Devonshire Characters and Strange Events (part 4 of 4)

Devonshire Characters and Strange Events (part 4 of 4)

David Spencer Warren, citizen of the United States. On hearing the alarm bell he went to the gate, which was already burst open, and the prisoners had got into the Market-yard. “A number of soldiers were in the square, and Capt. Shortland was at the head of one party of them, and he was forming a line across the yard, which after he had done, he told them to charge. That the soldiers did charge on the prisoners, who ran back into the prison yard, and as they got inside the gate, they flung one of them to. That Capt. Shortland ordered one of the soldiers to fire, and immediately there was a soldier with his musket turned to the right, and Capt. Shortland caught hold of the musket and pointed it towards a man that stood by the gate, and said, ‘God d---- you, fire!’ that directly after this a fire of musketry became general. That this informant did not see any of the officers with the soldiers when Capt. Shortland gave the orders to fire. That after the firing began he saw some stones thrown by the prisoners over the wall into the square.”

James Greenlaw, a citizen of the United States, heard the alarm bell ring, and went to the railing giving admission to the Market Square, which was already burst open, and some prisoners in the square. “At the same time he saw the troops coming through the market-gate, with Capt. Shortland at their head, and saw him form the men in one line, extending across the square, and he then ordered them to charge, whereupon the prisoners retreated into the prison yard, when the informant heard Capt. Shortland give orders for the soldiers to fire upon the prisoners, whereupon this informant ran into No. 4 yard, for shelter, and saw two black men fall. That as soon as this informant thought the firing had ceased, he ran up towards the grating to speak to Capt. Shortland, and asked him if he would allow him to speak to him, when Capt. Shortland said, ‘No, you d---- d rascal!’ whereupon two soldier officers put their swords through the iron railing towards the informant, and one soldier pricked him with his bayonet. That this informant then retreated into No. 3 yard, and he then heard two distinct volleys.... That this informant did not see any stones thrown until the firing had commenced, and then he saw two stones thrown over the wall.”

Thomas Burgess Mott, citizen of the United States, gave evidence as to the firing on the prisoners from the walls, and at the door of No. 5 prison.

Enoch Burnham, citizen of the United States, gave very similar evidence. He confirmed the statement made by Andrews in his narrative of the murder of the man against the wall.

Robert Holmden, first clerk to Captain Shortland, had informed the Governor of the breach in the wall and went with him to inspect it. “Whereupon Captain Shortland ordered the alarm bell to be rung; and as soon as the guard could be collected, he went with them into the Market Square.... He heard one shot fired, which was followed by several others. He did not go down among the prisoners, or see what took place there.”

Homer Hull, citizen of the United States, saw a man with a bolt in his hand break the lock of the gate. “Just at the time the gate was forced open, he saw some soldiers come into the Market Square; when Capt. Shortland gave the soldiers orders to charge, and the soldiers accordingly charged; when the prisoners retreated into the prisons, and one of them shut to the gates; then the soldiers marched down a little further, when Capt. Shortland ordered them to fire.... That he did not see any stones thrown before the musketry began to be discharged, but afterwards he saw a stone thrown from the prison yard towards the square.”

Robert McFarlane, assistant surgeon at the prison, had assisted Dr. Magrath to persuade the prisoners to retire. “This informant heard no order to fire. Capt. Shortland was at the south end of the guard, and this informant thinks if he had given orders to fire he must have heard it--that at the time the first musket was fired nearly one-third of the Market Square was filled with the prisoners, making a great noise in a very riotous and disorderly manner, and stones were thrown by the prisoners from all quarters.”

John Tozer, turnkey, gave testimony of no importance.

Joseph Manning, sergeant of the 1st Somerset Regiment of Militia, was sent by Captain Shortland to fetch Major Joliffe, “who put himself at the head of the grenadiers, and before Major Joliffe had gone ten yards from the south guard gate the firing commenced. That it was impossible for Major Joliffe to give orders to fire, as he was not near the spot when the firing first began.”

These are all the depositions taken before the coroner. Others taken before the commissioners were as follows:--

John Rust, one of the prisoners and one of the Committee that drew up the report already given. “About 6 o’clock in the evening I came from the place where I was taking supper, and persuaded the prisoners to leave the breach. At the time I went to the breach the horn had not sounded; it sounded but a few minutes before the firing. I heard the alarm bell ring before the firing took place. The firing continued at intervals about fifteen minutes.... I saw nothing of the firing in the Market Square.”

John T. Trowbridge, another of the Prisoners’ Committee, made no part of the report from his own knowledge.

John Boggs, another of the Committee, “made no part of the report from my own knowledge.”

Amos Wheeler, sergeant of the north guard, “was ordered by Capt. Shortland to march to the Market Square; the officer of the guard was not then with it.... There were not many prisoners in the Market Square when our guard entered. The alarm bell had rung before we marched. When we entered, the prisoners were endeavouring to burst the gates below.... When they had succeeded in bursting them there was a great rush towards the soldiers. They threw stones at the soldiers before there was any firing. They were not armed with anything that I saw.... Captain Shortland ordered the soldiers to bring their muskets down to the charge. I believe Capt. Shortland was in front of the guard, at this time, desiring the prisoners to go back. I saw none of the prisoners wresting the arms from the soldiers. I saw none of them attempt to seize the arms.... I heard no order to fire, nor do I know how it began; did not hear any of the prisoners challenging the soldiers to fire.... I did not see the officer of the guard at this time. The firing was in an independent manner, three or four muskets being discharged at a time. After the firing commenced the prisoners began to retire towards their prisons. I did not hear any cheering among them, or see them rally after the fire.... I did not go into the prison yard.”

John Saunders, private in the 1st Regiment of Somerset Militia. “I was with the first party of soldiers that marched into the Market Square; at that time the gate was broken open the prisoners were coming through in a crowd. The alarm bell rang at the time we reached the west guard-house; the officer of the guard was with us, I believe. I believe it was he who ordered us into the square.... Capt. Shortland, after some discourse with the prisoners, ordered to charge--with some difficulty we got the prisoners back to the gates, some of them retiring through the gates.... The square was nearly clear of prisoners before the firing--they did not return into the square, but threw some stones through the rails. I heard the word ‘Fire!’ given, but do not know by whom. There were no prisoners in the Market Square when the first shots were fired. The prisoners had the command of the gates, so as to open them when they thought proper. I fired my musket. The prisoners closed the gates after them, which we opened, and we received orders from the commanding officer to charge the men to their prisons. No muskets were fired in compelling them to their prisons.[53] Just before the firing the prisoners were throwing stones, and insulting the soldiers. Saw no prisoners attempting to wrest the arms from the soldiers. Several shots were fired into No. 3--they were fired into the doorway. I heard no order given for this fire, and heard none to cease firing; there was much disturbance among the prisoners going in, and a stone was thrown out.”

William Smith, private in the 1st Somerset Militia. “I heard no order to fire. The firing was in an independent manner, one after another, till nearly all the guard had fired, and then they loaded again. No order was given to fire.”

John Tutt, private. “Can’t say exactly who ordered us to charge, but think it was Captain Shortland’s voice.... While charging, a stone knocked off my cap.... I heard the order for the firing in the square; it commenced while I was picking up my cap.”

William Rowles, private. “Captain Shortland gave the order to charge.... I heard an order to fire, but don’t know from whom.... I entered the prison yard, saw a soldier level his musket into prison No. 3. I heard no order to the soldier to fire into No. 3; saw no officer there at this time.”

John Hamlet, private. “I heard the order to charge by Capt. Shortland.... I was struck by a stone in advancing.... I heard an order to fire given before any firing took place, but don’t know by whom.”

John Williams, sergeant. “I heard no order to fire; our guard seeing the state the prisoners were in began firing of their own accord.”

John Twyford Jolliff, major commanding, handed in a written statement, dated 7 April, 1815: “Yesterday evening, between the hours of six and seven o’clock, soon after the officers’ dinner, the mess-waiter came into the mess-room and said that the American prisoners had broken out of the prison, and were attempting their escape. I immediately ordered the troops composing the garrison to fall in at the alarm post. Whilst the troops were forming, I heard several shots fired, upon which I immediately took the grenadiers and proceeded to the west guard.... Upon my arrival several of the troops were formed in the market-place, and had fired some shots. I immediately called out to them to cease firing, and finding that the prisoners still refused to go into their prison, I took a party of grenadiers and went into two of the prison yards, and told the soldiers [prisoners?] to go into their prisons, which they very reluctantly did. Several stones were thrown at the military.... The military fired a few shot at the prisoners in the yard, in consequence of their throwing stones and refusing to go into the prison, but the firing was without any orders, and I conceive took place owing to the military being so exasperated. As soon as the prisoners were all gone into their different prisons and properly secured, I returned to the barracks.” He added, “Several shots were fired in the prison yards, but entirely without any command.”

George Pett, sergeant, testified to the efforts made by Major Joliffe to put an end to the firing.

Henry Burgoyne, private, was on the platform when the alarm bell rang, but left it for the Market Square. “I heard an order to fire, but don’t know who gave it.”

Edward Jackson, private of the Derby Militia, was on the platform. “I think there had been two volleys in the Market Square before the men on the platform fired. No order was given to fire on my platform; to the best of my recollection I think I heard a command ‘to commence firing from the right.’ I saw no tumult in the yard before the firing.”

Thomas Burgess Mott, prisoner, gave unimportant evidence. “I did not hear the horn sound before the firing.”

Walter Cotton, prisoner and one of the Committee, did not hear the horn. Entirely repudiated any intention on the part of the prisoners to break out; he complained of acts of barbarity committed previously by Captain Shortland; but gave no evidence relative to the “massacre.”

William Hobart, one of the Prisoners’ Committee, had not heard the horn sound before the alarm bell rang. Hearing the bell, he went out to know the cause, but did not pass into the Market Square, though within a few yards of the gate; and finding there was danger returned to his ward. He also complained of acts of barbarity previously committed by the Governor.

William B. Orne, one of the Committee, gave no evidence of importance.

Niel M’Kinnon, prisoner. “I heard an order given to charge and fire, but don’t know by whom.” Seeing a man, Haywood, killed, he went to the gate to speak to Captain Shortland, and begged him to make the firing cease. He told Orne to go to his prison. “I went down to No. 4 yard; while going down the yard a volley was fired into it by the soldiers in the Market Square; there were many prisoners then in the yard.... Was going up the yard, when I met a party of military with an officer, driving along four or five prisoners. I went up to the officer, who I understood was Major Joliffe, and remonstrated with him on the harsh treatment the prisoners were receiving. He put his fist in my face, and swore ‘By God, they would not be trifled with any longer by us.’ I was driven with the rest into No. 4. I entered the prison with my face to the soldiers ... at that moment a musket was fired close to me, which wounded a little boy, who screamed and dropped down; he died next day.” He repudiated any intent of the prisoners to escape.

John G. Gatchell, prisoner. “I heard an order to fire, but don’t know by whom; the first volley one man fell. I went to him; he said he was wounded in the breast. I called assistance, and was trying to get him to the receiving-house, when Captain Shortland entered No. 7 gate with two soldiers, and said something which induced the two others to run away and leave the wounded man with me; upon which Captain Shortland, seeing I did not run, said, ‘Kill the d---- d rascal!’ The soldiers charged on me, and a bayonet pierced my clothes and skin, going in about a quarter of an inch. I was then forced to leave the wounded man and run, when a soldier followed me, and Capt. Shortland, urging him on, repeated several times, ‘Kill the d---- d rascal!’ While running on I was pricked three times, and would have been killed, but stepping aside the bayonet ran under my arm, and the soldier with the force of the thrust fell on his knees, by which means I escaped into the prison. While getting in No. 7 I saw Captain Shortland running down the yard towards No. 5 with the soldiers, and heard him order them to fire. He was facing me at the time; was running towards No. 5, and ordering them to fire as they ran, which they did. I did not see that the soldiers hesitated to fire when ordered; they did fire.... Two soldiers came into the gate abreast of Capt. Shortland, but many followed him, thirty or forty perhaps. After the soldiers were in the yard those on the ramparts did not fire.... While the prisoners were running to No. 7 they were cut off by a cross-fire from the ramparts.”

Andrew Davis, prisoner. “I went up to No. 1 gate; when I got there, five or six men were bringing a man, who appeared to be badly wounded, into the Market Square. I heard Capt. Shortland order them to let go the wounded man; one of them (this was John Hubbard) remonstrated against it, and Capt. Shortland struck him with his fist. The man then went outside of the gate into the passage, between the two gates, and said to Capt. Shortland, ‘You’ll recollect you have struck me twice; and I’ll have satisfaction for it?’ Captain Shortland told him to go into the prison, or he would order the men to fire on him.”

John Odiorne, prisoner, had given evidence before the coroner. He repeated now: “I heard an order to fire, which was from Capt. Shortland as near as I could judge of any man, who had his back to me; it was Captain Shortland’s voice; he was about 100 yards from me. I am as positive as I can be under such circumstances that the order came from him. Captain Shortland appeared to be in a great passion. When entering the square he looked very red, and spoke loud; am confident there was no disposition to break out.”

Gerard Smith, prisoner, gave no material evidence.

Robert Johnson, prisoner. “I know Gatchell; I was at the gate No. 7 when Captain Shortland spoke to him. I ran directly into the gate from No. 5; at the first firing a wounded man lay about five yards from the gate. Gatchell and two or three others came up to take him away to the receiving-house. When he got into the passage, between the railings, Captain Shortland came in with two or three soldiers, and told him to go back or he would kill them; the soldiers followed. In rushing in, Capt. Shortland stumbled over the wounded man; Gatchell did not go away immediately. Capt. Shortland ordered the soldiers to charge on him; one did charge on him, and another on me. I then made my escape into the prison. I am quite sure Captain Shortland ordered the soldiers to charge. I heard no abusive language from Capt. Shortland.”

James N. Bushfield, prisoner, testified mainly to the making the hole in the wall. “I do not suppose a man in the yard knew there was arms in the barrack yard.”

William Clements, prisoner. “I heard no order to fire.... I saw Capt. Shortland in the yard, but whether it was him or the other officer who first came in I don’t know.”

John Hubbard, prisoner. “I was carrying a wounded man to the hospital. Capt. Shortland came up to me ... he ordered me to drop the man. I told him I should not, for I wanted to take him to the hospital. He gave me a crack on the neck with his fist and ordered the soldiers to charge on us; I then went back and ran in. When I got in I called to Capt. Shortland and told him ‘You will recollect, Sir, you struck me, if you are brought to account for this.’”

John Reeves, prisoner. His evidence is not particularly trustworthy, as he admitted, “I was rather groggy that evening.... I heard Captain Shortland sing out ‘Fire!’ twice.... After we were inside No. 1 prison, being mad at being pricked (with a bayonet) I flung a stone myself out at the soldiers. The soldiers had fired into the prison before I did so.”

William Mitchell, prisoner, did not hear the horn or the alarm bell.

David Spencer Warren, prisoner, who had given evidence before the coroner, now added: “I was within seven or eight feet of Captain Shortland when I heard him give orders to fire. I was inside my own prison yard and Capt. Shortland was close to the gate; that was the first firing I heard; there had been none before. Soldiers had broken up their line when Captain Shortland led them into the prison yard. Captain Shortland was at the head of them, when I heard him tell the men to fire. They did not fire the first time he said ‘Fire!’; it was about a minute afterwards before they fired. He said ‘Fire!’ three times.” He repeated his story of Shortland taking hold of the musket.

Richard Walker, private of the Derby Militia. “I heard no order to fire; first one musket was fired; it was by a sentry posted at the bottom of the square, in consequence of the prisoners abusing him. I saw this. I saw them throw no stones before, but after it was fired they did. It might be two minutes before there was firing again. As soon as the prisoners threw stones there was more firing. Don’t recollect I heard any order to fire. Heard several call out ‘Fire!’ and supposed it might be the prisoners who were calling out.... Saw Capt. Shortland come down, break through the guard, and heard him order them to cease firing.”

William Ward, private in the Derby Militia. “I came up just after (the firing had begun). Capt. Shortland, after it had continued some time, came up and ordered the soldiers to cease firing. They immediately ceased.”

Some turnkeys were examined, but their evidence was immaterial, as they were employed elsewhere or in taking the wounded to the hospital, except James Carley, who was with the bread-wagon; but he could say no more than that he saw Shortland come down “with his hands in his breeches’ pockets”; and William Wakelin, who deposed to Shortland pushing one of the prisoners (James Reeves).

John Bennett, store clerk. “I heard Captain Shortland tell the prisoners in the market-place to go back to their different prisons, and say how sorry he should be to use force.... Some minutes after a musket went off, and soon after many others. I was then so near Capt. Shortland that I am sure I should have heard it had he given the orders to fire; but I did not, nor did I hear an order from anybody. I did not see the charge.”

John Collard, sergeant of the 1st Somerset Militia, heard Shortland give the order to charge. “An order was then given to fire on them (the prisoners); I heard the word given to fire by some one; I think the word given was in my rear.... The prisoners were crying out ‘Fire!’ I could not then see Captain Shortland. I did not look out for him. I had something else to think of when the order to fire was given. Two or three men fired; immediately they obeyed the order; one musket was discharged first, and one or two very soon after.... I think the soldiers fired over their heads; then some prisoner or prisoners said, ‘You---- why don’t you fire? You have nothing but blank cartridges.’ Afterwards the firing became general, and the prisoners were driven into the yard. I heard no word of command for the second firing; the firing was not in a volley, but in small numbers at a time.... I know nothing of what happened afterwards in the prison yard.”

Stephen Lapthorn, private in the 1st Somersetshire Militia. “I heard an order given to fire, but don’t know who gave it. I can’t say whose voice it was; am not sure whether it was from the prisoners or the military.... I heard Major Joliffe give orders to cease firing.”

John Soathern, private in the Derby Militia. “We went close to the railings; my bayonet pricked them; when we got there, the prisoners began throwing stones; one stone struck me. Just then the firing commenced. After some time Capt. Shortland came in front and said, holding his hands up, ‘For God’s sake, men, cease firing.’ Captain Shortland was not near me when it commenced. The order to fire was given on the left, and it passed through the ranks one after another.”

Lieutenant Avelyne, of 1st Somerset Militia. “When I came into the Market Square with Captain Shortland the prisoners had burst No. 1 gate and were rushing through in a crowd.... Capt. Shortland went forward to speak to them.... The soldiers did not charge by my order, nor did I hear Capt. Shortland order it. I considered myself under Capt. Shortland’s orders.... I heard the first musket fired. I could not see where it was fired from.... There was at first a single shot, and almost instantly after several others were fired. I heard no distinct order to fire.... I did not go into the prison yard.”

Lieutenant Fortye, of 1st Somerset Militia. “My guard took up the firing from others without any orders.”

Cornelius Rowe, prisoner. “I saw the military come down the square and heard Capt. Shortland order them to charge.”

Thomas Tindale, prisoner. “I heard Captain Shortland give orders to fire ... he gave orders twice to fire. I was not ten steps from him when I heard him. I heard every word he said; I saw him plainly; the firing commenced by one musket first, then two, and afterwards a whole volley. The firing began when Captain Shortland gave the word the second time. I heard him tell the soldiers to fire low. He was then standing inside the muzzles of the foremost muskets. When I heard the order to fire I was about the middle of gate No. 4; the soldiers charged up to the railings and then fell back four or five paces, when Capt. Shortland gave the order to fire.”

The evidence of Captain Shortland has been already given. He denied the truth of Gatchell’s statements that he had run down the yard; and as to that of Hubbard, he would only admit that he had pushed, not struck him.

In reviewing the depositions it appears evident that the American witnesses were hostile to the Governor, and that their bitterness of feeling coloured their testimony. There is evidence that Captain Shortland entered the inner yard, though he denied it; but that Major Joliffe was there is certain, and it cannot be admitted that he acted with the promptitude that he should have displayed. It is certain that by this time the soldiers had got out of control, and it was no doubt difficult to restrain them.

Captain Shortland was not really a brutal Governor, and the barbarities of which he was accused were not barbarities at all, but the exercise of very necessary discipline. But he was lacking in capacity for such a responsible post, at such a time.

So the British Government must have considered him, for he was promoted to be Superintendent of Port Royal Dockyard in Jamaica, where he died of yellow fever in 1825.

The most thoroughly reliable authority for the “massacre” is the “Message from the President of the United States, transmitting a Report of the Secretary of State, prepared in obedience to a Resolution of the House of Representatives of the 4th inst., in relation to the Transactions at Dartmoor Prison, in the month of April last, so far as the American Prisoners of war, there confined, were affected by such Transactions,” January 31, 1816, “Read and ordered to lie upon the table,” Washington, 1816. Next come “The Prisoners’ Memoirs, or Dartmoor Prison; containing a Complete and Impartial History of the entire captivity of the Americans in England, from the commencement of the late War between the United States and Great Britain, until all Prisoners were released by the treaty of Ghent. Also a particular detail of all the occurrences relative to that Horrid Massacre at Dartmoor, on the fatal evening of the 6th April, 1815. The whole carefully compiled from the Journal of Charles Andrews, a Prisoner in England from the commencement of the War, until the release of all the Prisoners.” New York, 1815.

According to him 269 American prisoners died on Dartmoor between April, 1813, and 20 April, 1815, and twenty-one succeeded in making their escape.

Waterhouse (Henry), Journal of a Young Man of Massachusetts, confined at Dartmoor Prison. Boston, 1816.

He arrived at the Dartmoor Prison but a short while before the outbreak. His account confirms that of Andrews. He gives the Remonstrance of the prisoners on the hasty and hardly impartial manner in which the Commissioners investigated the circumstances.

The Dartmoor Massacre, by I. H. W. (Isaac H. Williamson, of New Jersey), 1815. This is, however, a mere rhymed account, based on the narrative in the Boston papers and the New York Commercial Advertiser of 6 June, 1815. “Being the Authentic and Particular Account of the tragic Massacre at Dartmoor Prison in England, on the 6th April last (1815), in which sixty-seven American sailors, prisoners there, fell the victims to the jailor’s revenge, for obtaining their due allowance of bread which had been withheld from them by the jailor’s orders.”

Melish (John), Description of Dartmoor Prison. Philadelphia, 1815.

He confirms the account of Andrews, and insists that the examination was not properly and honestly carried out; and he asserts positively that Capt. Shortland gave the order to fire.

Justin Winsor, in his Narrative and Critical History of America, has treated of the matter in a temperate spirit.

I subjoin the names of those killed and those wounded.

/Killed/: John Haywood, Thomas Jackson, John Washington, James Mann, Joseph Toker Johnson, William Leverage, and _James Campbell_.

/Wounded/: Thomas Smith, needed amputation of the thigh. Philip Ford, severely wounded in the back. John Gray, arm had to be amputated. Robert Willet Tawney, required to have the thigh amputated. James Bell, bayonet wound in the thigh. Thomas Truely, gun-shot wound in thigh and other serious injury. Joseph Beyeck, gun-shot wound in the thigh, through which the ball passed. John Willet, fractured hip and shattered upper jaw. James Esdell, gun-shot wound in the hip. Henry Montcalm, gun-shot wound in the knee. Frederick Howard, gun-shot wound in the leg. William Penn, gun-shot wound in the thigh. Robert Fittey, gun-shot wound in the penis. Cornelius Garrison, gun-shot wound in the thigh. Edward Whittlebanks, bayonet wound in the back, producing paralysis in the lower extremities. James Turnbull, amputated arm. Stephen Phipps, bayonet wounds in abdomen and thigh. James Wells, gun-shot fracture of sacrum and gun-shot fracture of both bones of the left arm. Caleb Codding, gun-shot wound of the leg. Edward Gardner, gun-shot fracture of left arm. Jacob Davis, gun-shot wound of the thigh. John Hagabets, gun-shot wound of the hip. Peter Wilson, gun-shot fracture of the hand. John Perry, gun-shot wound of the shoulder. John Peach, gun-shot wound of the thigh. John Roberts, gun-shot wound of the thigh. John Gair, amputated thigh. Ephraim Lincoln, gun-shot wound of the knee. John Wilson, bayonet wound. William Blake, bayonet wound.

The rest were not seriously wounded.

CAPTAIN JOHN PALK

In the forties and fifties no man was better known as a character in Tavistock and on the Moor than Captain Palk, or, as he was usually designated, Quaker Palk. He was a sturdy, thick-set man with a shrewd face, sharp keen eyes, and hair short cut and turning grey.

He began life as a miner on his own account at Birch Tor and Vitifer, between the Warren Inn and Moreton Hampstead. To any man travelling over Dartmoor along the main road to the latter town, crossing that portion of the Moor where rise the headwaters of the West Webburn, the aspect of the valley and hillsides must appear strange, welted as they are with old streamworks and mine-heaps. Just beyond the inn are the remains of the King’s Oven; this was the ancient Furnum Regis, the tin-smelting place, which tin was the royal due. Here there is a large pound, in one portion of the arc of which are the remains of a circle of upright stones, enclosing a cairn and the relics of a kistvaen; a beautiful flint scraper has been found wedged between the stones of the kistvaen. The oven itself has been destroyed, and the stones carried off for the construction of the buildings of Bush Down Mine, which are hard by, but are now in ruins. On the highest bit of the down is a rude ancient cross called Bennett’s Cross, with W.B. on the face, carved in modern letters, to indicate that it forms one of the boundaries of Headland Warren. It is also a boundary mark of the parish of North Bovey, and of the ground over which the rights belonging to Vitifer Mine extended. The mine works are of many ages, some very ancient, overgrown with heather and gorse bushes; others are more recent and show raw and white against the turf and heather. Above the sources of the Webburn rises Birch Tor, crowned by a grey cairn, its flanks dense with whortle bushes, that supply richer and larger purple berries than almost any Moor slope. Birch Tor is connected with Challacombe Common, a swelling hill to the south, by a neck of land that has been cut through by miners, thereby destroying the first portion of a remarkable series of stone rows leading to a menhîr. The cuttings of the searchers after tin to the west are deep, and here nest ravens to this day. The slender stream that trickles down the depression feeds the Webburn. From the neck of land can be discerned to the east the remarkable enclosure of Grimspound, pertaining to the Early Bronze period.

As already said, John Palk worked as a miner “on his own hook” at Birch Tor, and found a good deal of tin. Finding that he needed capital he induced the Davys of Cornwall, who were his kinsmen, to enter into partnership with him. Richard Davy was subsequently M.P. for Cornwall. The Davys became then possessors of the mines of Vitifer and Birch Tor. Call after call was made on them for money to develop the mines, and the returns were insignificant. They became impatient, and considered the venture unprofitable. On one occasion, when their patience was exhausted, Palk visited them, and showed as usual an unsatisfactory balance sheet, and made a demand for more money.

Richard Davy was angry, and exclaimed, “Hang it, Palk, I wish you would take the confounded business off our hands, and make what you can of it,” and they offered it to him for a ridiculously small sum.

Quaker Palk hummed and hah’d, said, “Friend, I am a poor man, and cannot raise so much, but by the blessing of the Lord I would like to try to earn a bit of bread from it to put into my mouth. Will thee not bate the price to the level of my means?”

