a bonfire was made of it; and but for the timely appearance of the authorities the building itself would have been added to the fuel. For this, no one was hanged. What was sauce for the goose was not sauce for the gander.

Reference is made to the case of Bosavern Penlez in Walpole's Memoirs of the Last Ten Years of George II, I, p. 11, and in the Private Journal of John Byrom, published by the Chetham Society, as also in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1749.

SAMUEL FOOTE

This dramatic author and player was born at Truro in the year 1721.17 His father, John Foote, was a magistrate of the county of Cornwall and commissioner of the Prize office and Fine contract. He was well descended, deriving from the family of Foote of Trelogorsick, in Veryan, afterwards of Lambesso, in S. Clements, acquired by bequest in the reign of Charles II. The arms of the family were, vert a chevron between three doves argent– the doves singularly inappropriate as the cognizance of Samuel, as that bird was deemed to be without gall. Bodannan, in S. Enoder, was acquired by the Footes of Lambesso by purchase. The family did not register its arms and establish its pedigree at the visitation of the Heralds in 1620, but that it was gentle admits of no dispute. As no pedigree of the family has been recorded, it is unknown who was the grandfather of Samuel Foote, but possibly he may have been the Samuel Foote of Tiverton whose daughter Elizabeth married, 1691, Dennis Glyn of Cardinham, son of Nicolas Glyn of Cardinham, M.P. for Bodmin and Sheriff of Cornwall. Samuel's mother, descended in the female line from the Earls of Rutland, was daughter of Sir Edward Goodere, Bart., who had two surviving brothers out of six – Sir John Dinely Goodere, Bart., and Samuel Goodere, captain of His Majesty's ship Ruby. A disagreement having arisen between the two brothers, Sir John cut off the entail of his estates and settled them on his sister's family. This widened the breach, and the brothers had not spoken for years.