Eventually he bought the whole rights over Vitifer and Birch Tor. This was precisely what he had been aiming at. He knew that there was plenty of tin there, but he had hitherto avoided following out the “keenly” lodes, and exploited only the poor veins.

No sooner was the right his own than the complexion of the mine altered, and he is computed to have made from £60,000 to £80,000 out of it, and he retained Vitifer and Birch Tor mines to his death. He also secured rights in Drake Walls, and he had a smelting house there and also in Crown Dale, below Tavistock on the Tavy.

Being flush of money, he erected Palk’s Buildings in Tavistock as well as several other houses, and he bought Baggator farm in Petertavy, and Narrator in Sheepstor parish.

Quaker Palk was a sturdy teetotaller, and a lecturer on the subject, but when he came out to Vitifer, he would call in at the Warren Inn, then kept by a man named Warne, himself an interesting character, and mix himself a stiff glass of grog. On one occasion he had taken out with him Mr. John Pearce of Tavistock, and they entered the tavern. Pearce noticed that Captain Palk, in helping himself to brandy, put his hand round the glass, to hide the quantity he poured in, but when the brown liquid rose above his palm, Mr. Pearce stared and uttered an exclamation.

“Ah, John Pearce,” said Palk, “I tell thee that the Warren Inn is the highest public-house in all England, and one must live up to one’s elevation.”

On his return to Tavistock he would as likely as not appear on a platform and harangue on total abstinence.

The story is told, I believe, of Captain Palk, that on his marriage he opened a drawer, drew out a pair of breeches, flung them to his wife with, “Molly, put them breeches on.”

“Why, John, be thou mazed?”

“I tell thee, thou hast sworn to obey. Put them on this moment.”

After some further remonstrance and hesitation, the wife complied.

“How dost thou think they fit thee, Molly?”

“Why, John, not at all.”

“Then, Molly, never thee try to wear ’em, as long as we are together. The breeches pertain to me, and to me only.”

In driving to Vitifer one winter’s day, the snow came on, and on mounting Merripit Hill he and his horse were exhausted, and could no longer face the snow-laden blast, and he drew aside into a sand-pit that opened on to the road. The snow accumulated, a drift was formed, and they would have been buried, had not some miners passing come to the rescue and extricated him and his trap and horse.

He had some stout Moor men working under him. Joe Hamlyn had mined at Birch Tor for seventy-five years in 1864. Jacob German had been on the same works for sixty years, and had left them only once, and that for a single month to do navvy’s work on the line to Moreton from Newton Abbot.

Palk liked a hare, when he could get one, and Jacob could generally provide him with one.

“Oh, Jacob,” Palk would say, “I hope thou hast not been poaching.”

“Poaching!” Jacob would exclaim; “Lord, sir, if a hare runs across the road, I may knock un on the head, I reckon, and no one say nort.”

“I should like to know just where it was--as a study in nat’ral history.”

“Well, if you must know, Cap’n, it were in Buckland-on-the-Moor, Squire Bastard’s woods.”

“I dare say, friend, it will be all the fatter and better eating.”

In these Buckland Woods larch grew finer than almost anywhere else in England, and the timber was obtained thence for Vitifer and Birch Tor mines. Some forty years ago, as much as a hundred and twenty feet of timber was got out of a single tree.

“Well,” said Palk, “I’ve had Squire Bastard’s larch wood and obliged him. The trees grew too thick. Hares there too thick. It’s a favour to him to thin them out for me. One hand washes the other.”

Palk was an assiduous attendant at the Quakers’ Annual Meetings, both in Devon and in Cornwall. That of Cornwall was held at S. Austell, and it fell at the time when the hay was cut, and that was frequently wet, so that a rhyme was commonly repeated to caution the farmers:--

Now varmer, now varmer, Take care ov your hye. For ’tes the Quakkers’ gurt meetin’ to-dye.

At one of these gatherings, when the monthly advices to the members were being read out, and there was one specially enjoining forbearance from “vain sports,” up rose a lately-joined member, and with an anxious voice inquired what these vain sports embraced. “Now,” said he, “Do’ee reckon that kissing the mydens (maidens) in the hye (hay) be a vain sport?--vor my part I can’t see it.”

There was unquestionably a vast amount of roguery in the mining business in Devon and Cornwall. Salting a mine, so as to induce capitalists to embark their money in one, was by no means an uncommon practice. But occasionally a specialist was too sharp to be taken in. “Ah!” said one, handling the ore that professed to have been raised in a new mine on Dartmoor, “Carnbrea tin. How the dickens did that find its way up here?”

Originally the tin was worked by a small company of adventurers with very simple machinery, and the adventurers shared the profits among themselves. The tin lodes on Dartmoor are thin, and in my opinion and in that of those who know best, will never pay for expensive working with costly plant. But little men, working for themselves, have made mining pay there. The abandoned engine-houses, huge wheels, and stamping pans show where large ventures have everywhere proved to be failures.

Chaw Gully, that runs up between Birch Tor and Challacombe Down, is one of the most interesting examples of “old men’s workings” that there are upon Dartmoor. It extends about half a mile. In places it is some forty feet deep, and two or three hundred feet wide. In the bottom are several circular shafts, lined with stones dry-laid, which communicate with a dip formerly used for drainage purposes. There are no “jumper” marks on the rocks in Chaw Gully. In following the shallow lode of tin the old adventurers must have torn out the rock with wedges. Sometimes fire was applied to the rock and then water was dashed on it to crack it; as softened by the heat it was more easily worked. Another system of splitting the granite was to cut a groove on the surface of the rock, fill that with quicklime, and then throw on water. The swelling of the lime rent the rock.

The old works in Chaw Gully were taken in hand by Captain Palk, who deepened and successfully worked a shaft there. A good deal of money was made, but “the eyes of the mine were picked out,” and it is now, like nearly all the Dartmoor mines, a “knacked bal,” a picture of desolation, and the ravens now build in the chasm, on a ledge of the rock.[54]

Palk was intimate with Jonas Coaker, the “Poet of the Moor,” as he styled himself. His poetry was, however, only rhyme, and that often bad.

“What’s the difference between poetry and blank verse?” asked one miner of another.

“Why, the difference be this,” was the reply. “Ef you say,

He went up to the mill-dam And falled down slam,

that, I reckon, be poetry. But ef you say instead,

He went up to the mill-dam And falled down wop,

that’s blank verse. Knaw now, do ’ee?”

This was Jonas Coaker’s conception of poetry. He was born at Hartland, Post Bridge, on 23 February, 1801, as he sang:--

I drew my breath first on this moor; There my forefathers dwell’d. Its hills and dales I’ve traversed o’er, Its desert parts beheld.

As a young man he worked on the Moor building new-take walls, and he esteemed himself almost as highly in this capacity as in knocking out verse. Later he became taverner of the Warren Inn, that at that time stood on the opposite side of the road to its present position. The miners frequented it, and they were rough customers, drinking hard, fighting and dancing. On one occasion they broke out into mutiny against Jonas, because he would serve out no more drink; they drove him from the house, and he was compelled to “hidey-peep,” as he termed it, on the Moor, whilst they emptied his barrels. On another occasion two miners fought in the tavern, with a fatal result for one of them, but the survivor was let off with three weeks’ imprisonment, mainly on Jonas’s evidence, for he was able to establish gross provocation.

In an evil hour for himself, Jonas pulled down the old inn and built, at his own cost, the new Warren Inn on the opposite side of the road. Now it happened that the old inn had been on common land of the parish of North Bovey, but where he had built the new inn was on Duchy property. Down on him came the agent for the Duchy, but not till the house was complete, and the last slate nailed on, and said to him, “Now you are on Duchy land you shall pay rent for the inn you have built on our land, without our gracious permission.”

Towards the end of his life Jonas became very infirm and blind; his memory began to fail, and he accounted for this by saying that as he had always possessed a genius for poetry, he supposed he had overwhelmed his brain with too much study. He died on 12 February, 1890, and is buried at Widdecombe. I say no more of him here, as I gave his life and stories about him in my Dartmoor Idylls, 1896. There is as well a memoir with his portrait in Mr. Burnard’s Pictorial Records, already quoted.

After having made such success with his mines about the Upper Webburn, Quaker Palk became reckless in his speculations, and was soon heavily involved. He was kept on his feet by Mr. Bailey, of Plymouth, and Joe Matthews, who bought Palk’s holding of Birch Tor Mine. He died suddenly 9 February, 1853, aged fifty-nine years.

I think, but cannot be sure, that it was of John Palk that the story was told of two old folks, returning from the funeral, when one said to the other, “Sure and he was a very charitable man.”

“I reckon he were,” replied the other. “He always had three eggs boiled to his breakfast, and gave away the broth.”

His wife survived him thirty-one years, and died in Plymouth 24 May, 1884, aged eighty-five years.

RICHARD WEEKES, GENTLEMAN AT ARMS AND PRISONER IN THE FLEET

In the parish of South Tawton, about three miles from the village and church, and midway on the west road to North Tawton, stands the ancient and interesting mansion of North Wyke.[55] A house so named was there as early as 1243,[56] but experts are at variance as to the age of the several parts of the existing structure. It formed an inner court, two sides of which were stables and offices, and a front court enclosed within high walls, and with gate-house, porter’s lodgings, and domestic chapel. Though the house itself lies in a somewhat sheltered situation, the drive down from the lodge commands a lovely prospect; and from the top of North Wyke Quarry a panorama of three-quarters of a circle extends over miles of undulating country, from the blue sky-line of Exmoor to the three conspicuous heights of the north-east angle of Dartmoor--Yes Tor, Belstone, and Cosdon--the last crowned with a cairn from which beacon fires have flared out many a warning message to arm against a foe, both before and since the coming of the Armada. From Belstone Cleave bursts forth the river Taw that borders the North Wyke lands for fully a mile and a half of its course. After rushing in foaming stickles from under Peckettsford alias Packsaddle Bridge, but before reaching Newlands Weir, the river is joined by a meeker stream that bounds North Wyke on another side. There is said to have been much fine timber on the land before the alienation of the estate, the story of which may now be related.

In the history of the ancient family of Weekes, of North Wyke, and its cadet house of Honeychurch and Broadwood Kelly, Richard Weekes, of Hatherleigh, of the latter branch, comes upon the scene at North Wyke in the character of the villain of the piece!--a crafty interloper, who ousts those of the rightful line from their inheritance. He makes a gallant appearance and brings with him some of the glamour of the Restoration Court, for he was a member of “the Honourable Corps of Gentlemen at Arms,” or, as they were then called, “Gentlemen Pensioners” of Charles II--a band of “fifty gentlemen of blood and fortune” who formed the King’s nearest guard.

Richard was not, indeed, possessed of any estate; but he was related to the Grenvilles, Stukeleys, and other influential families. He probably learned the trade of arms under his father, Francis Weekes, of Broadwood Kelly, who in 1635 commanded the 2nd Regiment of trained soldiers of the North Division of county Devon.

Possibly his uncle, Dr. John Weekes, Dean of Burian, chaplain to the Duke of Buckingham, or Dr. Jasper Mayne, the Court playwright (a native of Hatherleigh), may have had a hand in his promotion.

The Merry Monarch was, however, a bad paymaster; and Richard focussed a covetous gaze on the North Wyke property. The owner was a sickly youth, ill qualified to cope with the entanglements of debts and mortgages with which his father and grandfather, in their devotion to the Royalist cause, had encumbered the estate. His mother and sister, both strong-willed women, wielded masterfully the reed they could not lean upon. Richard ingratiated himself with them, and making much of his alleged “near relationship,” which they afterwards repudiated, and which does not appear to have been established, seems to have persuaded them that their own interests, and the desire of the childless young John, that North Wyke should continue in the name of Weekes, could best be served by inducing the said John to constitute him, Richard Weekes, his heir, on condition of giving the mother an annuity of £100, and the sister a marriage portion of £2000, besides paying young John’s debts, amounting to £5000, and his funeral expenses.

Now the rightful heir was young John’s uncle, John Weekes of Blackhall, but he had mortally offended Mistress Weekes immediately on her widowhood, by contesting with her both the care of her children and the custody of the family deed-box.

This latter he had violently raided, though he is said to have soon returned it undespoiled, and without having mastered its contents, he being “a man of very slender understanding in matters of the law.” But “his specious pretence to do his nephew good and undertake his tuition,” had been vehemently rejected by the mother, to whom it may have occurred that if little John and his sister were to be confided to their grasping uncle’s control, such another tragedy as that of the Babes in the Wood might stain the annals of Dartmoor!

Mistress Weekes who, as Mary Southcote, had married before the settlements were executed, had received no jointure. She could expect no generosity from uncle John, and was naturally anxious about her future.

She accordingly preferred--in both senses--Richard’s claim, and--apparently by mutual understanding--the deed by which young John’s grandfather had entailed the estate on the heirs male was suppressed.

In the summer of 1661, young John being evidently in a rapid decline, was persuaded to ride to Plymouth to be treated by Dr. Anthony Salter, and his son-in-law Dr. William Durston, Richard’s cousin. When young John was in Salter’s house, another cousin of Richard’s, a barrister, was introduced, and by his advice--and it is more than insinuated under undue pressure--on 29 August John signed a conveyance of his estates on the prearranged lines, to Salter and Durston as trustees on behalf of Richard Weekes of Hatherleigh and his heirs for ever. But John had sufficient wit to insist upon endorsing the settlement with a clause giving him power of revocation.

Shortly after the execution of this deed, at his urgent request, John was carried home to North Wyke on a horse-litter, accompanied by Richard of Hatherleigh, Dr. Durston, and others, and three days later, i.e. on or about 1 September, he departed this life. By that time, the attitude of Katherine Weekes, the sister of John, had undergone a complete volte-face. This defection may safely be attributed to the treacherous influence of Dr. Salter, who, having seen North Wyke, evidently thought that it might as well come into his family as go to Richard Weekes; for at this period he began to make strenuous efforts to bring about a marriage between Katherine and his son, and she, it is said, “did entertain his son to be a suitor.” The plan was now to secure the whole estate to herself. She accordingly declared that young John had always promised that she should be his heir, and that on his death-bed he had repented of his conveyance to Richard, and had by word of mouth, in the presence of several witnesses, revoked it.

Scarcely was the breath out of the body of young John, says one deponent, before she drew from beneath his pillow a “portmantea” containing the said writing, and concealed it with intention to burn it; but Richard came upstairs into the room where she was with this deponent and others, and took it from where it was hidden, “and did keep the same.” Thus was war openly declared between Richard Weekes on the one side, and his quondam confederate Salter and Katherine on the other.

The funeral did not take place till three weeks after the decease, a fact somewhat remarkable, but not extraordinary.[57] To do Richard justice, he had the funeral conducted with all the pomp befitting the old position of the family, and “was at about £400 or £500 charges over it.”

On “the day after the day of the funeral,” i.e. on Sunday, 22 September, Richard proceeded in a very practical manner to take possession. A company of fifteen or sixteen persons, mostly relations of the deceased, had been invited by him to sup in the hall, and scarcely was the meal over when Richard, proclaiming that he was “now to do the Divell’s work and his own,” rose, and drawing his sword, commanded all to quit the house, saying that, as God was his judge, if they did not presently depart he would run them through. Several resisted, including Mr. Richard Parker, of Zeal Monachorum, Katherine’s trustee, whose brother, Edmund Parker, of Boringdon (ancestor of Lord Morley) she eventually married. Katherine, her mother, and the other ladies endeavoured to return to their chambers, but Richard Weekes, with bared sword, stood in the doorway of the parlour, from which room the stairs ascended to that part of the house in which the deeds were kept, and swore that he would suffer no one to go up the said stairs. On Katherine’s making a second attempt to do so, he “threw her violently on the ground upon her head.” Mr. Parker, seeing this done in the presence of a justice of the peace, Alexander Wood, of North Tawton, rightly apprehended that he was a partisan of Richard, and determined to ride off in quest of a more impartial justice.

Stepping out of the house in his “pantables” (pantoufles, slippers) to get his horse in readiness, and returning to the hall door for his boots, Parker was refused admittance, “and his boots denied to be delivered to him, although he desired they might be delivered to him out of the window, so that he was forced, having been indisposed that day, and by that means in his pantables, to take his servant’s boots, which he caused to be pluckt off on purpose.”

Richard then turned the guests out into the dark, many of whom, “though gentlewomen of quality,” were forced to sleep “at mean houses, and some to lie in hay-lofts.” But Katherine, her mother, and grandmother were allowed to sit up all night in the hall. At about midnight, to their dismay, Katherine and her companions heard Richard Weekes and his myrmidons go up the stairs and smash open, “with hatchet and iron bar,” the locked doors of her own chamber and of the muniment-room.

Among the “writings” that Richard thus got hold of was the deed of entail, which was her last weapon against him, albeit a double-edged one that might be turned against herself, since by virtue of that deed the estates should revert to the inimical uncle John.

In the morning Richard finally ejected the ladies, and barred the house doors against them.

The story of the legal proceedings that ensued is too long and too complicated for these pages, but may be summed up in the moral that “possession is nine points of the law.” Katherine and her mother obtained a judgment against Richard for detention of their personal effects, etc., for £900, plus costs, which sum he never paid. He perhaps counted on immunity from imprisonment by reason of his position in the King’s service. From a “State paper” it appears that the Earl of Cleveland, Captain of the Gentlemen Pensioners, was applied to for leave to arrest Richard, at the suit of his creditors, and refused permission; notwithstanding which Richard was arrested and committed to the Fleet Prison for debtors. From the moment of his incarceration all resentment of Richard’s iniquities may well be quenched in compassion, so grievous were the sufferings and degradations undergone by the inmates of those noisome and infectious precincts.

The old Fleet Prison was destroyed by the Great Fire of London on 4 September, 1666; and Richard was probably among the prisoners who were temporarily accommodated in Caron House, South Lambeth, and conveyed back to the Fleet on its re-erection, 21 January, 1668. But--though it may seem somewhat audacious to controvert on this point the deposition of his own son--he did not die therein. A “Coram Rege Roll” of the King’s Bench, dated 22-23 Charles II, bears record that Richard Weekes, of North Weeke, in county Devon, was then in custody for debt to one William Jolly, to whom he had given a bond for £40. Now the prison pertaining to the King’s Bench at that time became the Marshalsea Prison in 1811. It adjoins the burial-ground of St. George’s in the Borough; and in the registers of that church, under Burials, 5 February, 1670-1, is “Richard Week’s, /K.B./” His relations declare that he “died not worth a groat,” and that a “gathering” (i.e. a collection) was made to defray the expenses of his funeral.

The demands of poetic justice are met by the fact that Richard Weekes, though virtually possessor of North Wyke, never reaped a penny from it. All that it brought in was consumed by the lawyers and his creditors; and Chancery suits between the several claimants to the estate were waged over it down to the eighteenth century.

The rightful line of Weekes proprietors had ended in John, the wrongful line ended in another John, Richard’s grandson, who is accused of having practised the “black arts,” and who, after a roving life, was buried at Lezant in Cornwall. The little boys of the neighbourhood, ever since his time, have found his tombstone a convenient surface for the game of marbles; but there is a crack in it through which one of these treasures occasionally disappears, so that the cry has become traditional, “There goes another down to old Weekes!” This John sold North Wyke, in consideration of an annuity, to George Hunt of North Bovey, who had married his sister Elizabeth, and Hunt’s grandsons divided the property and house into two, and sold the eastern moiety to one Tickell, of Sampford Courtenay, and the western, in 1786, to one Andrew Arnold, yeoman. Thus North Wyke was completely alienated from the race that had built and, for many centuries, had owned it. It has, however, returned by purchase to one of the old blood (on the distaff side), the Rev. William Wykes-Finch, who, by his extensive restorations and additions, is giving the time-worn place a fresh start in local history.

/Ethel Lega-Weekes./

STEER NOR’-WEST

I have seen a water-colour drawing made by a great-aunt of mine, Miss Marianne Snow, of Belmont, near Exeter, of Torquay before it was “invented” and turned into a fashionable winter residence and watering-place. It was a quiet fishing-village, consisting of a few cottages, under richly wooded hills.

In one of these cottages, at the close of the eighteenth century, at the time when this water-colour was made, lived a sailor named Robert Bruce.

Bruce is not a Devonshire name, and we may shrewdly suspect that he was a Browse, and that his shipmates called him by the better-known Scottish name, which sounds almost identical with Browse. The Browses formed a considerable clan about Torquay and Teignmouth. But whether of Scotch origin or not, he was a native of Torquay. When he reached the age of thirty he became first mate of a ship sailing between Liverpool and St. John, New Brunswick. On one of these periodical voyages westwards, after having been at sea six weeks, and being near the Banks of Newfoundland, the captain and mate, after having taken an observation, went below into the cabin to calculate their day’s work.

The mate, Robert Bruce, absorbed in his reckonings, which did not answer his expectations, had not noticed that the captain had risen and left the cabin as soon as he had completed his calculations. Without raising his head, he called out, “I say, cap’n, I make the latitude and the longitude to be so-and-so. Not what it ought to be. What is your reckoning?”

As he received no reply, he repeated the question, and glancing over his shoulder and seeing, as he supposed, the captain figuring on his slate, he asked a third time, and again without eliciting a reply. Surprised and vexed, he stood up, and to his inexpressible astonishment saw that the seated man, engaged on the slate, was not the captain, but an entire stranger. He noted his features and his garments, both wholly different from those of his superior officer. At the same moment the stranger raised his head and looked him full in the eyes. The face was that of a man he had never seen before in his life. Much disturbed, he slipped up the ladder, and seeing the captain, went to him, and in an agitated voice told him that there was a total stranger in the cabin, at the captain’s desk, engaged in writing.

“A stranger!” exclaimed the captain. “Impossible! You must have been dreaming. The steward or second mate may have gone down for aught I know.”

“No, sir; it was neither. I saw the man occupying your arm-chair. He looked me full in the face, and I saw him as plainly as I see you now.”

“Impossible!” said the captain. “Do you know who he is?”

“Never saw the man in my life before--an utter stranger.”

“You must be gone daft, Mr. Bruce. Why, we have been six weeks at sea, and you know every man Jack who is on board.”

“I know that, sir; but a stranger is there, I assure you.”

“Go down again, Mr. Bruce, and ask his name.”

The mate hesitated. “I’m not a superstitious man,” said he; “but, hang it, I don’t relish the idea of facing him again alone.”

“Well, well,” said the captain, laughing, “I don’t mind accompanying you. This is not like you, Bruce, not like you at all--you’re not in liquor. It is a mere delusion.”

The captain descended the stairs accompanied by the mate; and, sure enough, the cabin was empty.

“There you are, convicted of dreaming,” said the former. “Did not I tell you as much?”

“I can’t say how it was, sir,” replied Bruce, “but I could take my oath on the Gospels that I saw a man writing on your slate.”

“If he wrote, there must be something to show for it,” said the captain, as he took up the slate, and at once exclaimed, “Why--good God! there is something here. Is this your fist, Mr. Bruce?”

The mate examined the slate, and there in plain, legible characters stood the words “/Steer to the Nor’-West/.”

“You have been playing tricks,” said the captain impatiently.

“On my word as a man and a sailor, sir,” replied Bruce, “I know no more about this matter than just what I told you.”

The captain mused, seated himself, and handing over the slate to the mate, said, “You write on the back of this slate, Steer to the Nor’-West.”

Bruce did as required, and the captain narrowly compared the two writings; they differed entirely.

“Send down the second mate,” he ordered.

Bruce did as required. On entering the cabin, the captain bade him write the same words, and he did so. The handwriting was again different. Next, the steward was sent for, as also every one of the crew who could write, and the result was the same. At length the captain said, “There must be a stowaway. Have the ship searched. Pipe all hands on deck.” Every corner of the vessel was explored, but all in vain. The captain was more perplexed than ever. Summoning the mate to attend him in the cabin, and holding the slate before him, he asked Bruce what he considered this might mean.

“That is more than I can say, sir,” replied Bruce, “I saw the man write, and there you see the writing. There must be something in it we don’t understand.”

“Well,” said the captain, “It does look like it. We have the wind fine, and I have a good mind to keep her away and see what comes of it all.”

“If I were in your place, sir, that is what I would do. It’s only a few hours lost, at the worst.”

“It shall be so. Go and give the course Nor’-west, and, Mr. Bruce, have a good look-out aloft; and let it be a hand you can depend upon.”

The mate gave the required orders; and about 3 p.m. the look-out reported an iceberg nearly ahead, and shortly after, that he observed a vessel of some sort close to it. As they approached, by aid of his telescope, the captain discerned a dismantled ship, apparently wedged into and frozen to the ice, and he was able to distinguish a good many human beings on it. Shortly after, he hove to, and sent out boats to the relief of the sufferers.

The vessel proved to be one from Quebec, bound to Liverpool, with passengers on board. She had become entangled in the ice, and finally frozen fast, and had been in this condition for several weeks. She was stove in, her decks swept, and was, in fact, a mere wreck. All her provisions and almost all her water had been consumed, and crew and passengers had despaired of being saved, and looked out for a watery grave. Their gratitude for this unexpected deliverance was proportionately great.

As one of the men, who had been brought away in the third boat that had reached the wreck, was ascending the ship’s side, the mate, catching a glimpse of his face, started back in astonishment. He recognized the identical face that he had seen in the cabin, three or four hours before, looking up at him from the captain’s desk. When the man stood on the deck, Bruce examined him closely. Not only was the face the same, but in person and dress he corresponded exactly with his vision.

So soon as the exhausted crew and passengers had been fed and cared for, and the bark was on her course again, the mate called the captain aside, and said, “That was no ghost, sir, that I saw this morning. The man is here, alive, and on board our boat.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sir,” said Bruce very gravely. “One of the passengers we have just saved is the very same person that I saw writing on your slate at noon. I would swear to the identity in any court of justice.”

“This is becoming more strange and inexplicable every minute,” said the captain; “let us go and have a look at the man.”

They found him in conversation with the captain of the derelict vessel, when both expressed their warmest gratitude for deliverance from a terrible fate, either starvation and exposure, or drowning should the iceberg capsize.

The captain replied that he had done no more than was his duty, and that he was quite sure that they would have done the same for him under similar circumstances; and then he requested both to step down with him into his cabin.

When that was done, turning to the passenger he said: “Will you excuse the liberty I am taking with you, if I desire you to write a few words on the slate?”

“Certainly I will do so,” said the passenger. “What shall I write?”

“Nothing more than this: Steer to the Nor’-West.”

The passenger looked amazed and puzzled; however, he held out his hand for the slate. This the captain extended to him, with that side uppermost on which Bruce and the crew had written, and which writing he had effaced with a sponge. The man wrote the required words. The captain took back the slate, stepping aside whilst the passenger was not observing, turned the slate over, and presented it to him, with the side uppermost on which was the mysterious inscription.

Tendering the slate again to him, he said: “You are ready to swear, sir, that this is your handwriting?”

“Of course it is; you saw me write.”

“Look at it attentively and make sure that it is the same.”

“I have no doubt about it. I make my s in the midst of a sentence in the old-fashioned way, long. And there it is, attached to the t at steer and west.”

“And this also?” asked the captain, turning the slate over.

The passenger looked first at one writing, then at the other, quite confounded. “I don’t understand what this can mean,” said he; “I wrote the words once only. Who wrote the other?”

“That, sir, is more than I can say. My mate informs me that you wrote it, sitting at my desk at noon to-day.”

“That is impossible. I was on the wreck miles away.”

“I saw you there writing it, as distinctly as I see you now,” put in Bruce.

The captain of the wreck turned to the passenger, and said: “Did you dream that you wrote on a slate?”

“Not that I can recall,” replied he.

“Now you speak of dreaming,” said the skipper, “may I inquire what the gentleman was about at noon to-day?”

“Captain,” said the other, “he had become greatly exhausted, and fell into a heavy sleep, some time before noon, and remained in that condition for over an hour. When he awoke he said to me, ‘Captain, I am confident that we shall be relieved this very day.’ When I asked him his reason for so saying, he replied that he had dreamt that he was on board a vessel, and that he was convinced she was coming to our rescue. He described her appearance and outward rig, and, to our astonishment, when your vessel hove in sight, she corresponded exactly to his description. We had not, I must admit, much confidence in his assurance. As it has happened, it looks uncommon like as if Providence had interfered to save us in a very mysterious manner.”

“There can be no doubt about that,” replied the other captain. “It is due to that writing on the slate, however it came about, that all your lives are saved. I was steering at the time considerably south of west, and I altered my course to nor’-west, on account of the writing on the slate.” Then, turning to the passenger, he inquired, “Did you dream of writing on a slate?”

“Not that I am aware of. I have no recollection of that; but I may say that everything here on board seems to me familiar; yet I am certain that I was never in your vessel before. It is very perplexing. May I ask what your mate saw?”

Thereupon Bruce related the circumstances already detailed.

The above extraordinary account was related to Mr. Robert Owen, formerly American Minister at Naples, by Captain J. S. Clarke, of the Julia Hallock, a schooner trading in 1859 between New York and Cuba, who had received it directly from Robert Bruce himself. They sailed together for nearly two years, in 1836 and 1837; so that Captain Clarke had the story from the mate about eight years after the occurrence. Bruce after that became master of the brig Comet, trading to New Brunswick, and she was eventually lost at sea, and Bruce is believed to have perished in her.

In reply to a question as to the character which Bruce bore for uprightness, Captain Clarke replied: “As truthful and straightforward a man as ever I met in my life. We were as intimate as brothers; and two men can’t be together, shut up for nearly two years in the same ship, without getting to know whether they can trust one another’s word or not. He always spoke of the circumstance in terms of reverence, as of an incident that seemed to bring him nearer to God and to another world than anything that had ever happened to him in his life before. I’d stake my life upon it that he was speaking the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, in the very extraordinary account which I have related to you just as he delivered it to me.”

Such is the story, and it is much to be regretted that there is no confirmation or other testimony from the two captains, or from any others who were in the vessel.

It is given by the Rev. Bourchier Wrey Savile, in his Apparitions: a Narrative of Facts. London, 1874.

GEORGE PEELE

Peele, a poet and dramatist, was a Devonshire man by birth, but of no family of consequence in the county, as the name does not once occur in the Heralds’ Visitations, either as a family entitled to bear arms or in the alliances of such. He became a student of Christ Church, Oxford, about the year 1573, where he studied to good effect and took his Master’s degree in 1579. Although he unquestionably studied, yet he also spent his spare time in revelry. He was always hard up for money, and was quite unscrupulous how he procured it. On one occasion, but later, when in middle life, he was riding to Oxford on a borrowed horse, and stayed the night at Wycombe, where the landlady of the inn was a great woman for herbs and nostrums of all sorts for the cure of every kind of disease. George Peele fell in with her humour, admired her prescriptions, and said:

“I am a doctor and surgeon myself, and am on my way to visit a gentleman of large estate in Warwickshire, who is fallen into a consumption.”

“Why--bless my heart,” exclaimed the hostess, “our squire here is very bad, and supposed to be in a consumption. The surgeons have given him up.”

Next morning at daybreak away runs the good-natured woman to the Hall, rouses the squire’s wife, and tells her that a notable London doctor is staying at her inn. The lady at once penned a note, entreating the learned leech to visit her husband; and the hostess carried this to Peele and urged him to visit the patient.

George was taken aback, he had not meant his words to be taken au grand sérieux, and he tried to get out of the visit, but a servant from the great house arrived to conduct him to it, and Peele went with him. On his arrival he was gratefully received by the squire’s wife, who conducted him to her husband’s room. George felt his pulse and temples, and shook his head: “He is far spent,” said he, “but under Heaven, I will do him some good, if nature be not quite extinct.” He then asked to be shown into the garden, where he cut a handful of every flower and herb and shrub the garden contained, brought them into the house in the lappet of his cloak, boiled them in ale, strained them, boiled them again; and when he had all the juice out of them, made a hot draught and bade the patient drink a cupful, and ordered the wife to administer the same to the squire morning, noon, and night, and to keep the sick man warm. Then when he took his leave the lady pressed into his hand a couple of brace of angels, or about forty shillings. Away went Le Médecin malgré lui to Oxford, where he roystered so long as the money lasted. Then he had to return to London and by the same way, and was not a little shy of showing in Wycombe, for he did not know but that some of the herbs he had boiled and administered might be poisonous, and have killed the gentleman. So, as he approached the place, he inquired of a country bumpkin how the gentleman was. The fellow told him, that his good landlord, Heaven be praised, had been cured by a wonderful doctor who had come that way by chance.

“Art thou sure of this?” quoth George, “Yes, believe me,” answered the man; “I saw him in fields this morning.”

George Peele now set spurs to his horse, and rode to the inn, where he was cordially received: the hostess clapped her hands; the ostler laughed; the tapster leaped; the chamberlain ran to the gentleman’s house, and told him of the arrival of the doctor. The squire sent for Peele at once, and forced him to accept twenty pounds for having cured him of his consumption. But whether the cure was the result of some herbs that chanced to go into the pot, or was due to the confidence the sick man had in the science of George Peele, none can say.

George Peele took up his residence in London, on the Bank side, over against Black Friars, and picked up a livelihood by writing interludes, and the ordering of pageants. Anthony à Wood says that his plays were not only often acted with great applause in his lifetime, but also did endure reading, with due commendation, after his death. He was a voluminous writer, and would turn his hand to any kind of literary work. On one occasion a gentleman from the West Country engaged him to translate some Greek author into English for him. During the process of the work, Peele applied repeatedly to his patron for advances; but the more Peele was supplied with coin, the slacker he became in his work, and at last the gentleman lost all patience with him. Next time Peele called with the usual request for an advance, he was invited to stay for dinner. During the meal, George incautiously let out that he had not done a line of translation for two months. The gentleman, very incensed, ordered his servants to bind the author hand and foot into a chair. This done a barber was sent for, and by order of the gentleman shaved Peele’s chin, lip, cheeks, and head, and left him as bare of hair as he was of money.

“George,” said the gentleman, “I have always used you as a friend; my purse hath been open to you; you know that I highly value the book I committed to you to translate, and I want it done. I have used you in this fashion so as to force you to stay at home till the translation is completed; for I know you will be ashamed to show in the streets the ridiculous figure you now are. By the time the book is done, your beard will have grown again.” Then he put in his hand forty shillings, detained him till nightfall, and sent him home.

Next morning there was a hubbub in the street, crying and shouting, and a mob collected. The gentleman looked out of his window, and saw a girl with dishevelled hair, wringing her hands and screaming, “Oh! my father! my good--my dear father!” and the people around were clamouring to know what was the matter. Then the girl burst forth into “Woe to this place, that my dear father ever saw it! I am now an orphan, a castaway, and my mother a widow.” The servants of the gentleman came upstairs to him in concern, saying that George Peele’s daughter was on the doorstep calling down imprecations on the house and all within. The gentleman in a mighty quaking sent for the girl, who came in sobbing and crying. When she saw him she screamed, “Out on thee! thou cruel man! Thou hast made my father--my good father--drown himself.” Then she fainted. The gentleman was in serious alarm. He sent his servants at once to buy a new and smart suit of clothes for the girl, as the best way to console her, and gave her five pounds; then, as she recovered, he bade her return home, and tell her mother that he would visit her in the evening.

The gentleman was so crossed in mind, and disturbed in thought at having involuntarily caused a man to commit suicide, that his soul could not be quiet till he had seen the woeful widow. So towards evening he hired a boat and was rowed from the Old Bailey, where he lived, to Black Friars, and went directly to Peele’s house, where he found the wife plucking larks, the orphaned daughter turning the spit, and George, pinned up in a blanket, hard at work at the translation. The gentleman, more relieved at the sight of Peele alive and well than grieved at being cheated out of his money, accepted George’s invitation, and gull and gulled had a merry supper together off roast larks and canary.

One day Peele invited half a score of his friends to a great supper, where all was passing merry; no cheer was lacking; there was wine flowing and music playing. As the night was passing a reckoning was called for. The guests, being well-to-do citizens, insisted that Peele should not treat them all. He, as they were well aware, was not well off, so they threw down their contributions to the feast--some two shillings, some five, some more. “Well,” said George, “as you seem so determined I will submit,” and he gathered the money into his cloak. “But,” said he, “before we part, let us drink a couple of bottles of hippocras and have a caper.” Whilst all were taking the final draught and dancing about the room, George Peele decamped with the contributions, and left his guests to pay the reckoning.

Peele and four of his companions supping together found that they had spent all their cash, save five pounds between them. Holiday time was come, Whitsuntide, and it must be enjoyed, but how was enjoyment to be had for five mates, for four or five days, on five pounds? “I have it,” said Peele. “Trust your money to me, and I will go to the Jew clothes dealer, get a handsome black satin suit and good boots, and you must all be put in livery and pass as my servants.”

Thus costumed, and taking a pair of oars with them, the party ascended the Thames to Brentford, where they entered the inn of the “Three Pigeons.” George called for the host, said he was a big squire in Kent, and that he had come up the river to make merry at Brentford. And he thereupon ordered supper and wine, and paid down out of the money he had in hand.

At dinner, Peele asked the host about the tide. When he heard that the tide did not set out till evening, “Confound it,” said he, “I intended to stay here a few days, but I have not money enough with me to pay. I want to send a lackey to London for a bag of ten pounds that have not seen the sun and begun to melt. Have you a horse?” “Certainly I have,” answered the taverner, “and I can lend it your man.”

Accordingly, one of the good comrades was mounted and sent off to London. Presently in came the hostess with a petition. One of Mr. Peele’s lackeys had been at her to beg his master to allow him to go as far as Kingston to visit a sweetheart he had there. If Mr. Peele would allow him to go he would promise to be back by nightfall.

“How can he?” asked George: “the distance is too great--if he runs, he cannot do it.”

“For the matter of that,” replied the landlady, “I have a mare, and will lend it him.”

“Very well, let the rogue go.”

So away went the fellow with the mare, but not to Kingston--he rode to London, where he met his fellow on the landlord’s other horse. George Peele now sent for the barber to do his hair, and he was to mind and bring his lute with him. In Queen Elizabeth’s time a lute was one of the necessary bits of furniture of a barber’s shop.

The man arrived, and Peele entreated him of his courtesy to leave the lute with him, that he might amuse himself with it in the evening. The barber consented, and departed. George was now left alone with two of his comrades, and he bade them clear out of the house speedily. Then going down into the court he looked at the clouds, and complained of the weather. He was inclined for a stroll. Thereupon the hostess fetched her husband’s best holiday cloak. George thanked her for the loan, called for a cup of sack, tossed it off to success to the “Three Pigeons,” and walked away--to the river where his comrades were awaiting him, and they rowed down to London, where they all met, and sold the horse and the mare, the gown and the lute.

Anthony Nit, the barber, was not satisfied to lose his lute, made inquiries, and found out who had cheated him of it; and pursued George Peele to Town and lighted on him in an alehouse in Seacoal Lane. Peele was shabbily dressed in a worn green jerkin, and had on his head a Spanish platter-fashioned hat, and was then engaged on a peck of oysters. George was not a little abashed at the sight of the barber, but showed no signs of being disconcerted. On the contrary he at once said, “My honest barber, welcome to London. I partly know your business; you come for your lute, do you not?” “Indeed, sir,” quoth Anthony Nit, “that is the purpose of my coming.”

“And believe me,” said Peele, “you shall not lose your labour; I pray you fall to and eat an oyster, and I will go with you presently; for a gentleman in the city, a man of great worship, borrowed it of me for the use of his daughter. But, sir, if you will go along with me to the gentleman’s house you shall have your lute. Had you not come to reclaim it I assure you I would have sent it to you; for you must understand that all that was done at Brentford among us mad gentlemen was but a jest.”

Then Peele said to Barber Anthony, “I really am not in a fit costume to appear in a gentleman’s house. I pray you let me have your cloak and hat, and you put on my green jerkin and the Spanish hat. I doubt, accoutred as I am, that I would be allowed admittance.” The barber agreed, and changed garments with Peele, who led him to an alderman’s house, and knocked at the door, and asked to see the master. Peele was well known there as master of the revels and overseer of the pageants, and was readily admitted.

“Porter,” said he, “let my friend remain with you till I have done my business with the master.”

“Certainly,” said the porter, “and he shall take a small dinner with me.”

Peele was shown into the alderman’s room, and he said to him, “I want you to do me a favour. There is a bum-bailiff in your hall, who has me under arrest for a little sum. Allow me to slip out at your garden door unperceived.” The alderman laughed and consented. So Peele evaded in the cloak and hat of the barber, who failed to get them as well as his lute.

Here is a specimen of manners in the reign of Elizabeth. Peele was invited to supper at the White House in Friday Street, London, by some of his friends. On his way he met an old comrade who was “down on his luck” and had not a shilling wherewith to get his supper.

“I wish that I could take you with me, but I cannot,” said George. “I am an invited guest, and besides, you are in rags. However, I will get you a supper if you will do what I bid.”

Whilst seated at the entertainment, his needy friend pushed into the room and made up to Peele.

“You scoundrel,” shouted the latter, “what are you doing here?”

“I pray you, sir, hear my errand,” pleaded the man.

“Not I, you slave; get you gone!” and snatching a roasted rabbit from the dish, he threw it at him.

“You use me very rudely,” said the man.

“You dunghole--will you outface me!” roared Peele, and snatching up a second rabbit threw it at his head, and then a loaf. After that he drew his dagger and made as though he would stab the man, but his friends interposed. The fellow picked up the rabbits and the bread and ran away with them. So, by this shift, Peele helped his friend to a supper, and was not suspected by the company.

Peele’s Merry Conceited Jests was first published in 1607. Other editions appeared in 1626, 1627, 1657, and 1671. There is also an undated edition. The latest reprint is in Bullen’s Works of George Peele, London, J. C. Nimmo, 1878.

His Merry Conceited Jests shows him to have been a great rogue. That he was a clever man and well educated is undoubted. He wrote several plays, but only some have been preserved, such as The Arraignment of Paris, 1584; The Old Wives’ Tale, 1595; Edward I, 1593; David and Bathsheba, 1599; The Turkish Mahomet and Hiren the Fair Greek, not published at the time. The Battle of Alcazar has been already mentioned. He also composed pageants that were performed at the inauguration of the chief magistrates of the city of London. One composed for Sir Wolstone Dixie, Lord Mayor of London, 29 October, 1595, is curious, as it describes the flourishing condition of the metropolis in the days of Queen Elizabeth. About 1593 Peele seems to have been taken into the patronage of the Earl of Northumberland, to whom he dedicated in that year The Honour of the Garter. In The Puritan, a play attributed but erroneously to Shakespeare, and acted by the children of S. Paul’s, printed in 1607, is a character, George Pieboard, that was meant to be George Peele. Peele died before the year 1598, and left behind him a widow and a daughter.

In 1591 Queen Elizabeth visited Theobalds. Lord Burleigh had lost his mother in 1587, and his wife, to whom he was deeply attached, in 1589; and his daughter, Lady Oxford, had also expired, and depressed by his misfortunes, he retired in 1591 to Theobalds. Queen Elizabeth, to revive his spirits, visited him there; and Peele was commissioned to write the speeches delivered by Robert Cecil, dressed as a hermit, and others, to be addressed to the Queen. Besides the hermit, another performer was the gardener, and a third the molecatcher. The latter begins, “Good Lady, and the best that ever I saw, or any shall, give me leave to tell a plain tale in which there is no device, but desert enough,” and it ends, “Now, for that the Gardiner twitteth me with my vocation, I could prove it a mystery not mechanical, and tell a tale of the Giant’s daughter which was turned to a mole because she would eat fairer bread than is made of wheat, wear finer clothes than is made of wool, drink sweeter wine than is made of grapes; why she was blind, and yet light of hearing; how good clerks told me that moles in fields are like ill subjects in commonwealths, which are always turning up the place in which they are bred. But I will not trouble your Majesty, but every day pray on my knees that those that be heavers at your state may come to a mole’s blessing--a knock on the pate and a swing on a tree.”

PETER PINDAR

John Wolcot, who published his poems under the sobriquet of Peter Pindar, was perhaps the most scurrilous poet in a scurrilous age. If this were a book of Minor Worthies of Devon, I should hesitate about admitting one who was in nothing worthy, but possessed wit caustic and cutting. He was as witty and not so coarse as Swift; witty but not so terse as Pope, and also without Pope’s fine touch.

John Wolcot was the fourth child of Alexander Wolcot by Mary Ryder his wife, and was born at Dodbrooke by Kingsbridge, baptized 9 May, 1738. His father was a country surgeon and the son of a surgeon. The Wolcot family was ancient; it had its origin at Wolcot in Thrushelton, where a moor still bears the name of Wollacot from a farm near by; the heiress of the eldest branch carried Wollacot to the family of Bidlake of Bidlake. A junior branch settled at Chagford, where “John Wolcot for his good service in ye Warres had an addition given him to his Armes, on Chief or, a lis betw. 2 Annulets.” One branch had a residence at Butterstone in Hemyock, where it remained for several generations. The lineal descent of John Wolcot, son of Alexander, from the heraldic family of that name has not been made out, but there can be little doubt that he was so descended.

Alexander Wolcot died 14 June, 1751, and John was left to the care of his uncle, John Wolcot, of Fowey. He was educated at the Kingsbridge Grammar School, and afterwards at Liskeard and Bodmin. In or about 1760 he was sent to France for a twelvemonth to acquire French. He does not seem to have been comfortable there, and he retained through life a distaste for the Gallic people:--

I hate the shrugging dogs, I’ve lived among them, ate their frogs.

It was decided that he should be a surgeon, as had been his father and grandfather before him, and he went in 1762, to London, and lodged with his maternal uncle, Mr. Giddy, of Penzance. In 1764 he returned to his uncle at Fowey, with whom he lived as assistant till 1767. On 8 September of this year he graduated M.D. at Aberdeen.

Wolcot was connected, it is not clear how, with Sir William Trelawny of Trelawny, Bart., and on Sir William’s appointment in 1767 as Governor of Jamaica, Wolcot was, by his influence, appointed to accompany him as physician. Sir William had succeeded to the baronetcy in 1762, on the death of his cousin Sir Harry Trelawny. Sir Harry had married his cousin Letitia, daughter of Sir Jonathan Trelawny, and Sir William married Letitia, daughter of Sir Harry and Letitia. There was a saying--

Trelawne, her course ’mid cousins run, Shall weep for many a first-born son,

and when Captain William fell in love with his cousin Letitia he and she knew that their union would be strongly opposed, indeed certainly forbidden, by her parents. Accordingly he prevailed on her to marry him in private, and this was done by her disguising herself in male attire, and being married to him privately one evening in the church, she dressed as a boy.

In Jamaica Wolcot found that there was but little opportunity for him to earn much by his profession, and Sir William proposed to him to take Holy Orders, so that he might appoint him to the rich benefice of S. Anne in the island. Wolcot, without the smallest vocation for Orders, looking only to the monetary value of the living, practically a sinecure, returned home in 1769 and was ordained deacon 24 June in that year, and priest on the following day, by the Bishop of London. Thus equipped he returned to Jamaica in March, 1770, hoping to find the incumbent of S. Anne’s dead--he had left when the man was ailing. But to his vast disgust the rector of S. Anne’s had taken on a new spell of life, and did not at all see his way to vacate the fat benefice to oblige Wolcot. John Wolcot was now given the incumbency of Vere, but lived most of his time in the Governor’s house, leaving a hired deputy to perform the duties of his cure.

Finding that there was little prospect of getting S. Anne’s he threw aside his Orders, reverted to his profession, and was appointed Physician-General to the troops on the island 21 May, 1770. He lived on terms of close friendship with the Trelawny family, where his broad humour, his sarcastic sallies, and his witty stories made him a delightful companion at the table over the wine.

“I was invited,” said he, “to sup with a rich planter and his wife. During the repast, my friend desired a female slave in waiting to mix some toddy, on which the black girl, in her peculiar way, asked him if it was ‘to be drinkey for dry, or drinkey for drunkey.’ When our supper was ended, and our water being exhausted, the planter sent his wife a short distance from the house for a fresh supply. The thunder and lightning being excessive during her absence, I said to him, ‘Why did you not send that girl (the slave) for water on such a night as this, instead of exposing your wife to the storm?’ ‘Oh, no,’ replied he, ‘that would never do. That slave cost me forty pounds.’”

Miss Anne Trelawny was not a little simple and credulous, and Wolcot delighted in hoaxing her. On one occasion, he informed her that a cherub had been caught in the Blue Mountains, and had been put in a cage with a parrot. Before morning, unhappily, the parrot had pecked out the eyes of the poor cherub, all which the lady believed as an indisputable fact. “The Nymph of Tauris,” which was printed in the Annual Register for 1773, was written by Wolcot on the death of this young lady, which occurred in Jamaica.

Sir William Trelawny also died in Jamaica on 11 December, 1772, whereupon Wolcot obtained leave from the new Governor, Dalling, 20 February, 1773, to return to England, accompanying Lady Trelawny, and it was thought not improbable by some that the lady would dry her tears and take Wolcot as her second husband, but death put an end to this scheme, if ever entertained, as she died in the month of August ensuing.

Dr. Wolcot had now entirely dropped his clerical character. He settled at Truro, where he established himself with a view to practising as a doctor. His peculiar treatment, which consisted in giving his fever patients doses of cold water, and his openly proclaimed opinion that a physician did more harm than good by cupping, bleeding, clystering, and by the administration of boluses and draughts, as also that the only good he could effect was by nudging on Dame Nature in the back when slow in recovering the sick, raised a storm against him among his fellow practitioners, and involved him in disputes. Polwhele speaks highly of his medical abilities. “I can say with truth that he had the credit not only of a skilful, but of a benevolent physician. In fevers, he was uncommonly successful. From consumption many were rescued by his hand who had been given up as irrecoverable. As a physician he prescribed medicines; he did more, he examined them, not trusting to the apothecary; and sometimes detected with indignation a cheap medicine substituted for a costly one. He was no favourite with the apothecaries and druggists of the place; but his merit, bearing all before it, showed the impotence of their resentment.”

He quarrelled also with the Corporation of Truro, and when that body attempted to avenge the lampoons he had written upon their vindictive management in planting parish apprentices on him, he removed to Helston in 1779, leaving behind him a characteristic letter: “Gentlemen, your Blunderbuss has missed fire.--Yours, John Wolcot.”

At Truro he had been allowed to drop in occasionally at Polwhele, but the old Mr. Polwhele was always uneasy with him at table, lest he should launch out into gross and unseemly jests and tales.

From Helston he moved to Exeter, practising, but meeting there with small success. At Exeter he made the acquaintance of William Jackson, the organist of the cathedral, and composer, and for him he wrote songs to set to music.

Owing to the success of his songs, Wolcot shifted to London in 1778, to devote himself wholly to the Muse. He took with him young Opie, whose abilities he had recognized; and it really was a token of great good nature that he endured the society of that “unlicked cub of a Carpenter Opie,” as Polwhele calls him, “who was seen now ludicrously exhibited by his keeper, Wolcot,--a wild animal of St. Agnes, caught among the tin works. Not to pick his teeth with a fork at dinner-time, nor at breakfast to ‘clap his vingers’ into the sugar-basin, etc., were instructions of Wolcot at a subsequent stage of Opie’s life when breakfast-rooms and saloons and drawing-rooms were thrown open to his excellence.

“At his first setting out at Falmouth, where it was Wolcot’s pride to exhibit him, he collected upwards of thirty guineas; and Wolcot was one day surprised to see him rolling about on the floor, where a quantity of money lay scattered. ‘See here (says Opie), here be I, rolling in gold.’”

Wolcot had never cared for his profession of medicine, and he was glad to shake it off. And now young Opie was ready for making his way in Town. Wolcot had first become acquainted with the young painter at the house of Mr. Zankwell, at Mithian, in 1775; he took him to his own house at Truro, provided the necessary material, gave him instructions and advice, for Wolcot himself handled the brush and palette, and when fully satisfied with the developing genius of Opie, persuaded him to move with him to London in 1781. An agreement was entered into between him and his protégé, by which both were to share equally in the profits made by the artist by the sale of his pictures. This was not an arrangement likely to last. Wolcot very highly estimated, and justly so, the advantage he had been to Opie, not only in providing for his artistic training, but also by getting him orders in Town; but Opie, as his fame grew, and his prices rose, was reluctant to continue the bargain and halve his profits with Wolcot. The origin of the quarrel is sometimes attributed to Opie’s having passed disparaging criticism on some of Wolcot’s paintings; but this was, if it took place, only one element in the contention that caused a final breach. Wolcot had indeed laid the foundation of Opie’s success, by introducing him to Mrs. Boscawen, and extolling his merits in verse.

Speak, Muse, who formed that matchless head, The Cornish Boy, in tin mines bred; Whose native genius, like diamonds shone In secret, till chance gave him to the sun? ’Tis Jackson’s portrait--put the laurel on it.

In 1782 appeared “Lyric Odes to the Royal Academy, by Peter Pindar, Esq., a distant relative of the Poet of Thebes, and Laureat of the Academy.” They were clever and discriminating. Wolcot recognized the splendid genius of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the merits of Gainsborough and Wilson. He made merry over a picture by Gainsborough in the Academy that year; but it was good-humouredly done.

And now, O Muse, with song so big, Turn round to Gainsborough’s Girl and Pig, Or Pig and Girl I rather should have said; The pig is white, I must allow, Is really a well-painted sow: I wish to say the same thing of the maid.

The success of these lyrics was immediate, and induced Wolcot to continue the publication in 1783, 1785, and 1786. Having hit out at the Academicians and finding that this paid, he now struck at higher game. He knew that any miserable back-stairs gossip about the King and the Court would be greedily devoured. There was in London and in the country a sentiment of Jacobitism. The cause of the Stuarts was dead as Herod, but the prejudice against the House of Hanover continued strong. The German proclivities of George I and George II, who never liked England and the English, had alienated even those who sympathized with the claims of the House of Hanover. The simple life of George III, without state, with little dignity, and so homely as not to appeal to the imagination of the people, served as an admirable field for ridicule. There is not any evidence that Peter Pindar personally hated the King, and that his politics were anti-Hanoverian or anti-royal. He attacked the King and Court because he knew it would pay--that was his main inducement, another was equally unworthy. He hoped that the Government would give him some sinecure office, or some bribe in money to silence his slanderous tongue.

He began his assault on the private life of the King in the Lousiad, a poem in five cantos, the first four published in 1785, and the last in 1795. The subject was disgusting. It turned upon the King having discovered a specially nasty parasitical insect on his plate, and on thereupon ordering the shaving of the heads of his cooks and scullions, grooms of the kitchen, servants of the pantry, etc., to the number of fifty-one. A young man in the kitchen, John Bear, refusing to submit to this indignity, was dismissed his place.

The subject was inexhaustible, and these attacks on Royalty sold and brought in much money. Accordingly he worked indefatigably at it. He was supplied with plenty of information by the favourites of the Prince of Wales, who himself relished these attacks upon his father.

Peter Pindar jeered at the King’s little note-book in which he dotted down his observations.

Now Majesty, alive to knowledge, took A very pretty memorandum-book, With gilded leaves of asses’ skin so white; And in it lightly began to write:-- Mem. A charming place beneath the grates For roasting chestnuts or potates. Mem. ’Tis hops that give a bitterness to beer-- Hops grown in Kent, says Whitbread, and elsewhere. Queen. Is there no cheaper stuff? where does it dwell? Would not horse-aloes do as well? Mem. To try it soon on our small beer-- ’Twill save us sev’ral pounds a year. Mem. To remember to forget to ask Old Whitbread to my house one day.

* * * * *

To Whitbread now deigned Majesty to say, “Whitbread, are all your horses fond of hay?” “Yes, please your Majesty”--in humble notes, The Brewer answer’d--“also, Sir, of oats; Another thing my horses too maintains, And that, an’t please your Majesty, are grains.” “Grains, grains,” said Majesty, “To fill their crops? Grains? Grains?--that come from hops--yes, hops, hops, hops?” Here was the King, like hounds sometimes at fault-- “Sire” cry’d the humble Brewer, “give me leave Your sacred Majesty to undeceive: Grains, Sire, are never made from hops, but malt.” “True,” said the cautious Monarch, with a smile; “From malt, malt, malt--I meant it all the while.” “Yes,” with the sweetest bow, rejoined the Brewer. “An’t please your Majesty, you did I’m sure.” “Yes,” answered Majesty, with quick reply, “I did, I did, I did, I, I, I, I.”

Peter Pindar scoffed at the parsimony of George III. He scoffed at his personal appearance, his simple tastes, his attempt to enforce respect for the Sunday, his admiration for the music of Handel, above all his patronage of Benjamin West.

E’en with his painter let the King be blest; Egad! eat, drink, and sleep, with Mister West.

Let the Court, the fashionables, the vulgar populace admire West and purchase his wretched pictures, Peter will have none of him or of them. Then he tells an amusing tale of a Toper and the Flies. A group of topers sat about the table drinking punch. Flies joined the party, sipped the grog, fell by hundreds into the bowl.

Wanting to drink--one of the men Dipp’d from the bowl the drunken host, And drank--then taking care that none were lost, He put in ev’ry mother’s son agen. Up jump’d the bacchanalian crew on this, Taking it very much amiss-- Swearing, and in the attitude to smite: “Lord!” cry’d the man with gravely lifted eyes, “Though I don’t like to swallow flies, I did not know but others might.”

The Queen had removed the cartoons of Raphael from Hampton Court to St. James’s, and had them cut down so as to fit the place which she designed them to occupy. This exasperated Peter to the last degree: it reminded him of a cutting story. In the last war the French prisoners died by scores, and the Mayor of Plymouth to accommodate a first cousin, a carpenter, gave him a contract for their coffins. The carpenter, thinking to save some pence on each coffin, made every one too short; and so as to accommodate the dead to the receptacles made for them, cut off the heads of the deceased prisoners and tucked them en chapeau bas under their arms.

To a Devonshire man one of the most amusing compositions of Peter Pindar is an account of the royal visit to Exeter in 1788, supposed to be written by a farmer of Moreton Hampstead to his sister Nan:--

Now meend me, Nan! all Ex’ter town Was gapin’, rennin’ up and down, Vath, just leek vokes bewitch’d! Lord! how they laugh’d to zee the King; To hear un zay zum marv’lous thing! Leek mangy dogs they itch’d.

Leek bullocks sting’d by appledranes (wasps), Currantin’ it about the lanes, Vokes theese way dreav’d and that; Zum hootin’, swearin’, scraimin’, bawlin’! Zum in the muck, and pellum (dust) sprawlin’; Leek pancakes all zo flat.

On the occasion of the visit of the King, Queen, and the Royal Princesses, the Bishop of Exeter, John Ross, begged to be excused the honour of entertaining Majesty--the palace was not roomy enough, he was infirm, and so on; accordingly their Royal Highnesses were received by Dean Buller at the Deanery. Ross seems to have been a screw, and he dreaded the expense of entertaining Royalty. It was said of him that when his clergy were entertained by him there was no wine on the table, and they begged to be allowed to taste “his charming water.” The King and Royal Family went to the cathedral for Morning Prayer, after which Dean Buller showed them over the church; the King looked about

And zoon beginn’d to speak; Zo zaid, “Neat, neat--clean, very clean; D’ye mop it, mop it Measter Dean; Mop, mop it every week?

Wolcot adds in a note that the King actually did make this observation at Exeter, as well as at Salisbury some years later.

The royal entry into the city is most humorously described, and Mr. Rolle’s active attention to the King is hit off:--

Wipin’ his zweatty jaws and poull All over dust we spy’d Squire Rolle, Close by the King’s coach trattin’: Now shovin’ in the coach his head, Meaning, we giss’d, it might be zed, The Squire and King be chattin’.

Now goed the Aldermen and May’r, Zum wey cropp’d wigs, and zum wey hair, The Royal Voke to ken; When Measter May’r, upon my word, Pok’d to the King a gert long sword, Which he pok’d back agen.

It had been hoped that the King would make the round of the city and visit the Guildhall and Castle, but he declined to do this. The Mayor and Alderman had proposed a sumptuous repast at the Guildhall for His Majesty, but he declined to attend, much to their disappointment.

But this a did--now this was kind-- Knowin’ the people’s longing mind, And being pretty tall, A stude ’pon tiptoes, it is zed; And, condescending pok’d his head Over the Bishop’s wall.

Zum of the Ex’ter vokes suppose They plainly zeed his royal nose, And zum his royal eyes; And, Lord! whatever peart they zeed, In this they one and all agreed, ’Twas glorious, gert, and wize.

There is a rollicking swing about the whole composition, which keeps the narrative going like the steady onward pace of a racing eight-oar.

The conclusion at which Jan Ploughshare arrives is vastly droll:--

Theeze once I’ve made myzelf a vool And now I feel my courage cool For zeeing Royal things; And whan my Bible next I read,-- Zo leet I worship all the breed, I’ll skep the Book of Kings.

But among offensive things written on George III, perhaps the most offensive is his “Letter from Brother Peter to Brother Tom,” in which he contrasts the Prince of Wales with his father. In this and in his “Expostulary Odes” he treats the vices of the Prince as virtues--an obvious bid made for his favour. The good old King’s homely ways are drawn in the Letter with a pen dipped in gall, whereas it is plunged in honey for the Prince.

Whene’er he hunts, the Monarch is thrown out, As in his politics--a common thing! With searching eyes he stares at first about, Then faces the misfortune as a king. Hearing no news of nimble Mister Stag, He sits like Patience grinning on his nag. Thus, wisdom-fraught, his curious eye-balls ken The little hovels that around him rise: To these he trots--of hogs surveys the styes, And nicely numbers every cock and hen. Then asks the farmer’s wife or farmer’s maid, How many eggs the fowls have laid. What’s in the oven--in the pot--the crock; Whether ’twill rain or no, and what’s o’clock. Thus from poor hovels gleaning information, To serve as future treasure for the nation. There, terrier-like, till pages find him out, He pokes his most sagacious nose about; And scenes in Paradise--like that so fam’d; Looking like Adam too, and Eve so fair; Sweet simpletons! who, though so bare, Were (says the Bible) not asham’d. No man binds books so well as George the Third. By thirst of leather glory spurr’d, At bookbinders he oft is seen to laugh-- And wond’rous is the King in sheep or calf! _But see! the Prince upon such labour looks Fastidious down, and only readeth books. Here by the Sire the son is much surpast; Which fame should publish on her loudest blast!_ The King beats Monmouth-street in cast-off riches; That is, in coats, and waistcoats, and in breeches; Which, draughted once a year for foreign stations, Make fine recruits to serve some near relations. _But lo! the Prince, shame on him! never dreams Of petty Jewish, economic schemes! So very proud (I’m griev’d, O Tom, to tell it) He’d rather give a coat away than sell it!_ Fair justice to the Monarch must allow Prodigious science in a calf or cow; And wisdom in an article of swine. What most unusual knowledge for a King! Because pig-wisdom is a thing In which no Sov’reign e’er were known to shine. _Yet who will think I am not telling fibs? The Prince, who Britain’s throne in time shall grace, Ne’er finger’d, at a fair, a bullock’s ribs, Nor even ogled a pig’s face! O dire disgrace! O let it not be known That thus a Father hath excell’d a Son._

Peter Pindar spared few. Pitt he hated, because he had not bribed him; Sir Joseph Banks, Boswell--fair game--Hannah More, Bishop Porteus, who had ventured in a sermon to speak highly of Hannah; James Bruce, and many another.

To Lady Mount Edgcumbe he wrote a consolatory stanza on the death of her favourite pig.

O dry that tear, so round and big; Nor waste in sighs your precious wind! Death only takes a single Pig-- Your lord and son are still behind.

In 1793, Wolcot sold the copyright of his public works to J. Walker for an annuity of £200, and it was stipulated that any future work should be offered to the same publisher.

On this occasion he craftily overreached the publisher. When Walker made the proposition to the doctor by letter it was with an offer of an annuity of two hundred pounds. Wolcot replied by appointing the publisher to call on him, that day week. He received him in deshabille, even in his nightcap; and, from having purposely abstained from shaving for four days, together with the naturally cadaverous complexion, his appearance was unhealthy; added to which, he assumed a hollow sepulchral cough. Walker had determined not to make any advance on the sum he had named, but when the doctor was again taken with a fit of coughing he was induced to make it two hundred and fifty pounds. This Wolcot peremptorily refused, and was seized with an attack of coughing that nearly suffocated him. The publisher, thinking it impossible that he could last long, agreed to make the annuity three hundred. But some time after, Pitt having passed a Bill through both Houses to restrain such libellous writings as those of Peter Pindar, the publisher, considering that the restraint thereby imposed would militate against his profits, filed a bill in Chancery against him, and got the sum reduced to two hundred. Wolcot was furious, and vowed vengeance against Walker, which he eventually accomplished, by living nearly twenty years afterwards.

But he presently met his match, William Gifford, also a Devonshire man; in his “Anti-Jacobin,” Gifford fell upon the poet, and in a review of his life called him “his disgustful subject, the profligate reviler of his Sovereign and impious blasphemer of his God.” Peter Pindar was quite unable to stand his ground against Gifford, whose “Epistle to Peter Pindar” was savage and caustic in the extreme (1800).

Lo, here the reptile! who from some dark cell, Where all his veins in the native poison swell, Crawls forth a slimy toad, and spits and spews The crude abortions of his loathsome muse On all that genius, all that worth holds dear-- Unsullied rank, and piety sincere.

* * * * *

Lo, here the brutal sot! who drench’d with gin, Lashes his wither’d nerves to tasteless sin; Squeals out (with oaths and blasphemies between) The impious song, the tale, the jest obscene; And careless views, amidst the barbarous roar, His few grey hairs strew, one by one, the floor.

* * * * *

Oh! check, a moment check, the obstreperous din Of guilty joy, and hear the voice within; The small, still voice of Conscience, hear it cry: An atheist thou mayst live, but canst not die.

* * * * *

For me--why shouldst thou with abortive toil, Waste the poor remnant of thy spluttering oil In filth and falsehood? Ignorant and absurd! Pause from thy pains, and take my closing word; Thou canst not think, nor have I power to tell, How much I scorn and loathe thee--so--Farewell.

Wolcot was so infuriated that he sought to meet Gifford. They happened to meet in Wright’s shop in Piccadilly in the same year in which the epistle had appeared. A scuffle ensued, in which Wolcot was the aggressor, and got the worst of it. Peter retaliated with “A Cut at a Cobbler,” but it fell flat.

The Prince of Wales, that “First Gentleman in Europe,” had encouraged Peter, and is said to have had the poet’s proof sheets forwarded to him before publication. Peter had licked the Prince’s dirty boots, and hoped for his reward. But when the Prince became Regent he cooled towards the savage yet servile poet, and the indignant Peter gave vent to his feelings of disappointment and resentment in a poem in 1811, “Carlton House, or the Disappointed Bard.”

In Wolcot’s later years his sight was affected, and in May, 1811, he was almost totally blind. He still, however, continued to write and publish. Four volumes of his works had been published by Walker in 1794, a fifth was added in 1801. He died 14 January, 1819, in Somerstown, and was buried 21 January, in S. Paul’s Church, Covent Garden. By his own expressed wish, his coffin was placed beside that of Samuel Butler, author of Hudibras.

In appearance Wolcot was “a thick, squat man, with a large dark and flat face, and no speculation in his eye.” His portrait, by Opie, is in the National Portrait Gallery, where is also a miniature of him by Lethbridge.

He was never married. Indeed, he flouted at marriage. He was a sensualist. In an “Apology for Keeping Mistresses” he wrote:--

O Love! for heaven’s sake, never leave my heart; No! thou and I will never, never part: Go, Wedlock, to the men of leaden brains, Who hate variety, and sigh for chains.

When Wolcot sought to be sentimental, he was unreal. One piece does show real tenderness of feeling, and that must be given in conclusion, to show that he had a glimmering now and then of better feelings than spite, envy, and resentment.

The old shepherd’s dog, like his master, was gray; His teeth all departed, and feeble his tongue; Yet where’er Colin went, he was follow’d by Tray. Thus happy through life did they hobble along.

When fatigued on the grass the shepherd would lie For a nap in the sun, ’midst his slumbers so sweet, His faithful companion crawl’d constantly nigh, Placed his head on his lap, and lay down at his feet.

When winter was heard on the hill and the plain, And torrents descended, and cold was the wind, If Colin went forth ’midst the tempests and rain, Tray scorned to be left in the chimney behind.

At length in the straw Tray made his last bed; For vain, against death, is the stoutest endeavour-- To lick Colin’s hand he rear’d up his weak head, Then fell back, clos’d his eyes, and, ah! clos’d them for ever.

Not long after Tray did the Shepherd remain, Who oft o’er his grave with true sorrow would bend; And, when dying, thus feebly was heard the poor swain, “Oh bury me, neighbours, beside my old friend.”

DR. J. W. BUDD

The Budd family was one of tenants under the earls of Bedford in Goodleigh, Landkey, and Swymbridge parishes. Parkham and Newton St. Petrock also contained Budds, the name occurring in the registers as far back as 1563. The name does not occur in the Heralds’ Visitation of Devon as of a family possessing a right to bear arms. Nor does the name occur in Lysons’ Devon. A Budd was Master of Caius College in the time of James I. John Turnarine Budd lived at Tancreek, in the parish of St. Columb Minor. His father before him, the Rev. Richard Budd, was perpetual curate of St. Columb Minor, and married Gertrude, daughter of John Turnarine. He died in 1787. John Turnarine Budd was the father of Samuel Budd, educated at Truro Grammar School. Samuel settled as a doctor at North Tawton, and there brought up his nine sons, all intended by him for the medical profession. Five of them went to Cambridge, every one of whom became a Wrangler, and four obtained fellowships. The most famous of these was William Budd, born in 1811, who died in 1880. On one occasion typhoid fever broke out in North Tawton, and caused many deaths. Dr. Budd at once divined the cause; indeed, he was the first man thoroughly to trace the fever to its source, and he persisted in his urgency to have the water supply thoroughly overhauled, and, succeeding, put a stop to the fever. He published a work on typhoid fever in 1873, and proved beyond dispute how it originated, how it was communicated, and how alone it could be arrested. When the terrible rinderpest broke out in England in 1866, Budd was loud in his recommendations of “a poleaxe and a pit of quicklime” as the true solution of the difficulty, and although derided at first, this view was ultimately and successfully adopted.

Rarely has a whole family proved so able--and, what is more, proved the excellence of a home education, where the father is competent to give it. Samuel Budd, the surgeon of North Tawton, managed to teach his nine sons himself in the intervals of his professional calls; and he taught them so well that not one of his sons but made his mark in the world.

Samuel, the eldest son, was born in 1806. He was one of the seven who embraced the medical profession. He became a member of the College of Physicians in 1859. He died, aged seventy-nine, in 1885. George was born in February, 1808, and became a Fellow of the College in 1841. He died in March, 1882. Richard was born in April, 1809, became a Fellow of the College of Physicians in 1863, and died in February, 1896. William has been already mentioned.

John Wreford, the subject of this memoir, was born in 1813, practised at Plymouth, and died 11 November, 1873. The other sons were Charles Octavius, Fellow of Pembroke College, Cambridge; Dr. Christian Budd, of North Tawton; and Francis Nonus, born 1823, became eighth Wrangler in 1846, Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, called to the Bar, Lincoln’s Inn, 1848, practised as barrister for many years at Bristol, bought a little property at Batworthy, Chagford, on the Teign, where he made a fine collection of flint weapons and tools found in his fields, where was once a “station” for their manufacture.

Doctor John Wreford Budd, as already said, practised in Plymouth. He was a man of rough manners, blunt and to the point in all he said. When Roundell Palmer was electioneering in Plymouth in 1847 he stayed with Budd, who was very proud of his guest. Meeting Mr. William Collier in the street, he stopped him, and without any preliminaries said: “Can your cook make soup as clear as sherry? Mine can, sir--soup like that every day, whilst Mr. Palmer was staying with me.”

Another time, when he had some friends to lunch, there was some delay. He took out his watch, placed it before him on the table, and turning to Mrs. Budd, said: “What a thing this onpunctuality is! If it be not brought to table in two minutes, I’ll dra’e it all out at the window,” spoken in the broadest Devonian dialect.

A gentleman writes: “An excellent cook came to us from the service of Dr. Budd. She was epileptic, and the Doctor’s violence increased her trouble. With us she remained for many years until age made her unfit for work. She told me that once preparations were well advanced for a dinner party, when the Doctor came down to the kitchen, as was his wont. She had been plucking a brace of pheasants, and some blood from the beaks had stained her apron. This defilement roused the Doctor to such frenzy that he seized and flung out of the window or smashed up all the prepared dishes. As the guests were due to arrive very shortly, Mrs. Budd, in a state of distraction, sent all over the town for such cold joints, sweets, etc., as could be obtained from hotels, confectioners, and other caterers. With this scratch meal she was obliged to regale her guests, without being able to explain the reason of the novelty. But some inkling of the truth came to be known or was guessed by her visitors.

“Dr. Stewart, of Plymouth, told me one day that a friend of his passing Dr. Budd’s house was startled by the sudden descent of a leg of mutton in the street, flung out of the window by the irate Doctor because either somewhat over-or underdone.

“Dr. Budd would often, when giving a dinner party, rise at the conclusion of the first courses, saying ‘I shan’t take any sweets,’ would go to the fireside and fill a long ‘churchwarden’ clay, then, leaning against the mantelpiece, calmly smoke and join in the conversation of the guests as they continued at table.

“He was a tall, heavily-built man, with a full, high-coloured face, not intellectual in appearance, and with warm brown hair and side whiskers.”

He was out shooting one day with Mr. Calmady. A pheasant rose, and both men raised their guns, and the bird came down like lead.

“That’s my burd,” shouted Budd.

“I really think not; I am sure I brought it down,” said Mr. Calmady.

“It’s my burd, I zay. I’ll swear to it. Never missed in my life, any more than blundered in my profession. It’s mine.”

“Very well. Yours it shall be.”

Up rose another pheasant. Each hastened to load, when it turned out that the Doctor’s gun had not been discharged at all.

A gentleman writes me: “My mother remembers travelling by train in the same carriage with the Doctor. Two other men also got in; and one, who may have been the worse for liquor, began grossly to insult the other; whereupon the Doctor interfered and took the part of the insulted man. ‘What business is this of yours?’ shouted the offender. At this moment the train drew up in the Plymouth station. Dr. Budd jumped out, turned up his sleeves, squared his fists, and shouted, ‘Now then, you blackguard, I’ll show you what I have to do with it,’ and knocked him down on the platform.”

A friend took Budd out in his yacht. As the vessel skimmed through the smooth waters of the Sound--“He’s a fool, a cursed fool,” said Budd, “he who has the means and don’t keep a yacht.”

Presently the boat shot out beyond the breakwater, and began to pitch. Budd turned livid, and his lips leaden. “He’s a fool, a cursed fool,” said he, after he had stooped over the side, “he who, having the means, keeps a yacht; and he’s a cursed fool who, having a friend that has a yacht, allows himself to be over-persuaded to go out with him.”

Mrs. Calmady was in a very poor way. The doctors had bled her and allowed her only slops, and the poor lady was reduced to death’s door. As a last resource Dr. Budd was called in. “Chuck the slops away, and chuck the doctors after them, with their pills and lancets,” roared Budd. “Give her three or four glasses of champagne a day, a bowl of beef-tea every three hours, beefsteaks, mutton-chops, and oysters.”

In fact, Dr. J. W. Budd broke through the wretched system that prevailed of bleeding and giving lowering diet for every kind of malady, which was the Sangrado system of the day.

A girl was shown to him in a sort of box, almost like a coffin. He had been called in to examine her, and he said that he would undertake to cure her if she were taken to his house and his treatment were not interfered with.

“But, oh! Doctor,” said the mother, “dearest Evangeline can eat nothing but macaroons.”

“In--deed!”

“And, oh! Doctor, she cannot bear the light; and the shutters have to be kept fast, and even the blinds down. The least ray of light causes her excruciating pain.”

“Ha! Humph!”

“And, Doctor Budd, she cannot stand; she lies always in that box; and, what is more, she can’t speak, only moans and mutters.”

“I understand. Send her to me.”

So the box was brought. To accommodate it a hearse was hired--no cab or carriage would contain it in a horizontal position.

The chest with the hysterical girl in it was carried into one of Budd’s rooms in his house, where the shutters were closed and the curtains drawn.

The weeping mother departed after giving strict injunctions to the Doctor not to allow any noise to be made in the house, no doors to be slammed, or poor darling Evangeline would go into convulsions--so highly strung were her sensitive nerves.

“Humph!” said Budd, and saw the good lady depart. He allowed ten minutes to elapse, and then he went upstairs, stamping on each step, threw open the door of the room in which his patient lay, and shouted--

“Halloo! What tomfoolery is this? I’ll soon make an end to it.” He went to the window, drew back the curtains, threw open the shutters, and let the sun stream into the apartment.

The girl began to moan and cry.

“Stop that nonsense!” said he. “I’m not like that fool of a mother of yours to believe in your whims. Get out of that box this instant.”

The girl began to tremble, but made no attempt to obey.

Budd went to a drawer and pulled out a pistol. Then to a cupboard and emptied a draught into a glass.

“Now, then,” said he, “which shall it be, pistol or poison? I’ll gripe you with the dose till you squeal with good reason, or put a bullet into you--whichever you prefer. It’s all one to me, but out of that box you jump.”

And jump she did, and fell on her knees before Dr. Budd.

“Oh! please, please, do not kill me!”

“I am not going to kill you if you do what you are told. Sit down there,” indicating a chair.

The girl complied. He rang the bell, and when a servant appeared he ordered a beefsteak and a small bottle of porter and bread. These were speedily brought into the room.

“Now, then,” said the Doctor, “eat and drink and enjoy yourself.”

“I--I--I can only eat macaroons.”

“Macaroons be d---- d. You eat that steak and you drink that porter,” roared Budd, “or”--and he proceeded to cock and present the pistol.

The girl tremblingly obeyed, but presently became interested in the succulent beef and some crisp potatoes, and the porter she sipped first, and then drank, and drained the tumbler.

“That will do for to-day,” said Budd. “I have sent for your out-of-door clothes, and to-morrow morning you shall trundle a hoop round Princess Square. Now I leave you a packet of illustrated books. You dine with me this evening at seven.”

Another hysterical girl he dealt with and cured even more expeditiously. He was shown into the room where she lay in bed, and was informed that she could not rise. The Doctor begged to be left alone in the room with her.

When all were gone forth, he locked the door; then proceeded to divest himself of his coat, next of his waistcoat, and when he began to unhitch his braces--

“Now, then, make room--I’m coming to bed!”

“Mamma! Mamma! Mamma!” screamed the girl, and pulled violently at the bell.

“All right, madam,” said Budd when the mother arrived on the spot; “she’s cured now. Get this little maid up instantly, and vacate the bed for me. If there be any more nonsense, madam, send for me.”

A small girl had a tiresome nervous cough. Dr. Budd was called in. He heard her cough. Then he suddenly took her up in his arms and planted her on the mantelshelf.

“There!” said he. “Balance yourself here for half an hour.” He pulled out his watch. “If you cough you will infallibly tumble over among the fire-irons and cut your head. You are a nice little girl, you are an active little girl, you are a pretty little girl; but you have one cussed fault which makes every one hate you, and I’m going to cure you of that. No coughing. The fire is burning, and if you do fall I suspect your skirts will catch fire, and you will be frightfully burnt, besides having your cheek cut open by the fender.”

A young lady was one day brought to the Doctor by her parents, who were very anxious about her, as she was in a depressed condition of mind, out of which nothing roused her. Budd promised to give every attention to the case, and requested the parents to leave her with him at his residence in Princess Place. Soon afterwards he bade his coachman put to and take the young lady out for a drive. “And mind,” said the Doctor, “you upset the carriage.”

His orders were obeyed. The landau was upset in a ditch, and the young lady appeared screaming at the window to be extricated. “No more apathy now,” said Budd; and sent her home cured.

Budd, with all his roughness, was a kind-hearted and liberal man. His surgery was at the “Cottage,” in Westwell Street, and thousands streamed there every year full of implicit faith in Budd’s powers. A child was one day brought to the “Cottage,” a puny little sufferer. The Doctor, with his quick eye, saw that the case was critical; and although this was a free patient, he immediately had it sent to his own home in Princess Square, with strict orders that it was to be well fed and cared for; and it remained there for several days under his care without fee or reward.

A tradesman in Plymouth, living not long ago and in good circumstances, was at that time a man of straitened means. He was attacked by Asiatic cholera. Dr. Budd was called in, and saw that the case was severe and required every care; and he attended morning, noon, and night--on some days almost hourly--for a fortnight or three weeks, and at last the patient was cured. Then, with trembling lips, he asked Dr. Budd for his bill, thinking he would have to pay thirty or forty pounds. The Doctor replied: “You are a struggling tradesman, and cannot afford to pay much; if you cannot rake together five pounds, pay me what you can.”

A girl suffering from S. Vitus’s dance was brought to him. He looked hard at her. “Humph! Every time you make one of those jerks, I’ll force you to kiss me,” said the Doctor. This succeeded--for, according to the general opinion, Dr. Budd was “mortal ugly.”

A boy patient was fencing with his questions. Budd put the poker in the fire, and when it was red-hot took it to the bedside, and with a severe look and voice declared that he would at once apply it if the lad did not answer fully to his questions. The threat produced the immediate result of eliciting the replies he required, so as to enable him to diagnose the case.

Dr. Budd had an aptitude to diagnose his patient at a glance. At one time a young schoolmaster of Willinghull, aged twenty-two, named Horswell, visited him. He had formerly been in Plymouth, and knew the fame of Dr. Budd. As he had broken down in health, he returned to Plymouth. Two doctors had assured him that he would soon recover, but he thought he would obtain an opinion from Dr. Budd. This physician examined him, and told him in his usual blunt manner that he was food for worms. His right lung was gone, and his left was affected. “I shan’t give you medicine. Eat and drink well, and keep out of the cold, and you will hold on for ten months--no longer.”

Horswell got better and returned to his duties at the Wesleyan School at Willinghull. He wrote frequently to his friends, and told them how much better he was, and jeered at Budd’s prediction.

About eight months after his return he announced to his friends in Plymouth that he was about to be married, and again alluded to Budd’s prediction, and promised to write announcing his wedding. That letter never came; but instead of it one with a black edge, informing his friends that Horswell had broken a blood-vessel and had died suddenly; and a post-mortem examination proved that the right lung had long been gone, and a portion of the left.

A drunken man fell into Sutton Pool. It was late in the evening, and very dark at the time, but a tradesman in the locality happening to hear the splash, raised the alarm. With great presence of mind, he laid hold of a number of newspapers, set them on fire, and threw them into the water. By this light the drowning man was seen and recovered, and taken into a public-house. Every means was adopted to restore animation. Several medical men were soon in attendance, and they pronounced the man out of danger. Dr. Budd put in his appearance somewhat late, and, shaking his head, pronounced the man’s condition to be hopeless. The man slept well that night, and next day ate his breakfast and dinner as usual. The doctors all called to see him in the morning, and all, with the exception of Dr. Budd, pronounced him out of danger; but Budd stepped forward and asked the man if he was prepared to die, “for,” said he, “you will be dead before six o’clock this evening.” No one present, not even the man himself, believed the statement, as all was going on so favourably. But Budd was right, and before sundown the man was dead. Dr. Budd considered it impossible that he should recover from the blood-poisoning caused by taking into his stomach the poisonous deposits in Sutton Pool.

A miserly old fellow who was well off in worldly goods visited Dr. Budd at his “Cottage” in Westwell Street, and, thinking to save the guinea fee, dressed himself in rags. The Doctor recognized him, but listened patiently to the old man’s tale, and then asked him where he lived, to which the man replied by naming a very poor part of the village near his own residence and using a feigned name.

The Doctor said: “Do you know who lives in that big house in the place with the door that has a pediment over it?” To which the old man replied “Yes,” and mentioned his own name.

“Then,” said Dr. Budd, “call on that gentleman on your way home and tell him that the devil will have him in a fortnight.”

A few days beyond the fortnight the old gentleman actually died.

A Dartmoor small farmer came to him one day, suffering from congestion of the lungs. “You go home, and to bed at once,” said Dr. Budd; “and here’s a draught for you to take internally, and here are some leeches to apply externally.”

“Please, your honour, to write it down,” said John.

“Can you read?”

“Yes, I reckon, but my Mary can’t.”

So Dr. Budd wrote the instructions.

A week or fortnight later the patient called again. He was recovered.

“Well,” said the Doctor, “you took my prescriptions?”

“Aye, I reckon I did--and drashy things they were.”

“You put the leeches on?”

“I reckon I put ‘em in, sir. I read what you’d wrote and we understood you to say that they was to be fried, so my Mary, her put the pan on th’ vire, and a pat o’ butter and a shred o’ onion, and fried ’em, live as they were. But they was cruel nasty, like bits of leather. But Lord! for mussy’s sake, Doctor, don’t ax me to ate any more o’ them things. I’d rayther take a whole box o’ pills all to wance.”

A gentleman called on him one day just before Budd sat down to dinner, and brought with him his brother suffering from lock-jaw.

“I’m not going to be interfered with at my dinner for you or the King,” said Budd; then to his servant, “Here, George, lay two plates for these gentlemen, the one who can’t speak place opposite me at the bottom of the table, and for the other gentleman in the middle on my left.”

Whether they would or no, the two visitors were obliged to comply; they knew the imperious nature of the Doctor, and that unless he were humoured, he would kick them out of the house and refuse to attend to the patient.

A roast leg of mutton was placed before Dr. Budd; he proceeded to carve a great slice, then took it and threw the slab of meat in the face of the gentleman on his left, who staggered back and hastily seized his napkin to wipe his face and sweep the juice from his shirt-front and waistcoat. But before he had cleansed himself, slap came another slice of mutton in his face, and then a third. At this the man with the lock-jaw burst into a roar of laughter.

“There,” said Budd, “I have cured you: you will have to pay for a new waistcoat for your brother, it’s messed with grease.”

Budd was sent for to visit a poor man who was bad with quinsy, could not swallow, could not even speak. Said the Doctor to the patient’s wife, “I be coming to dine with you, I and my assistant John.”

“Lor’ a mussy, sir, I ain’t got nothing fit for gentlevolks to dine on here,” said the amazed woman.

“Here’s a guinea,” said Budd. “Go and get us a bottle of wine and make us apple dumplings, and plenty of these latter. Will be here at one o’clock.”

At the appointed hour, Budd and his assistant arrived. The table was spread with a clean cloth, and humble but neat ware was placed on it--all in the room where the patient was lying gasping for breath. Budd and John seated themselves one at each end of the table; and the dumplings were produced, round, hard, hot, and steaming. Budd took one up in his hands, turned it about, and, all at once, threw it at the head of his assistant, and caught him full crash between the eyes. John sprang up. “Two can play at that game!” shouted he, and catching up another dumpling threw it at the Doctor, who dodged, and the apple burst its crust and remained clinging to the wall. This was the beginning of a war of pelting with dumplings; and it so tickled the patient that he burst out laughing and burst the quinsy.

He was visiting a labouring man who was weak, and Budd saw that what he needed more than physic was good nourishing diet. Now that day he was having mock-turtle soup at his table, so he sent a bowl of it to his patient. The man looked into the bowl, saw the pieces of calf’s head floating in it, shook his head, thrust it away, and said, “I can’t take that, there’s too much of a surgeon’s trade in it to suit my stomach, sure ’nuff.”

Budd was visiting a farmer in the country. Every time he left, a prentice boy on the farm came with an anxious face to inquire how his master was.

The Doctor was touched with the intense interest the lad took in the condition of his master. One day as he left and the boy asked after the farmer, Budd shook his head and said, “I fear it’s going bad with him.”

Thereupon the boy burst out into a loud bohoo of tears and sobs.

“There, there,” said the Doctor, “don’t take on so, my lad. It can’t be helped.”

“Oh, you’d take on if you was in my place,” sobbed the youth, “for missus makes us eat all the stock, pigs and what not, as dies on the farm.”

He was visited in his consulting room by a patient who had lock-jaw.

“Come upstairs,” said he; “I can do nothing with you here.” He threw open the door and preceded the man up the flight of stairs. When he had got some way up he suddenly lurched against his patient, upset him, and sent him rolling heels over head to the bottom of the staircase.

The man yelled out from the bottom, “Confound you, Doctor, you’ve broken my arm!”

“Oh! is that all? I can set that. I have already loosened your jaw.”

He visited the late Mrs. Radford, an aged lady.

“What you want,” said he, “I’ll tell you. Get a boat and a pair of sculls and row round Plymouth Sound; do that or be d---- d.”

“Doctor,” replied she, “I can’t do one--and I won’t be the other, not even to please you.”

When he resided in George Street, Devonport, the young officers often came to him to try, as the saying is now, “to pull his leg”; but they rarely got the better of him. Once a couple called with grave faces to inform him that a comrade had swallowed a blue-bottle fly, and that it was buzzing about in his interior and made him feel very ill. Doctor John went to an outhouse and returned with a fat spider, and gave it to the young officers. “There,” said he; “tell your friend to swallow that, and it will soon settle the blue-bottle.”

On another occasion, some officers whom he had served invited him to dine at the mess with them, but, “No,” said he; “I never dine from home.”

“Very well,” said they, “dine with you we will; and, if you will allow us, we will order a dinner to be served in your own house.”

“No objection to that,” said Budd, and he protested afterwards that they had given him the best dinner and the best wine he had ever eaten and drunk in his life.

From Devonport he removed to Westwell Street, Plymouth, and this became the Mecca of the poor, whom he attended with as much consideration as the richest patients; and everyone took his or her turn; no favour was shown to one who could pay above another who could not.

Dr. John Budd would attend at the workhouse, to see the sick there. One day the master said to him, “There is Jose here again. He pretends that he is doubled up with lumbago, or something of that sort. The fellow, I believe, is a malingerer; he hates work, and he loves to be in the infirmary and have extra rations.”

“I’ll deal with him,” said Budd; and he was shown into the ward where Jose lay groaning and crying out.

“Where is it, man?” asked the Doctor.

“Oh, sir! cruel pains right across my body. I can’t walk; I can scarce breathe. Oh! oh! oh!” and he began to howl.

“I must examine your back,” said the Doctor. “You must be placed on the table and your spine bared.”

So the moaning rascal was placed, face downwards, on the board, and his hands and feet tied. He did not like that; he said it hurt him “cruel bad.” But it had to be done, and he was stripped to the waist.

“I’ll try Carne’s Balls on him,” said Dr. Budd. The fellow, looking out of the corners of his eyes, saw an apparatus introduced, a couple of iron balls like large bullets, with handles to them; then a spirit lamp was lighted, and the balls were heated in the flame.

“I think I feel easier, sir,” said Jose, who did not relish the preparations.

“But we’re going to make you quite well,” said the medical practitioner; and flinging his leg across Jose’s hams he sat astride on him, and signed to his assistant to hand him the heated balls.

With these he began to pound the patient in the small of the back. They were not red hot, but nearly so, and the purpose of the application was to raise round blisters.

Jose yelled. “Take it patiently,” said Budd; “it will do you good. Heat the balls again.”

Further dabbing with the implement; vociferous yells from the patient. “I am well! I’ve no more pain. Have mercy on me!”

At last he was disengaged and sent back to bed. Next day away went Jose blistered in the back; not another visit from the Doctor would he abide. Nor did he appear again in the Plymouth workhouse. The man was well known elsewhere, and the master had communicated with other heads of workhouses in Devon. A few weeks later Jose turned up at Newton Abbot, and applied for admission into the workhouse; he was suffering badly, very badly, with spasms in the heart. He was taken to the infirmary, at once recognized, and the surgeon sent for.

“Humph!” said the medical man. “This is a case for Carne’s Balls, I see. I’ve heard of him from Dr. Budd.”

“I’ll be shot if you try them on me!” roared Jose. “Let me go--I’m better--I’m well.”

He was dismissed. About a fortnight later he appeared at Exeter workhouse, with his leg contracted, tottering and scarce able to walk. He was put into the infirmary. Said the master, “This is a more serious case than is apparent. We must send for Dr. Budd.” There was then a Dr. Budd of Exeter.

“Budd! Budd!” shouted the man. “I’ll have no Budds about me. Let me go. My leg is well.”

One day, at North Tawton, a man doubled up with pain and reeling in his walk applied at several houses for relief, got some coppers, and came to the respectable house of evidently a well-to-do man, and rang the bell.

The servant at once opened and asked what he wanted. He stated his case and his need of help. “I’ll go and call Dr. Budd,” said the maid.

“Budd here! Budd there! Budd everywhere! I’ll be off!” And, completely cured, away went the sick man as hard as his legs could carry him.

Whether he became a steady working man, or whether he fled the county and the region of Budds to malinger elsewhere, was never known, but the Devon workhouses saw him no more.

Budd was called to see a lady one night after dinner. As soon as he reached the room, feeling his own condition, he staggered to the foot of the bed, clung to a bedpost, and exclaimed, “Drunk, by Gad!” and walked or reeled out of the room. Next morning a letter came from the lady, with a handsome cheque, and a petition that he would not mention the condition in which he had found her.

REAR-ADMIRAL SIR EDWARD CHICHESTER, BART.

The Chichesters are an ancient, and in North Devon an all-pervading family, that has overflowed into South Devon.

The original name was Cirencester, but in the fifteenth century Sir John de Cirencester married the heiress of Sir John Raleigh, Knight, of Raleigh near Barnstaple, whereby the estate passed to the Cirencester family, and the name slid imperceptibly into Chichester, just as Cirencester in Gloucestershire is now pronounced Cicester.

From Raleigh the Chichesters radiated on all sides, married heiresses, and settled into snug nests. Of the Hapsburgs it was said “Felix Austria nube,” and the same with a change of name might be said of the Chichesters.

There are Chichesters of Youlston, of Hall, Chichesters of Arlington, of Widworthy; there were Chichesters of Eggesford, who choked up the little church with their monuments; Chichesters of Calverleigh, and Chichesters of Grenofen by Tavistock. What is more, the Chichesters have made their mark in history. Sir Arthur Chichester, Lord Deputy of Ireland, was created Baron Chichester of Belfast in 1612; his brother, Sir Edward, had a son who was made first Earl of Donegal; and the present Marquess of Donegal is a Chichester.

Sir John Chichester, sergeant-major of the army in Ireland and Governor of Carrickfergus, fell into the hands of Sir James MacDonnell, and was beheaded on a stone in Antrim. Sir Thomas Chichester, his brother, was granted one thousand acres in Rathdonnell, in Ireland. So Chichesters crossed the stormy streak and settled down in the Emerald Isle.

It is really remarkable how many Devonshire families did the same in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I, and families of old county repute and of acres sent their younger branches thither, where they rooted themselves and became vigorous; whereas in a good many cases, the parent stock in Devon decayed and disappeared. It does seem that just as certain plants need transplantation, to maintain their vigour and to avoid degeneration, the same should be the law with families.

Sir Edward Chichester, ninth Baronet, the subject of this memoir, was the second son of Sir Arthur Chichester, whose eldest son, Arthur, died without issue in 1898.

Youlston, the family seat, is in the parish of Sherwill, about four miles from Barnstaple. Youlston itself is not beautiful externally. It, however, has fine ceilings in some of the rooms, and Grinling Gibbons’ carving in the library. It stands in a fine park of one hundred and fifty acres, on high ground between the two streams of the Bradiford and the Youlston waters. Youlston at the time of the Domesday inquest was held by Robert de Beaumont, but a lucky, keen-sighted Chichester snapped up the heiress of Beaumont and so settled himself into the property. The old park and the old house were near the little river that bears the name of Yeo, but these sites have been abandoned and house and park shifted further to the west.

Born in 1849, Sir Edward began his preparation for service in the Royal Navy by entering as a cadet when he was thirteen years old. In January, 1865, he joined the Victoria in the Mediterranean, was appointed in 1868 to the Constance on the west coast of America, and in 1869 passed as sub-lieutenant to the Donegal for service in the Ocean off China. He was gazetted commander, captain, and rear-admiral respectively in 1882, 1889, and 1902.

He was too candid a man to attempt to conceal his political faith in any way. A stauncher Conservative it would have been hard to find, and he followed the political life in North Devon with the keenest interest, wherever his work took him or however great its pressure. He took an active part in the political struggles of Barnstaple in the eighties. Severe contests were fought by the late Sir Robert Carden and Lord Lymington, now the Earl of Portsmouth. Excitement led enthusiasts to extremes. The head-quarters of the rival candidates adjoined. After a public meeting the candidates had a rough time on their way from the hall to their several hotels. Edward Chichester and his brother one evening escorted the aged Sir Robert Carden. Stones were thrown and the little party hustled. A Radical crowd blocked the main entrance to the Tory candidate’s head-quarters, and threatened to maltreat him. By great efforts, and after frequent assaults, the two Chichesters got Sir Robert safely indoors. A moment later and they emerged from the entrance without their coats and with their sleeves turned up. “Now,” shouted Edward Chichester, “some of you fellows assailed my brother and myself; come out and face us like men, if you be such!”

There were groans and cheers; but no man accepted the challenge. Edward Chichester and his brother did not look inviting, as they stood in the street with teeth and fists clenched, and “their tails were up.” After this they escorted Sir Robert Carden many times, but there were no further molestations.

For a considerable number of years Captain Chichester was on the unemployed list, eating out his heart in his bungalow at Instow. But to every man at least once in life comes a chance, and the unlucky and unsuccessful man is he who, seeing it, does not recognize and grasp the chance.

It so fell out that the gunboat Banterer was caught in a storm, and was supposed to have foundered in the Bristol Channel. No tidings had been heard of her, and the Admiralty and the Duke of Edinburgh, then in command at Devonport, were greatly alarmed. However, she managed to run into Bideford estuary, but was there in a deplorable condition, and threatened to become a total wreck by running on some of the sandbanks that obstruct the channel. Captain Chichester, who was on the beach with telescope to his eye, saw the peril, called together at once a scratch crew, manned a boat, and at great personal risk, for the wind was on shore and huge rollers were coming in, made his way to the Banterer, and himself piloted her into anchorage at Appledore, and was able to wire to the Admiralty that she was safe. This got him the command of the troopship Himalaya.

During the operations against the Boers in the Transvaal he was naval transport officer, till the ignominious surrender by Mr. Gladstone in 1881. Whenever that was mentioned in Sir Edward’s hearing, his colour would mount in cheek and temple, and he would lower his eyes, feeling the dishonour done to his country as if it were a personal offence.

In 1881-2 he was lieutenant of the Thalia during the war in Egypt. In 1882 he was promoted for his services and received the Egyptian medal and the Khedive’s bronze star, and was again employed in the transport service.

In 1884-5 he was engaged on the same work in Egypt.

In 1887 he was a member of a Committee of Inquiry on British Drift-net Fisheries, and the following year received the thanks of the Board of Trade for the judgment and tact he displayed as senior officer in command of the ships employed in protecting North Sea Fisheries; while in 1891 he served on a Board of Trade Committee on Fishing Boats’ Lights. In 1895 he was sent with the Immortalité to the China station. On inspecting a ship on the China station he was accompanied by a major of the Royal Marines; the latter had forgotten his inspection papers, and asked leave to go back to his ship to fetch them. When he returned he apologized to the captain for the delay and for having forgotten the papers. “You’ve forgotten something else,” said Captain Chichester, looking up and down at the Marine officer, who wore the official spurs; “why, you’ve forgotten the ’oss.” He was there in 1898 when the Spanish-American war broke out.

When, after destroying the Spanish squadron at Cavite, Commodore Dewey blockaded Manila, the Immortalité and three other men-of-war were dispatched thither to protect English interests. Ships of other nations also assembled there, and amongst these the Germans with such an assumption of menace, that Commodore Dewey fired a shot across the bows of the flagship of Admiral Dietrich, commanding the German squadron. It was well known that the Germans were desirous of putting a stop to the war, and that the Kaiser had no desire to see the Stars and Stripes wave over any possession in the Eastern Archipelago. He had but just before used the expression “the Mailed Fist” in reference to his squadron in the Far East. The Emperor’s royal brother was in command of one of the German ships. The American fleet was employed in Manila Bay in keeping the Spanish squadron inside. The Germans were approaching menacingly, and showed signs of irritation at the prospect of the Americans taking active and decisive measures with the enemy. It became necessary for the American admiral to restrict the movements of the foreign men-of-war in the circumstances. It seemed probable that Dietrich had received secret instructions to fire on the American fleet in the event of its bombarding Manila, but only on the condition that the English remained neutral. Be that as it may, the disposition of the German squadron drawing in upon that of the American looked suspicious. But before opening fire the German admiral went to the Immortalité in a boat to sound the disposition of the English commander.

On meeting in the cabin, Dietrich inquired, “What attitude are you likely to take up in the event of the Americans bombarding Manila?” “That,” replied Chichester, “is a matter known only to Dewey and me.”

Dietrich, somewhat disconcerted, paused, and then asked, “Where, sir, do you intend the English squadron to be, should, unhappily, a conflict ensue between the American Navy and that of his Imperial Majesty?” “Ask Dewey,” was the only answer vouchsafed, and the German retired down the side of the vessel growling in his beard.

Immediately significant orders were issued, and the four British men-of-war steamed across the line of the German vessels, the Immortalité leading, and the others following in line, and when the senior vessel was about two ship-lengths off, the band of the Olympia played “God Save the Queen,” and the band of the Immortalité responded with “The Star-spangled Banner.” It was but a common, everyday act of courtesy, but it was vastly appreciated by the Americans who witnessed it, and it was a significant hint of “hands off” to the Germans.

Towards nightfall, when it was evident that the American fleet was not going into action, the French cruisers Bayard and Pascal, and the German cruisers Kaiser and Kaiserin Augusta returned to their former anchorage. The American cruisers Concord and Petrel steamed slowly up the bay in front of the city, and anchored between it and the foreign warships, but all through the night kept the searchlight travelling over the water between them.

Next morning Dietrich sent an apology to the Yankee admiral.

The exact details were never officially divulged. The significance of this dramatic action was that it convinced the world that England was on the side of the United States, and that, to use the old familiar phrase, “Blood is thicker than water.” Hitherto, the Americans had been jealous and suspicious of Great Britain, and believed it possible that England might have sided with the Germans in the negotiations which it was understood were then taking place in Europe for the combination of the Old World forces against the States in favour of Spain. As a contemporary writer had it: “It was the first signal demonstration which the Americans received that the sympathies of their kith and kin were with them, and that the jealousy of no third Power would be allowed to interfere with the just retribution which they were about to exact from their enemy. Sir Edward made history that day. He wiped out the memories of Bunker Hill and New Orleans--so far as they were bitter memories.” That his conduct was approved at home was shown by the Government conferring on him the C.M.G. On another occasion, when in the China seas, Captain Chichester had an opportunity of making history, and make it he would have had he been supported by the Government at home. The incident shall be given in his own words:--

“I ran into Port Arthur one morning and anchored alongside a Russian cruiser. Well, there was the devil of a to-do. The Port Admiral put off and told me I could not anchor there. I said I was already anchored. He said I must weigh again and get out. I told him I wouldn’t budge an inch until it suited me, and in the meantime I must have fresh provisions and vegetables. Then there was no end to the excitement, Russian pinnaces and Chinese pinnaces darting all over the harbour. I went quietly about my business. The Chinese said they would complain to my Government. I grinned. This went on for some time, and then I got orders from home--Salisbury was getting old then, and probably a little weak--to leave Port Arthur and sail for Chefoo. When I reached Chefoo, the Russians took possession of Port Arthur. Had I remained, the history of the Far East would have changed for all time.”

With all officers with whom he had been shipmates, as with the men of the lower deck, the feeling entertained for Sir Edward was one of real affection. He was a sailor after the sailor’s own heart--bluff, hearty, and just and generous to a degree, and as fearless as he was just. In his manner of bearing there was an entire absence of that characteristic which in the service as in civil life is generally known as side. To his great disappointment he was never engaged in naval warfare; but there can be no manner of doubt that he would have proved a brilliant commander in an engagement at sea.

During the South African war in 1899 to 1900, he was again employed as Transport Officer, this time at Cape Town. It was no light matter to transport a quarter of a million men over five thousand miles of sea, and to land them at the Cape without a hitch. It was no fault of his that the troops were dumped down in chaotic groups and in unsanitary spots. All he had to do was to convey these men who were sent to him from England to Africa.

As the Morning Chronicle said:--

“During the South African war, Sir Edward Chichester, as Chief Naval Transport Officer, superintended the disembarkation of the troops, horses, guns, and provisions, which the country poured into the subcontinent. The smoothness and the skill and the absence of casualty with which that difficult work was carried through, won for the gallant officer universal approbation.”

Chichester was a man of blunt speech, and most of the stories told of him illustrate this roughness. Sir Edward ordered, on one occasion, the captain of one of the transports lying in Cape Town docks to move his ship out, in order to make room for another. The captain did not want to go, and raised difficulties. “He had not his steam up--could not possibly change quarters that night.” Sir Edward remarked, “Give him an hour, and if he is not out by then, we will shift him.”

The hour elapsed without a move being made. Then, at a signal, two Government tugs shot out, ran alongside, and in twenty minutes the steamer was had out and anchored in the bay.

Into his room at Cape Town one day burst a Volunteer colonel, swelling with importance. “Who are you, sir?” asked Sir Edward.

“I am Colonel Blank,” was the reply, given with much pomposity.

“Oh, indeed, is that all?” said Sir Edward. “I thought at least you were an admiral.”

He was busy writing in his office on the quay on another occasion, and took no notice of a ponderous person waiting impatiently.

“Will you please to attend to me?” the man asked at length.

Sir Edward looked up and inquired, “Have you bought these docks, sir?”

“Most certainly not. I do not know what you mean.”

“Then go to the devil,” Sir Edward remarked, going on with his writing. Then, summoning his clerk, he said: “Here! stick up on my door the notice in big letters, ‘Office of the Chief Transport Officer, and not a general inquiry office.’” But he had also inscribed on his office door, “Walk right in; no Red Tape here.”

On one occasion the captain of a big Union-Castle liner came in to make a report. Chichester had a great objection to the uniforms worn by the officers of these ships, because he thought they were modelled too closely on the lines of the naval uniforms. Seeing this gorgeously clad individual in his office he stood up, and gravely saluting him remarked:--

“I am sorry, Admiral, that the Government have thought it necessary to send you out to supersede me in my duties. I hoped that I was giving satisfaction, but----”

“There is some mistake, Sir Edward,” was the reply. “I am Captain----, of the ---- Castle.”

“Oh! Then why the devil do you deck yourself up in that rig?” roared out the Chief Transport Officer. “If that is all you are, you can wait till I’ve finished my letter.”

Bored on another occasion by some officer over a trumpery affair, he burst out, “Look here, sir! you are sent out to South Africa to kill Boers, and not to kill time. Anyhow, you shall not kill mine.”

Mr. Douglas Story tells the following: An anæmic officer came to Sir Edward one day during the Boer war, and demanded attention.

“H’m, what do you want?” growled the Chief Naval Transport Officer.

“Food, sir, for my men.”

“Well, haven’t they got any? What are they living on?”

“Biscuits, sir; beastly dry biscuits.”

“Can’t they live on biscuits? The Navy men manage to subsist on them.”

“They are used to ’em; our Tommies are not. Theirs is a better stomach for biscuits than that of the men in the army.”

“Aye, and they have a d---- d better stomach for fighting, too!” roared the Captain, and resumed his work.

When the Devon Volunteers landed in South Africa, Sir Edward saw to their disembarkation, and also saw them leave for the front. One of the Barnstaple men relates that as they moved away Sir Edward put his hands to his mouth, funnel-wise, and shouted: “Mind, you Devon chaps, give the Boers a d---- d good hiding.”

During the war Sir Edward stayed in one of the smallest hotels in Cape Town, near the docks, as more convenient to his work than one that was larger and up town. But the food provided there was execrable. Sir Edward, unable to stomach this, one day provided himself with a gigantic cheese that he had purchased, and entered the coffee-room carrying it, and thereon he made his lunch.

At the same time there was staying in the hotel a Dutchman whom every one looked upon as a spy. In the evening Sir Edward was late for dinner, and the Hollander early. Imagine, therefore, the gallant captain’s disgust when on entering the room he found the Dutchman tucking into his cheese. He paused in the doorway, stared, and then thundered out: “I say, waiter, look there! I’m d---- d if that Boer spy isn’t eating my cheese! By heavens, it’s a bullet or two he should have inside him and not my cheese!”

Every one but the Dutchman burst into a roar of laughter.

He was made C.B. in October, 1900, and was naval A.D.C. to Queen Victoria, and afterwards to the King, from 1899 to 1904. On his return from South Africa he took command of the fleet reserve at Devonport. He was promoted to Rear-Admiral in January, 1902, and on June 10th, 1904, was appointed Admiral-Superintendent, with charge of His Majesty’s naval establishments at Gibraltar. He had married the daughter of the late Commander R. C. Whyte, /R.N./, of Instow, in 1880, and by her had four sons and six daughters.

He returned to England hale and cheerful in 1900. On arriving in North Devon he was welcomed by his tenantry with great rejoicings, and was presented with an illuminated address, which was read in the presence of a large assembly of local notabilities by his brother, the rector of Sherwill. His first words in reply were, “You said that very well, Pass’n Charles.”

He went back to his duties at Gibraltar, where he died on September 17th, 1906. The body was brought to Plymouth in the Formidable, and thence conveyed by train to North Devon, and the obsequies took place at Sherwill. Sir Edward had seldom resided at Youlston when in England, but at his bungalow, Instow.

“Outside his own country and navy,” said the Paris edition of the New York Herald, “the untimely death of Rear-Admiral Chichester, /R.N./, cannot be more regretted than by the American people and its naval service. During the critical period succeeding the capture of Manila, this British officer proved himself a steadfast supporter of our rights in those waters. While scrupulously observing the obligations imposed on him as a neutral, his official and personal conduct strengthened the hands of Admiral Dewey, harassed as he was by the inexplicable and annoying performances of the German admiral on that station. The prompt and graceful action of Rear-Admiral Brownson on his arrival off Gibraltar, with the American armoured cruiser division, in furnishing an escort for the funeral of this distinguished officer, will therefore be earnestly approved by our Government and people. It was both a recognition of the personal esteem in which Rear-Admiral Chichester was held, and a fitting official testimony to the services rendered by him when our friends were few and far between.”

The Morning Chronicle said: “Admiral Sir Edward Chichester was a splendid specimen of the British naval officer. In physique, in his bluff heartiness of manner, in his racy conversation, in the very roll of his walk, he was every inch a sailor. Wherever he went he carried with him the savour of the sea. A thorough West-countryman--a man ‘of Bideford in Devon’--he preserved the traditions of the old Elizabethan sailors, and seemed indeed to be in the lineal succession to Grenville and Hawkins, to Drake and Raleigh.”

Equally sympathetic was a notice in the Standard:--

“In Rear-Admiral Sir Edward Chichester there has passed away a sailor after Lord St. Vincent’s own heart. We had said after Nelson’s, but Nelson had no hand in the administrative work of the Navy, in which Sir Edward took so great, if subordinate, a share. He belonged to a class which will probably become more and more rare in the Navy--the type of blunt sailor who is a sailor first, second and last, but who, just because he is all a sailor, is also an inimitable diplomatist, prompt and resolute, seeking no quarrel, but fearing no responsibility. We do not for a moment imply that these qualities are not to be found in abundance in the new Navy; but the naval officer of to-day has the habits and manners of the world in a degree to which a sailor of the school of Sir Edward Chichester did not attain.”

At a dinner given in honour of Sir Redvers Buller in Exeter, in November, 1900, the late Lord Clinton, in the course of a speech on that occasion, said:--

“I believe if ever there was the right man in the right place, it was Sir Edward Chichester. Go outside England--go to America, and ask what is thought of him there. We know that the opinion is very high. I believe if the American Navy were at war, and found Sir Edward Chichester on the high seas without an escort, they would kidnap him, and place him at the head of the American Navy. Many American stories are told about Sir Edward. They are perhaps not all true. But if not all true, I think they are well conceived. There is one I have heard about an admiral who greatly admired Sir Edward, and greatly admired England. The admiral bought a lion cub, and wishing always to have the type of Britain before him, he called it Chichester. Sir Edward Chichester, I dare say to his sorrow, was never a combatant officer in this war, but his heart was with his gallant comrades who arrived so opportunely at Ladysmith.”

Some remarkable coincidences were noted on the occasion of the death of Admiral Chichester.

His flagship, the sloop Cormorant, was formally paid off on the date of his death, and recommissioned for similar service under Rear-Admiral J. G. C. Goodrich, who left Plymouth for Gibraltar to take up his appointment. In accord with an arrangement made some weeks before, the battleship Formidable was directed to call at Gibraltar and embark the paid-off men of the Cormorant for passage home. The Formidable on reaching Gibraltar received the news of Sir Edward’s death, and was at once ordered to arrange for the body to be received on board, so that the late admiral and the crew of his flagship came home in the same vessel--a vessel which was also bound to her paying-off port. The paying-off of a flagship on the same day as that on which the death took place of the admiral whose flag she bore was probably unique in the annals of the British Navy. It was also a noteworthy circumstance that Rear-Admiral Goodrich, who in the ordinary way would have succeeded Admiral Chichester early in the ensuing month, left Plymouth Sound on the very same day as that on which the body of his predecessor arrived at that port from Gibraltar.

The speech of Captain Chichester to the German admiral--“That is a matter known only to Dewey and me”--may be seen inscribed in the Naval School in Annapolis, U.S.A., where it embellishes one of the walls of the academy. It may be noted that Annapolis is one of the most British towns in the United States, in the style of its streets and architecture generally, and there is surely no English name more beloved in the American Navy than that of bluff old Admiral Chichester.

INDEX

Abbott, Mr. Frank, 54

Abbott, Mrs., 197, 200, 202

Abdul Gopher, 381

Abede, 118, 119

Aberdeen, 356, 738

Aberystwyth, 429

Abingdon, Lord, 256

Account of the Religion and Manners of the Mohammetans, 169

Ackermann, 572

Acland, Sir Thomas, 479, 533

Adams, Jane, 215

Adams, Mr., 663

Addison, Joseph, 245, 246, 247

Admirable Crichton. See James Wyatt

Affeton, 262, 278, 285

Aix, 419

Albemarle, Duke of, 242

Albury, 256, 257

Aldgate Workhouse, 367

Algiers, 84, 152-158, 167

Alley, Daniel, 192, 193

Almondsbury, 35, 39, 41

Alphington, 17

Alphington Ponies, the, 16-20

---- strange appearance of, 16, 18, 20

---- excuses of the impecunious, 18

Alquenezes, Marquess, 91, 92

Altarnun, 302

Amery, Mr. J. S., 456

American prisoners, 634-699

---- are shot down, 646

---- mutiny, 645, 653

---- report on massacre, 674

Anderson, Lord, 104

Andrews, Charles, 634, 637, 641, 646, 647, 650, 697, 698

Andrews, William, 64

Annals of the East India Company, 381

Annapolis, 787

Anne, Queen, 48, 233, 243, 415

Annery, 182, 183

Annual Register, 67, 68, 368, 400, 524 note

Anstey, Bat, 540, 558

Antiquities, 226, 232

Antongil Bay, 386

Apparitions, 725

Appledore, 235, 775

Apples, 14

---- at a Church Congress, 2

---- grown by Stafford, 2

---- in church, 50

---- Royal Wilding, 6-9, 12, 13

Arber, Mr., 94

Architectural Antiquities, 571

Architecture, Gothic, 574, 614

Architecture, painter of. See Samuel Prout

Architecture, Works on, 575

Argyll, Duke of, 417

Arlington, 772

Arms of Lord Ashburton, 632

---- Bidlake family, 217

---- Blundell family, 619

---- Gould family, 619

---- Harris family, 619

---- Kelloway family, 1

---- Prowse family, 565

---- Raleigh family, 281

---- Stafford family, 1

---- Young family, 619

Arnold, Andrew, 716

Arnold, John, 680

Arnold, Richard, 675, 677, 678

Arnull, Mrs., 563

Arscott, 47

Arscott family, the, 47, 57

Arscott, John, 47-57

---- his characteristic kindness, 49

---- his conduct in church, 50

Arscott, John, his jester, 53

---- his toad, 49, 53

Arscott, “the wicked,” 49

Ash, Dr. Linnington, 544, 563

Ashburton, first Lord, 630

Ashburton, 279, 370, 436, 437, 440, 442, 445, 447, 452, 478, 604, 619, 622-624, 628, 633

Ashburtonian, 456

Ashprington, 371

Ashton, John, 277

Ashwater, 371

Aspect, reason for north, 223

Assassination of Henry III, attempted, 226

As You Like It, 514

Audley End, 196

Aurungzebe, 381

Austen, Rudolphus, 13

Austin, Alfred, 329

Austin, Tom, 175, 176

Avelyn, Lieutenant, 656 note, 660, 670, 695

Averie, Elizabeth, 251

Avery, Captain John, 375-389

---- autocracy in Madagascar, 376, 386, 388

---- as pirate, 381

---- captures Great Mogul’s daughter, 381

Aveton Gifford, 520, 524

Baba Hasan, 159

Babbage, Jack, 553, 554, 556, 557, 562

Babley, 414

Badger, John, 65

Baggator, 702

Bagnal, Sir Nicholas, 268

Bagshot, 203, 281

Bailey, Mr., 708

Baker, Archdeacon, 372

Baker, Bessie, 73

Baker, J., 334, 375

Baker, Mary. See Caraboo

Baker, Sir Richard, 183

Baker’s Chronicle, 183

Ballads and Songs, 328

Ballads, A Century of, 277

Ballad of Cyder, 15

---- of Dick Simmins, 524

---- of Lady Howard, 210

---- of “Lusty” Stucley, 273

---- of the Bideford Witches, 277

---- of Wrestling, 515

Ballads, 244, 417, 503, 615 “The Bay of Biscay,” 354 “The Death of the Smuggler,” 354 “The Death of Parker,” 364-368 “Dear Catholic Brother,” 243 “The Fish on the Coast,” 253 “The Hunting of Arscott, of Tetcott,” 54, 243 “Joy to Great Cæsar,” 245 “Just Like Love,” 353 “The Lamentation of Strangwidge,” 103 “The Little Girl down the Lane,” 445 “May We Never Want a Friend,” 354 “Mrs. Page’s Lament,” 102 “Nice Young Maidens,” 423 “One Long Whitsun Holiday,” 245 “The Scotch Yoke,” 5

Ballard, Joseph, 415

Baller, Anthony, 422

Bampfylde, Mr., 613

Bancroft, Mr. and Mrs., 33

Banks, Sir Joseph, 750

Banterer, 775

Barclay, 133

Baring, Charles, 616

Barker, Hon. Charles, 257

Barnes, Grace, 276

Barnes, John, 320-324

---- taverner to highwayman, 321

---- executed, 324

Barnstaple, 102-104, 224, 230-234, 326, 414, 417, 422, 543, 561, 772, 774, 782

Barnstaple, Literary History of, 103

Baron, John, 222

Barré, Colonel Isaac, 628, 629

Barry, Mr., 472

Barum ware, 234

Baskerville, Mary, 458

Bastard, Colonel, 482, 483, 704

Batavia, 38, 387

Bateman, Mary, 394

Bath, 40, 45, 420, 429

Bath Chronicle, 40

Bath, Earl of, 231

Bathurst, Lord, 418

Battle of Alcazar, 272, 273, 734

Battyn, 47

Batworthy, 755

Baviad, 451, 453, 455

Bawden the Mole-catcher, 520

Bayard, 238

Bay of Biscay, 86

Beaford, 541

Bear, John, 744

Beare, Dr., 274

Beasley, Reuben G., 635, 639, 673

Beaumont, Robert de, 773

Beauties of England and Wales, 568, 571

Bebb, Mr., 27

Becket, Thomas à, 549

Bedford, Earl of, 204, 209, 754

Beer, 308, 309, 318

Beggar, a disguised, 432, 433

Beggars’ Opera, The, 414-421

---- complete success of, 419

Belgrave, Lord, 448

Bell, Mr., 241

Bell, James, 698

Belle’s Stratagem, The, 31

Bell-ringing, contests in, 370

---- songs of, 370, 371

Belmont, 716

Belstone, 709

Beltrees, 241

Bennett, John, 694

Bennett’s Cross, 700

Benson, Thomas, 233

---- donor of bowl and ladle, 234

---- King of Lundy, 234-237

---- M.P. for Barnstaple, 234

Bent, Dr., 256

Berkeley, Colonel, 24-26

Berkeley, Earl of, 24

Berlin, 616, 628

Bermondsey, 393

Bernasconi, Miss, 563

Berry, 251

Berry, Sarah, 603

Bertie, Dr., 256

Berwick, 266, 483

Bevan, 602

Bewick, 578

Beyeck, Joseph, 698

Bible, value of the, 341

Bickford, William, 47

Bickleigh, 188, 189, 426, 435, 568

Bicton, 591

Bideford, 233, 234, 274, 276, 327, 329, 330, 384, 385, 389, 414, 417, 436, 775, 785

Bidlake, 212, 217, 223, 737

Bidlake, Dr., 459, 566, 567, 568

Bidlake family, the, 212-223, 737

Bidlake, Henry, 215, 219, 222

---- fights for Royalists, 220

Bidlake, Henry, hides in a clock, 220

Bidlake, John, 219

Bidlake, William, 215, 218

Bilbao, 152

Binus, 469

Birch Tor, 700, 701, 705

Bird, Mr. E., /R.A./, 41, 46

Bird of the Oxenhams, the, 249-261

---- appears to foretell death, 249, 254, 256, 258-261

---- probable origin of legend, 254, 255

Birds of the Crozet Islands, 342

Birdwood, Miss, 133

Birmingham, 62, 68, 329

Bisett, Margaret, 227

Bishops, bad character of, in 16th century, 214

Bishop, John, 597

Bishop, Robert, 597

Bishops of Exeter, 48, 124, 125, 214, 217, 218, 249, 529, 531, 532, 538, 556, 557, 558, 583, 590, 747

Bishop of Limoges, 239

Bishop of London, 43, 739

Bishop of Saint Flores, 239

Bishopstawton, 104

“Black Assize, The,” 103

Blackabrook, 186

Blackhall, 711

Black Horse, Captain of the, 207

“Black Horse Tavern,” 320, 321, 323

Black John, 52-55

Blackmail, 383

Blackmore, Robert D., 528, 549, 556, 561

Blake, Admiral, 158, 377

Blake, William, 699

Blisland, 56

Bliss, Mr. Joe, 502

Bloomers introduced by the Alphington Ponies, 20

Blore, Mr., 564

Bloudie Booke, The, 193

Blow, Dr. John, 241, 614

Blundell, Peter, 438, 619

Blundell’s School, 426, 535

Board of Trade, 776

Boconnoc, 605

Bodleian Library, 324

Bodmin, 317, 525, 738

Bodmin Moors, 302

Body-snatching, 365, 405-413

Boer War, 780, 782

Boggs, John, 685

Boleyn, Mary, 263

Bolton, Duke of, 418

Bombay, 381

Boogoos, the, 38

Book of the West, The, 6, 14

Bordeaux, 268, 309, 605

Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy, 95

Boringdon, 713

Borrow, George, 466, 469, 471

Boscastle, 302

Boscawen, Mrs., 743

Boston, 384, 697

Boswell, James, 627, 750

Bötcher, 604

Boughthayes, 187

Boulogne, siege of, 263

Boundye, Thomas, 597

Bovey, 535

Bovey Heathfield, 482

Bowring, Benjamin, 510

Boyce, John, 533

Boyle, Robert, 489

Brabant, 205

Braddons, The, 18

Bradford, 68

Bradiford stream, 773

Bradmore, 524

Bradstone, 213, 222

Bradworthy, 594, 595

Bratton Clovelly, 97

Braunton, 329

Bray, Mrs., 95, 96

Bray, Rev. E. A., 95

Brazen Mask, The, 353

Breeches fit the man, 703

Brentford, 281, 731

Brest, 206

Brice, Andrew, 389, 480, 502-513

---- reprimanded by Parliament, 504

---- publishes Weekly Journal, 504

---- publishes The Grand Gazetteer, 509

Bridestowe, 212, 213, 221

Bridewell, 393

Bridport, 308

Brightleigh, 436, 437

Brighton, 44

Brimblecombe, 540, 541

Brimpton, 185

Bristol, 37, 39, 41, 45, 378, 384, 393, 420, 431

British Museum, 52, 180, 329

Britton, John, 568, 569

Brixham, 308, 317, 440

Brixton, 572

Broadbury Down, 371

Broadly, Mr. A. M., 404 note

Broad Street, 282

Broadwood, 371

Broadwood Kelly, 710

Broeck, Adrian Van, 376, 388

Bromefield, 266

Brooke, Mr., 42

Brooking-Rowe, Mr., 94

Brooks, James, 62, 63

Brothers, Richard, 393

Brouchet, 66

Broughton, 66

Broughton, Sir John, 466

Brown, General, 661

Brown, Tom, 241

Brownson, Rear-Admiral, 784

Browse family, the, 718

Bruce, John, 381

Bruce, Robert, 718-725

Bruges, 207

Brunton, Misses, 450

Brushfield, Dr., 506, 510, 511

Brushford, 42

Brussels, 265

Buckerell, 543

Buckingham, 85, 243

Buckingham, Duke of, 85, 196, 710

Buckland Brewer, 182, 327, 330

Buckland-on-the-Moor, 704

Buckner, Admiral, 357, 358

Budd, Dr., of North Tawton, 81, 770

Budd, Dr. J. W., 754-771

---- his summary treatment of patients, 759, 760, 761, 762, 766, 768, 769

---- his kindness to the poor, 762, 766, 767

---- his accurate diagnosis, 763, 764

---- ubiquitous, 771

Budd family, the, 754

Budleigh Salterton, 318

Bulkworthy, 182, 184

Buller, Dean, 747

Buller, Sir Redvers, 785

Bunker Hill, 779

Buoncompagni, Giacomo, 272

Burdeson Park, 28

Burdett-Coutts, Baroness, 329

Burgess, Mary, 45. See Caraboo

Burghley, Lord, 271 note, 272

Burgoyne, Henry, 688

Burian, 710

Burke, Edmund, 405, 409, 606, 627

Burkett, Rev. T., 254

Burleigh, Lord, 735

Burleigh Wood, 220

Burnby, Mrs., 207

Burney, Dr., 613, 614

Burnham, Enoch, 684

Burns, the Devonshire. See Edw. Capern

Burritt, Elihu, 330

Burroughs, Mr., 115, 117

Burrow, Mrs., 590

Bury, Admiral, 536

Bush Down Mine, 700

Bushell, Thomas, 232

Bushfield, James N., 692

Bute, Lord, 3, 4, 6, 624

---- burnt in effigy, 4

Butler, Mr., 160, 161

Butler, Samuel, 752

Butterstone, 737

Byron, Lord, 450, 453

Cadboll, 631

Cadhay, 457, 458

Cadiz, 86, 87, 93, 267

Cain, Elizabeth, 437

Calais, 264

Callington, 81, 371, 535

Calmady family, the, 217

Calmady, Mr., 757

Calne, 624, 628

Calverleigh, 772

Calvinists, 42

Camberwell, 571

Cambridge, 754

Camden, 2

Camden Society, 324

Camelford, 605

Camley, 226

Campbell, James, 698

Campion, 481

Canaletti, 571

Canary Islands, 108, 152

Cann, Abraham, 519-523

Cann, William, 597

Canterbury, 66, 105

Cape Bojadore, 115

Cape Finisterre, 138, 268

Cape La Hogue, 311

Cape of Good Hope, 349

Cape Town, 780, 781, 783

Capern, Edward, 325-331

---- artificial as poet, 325, 328

---- described by Burritt, 330

---- praised by Froude and Landor, 329

---- the postman poet, 327

Captives, The, 415

Caraboo, 35-46

---- her supposed history, 38

---- her real identity, 41

---- is brought to Knole, 35

Carden, Sir Robert, 774, 775

Carew, 268, 527, 528

Carew, Bampfylde-Moore, 425-435, 437

---- life as a beggar, 427-432

Carew, Rev. Theodore, 426

Carew, Sir Walter, 556

Carey, Bishop of Exeter, 595

Carey, William, 263

Carley, James, 661 note, 693

Carlile, Mr., 439, 440

Carlisle, 67

Carlow, 270

Carmarthen, Marquess of, 151

Carnbrea, 705

Carne’s Balls, 769, 770

Carolina, 377

Caroline, Queen, 415

Caron House, 715

Carpenter, Elias, 393

Carrickfergus, 773

Carrington, Chancellor, 352

Carswell, 584, 590

Carteret, Lord, 235

Cary family, the, 565

Cary, Philippa, 292-300

---- executed, 299

---- exhorted by Quicke, 295-297

Cashel, Archbishop of, 269, 270

Castlereagh, Lord, 644, 673

Catdowne, 298

Cater, Mr., 565

Cathedral Close Gates, Exeter, 485

Catwater, 298

Cavite, 776

Cawley, Mr., 495, 499

Cecil, Robert, 735

Cecil, Sir Edward, 85, 86, 93, 264, 267, 272

Century of the Names and Scantlings of Inventions, 487

Cephus, Richard, 676

Chagford, 65, 737, 755

Chair, Gay’s, 414, 415, 421

Challacombe, 701, 705

Challoner, 265

Champernowne, Margaret, 189

Champernowne, Rev. F., 372

Champion, Richard, 606

Channel Islands, 306, 308, 309, 314, 315

Chanter, Mr. J. R., 103, 224, 225 note, 237 note, 422, 423

Chappell, Samuel, 597

Chapple, William, 241, 256, 543

Charles I, 85, 93, 219

Charles II, 158, 241, 242, 243, 245

Chartres, Cathedral of, 579

Chaster, 479

Château Morand, 239

Chatham, 634

Chave, Mr., 286-291

Chaw Gully, 705

Chefoo, 779

Chee-ming, 38

Cheltenham, 24

Cherbourg, 306, 308

Chiche, 195

Chichester, Baron, 772

Chichester family, the ubiquitous, 772

---- famous members of, 772, 773

Chichester, Rear-Admiral Sir Edward, 772-787

---- a staunch Conservative, 774

---- his death at Gibraltar, 784

---- his difficulties as transport officer, 780-783

---- his diplomacy, 777, 784, 787

---- promotions of, 774, 775, 776, 779, 783

Child of Nature, The, 23

Chimsworthy, 97

China, 36, 616, 776

China-clay discovered, 605

Chope, R. Pearse, 234 note, 237 note

Chowne, Parson, 549, 551, 556

Christchurch, 315, 373

Chronicles of Crime, 355, 368

Chudleigh, 622

Chumleigh, 262, 510

Church Congress at Plymouth, 2

Churchill, Mr., 107

Cibber, Colley, 416

Cirencester, 772

Cirencester, Sir John de, 772

Citadel, The, 298

Civita Vecchia, 272

Clandestine Marriage, The, 509

Clarendon, 195, 197, 199, 211, 415, 487

Clarke, Capt. J. S., 725

Clarke, Mr., 422

Clarke, Sir T., 620

Clement, John C., 644

Clements, William, 692

Clergy, corrupt state of the, 214, 562, 594

Cleveland, Earl of, 715

Cleverdon, Penelope, 599

Clifford, Lord, 435

Clinton, Lord, 785

Cloberry, John, 222

Clock, grandfather, 220

Clode, Braddon, 56

Clovelly, fishermen of, 229

Clutterbuck, Richard, 249

Coaker, Jonas, poet, 706

Cobbett, William, 454

Cobley, John, 583

Cobley, Miss, 458

Cobley, Mr., 461

Cobley, Uncle Tom, 583

Cockburn, Mr., 551

Codding, Caleb, 699

Codmore, John, 62

Coham, William Holland, 47

Cohen, Israel, 407

Cohorn, 499

Coining, counterfeit, 640

Coin clipping, 265, 283-285

Coke, Sir Edmund, 195

Cole, James, 60

Cole, Mary, 24

Colebrook, 519

Collard, John, 694

Collas, Victor, 640

Colchester prison, 168

Coleman, Dorcas, 274

Collections, 254

Collier, Jeremy, 241, 242

Collier, W. F., 516 note, 525, 756

Collumpton, 175, 321, 322

Cologne, 167

Colton, Rev. C., /M.A./, 286, 289, 290

Combe, 212

Combe, William de, 213

Combmartin, 537

Compton, Theodore, 606

Congo Free State, 386 note

Congreve, W., 417

Constantinople, 159, 162

Consul, English, 155

Consul, French, 157

Cooke, John, saddler, 478-486

---- his conduct during elections, 481

---- his services to Exeter, 483-485

Cookesley, Rev. John, 454

Cookesley, William, 445-448

Cookworthy, William, 600-607

---- absent-minded Quaker, 603

---- discoverer of china-clay, 605

Cooper, Sir Astley, 405

Copenhagen, 309

Corelli, 609

Cork, 268, 384, 439

Cork, Earl of, 45

Cornish Magazine, 516 note

Cornwood, 290

Corry, 322

Corunna, 378

Cory, John, 598

Coryton, 222

Cosdon, 709

Cotgrave, Captain, 641, 642, 643

Cott, Miss, 393

Cotton, Mr., 230 note, 258, 260

Cotton, Walter, 689

Cotton, William, 217

Council of Trent, 238

Courtenay, 545

Courtenay, Sir William, 187, 191, 208

Courtlands, 616

Courtney, Hon. Elizabeth, 371

Courtney, Kelland, 372

Courtship, an uncertain, 25-30

Covent Garden, 353

Coventry, 228

Coventry, Lord, 199

Cowes, 312

Cowley Barton, 616

Cox, Captain, 332, 337

Cox, Mr., 414

Crackington Cove, 56

Cranstoun, Baron, 631

Craven, Countess of, 450

Crediton, 44, 173, 351-353, 431, 583, 593

Creedy Park, 431

Creedy River, 351

Cresford, Mr., 133, 134

Crolly Bridge, 77

Cromwell, Henry, 244

Cromwell, Oliver, 490, 544

Cromwell, Richard, 223

Cromwellian barbarity, 222

Crook, Mr., 422

Cross, Mr., 189, 463, 464, 465

Crowd, a London, 484

Crowe, Mrs., 174

Crown Dale, 702

Crown’s Too Weighty, The, 243

Crozets, The, 333, 344

Crusoe, a new Robinson. See G. M. Goodridge

Cudmore, Mr. Henry, 162

Culham, 373

Cumberland, Duke of, 416

Cunninghame, William, 631

Curate and the pig, the, 560

Curate, how to select a, 543

Curson, 478

Curtis, Anne, 265

Curtis, Sir Thomas, 265

Cutteford, George, 199, 202, 204

Cyder, 3, 13, 14

---- how made, 3, 6, 11

---- tax on, 3, 6

---- Royal Wilding, 8, 10

---- Whitesour, 10, 13

Cyder, Dissertation on, 1, 6, 10, 13

Daily Graphic, 70, 80

Dalling, Governor, 740

Dally, Mr., 505

Daman, 381

Darcy, Thomas, 195

Dartington, 545

Dartmoor, 521, 601, 700, 705, 709

Dartmoor, ancient remains on, 700

Dartmoor Idylls, 707

Dartmoor Pictorial Records, 706 note

Dartmoor Prison, described, 635

---- massacre in, 648

---- official report on massacre, 664

---- prisoners’ depositions concerning massacre, 674

Dartmouth, 264, 304, 316, 317, 334, 370, 428, 429, 440, 494, 591

Dart River, 301

David Copperfield, 444

Davie, Humphry, 431

Davie, Sir John, 431

Davie, John, 274

Davies, 361

Davies, Annie, 451 note

Davis, Andrew, 691

Davis, Jacob, 699

Davy, John, 351-354

---- passion for music, 351

---- wonderful proficiency, 352

---- ruined by success, 353

Davy, Rev. C., 127

Davy, Rev. W., 123-127

---- a mechanical genius, 123

---- encounter with his bishop, 124, 125

---- turns printer, 125

Davy, Richard, 701

Dawlish, 592

Dazzard, 57

Death Coach, the, 211

Defoe, Daniel, 375, 376

Delaware, Lord, 93

Demon of Spreyton, the, 170-174

Denbury, 446

Dennis, 605

Dennis, John, 377 note

Dennis, Lewis, 597

Dennis, Prebendary Jonas, 581-590

---- Church disciplinarian, 582, 583

---- list of his works, 589

Dennis, Sir Thomas, 581

Dent, Captain, 120

Deptford, 162

Derby, U.S.A., 430

Desaguliers, 492

Descriptive Sketch of Sidmouth, 257

Despenser, 229

D’Estrée, 157, 158

De Valle, 229

Devil, encounter with the, 395

---- various forms assumed by, 275, 276

Devon, Earl of, 209

Devon Notes and Queries, 1850, 105; 1903, 403; 1905, 94; 1906, 64; 1906, 79

Devonport, 64, 411, 412, 521, 768, 774, 782

Devonshire Melodist, The, 328

Devonshire Parishes, 494 note

Devonshire Woman, The: or a Wonderful Narrative of Frances Flood, 180

Dewey, Admiral, 776, 777, 784

Diamond, Captain, 314

Dickenson, Captain Harvey, 47

Dictionary of National Biography, 238, 282, 285, 414, 607, 617

Dietrich, Admiral, 776, 777

Dilwyn, 14

Dinan, 137, 138, 139

Dissertation on Cyder and Cyder Fruit, 1, 6

Divorce, plea to obtain, 198

Dixie, Sir Wolstone, 735

Dobell, Edith, 602

Doctors’ Commons, 28

Dodbrooke, 737

Doggett, Simon, 53, 54

Dolmen of Shilstone, 127

Dolton, 1

Donegal, Marquess of, 773

Don Juan de Cadiz, 87, 88

Don Mathias Caster, 113, 114

Dorset, Earl of, 243

Dover, 44

Dowie, Dr., 402

Dowland, 540

Downhouse, 123

Drake, Sir Francis, 101, 200, 204, 248, 785

Drake Walls, 702

Drama, The, 23, 30

Dreams, warnings by, 219, 591, 592, 724

Drewsteignton, 124, 127, 593

Dublin, 269, 384

Duckworth, Admiral Sir J. T., 650

Dudley, 68

Duncan, Admiral, 360

Dunciad, The, 245

Dunning, John, 1st Lord Ashburton, 618-632

---- his early days, 619, 620

---- his repellent appearance, 621, 625, 630

---- his sharp practice, 623, 624

---- Solicitor-General, 624

---- his manors in Devonshire, 628

---- in Berlin, 629

Dunsland, 47, 57

Duntze, Sir John, 479

Durant, 217

D’Urfey, Tom, 52, 57, 238, 247

---- is popular at Court, 242

---- his Pills to Purge Melancholy, 246

Durnford, the Misses. See Alphington Ponies

Durston, Dr. William, 712

Dyer, Mr., 510

Dymond, Robert, 324, 632

Earthworks, Saxon, 212

Eastaway, Elias, 599

Eastchurch, Elizabeth, 275

Eastchurch, Thomas, 275

Eastcott, Rev. Mr., 352

East India Company, 380, 388

Eastlake, Sir C. L., 572

Ebford, 458

Ebsworthy family, the, 213, 217, 218

Ebsworthy, 213, 217

Ebsworthy, Peter, 217

Ecclesiastical Court at Lyons, 239

Economy, false, 746, 747

Eddy, Mrs., 402

Edgecombe, Richard, 222

Edinburgh, 356, 405, 485

Edinburgh, Duke of, 775

Edmonds, 216

Edward II, 229

Edward IV, 183

Edward VI, 229, 265, 369

Edward VII, 783

Edwards, Dr., 354

Edwards, Susannah, 274, 275

Eggesford, 546, 772

Egyptian Hall, 473

Elford, Robert, 61

Elford, Susannah, 61

Eliot, Lord, 569

Eliot, Nicolas, 596

Elizabeth, Queen, 185, 230, 262-270, 735, 773

Elliott, Mr., 162, 164

Elworthy, Mr. F. T., 513

English Garner, The, 94

Epistolæ Ho-Elianæ; or Familiar Letters, 251

Epitaph on Andrew Brice, 511

---- on F. Flood’s legs, 180

---- on Joanna Southcott, 400

---- on John Gay, 424

---- on Margaret Gould, 618

---- on Sir W. Jones, 631

Epsom, 241

Esdell, James, 698

Essex, Earl of, 204

Eumer, 159

Evans, Anne, 292-300

---- executed, 299

Evelyn’s Diary, 514

Examiner, The, 21, 30

Excise Bill, the, 4

Exe River, 107, 150

Exeter, 4, 7, 8, 13, 19, 42, 65, 71, 79, 80, 101, 103, 105, 123, 131, 152, 162, 168, 169, 176, 212, 214, 223, 231, 238, 239, 252, 257, 260, 274, 276, 295, 296, 298, 302, 320, 321, 323, 324, 332, 352, 353, 356, 366, 367, 368, 373, 390, 391, 393, 423, 430, 431, 437, 441, 442, 445, 458, 463, 478, 479, 481, 482, 483, 484, 485, 502, 503, 508, 511, 529, 534, 551, 558, 581, 582, 591, 592, 603, 604, 608, 609, 612, 615, 618, 623, 630, 634, 718, 741, 746, 747, 770, 785

Exeter Grammar School, 123, 437, 592

Exmoor, 225, 426, 533, 539, 546

Exmoor Scolding and Courtship, 510, 513

Exmouth, 150, 583, 584, 587, 616, 630

Experiment, The, 107

Eynesso, Manuel, 37

Fables, 416

Facye, Richard, 597

Fairfax, Sir Thomas, 487

Falconbridge, Lady, 263

Falkener, Sir William, 168

Falkirk, 375

Falmouth, 264, 302, 317, 742

Farinelli, 246

Farinelli’s Ground, 245

Farley, Samuel, 504, 511

Farmer, Thomas, 240

Fellow, Anne, 276

Fellowes, Hon. Newton, 546

Fenton, Lavinia, 418-420

Fey, Francis, 171-173

---- is ill-treated by ghosts, 171

Fig, Dr. Kennicott’s, 373

Fielding, Henry, 51, 425

Figuier, Louis, 499

Fisher, Dr., Bishop of Exeter, 125, 590

Fishley, 540

Fittey, Robert, 698

Fitzford, 185, 186, 187, 188, 190, 195, 196, 197, 199, 200, 202, 204, 206, 208, 209, 210

Fitz of Fitzford, Notes to, 209

Fitz, Mary, 185, 187, 193-210

---- four times married, 195-196

---- an unnatural mother, 208, 209

---- appears after death, 209, 210

Fitz, John, 185-187

Fitz, Sir John, 186-193

---- becomes insane, 191, 193

Fleet Prison, 200, 248, 715

Fleet Street, 248, 249

Flood, Frances, 177-180

Florida, 266, 267

Flower, 518, 519

Floyd, 552

Foley, Rev. T. P., 392, 396, 404 note

Fond Husband, The, or the Plotting Sisters, 240, 247

Fontelautus, 581-589.

---- a vain child, 585

---- obsessed by evil spirits, 586

---- his voice heard after death, 587, 588

Fontenoy, 434

Foote, Maria, 21-34

---- a second-rate actress, 23

---- her benefit, 30

---- her connexion with Col. Berkeley, 24-26

---- her marriage, 33

---- wooed by Hayne, 25-29

Foote, Mr., 21, 22, 27, 28, 29, 30

Foote, Mrs., 21, 22, 25, 26, 30

Foote, Samuel, 21

Footprints of Former Men in Far Cornwall, 52

Ford, 451

Ford, Philip, 698

Forez, 239

Forked Way, The, 212

Fort Sainte Marie, 388

Fort St. George, 388

Fortye, Lieutenant, 670, 695

Foundling Institution, The, 44

Fowey, 93, 737

Fox, Charles James, 5

Francemass, or Franken Days, 6

Francis, Mrs., 133, 134

Frankfort, 166

Frankin, 6

Franklyn, 591

Fraser’s Magazine, 329

Free-traders. See Smuggling

Freeman, 21

French prisoners, 639, 746

Friar’s Green, 80

Friend’s Adventure, The, 136, 138, 139, 151

Frise, Henry, the village poet, 59; buys a wife, 59

Frithelstock, 414

Frost, 520, 523

Frost, Elizabeth, 251

Froude, Hurrell, 545

Froude, J. A., 271 note, 329, 545

Froude, Rev. John, 544-562

---- encounters his bishop, 532, 557

---- as horse-dealer, 536, 553

---- his knavish tricks, 548-550, 555, 560

---- “only drunk,” 561

Froudiana, 563

Fuller, 266

Fun, 329

Furze, Mr. Philip, 170, 171

Fuseli, 462

Gadshill, 322

Gainsborough, Thomas, 608, 610, 611, 743

---- an amateur musician, 610

Gair, John, 699

Galaford, 212

Gambia, 116, 120, 121

Gambling, mania for, 639

Gardeners’ Magazine, The, 12

Gardiner, 282, 285

Gardner, Edward, 699

Garrick, David, 509

Garrison, Cornelius, 698

Garrow, Mr., 18

Gascoigne, Judge, 181-182

Gatchell, John G, 690, 691, 692, 696

Gatti, Messrs., 420

Gaudry, J. E., 511

Gavulford, 212

Gay, John, 245, 414-424

---- writes The Beggars’ Opera, 416

---- writes his own epitaph, 424

Gayer, Sir John, 380, 382

Gazetteer, The Grand, 509, 513

General System of Divinity, 124, 125, 127

Gentleman’s Magazine, The, 256, 257

Geographical Dictionary, 389

George III, satirized by Peter Pindar, 745

Georgenympton, 535, 536

German, Jacob, 703, 704

Germo, 605

Germyn, Gilbert, 213

---- charges against, 215

---- his heresies, 217, 218

Ghent, 207, 643

Ghosts, 57, 129, 170-173, 209, 286-291, 586-592, 719

Ghost, the Sampford, 286-291

---- noisy manifestations of, 287

---- probably caused by maid-servants, 291

Giardini, 610

Gibbon, 627

Gibbons, Grinling, 773

Gibraltar, 107, 783, 784, 786

Gibson, Captain, 377, 378, 379

Giddy, Mr., 738

Gidleigh, 565

Gidley, Mrs., 171

Giffard, Baron, 590

Giffard family, the, 414, 436

Gifford, Edward, 437, 438

Gifford, William, 436-456, 751

---- edits The Quarterly, 452

---- his education, 438, 440, 446

---- his hardships, 439, 440, 441

---- his love of mathematics, 443

---- satires, writer of, 443, 444, 450

Gifford, William, 681

Gilbert, Sarah, 123

Giles, Sir Edward, 218

Gill, Mr., 27

Gillespie, Elizabeth, 572

Gist, Thomas, 274

Gittisham, 177, 390

Gladding, Major, 661

Gladstone, W. E., 775

Glandfeeld, Mr. See Glanville

Glanville, John, 97

Glanville, Judge, 95-106

---- M P. for Tavistock, 97

Glanville, Mr. George, 505, 506, 508

Glanville, Nicholas, 102

Glimpses of the Supernatural, 258

Glubb, Mr., 541

Goddess of Death, the, 211

Godolphin, Sir Francis, 97

Goldsmith, Oliver, 327, 627

Goldsworthy, 414

Goletta, 158

Gomera, 108, 111, 112

Goodleigh, 754

Goodrich, Rear-Admiral J. G. C., 786

Goodridge, George Medyett, 332-350

---- goes sealing in the Pacific, 333

---- is shipwrecked, 335

---- his life on the island, 383

---- is rescued, 347

Gorges, Sir Arthur, 187

Gorham, Rev. G. C., 48

Gosling, Mr., 410, 411, 412

Gould, Edward, 438, 619, 622

Gould, W. Drake, 622

Gower, Lord, 234, 236

Gravesend, 281

Gray, John, 698

Greathead, Bertie, 450

Greenhithe, 362

Greenlaw, James, 679 note, 683

Greenwich, 484

Grenofen, 772

Grenville, Elizabeth, 206-209

Grenville family, the, 565, 710, 785

Grenville, Lord, 418

Grenville, Sir Bernard, 232

Grenville, Sir Richard, 197-207, 279

---- imprisoned, 200, 206

---- hanged in effigy, 203

---- takes possession of Fitzford, 204

Grey, James, 158

Grey, Miss, 429

Grey Woman, The, 129-135

Grills, William, 196

Grimspound, 701

Grose, 226, 232

Grosvenor, Earl, 448, 450, 451, 452

Groves, James, 682

Grunsall, George, 162, 164

Guatham, 618, 632

Guildhall, Plymouth, 63, 96

Guiller, Charles, 640

Gulwell, 619

Gunstone, Sir Thomas, 235

Gutch, 46

Hagabets, John, 699

Halberton, 490

Halhead, Mr., 393

Hall, 772

Hall, Bishop, 249

Hall, Mr. S. C., 576

Hall, Stephen, 676

Halley, Dr., 126

Halsbury, 414, 436

Halse, Miss, 558

Hamlet, John, 687

Hamlyn, Joe, 703

Hammett, Sir Benjamin, 105

Hamoaze, 633, 634, 640

Hampton Court, 499, 746

Handel, 609, 614, 615

Hankford, Sir William, succeeds Judge Gascoigne, 182

---- at Annery, 182

---- his accidental death, 183

---- his monument, 184

Hanmer, Rev. John, 414, 415

Harborne, 329

Hare, 405

Harkett, 133

Harrington, Countess of. See Maria Foote

Harrington, Earl of, 33

Harris, Sir Christopher, 187, 280

Harris, Mrs., 100, 133

Harris family, the, 217

Harrison, G. H., 606

Hart, Mr. Charles, 21

Hartland, 236

Hartland Chronicle, The, 234 note, 237 note

Harwood, Colonel, 399

Hastings, 577

Hatherleigh, 54, 539, 540, 710, 712

Hatton, Lady Elizabeth, 195

Hawker, John H., 459, 460

Hawker, Rev. R. S., 52, 53

Hawker, Rev. T., 456

Hawkins, Daniel, 222

Hawkins, John, 514

Hawkins, Sir John, 785

Haydon, Benjamin, 400, 457-477, 566, 567

---- and David Wilkie, 462

---- commits suicide, 474

---- his inordinate vanity, 472, 477

---- imprisoned for debt, 471, 473

Haydon family, the, 457, 458

Hayes, Catherine, 105

Haymarket, 353

Hayne, Joseph, 25-30

Haywood, John, 689, 698

Hazlitt, William, 454

Headland, Warren, 700

Heanton, Punchardon, 329

Heath, Justice, 482

Heathfield, Lord, 479

Heavitree, 105

Heideloff, 565

Hele, Colonel Sir Thomas, 220

Hele, Eliseus, 369

Hele, Walter, 196

Hell described, 53

Hellier, Elizabeth, 250

Hellier, Mary, 502

Helmore, “Old,” 210

Helston, 741

Hemyock, 737

Hennock, 123

Henry II, 549

Henry III, 226-228, 248

Henry IV, 181

Henry V, 181, 182, 183

Henry VI, 182

Henry VII, 47

Henry VIII, 194, 229, 262, 490, 581

Heralds’ Visitation, 97, 102, 726, 754

Herbert, Lord, 487, 498

Herefordshire, 4

Heron, Sir Nicholas, 269

Heywood, John Modyford, 189

Hext, John, 628

Highway robbery, 322, 622

Hill, Hilary, 97

Himalaya, 775

Hine, Mr. J., 577, 580

History of Devonshire, 254

History of England, 271 note

History of the Great Rebellion, 211

Hobart, William, 689

Hockin, Helen, 599

Hodge, William, 64

Hogarth, William, 420, 469, 472

Holcombe Burnell, 581

Hole, Mary, 125

Holdsworth, Mr., 440

Hollar, 196

Holman, Mr., 353

Holmden, Robert, 659, 684

Holmes, Addison, 679

Holmes, John, 48

Holne, 622

Holsworthy, 47, 50, 563

Holwell, 86, 97

Homan, Rev. C. S., 261

Honeychurch, 710

Honiton, 103, 177, 322

Hood’s Comic Annual, 329

Hook, 520

Hooke, Dr., 495, 496

Hooker, Mr., 543

Hooper, 334

Hoppner, 442, 455

Hore, David, 222

Horoscopes, 186

Horse-dealing, all fair in, 536, 553

Horswell, Mr., 763

Houlditch, Mr., 553, 554

House-hunting, 130

How, 495

Howard, Elizabeth, 196

Howard, Frederick, 698

Howard, George, 201, 207, 208

Howard, Lady. See Mary Fitz

Howard, Mary, 196, 199, 209

Howard, Sir Charles, 196, 201

Howard, Sir Thomas, 195, 196

Howe, Mr., 398

Howell, James, 86, 248, 249, 251, 252, 257

Hubbard, John, 692, 696

Hubbard, Richard, 403

Hull, Homer, 684

Hume, Lady Elizabeth, 201

Humphrey, 608

Hunny, Nicholas, 595

Hunt, George, 716

Hunt, William, 578, 580

Hunting, by parsons, 529

---- worship subservient to, 533, 534

Huntsman, the Wild, 57

Huxtable, 520

Hysteria cured, 759

Ibrahim, 154, 155

Iddesleigh, 535, 539, 540, 542

Iddesleigh, Earl of, 1. See also Sir S. Northcote

Ide, 458

Ilbert, Roupe, 533

Ilfracombe, 231

Ilsington, 482

Inglett family, the, 217

Inn Play, or Cornish Hugg Wrestler., 524

Introduction to Knowledge, 441

Instow, 775, 784

Invention due to accidents, 497

---- of steam-propelled fountain, 487

---- paddle boat, 490, 493

---- pumping engines, 492, 493

---- steam engine, 498, 501

Ireland, Dr. John, 442, 453, 456

“Irish Gaffney,” 523

Isle de Laon, 86

Jackman, 519

Jackson, Edward, 688

Jackson, Thomas, 698

Jackson, William, 352, 608-617, 741

---- his sons, 616

---- musical education, 609

---- life in Exeter, 612

---- vanity, 614, 615

Jago, Dr., 209

Jamaica, 120, 121, 189, 696, 738

James I, 84, 190, 278-285, 773

James II, 241, 243

Jarvis, Captain, 310

Javasu, 38, 45

Javasu, Princess of. See Caraboo

Jedda, 382

Jekyll, Parson, 551, 552

Jennings, Sir John, 107

Jerrold, Douglas, 368

Jesus Christ, 77

Jesus, son of Sirach, 71

Jezreelites, the, 402

Joannites, the, 392, 394, 398, 400, 401

Johns, Ambrose Bowden, 566, 568

Johnson, Captain Charles, 375, 382, 387, 389

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 627

Johnson, Joseph Toker, 698

Johnson, Robert, 691

Joliffe, Major, 645, 658, 659, 662, 682, 685, 688, 689, 695, 696

Jones, Sir William, 626, 627, 630

Jonson, Ben, 451, 491, 514

Jordan, Johnny, 518, 519, 520

Journal, Brice’s Weekly, 504, 506

---- Farley’s Exeter, 504, 510

Judd, Robert, 596

Junket, Devonshire, 176

Justice of the Peace, 60

Jutsham, Henry, 619

Kaolin, 601, 605

Karslake, Prebendary, 547

Kavanagh, 269, 270

Keenan, Mr., 608

Keinsham, 179

Kelloway, 1. See Stafford

Kelly, 78, 219, 222

Kelly, Philippa, 219, 222

Kelly, William Kelly of, 219, 220

Kendall, William, 616

Kenn, 257

Kennicott, Benjamin, D.D., 369-374

---- master of charity school, 369

---- bell-ringer, 370, 371

---- education, 372

---- his fig, 373

---- revisits Totnes, 373

Kennicott family, the, 369

Kensington, 258

Kenyon, Lord, 620

Keppel Street, 25, 27, 29

Kilkenny, 226

Kilkhampton, 232

Kilworthy, 95

King, Captain, 280, 281

King, Charles, 663, 672

King, Humphrey, 251

King, Mr., 509

King, O., 271 note

King’s Bench Prison, 471

King’s evil, 80

King of the Beggars. See Bampfylde-Moore Carew

Kingsbridge, 123, 602, 737

Kingsley, Charles, 255

Kingston, Duchess of, 625

Kingston-on-Thames, 191, 731

Kingswear, 317

Kinsale, 267, 270

Kitson Hall, 25

Knighton, 123

Knock, William, 110

Knole Park, 35-41, 45, 243

Knowstone, 532, 544

Knowstone-cum-Molland, 545, 552, 554, 558, 560, 563

Körner, 174

La Chesnée, 281

Ladysmith, 786

Laguna, 112

Lainshaw, 631

Laira, 601

Lake, Dr., 324

Lambhay, 298

Lamerton, 222

Landkey, 531, 542, 543, 754

Landor, Walter Savage, 329

Land’s End, 570

Lane, Mr. John, 563, 580 note

Lanes, Devonshire, 303

Lang, Dorothy, 598

Lang, William, 594-599

---- misdemeanours of, 594-598

Langdon, Anne, 171

Langford, 97

Langford, Margaret, 97

Langford, Moses, 97

Lansdowne, Lord, 207, 211

Lanyon, Mr. Charles, 505

Lapthorn, Stephen, 694

Larder, Robert, 115, 117, 120

Larkbeare, 630

Larpent, Francis Seymour, 663, 672

La Rochelle, 239

Las Rozas, 269

Launceston, 14, 210, 212, 302, 565, 570

Lawhitton, 222, 599

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 442

Lawrence, William, 586, 587

Le Catel, 641

Le Clerc, 281, 282

Le Duc, Viollet, 564

Lee, Mr. Henry, 422

Leeds, 394, 400, 401, 499

Lee Moor, 601

Lega-Weekes, Ethel, 717

Legends and Superstitions connected with the Sacraments, 58

Leghorn, 165

Leicester House, 415

Leisure Hour, 608

Leith, 356

Le Keux, 575

Leman, Mr., 439

Lennard, Captain, 207

Lepanto, 271

Le Puy, 239

Lethbridge, 752

Letters of Nathan Hogg, 71

Levant, 35

Leverage, William, 698

Lew River, 212

Lew Trenchard, 80, 622, 624

Ley, 189

Lezant, 716

Lidstone, Mr. Thomas, 495

Life and Adventures of Captain John Avery, 375

Life and Death of Captain Thomas Stukeley, 273

Life and Surprising Adventures of James Wyatt, 122

Life and Times of Sir Peter Carew, Knight, 230

Lifton, 222

Lightfoot, Mr., 377

Lile, Matthew, 598

Lile, Prudence, 222

Lile, Robert, 597

Lilly, William, 203

Limehouse, 332

Limoges, 605

Lincoln, Ephraim, 699

Lisbon, 93, 107, 272

Liskeard, 64, 517, 570, 738

Literary History of Barnstaple, 103

Little Horton, 68

“Little Jan,” 515

Liverpool, 718, 721

Lloyd, Temperance, 274, 275, 276

Lock, Mrs., 133

Lockjaw cured, 765, 767

London, 3, 4, 42, 51, 98, 169, 174, 191, 193, 200, 226, 249, 262, 269, 276, 279, 280, 285, 291, 302, 329, 350, 358, 366, 368, 375, 396, 401, 403, 408, 413, 425, 449, 462, 472, 483, 493, 499, 510, 514, 520, 548, 571, 572, 594, 596, 602, 609, 728, 732, 738, 742

Longabrook, 123

Lopes, Sir Manasseh, 189

Lord How, 614

Lorkin, Rev. T., 285 note

Lott, Susannah, 105

Lourdes miracles, 81

Lovell, Mrs., 96

Luck, Robert, 415

Lundy Island, 224, 225, 236, 285

---- occupied by French, 233

---- ---- Mariscoes, 225, 228, 229

---- ---- Spanish, 232

---- ---- Turks, 231

---- refuge of pirates, 231, 233

Lundy Island, a History of, 225 note

Lustleigh, 124, 125, 127

Luttrell, Mr. H. Fownes, 372

Lyde, Robert, 136-151

---- a frequent captive, 137, 138

---- overcomes his captors, 142

Lydford, 205, 212

Lyme, 310, 314

Lymington, 393

Lymington, Lord, 774

Lympston, 152

Lyons, 239

Lysons, Mr., 95, 103, 248-250, 253, 255, 414, 754

Mabinogion, the Welsh, 225

Macartney, Lord, 616

Mace, 417

Maclean, Sir John, 229

Macleod family, the, 631

Madagascar, 379, 387, 388, 389

Madame Pickle, 240

Madeira, 115, 315

Madness, homicidal, 176

Madras, 388

Madrid, 92, 269

Mæviad, 450, 451, 455

Magdalen Reformatory, 43

Magna Britannia, 248, 250, 414

Magna Charta, 5

Magrath, Dr., 656 note, 659, 667, 676, 677, 679, 684

Mahometan cruelty, 156

Mahon, Lord, 624

Maiden Bradley, 431

Maid of Sker, 549, 556, 561

Malaga, 108

Malborough, 494

Manchester, 570

Mandins, The, 38

Mania, religious, 390, 392-398

Manila, 776, 777, 784

Mann, James, 698

Manning, Mr., 28

Manning, Joseph, 685

Mannourie, 280, 283

Manse, Mr., 26

Mansell, Sir Robert, 84, 85

Mansfield, Lord, 620

Marburg, 489, 493

Margate, 405

“Marianne, Old,” 75-78

---- her recipes, 77

Marisco, William de, 225, 228

---- Jordan de, 225, 226

---- family, 229, 285

Maristowe, 189

Marlborough, 26

Marlborough College, 564

Marmion, Frances, 239

Marriage, conceptions of, 69

Marriott, Mr., 290, 291

Marryatt, Mr., 607

Marshall, Edward, 249

Marshalsea, 284, 716

Marston, Chancellor, 214

Mary, Queen, 151, 263, 265

Mary, Queen of Scots, 33

Maryland, 234, 235, 430, 431, 434

Mary Tavy, 61, 514

Massinger, 451

Mathews, Joe, 708

Mathews, Mrs., 42, 43

Mathews, Prebendary, 556, 563

Maxwell, Hon. Mr., 133

Mayne, Dr. Jasper, 710

Mayoralty House, Plymouth, 95

Mazora, 332, 349

McFarlane, Robert, 684

McHardy, Anne, 356

Mears, Henry, 68

Mecca, 159, 381

Medical advice, 726, 740, 754, 758, 761, 768, 769

---- misinterpreted, 765

Medina, Duke of, 88, 91

Medina, first described by Pitts, 159

Meggor, Captain, 232

Melish, John, 698

Memoirs and Correspondence of John Murray, the Publisher, 456

Memoirs of Jack Rattenbury, 307

Memoirs of the Life and Mission of Joanna Southcott, 403

Memoirs of Prout, 577

Memorials of Old Devonshire, 319 note

Menhirs, 127

Mentz, 167

Mercurius Rusticus, 221

Mercury, 502

Mere, 289

Merripit Hill, 703

Merry Conceited Jests, 734

Merry, Robert, 450

Meshaw, 548

Methodist preacher and Black John, 55

Methodist revivalistic preaching, 390, 508

Metz, 264

Mevagissey, 318

Mile Hill, 431

Milford Haven, 231

Milford, Mr. S. F., 485

Mill Bridge, 409

Milton Abbot, 209, 222

Miners’ Friend, The, 492

Mining, tin, 491, 701, 705

Minorca, 420

Miraculous cures. See White Witches

Mitchell, John, 674

Mitchell, William, 692

Mithian, 742

M’Kinnon, Kiel, 689

Mobiad, The, 510

“Mock Election in Prison,” 471

Modbury, 63, 189, 489, 490, 619

Mogridge, Mr., 257, 258

Mogul, the Great, 376, 380, 384

Mole-catcher, spectre of, 170

Moles, 735

Molesworths, family of, 47, 48, 56

Molesworth, the Rev. Paul W., 48, 51, 53

Molesworth, Sir John, 56

Molesworth, Sir W., Bart., 48

Molesworth, William, 50

Molland, 545, 551, 561

Molt, Thomas Burgess, 683

Money, by fair means or foul, 729, 730, 750

Monk, Anthony, 278

Monk, Frances, 278

Monk, General, 242, 590

Monkleigh, 182, 184

Monmouth, Duchess of, 415

Montbrison, 238

Montcalm, Henry, 698

Moon, Mr., 42

Moonshine, Mr., 451

Moore, Thomas, 67

Moorhead, Mr., 353

More, Hannah, 625, 750

Morgan, Colonel, 487

Moreton Hampstead, 79, 123, 127, 186, 517, 700, 703, 746

Morice Town, 520

Morland, Sir Samuel, 489

Morland, William, 608

Morleigh, 608

Morley, Lord, 714

Morning Chronicle, The, 396, 780, 784

Morris, Mr., 540

Morshead, William, 56

Mortimer, Mr., 41

Mott, Thomas Burgess, 689

Mountain, Mr., 353

Mount Edgcumbe, Earl of, 567

Mount Edgcumbe, Lady, 750

Mount Pleasant, 409, 410

Mumper, a professional. See B.-M. Carew

Murray, 450

Mutiny at the Nore, 356, 358, 359, 368

---- of American prisoners, 645

---- on the high seas, 379

Mutiny at Spithead and the Nore, 368

Nankevill, 306

Nan Tap, 71

Nantes, 206

Naples, 725

“Napoleon Musing,” 457

Napp, 235

Nares, George, 256, 257

Narracott, 73

Narrator, 702

Narrative of a Singular Imposition, 46

Narrative of the Demon of Spraiton, A, 174

Natt, Philip, 598

Navy, unsatisfactory condition of the, 355

Neale, Mrs., 41

Nelson, Lord, 484, 785

Newark, 400

New Brunswick, 725

Newcastle, 429

Newcastle, Penn., 430

New Collection of Songs and Poems, 241

Newcomen, Thomas, 487-501

---- his family history, 494

---- his secrecy in experimenting, 495

---- patents with Savery, 497

Newell, 115

New England, 384

Newfoundland, 152, 428, 440, 718

Newgate, 105, 416

New Jersey, 697

Newlands Weir, 710

New London, 430, 431

Newlyn, 505

New Orleans, 779

Newquay, 318

Newton Abbot, 703, 770

Newton St. Petrock, 754

New York, 309

New York Herald, 784

Nicholl, Anthony, 596

Night her Blackest Sables Wore, The, 241

Nimmo, J. C., 734

Nit, Anthony, 732, 733

Noake’s Worcestershire Relics, 13

Nore, the, 356, 357, 360, 363

Norris, Mrs., 377

North, Lord, 630

North Bovey, 64, 65, 701, 716, 707

Northcote, 571, 572

Northcote, Sir Henry, Bt., 1

Northcote, Sir Stafford, 479, 616

Northcote, Mr., 462

Northcott, John, 187

North Devon Journal, 543

Northernhay, 79

Northesk, Lord, 360

North Lew, 371

North Tawton, 81, 251, 709, 714, 754, 755, 770

Northumberland, Earl of, 193, 194, 263, 264, 735

North Wyke, 709

---- forcible possession taken of, 713

Norton, Sir Fletcher, 630

Notes and Gleanings, 368, 403

Nottingham, Earl of, 231, 283

Nutt, Captain Robert, 231

Observations on the Present State of Music in London, 614, 615

Ockment, 540

Oddy, Mrs., 260

Odiorne, John, 677, 678, 680, 681, 691

Okehampton, 7, 59, 209, 210, 218, 570

Okery Bridge, 638

Old-a-Port, 619

Old Bailey, 105, 730

Old Dartmoor Days, 544

“Old Dawty,” 53

Old England for Ever, 478, 486

Old English Home, An, 74

Old Swinford, 392

Oliver, Dr., 509, 512

Oliver, Mr. Francis, 8

Olver, Francis, 519

On and Off the Stage, 33

Opie, John, 566, 608, 741, 752

Oporto, 11, 138, 313

Orchards neglected, 12, 13

Orinoco, 278, 279

Orne, William B., 689

Orpheus Caledonicus, 241

O. T. D., 48

Otter, 322

Otterton, 584, 590

Ottery St. Mary, 390, 451

Ovid, 244

Owen, Mr. Robert, 725

Oxenford, John, 325

Oxenham family, the, 249-254, 257-261

---- fictitious members of, 250, 252

Oxenham, Miss Anne, 260

Oxenham, G. N., 258, 260

Oxenham, Rev. Henry Nutcombe, 258

Oxford, 13, 123, 202, 203, 324, 372, 448, 547, 612, 726

Oxford, Lady, 735

Packsaddle Bridge, 710

Paganel, Sir William de, 62

Page, Eulalia, 95-106

---- executed, 96

---- omitted from pedigree, 97

---- privy to her husband’s death, 100

Page, Mr., 95, 98

---- strangled, 96, 99

Paignton, 332, 333, 350

Painsford, 371

Palk, Captain John, 700-708

---- exacts obedience, 703

---- buys Vitifer mine, 702

Palk, Governor, 447

Palk, Mr., 20

Palk, Sir Lawrence, 20, 479, 482, 483

Palk, Sir Robert, 479

Palladio, 575

Palma, 108

Palmer, Roundell, 756

Papin, Denis, 489, 492, 496, 497, 499

Paris, 281, 434, 499, 616, 641

Paris, Matthew, 227

Parker, “Admiral” Richard, 355-368

---- executed, 363

---- is ringleader of mutiny, 356, 361

---- his wife’s distress, 363

Parker, Edmund, 713

Parker, John C., 367

Parkham, 414, 436, 754

Parkins, Sir Thomas, 516, 517, 524

Parnel, 334

Pasley, Sir Thomas, 361

Passaford, 540

Passports for heaven, 392

Pastorals, 447

Patch, Claude, 430

Payne, 34

Peace of Ryswick, 377

Peach, John, 699

Peachum, Polly, 417, 418

Pearce, Mr. John, 591, 702, 703

Peckettsford, 710

Peckham, 590

Peeke, “Manly” Richard, 84-94

---- his pamphlet, 94

---- is freed for prowess, 91

---- wounds and is wounded, 87

Peele, George, 726-736

---- a quack, 727

---- is compelled to work, 728

---- a rogue at large, 730

Pelham, Camden, 355, 367, 368

Pell, Mr. Sergeant, 481

Pencarrow, 54, 56

Pendennis Castle, 220

Pengelly, William, 221, 500 note

Penguins, 342

Penkenner, 56

Penn, William, 698

Pennington, John, 232

Penzance, 260, 483, 505, 738

Pepusch, 417

Perceval, Isaac, 347, 348, 349

Percy, Sir Allan, 195

Perigo, Mr. and Mrs., 394

Perim, 382

Perouse, 353

Perrot, Sir John, 262

Perry, John, 699

Perry, Mr., 109

Peter, Mrs. Thomas, 259

Peter Pindar. See John Wolcot

Petersham, Viscount, 33

Petertavy, 702

Petherbridge, 349

Pett, George, 688

Philadelphia, 45, 430, 644, 698

Philip II of Spain, 267-272

Philip’s Norton, 177

Phillpotts, Henry, Bishop of Exeter, 48, 529, 531, 538, 556, 557

Phipps, Stephen, 699

Picard, 388

Picaroons, 301

Pills to Purge Melancholy, 52, 57, 244, 246

Pilton Bridge, 2

Piozzi, Mrs., 450

Pirates, King of. See Captain John Avery, 375

Pirates, Algerine, 84, 152

---- English, 267

Pirates on Lundy, 228

---- in Madagascar, 388, 389

Pitt, Captain, 388

Pitt, Hon. Thomas, 605

Pitt, William, 3, 6, 481-484, 750

Pitts, John, 152

Pitts, Joseph, 152-169

---- turns Mohammedan perforce, 153, 156, 159

---- his escape, 165

Plague at Exeter, 103

Plancy, Colin de, 58

Playford, publisher, 244

Plotting Sisters, The, 247

Plumleigh, Captain, 231

Plymouth, 2, 21, 62, 81, 89, 93, 96, 101-103, 106, 108, 204, 278, 283, 292, 296, 298, 300, 377, 385, 407, 440, 458, 463, 520, 565, 568, 570, 578, 602, 606, 633, 645, 673, 708, 712, 746, 755, 757, 770, 784, 786

Plymouth and Devonport, in Times of War and Peace, 62, 64 note, 106, 300, 641

Plymouth Sound, 93, 280, 786

Plymtree, 392

Pocahontas, 278

Pocket-boroughs, 189

Poetry and blank verse, difference between, 706

Poisoning, cases of, 293, 597

Pole, Sir W. T., 584

Polkinghorne, 518-523

Pollard, Mark, 232

Pollard, Sir Lewis, 262

Poltergeist, 174, 291

Polwhele, 254, 511, 621, 741

Pomeroy, Mr., 391

Pomeroy, Mrs., 391-393

Ponies, Alphington, 17

Pontefract, 66

Poole, 428

Pop, Ashburton, 478

Pope, Alexander, 244, 416, 736

Pope Pius V, 271

Pope Gregory XIII, 272

Porcelain, 604

Porchester, 429

Porlock, 533

Port Arthur, 779

Port Eliot, 569

Porter, Captain Thomas, 86, 88

Porteus, Bishop, 750

Portland Bill, 311

Porto Farino, 158

Portsmouth, 350, 440, 634

Portsmouth, Earl of, 546, 774

Port St. Maria, 86

Post Bridge, 706

Postman Poet, the. See Edward Capern

Potheridge, 278

Potter, Humphrey, 498

Poughill, 534

Poundstock, 56

Powell, Mr., 98

Powlett, 419

Praed, Mr., 18

Prat, Rev. R., 584

Pratt, Miss, 484

Press-gang, 313, 314

Pressoville, Captain, 232

Preventive men, 307

---- outwitted, 303, 304, 305

Prideaux, John, 606

Prideaux, Robert, 97-104

Pridhamsleigh, 438, 618, 622, 628

Prince, 182, 183, 191, 257

Prince Charles and the Spanish Marriage, 285

Prince Rock, 298

Princess Sophia, Electress Dowager of Hanover, 243

Princetown, 186, 407

Prisons, state of, 485, 505

---- debtors in, 505

---- See Dartmoor, Fleet, etc.

Probus, 569

Prouse family, arms of, 565

Prout, Samuel, 564-580

---- delicate health of, 566

---- his passion for music, 567

---- his piety, 577

---- his Studies and other works, 572

---- in Cornwall with Britton, 568, 570

---- painter of architecture, 568

Puckering, Sir T., 283, 285 note

Pugin, Augustus, 575

Pugin, A. Welby, 575

Pugsley, Christopher, 597

Punch, 420

Puntal, 86

Purcell, Henry, 240, 245

Putford, 599

Pycroft, George, 580

Pynes, 1, 12, 616

Quaker meetings, 603, 704

Quarterly Review, The, 452

Quarter-staffe, 90, 94

Queensberry, Duke of, 421

Quicke, John, 295-300

Quebec, 721

Radford, 187, 194, 279

Radford, Mrs., 194, 209, 211, 768

Radish, Captain, 107

Raglan Castle, 487

Raleghana, 285

Raleigh, 772

Raleigh, Sir John, 772

Raleigh, Sir Walter, 278-284, 785

---- arrested, 279

---- plans escape, 280

Rattenbury, Jack, 301-319

---- deserter, 313, 318

---- his hairbreadth escapes, 314, 317, 318

---- turns smuggler, 315

Recipe for burns or scalds, 77, 78

---- a sprain, 77

---- stanching blood, 77

---- toothache, 77

---- whooping cough, 77

---- eczema, 77

Redruth, 520

Reece, Dr. Richard, 396, 397, 404

Reeves, James, 694

Reeves, John, 692

Reeves, Sims, 420

Reinagle, 469

Reminiscences of an Old West-country Clergyman, 64, 537 note, 550, 563

Rendal, Mr., 613

Rendall, George, 232

Rennel, Dr., 593, 608

Resurrection of J. Southcott, the expected, 398-401

Resurrectionists, the Stoke, 405-413

Resurrections, unexpected, 55, 593

Revenge, The, 108, 121

Reynolds, Rev. Mr., 592

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 442, 611, 627, 743

Rhodes, 162-164

Rich, Mr., 417, 418

Richard II, 182

Richards, Dr., 535

Richardson, Captain, 45

Richardson, Rev. J., 472

Richmond, Duke of, 263

Rickman, Mr., 564, 575

Riots in Exeter, 482

Risdon, 183, 254

Risdon family, the, 414

Rivers, Earl, 195

Roberts, John, 699

Roberts, Miss, 259

Roberts, Mr., 65

Robertson, Mrs., 450

Robins, Mr., 27

Rochester, 364, 366

Rock, Mr. W. F., 327

Rockingham, Marquess of, 630

Rogers, Captain Woods, 387, 389

Roland for an Oliver, A, 34

Rolfe, Thomas, 278

Rolle, Lady, 20, 591

Rolle, Lord, 319, 479

Rolle, Mr., 747

Roman road, 212

Rome, 240, 271

Romero, Julian, 270

Roscoff, 306

Ross, 109, 272

Ross, Dr., 112, 113

Ross, John, Bishop of Exeter, 747

Rotterdam, 168

Rouen Cathedral, 573

Rowe, Cornelius, 695

Rowe, Nicholas, 222

Rowles, William, 687

Rowley, Rear-Admiral Sir Josias, 650

Royal George, 126

Royal Wilding, 6-9, 12, 13

Royal William, 313

Roy Cades, 104

Ruan-Lanyhorne, 570

Rudiments of Landscape, 572

Runt, Mrs., 133

Rural Sports, 415

Ruskin, John, 573, 575, 577, 578, 580

Russell, Parson Jack, 530-544, 556

---- encounters his bishop, 531, 532

---- his schooldays, 535

---- tests a curate, 543

---- his views on sport, 540-542

Rust, John, 685

Ryan, William, 111

Ryde, 451

Ryder, Mary, 737

Saddles, a judge of, 479

Sadler’s Wells, 353

Sales, M. de, 388

Salisbury, 21, 43, 280, 281, 590, 747

Salisbury, Marquess of, 45, 779

Salisbury Plain, 43

Salkeld, Captain, 231

Salmon, 389

Salter, Dr. Anthony, 712, 713

Saltfleetby, 494

Salford Museum, 396

Saltford, 177

Salthill, 465

Sampford Courtenay, 716

Sampford Ghost, The, 286-291

Sampford Peverell, 286, 291

Sandridge Park, 301, 632

Santa Cruz, 111-114

Sanxay, James, 48

Satires on King and Court, 744

Satirists, two eminent. See John Wolcot and William Gifford

Saunders, John, 686

Savery, Mr., 458

Savery, Rev. S., 448

Savery, Thomas, 487-501

---- his family history, 489

---- invents paddle-boat, 490

---- patents with Newcomen, 496

Savile, Rev. Bourchier Wrey, 725

Savoy, Duke of, 265

Saxon conquest, site of, 212

Scarlett, Mr., 29

Schaggel, Mr. Peter, 292

Schneeburg, 604

Schnorr, 604

Schomberg, Captain, 650

School of Shakespeare, The, 262

Scilly Islands, 136

Scio, 161, 163, 164

Scorrier, 544

Scott, Sir Gilbert, 564

Scott, Sir Walter, 451, 452, 455

Seacroft, 632

Seal-hunting, 333, 339, 349

Sea-sickness, 758

Seaton, 310

Seddons, Mr., 395

Selby, Anne, 631

Semple, Francis, 241

Senegal, 119, 120, 121

Sèvres, 605

Seymour, Lord, 229

Seymour, Sir Edward, 432

Shakespeare, William, 181, 273

Shakespeare Society’s Papers, 97

Shaldon, 624

Shan O’Neil, 266, 267, 268

Sharp, the engraver, 393, 400

Sheepstor, 517, 702

Sheerness, 358, 359, 361, 363, 364

Sheppard, Rev. H. H., 210, 371

Sherborne, 280

Sherwell, 533

Sherwill, 773, 784

Shiloh, the expected, 394, 395, 401, 404

Shilston, 217, 490

Shilstone, dolmen of, 127

Shipwreck, 333

Shore, Juliana Susannah, 584

Short, Anthony, 196

Short History of Social Life in England, 51

Short, J., 256, 257

Shortland, Capt. Thomas G., 642, 643, 650, 666, 696

---- charges against, 653

---- his account of the massacre, 659

---- orders massacre of prisoners, 646

---- practical joke on, 645

Short View of the Profaneness and Immorality of the English Stage, 242

Shute, 367

Sibley, 402

Sidmouth, 257, 307

Sidney, 269

Siege of Memphis, The, 240

Simmins, Dick, 525

Simpson, Richard, 262

Sims, Dr., 396

Skellum Grenville. See Sir Richard

Skirrett, John, 97

Skisdon, 56

Skynner, William, 232

Slade, 458

Slanning, Gamaliel, 191

Slanning, Nicholas, 188-191

Slaughter, 315

Sleeman, Mr., 531, 532, 543

Smerdon, Hugh, 438, 440, 444

Smerdon, Rev. Thomas, 446

Smiles, Samuel, 454, 456, 490, 498

Smith, Gerard, 691

Smith, Mr., 115, 592

Smith, Sarah, 590

Smith, Thomas, 698

Smith, William, 687

Smugglers, 301-319

---- desperate, 306, 318

Smuggling, 301, 378

---- adventures while, 315

---- conveniences for, 301-305

Smyrna, 84, 160, 161, 162

Snell, Mr., 319 note

Snow, Miss Marianne, 718

Snow, Mistress, 72

Snowe, Richard, 597

Soathern, John, 695

Somerset, Duke of, 263, 264

Somerstown, 752

Songs of the West, 57, 210, 368 note

“Sons of the Blue,” 56

Soper, John, 345, 346, 347, 348

Sourton Down, 212

South Brent, 210

Southcott, Joanna, 390-404

---- authorities for the life of, 403

---- comes under Methodist influence, 390

---- expected resurrection of, 398

---- issues certificates for the millennium, 394

---- mother of Shiloh, 394

---- prophetess, 391

Southcote, Mary, 711

Southey, 392

Southgate, Exeter, 320, 504, 505

South Hams, 9-11

Southill, 535

Southmolton, 285, 437, 519, 536, 538, 544, 546, 555, 560

South Tawton, 248, 250, 253, 254, 709

Southwark, 185

South Zeal, 250

Speedwell, 152

Spesinick, Dominic, 345-348

Spitchwick, 627

Spithead, 313, 359

Sport advocated by Parson Russell, 540, 541

Spreyton, 170, 171

Spry, Mr., 508

Spry, Thomasine, 52

Stafford, Bridget Maria, 1

Stafford family, the, 1

Stafford, Hugh, 1-15

---- experiments in cyder, 11

Stage, licentiousness of the, 23, 242

---- defended by Brice, 508

Stamford, the Earl of, 221

Standard, The, 785

St. Andrew’s Church, Plymouth, 36, 567, 578

Stanhope, Charles, 33

Stanwich, George, 95-104

Stapeldon, Bishop, 438

Starcross, 150

St. Austell, 524, 570, 601, 602, 605, 704

Staverton, 618, 622, 624

St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, 413

St. Columb, 518, 520, 524, 605, 754

St. Dunstan’s, 251

Steam-propelled fountain, 487

Steam pumping-engines, 492, 496

Stephens, Mary, 251

Stewart, Dr., 757

St. Genny’s Church, 56

St. German’s, 569

St. Giles’ Hospital, 42

St. James, Westminster, 247

St. John, Sir William, 281

St. John’s College, Cambridge, 564

St. Just, Count of, 239

St. Lawrence’s Chapel, 438

St. Leger, 268

St. Leger, Frances, 278

St. Malo, 136, 137, 139, 141

St. Martin’s, 353

St. Mary Major, 356

St. Michael’s Mount, 206

Stockleigh English, 533

Stockleigh Pomeroy, 533

Stoke Church, 409-411

Stoke Fleming, 494

St. Omer, 265

Stone, James, 519

Stone, Tom, 97-104

Stoneham, Isaac, 136

Stonehouse, 459

Stonehouse Creek, 409

Story, Mr. Douglas, 782

Stourbridge, 404 note

Stow, 231

Stowford. See Stafford

Stowford, Sir John, 2

---- builder of Pilton Bridge, 2

St. Paul’s, 401, 609, 752

St. Peter, 77, 246

St. Peter’s Hospital for Vagrants, 37

St. Quintin, 265

Strangwidge. See Stanwich

Strode, William, 200

St. Sebastian, 231

St. Sidwell, 19

St. Stephen’s, 371, 565, 605, 616

St. Thomas’s, 505, 507, 591

Stucley family, the, 262, 278, 710

Stucley, Thomas, 262-273, 278, 285

---- rumoured illegitimacy of, 262

---- escapes arrest, 265, 269

---- as a pirate, 267

---- character of, 272, 278

Stukeley, Sir Lewis (“Judas”) 278-285

---- arrests Raleigh, 279

---- his madness and death, 285

---- robs and betrays his cousin, 280, 282

St. Vincent, Lord, 785

St. Yrīeix, 605

Successful Pyrate, The, 377

Suffolk, Earl of, 196, 199, 200-202, 207, 263

Sumatra, 37

Sunday Monitor, 398

Sun-gleams and Shadows, 329

Superstition concerning death, 255

Surat, 380, 381

Sussex, Earl of, 267

Sutton Pool, 763

Swanage, 311, 312

Swanwick, Mr., 115, 118

Swift, Jonathan, 416, 737

Switzer, 492, 496

Swymbridge, 530, 531, 534, 542-544, 754

Sydenham, 222

Sydenham, Mary, 185, 186

Sydenham, Sir John, 185

Synge, M. B., 51

Tailbois, Elizabeth, 263

Tally, Mr., 286, 290

Tamar Green, 520, 521

Tamerton Foliot, 189

Tappa-Boo, 38

Tar Steps, 551, 552

Taunton, 42, 291

Taunton Courier, The, 286, 287, 290

Taunton Dean, 175

Tavistock, 85, 94-98, 102, 104, 123, 185-190, 198, 201, 204, 209, 570, 599, 636, 700, 702, 708, 772

Tavy River, 702

Taw River, 2, 710

Tawney, Robert Willet, 698

Taylor, Mr. Thomas, 446, 459

Teignmouth, 591, 718

Teignmouth, Lord, 584

Teign River, 755

Temple, Lord, 6

Templer, Colonel, 591

Tenby, 310

Teneriffe, 108, 111-113, 315

Terdrew, Robert, 597

Tetcott, 47, 54

---- register of, 48, 49

Tew, Captain, 385

Thackeray, W. M., 105

Theatres, Cheltenham, 24

---- Covent Garden, 23, 420

---- Drury Lane, 377 note, 416

---- Gaieté, 499

---- Haymarket, 353, 418

---- Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 417

---- Olympic, 32

---- Plymouth, 21

Thomas, Grace, 274, 275

Thomas, Hannah, 276

Thomas, Mr., 353

Thompson, Hartley, 68

Thomson, James, 241

Thomson, Joseph, 67

Thorncombe, 430

Thorne, 518

Thornton, Rev. W. H., 64, 537 note, 550, 563

Three to One, Being an English-Spanish Combat, 94

Thrushelton, 737

Thurlow, Mr., 621

Thynne, Thomas, Lord Weymouth, 433

Tickell, Mr., 716

Ticknor, George, 453

Tilbury, 207

Tindale, Thomas, 695

Tiverton, 14, 72, 81, 286, 291, 318, 326, 426, 438, 535, 553, 556

Tomlinson, Mr., 606

Tom Thumb, 474

Tooke, Horne, 620

Tooker, Joan, 251

Topsham, 136, 138, 150, 168

Tor Abbey Avenue, 16

Torbay, 150, 350, 643

Tordown, 542

Torgate, 16

Torquay, 16-18, 332, 418

Torridge River, 182

Torrington, Black, 544, 563

Torrington, Great, 65, 103, 182, 370, 597

Tosse, Mr., 19

Totnes, 170, 171, 369-373, 490, 520, 632, 634

Tower Hill, 366

Tozer, John, 685

Tozer, Rev. W., 399, 403

Transactions of the Devonshire Association, 1870, 225 note

---- 1874, 423

---- 1876, 456, 603 note, 606, 632

---- 1878, 374

---- 1879, 94

---- 1880, 324

---- 1882, 258, 500 note, 617, 354

---- 1886, 230 note

---- 1888, 510 note, 513

---- 1890, 195 note, 211

---- 1900, 261 note

Transvaal, 775

Travers, John, 609

Treason, petty, 104

Trefry, Will, 515

Tregonnin Hill, 605

Trelawny family, the, 738

Trembles, Mary, 274, 276

Trowbridge, 107

Trowbridge, John T., 685

Truely, Thomas, 698

Truro, 508, 570, 605, 740, 741, 754

Tucker, Mistress, 71, 72

Tuckfield, Mr. 593

Tunis, 154, 158

Turnarine, John, 754

Turnbull, James, 699

Turner, J. M. W., 578

Tutt, John, 687

Twickenham, 192, 194

Twigg, Mark, 597, 599

Ulphé, Pierre, 238

Underhill, J., 414

Underwood, Ann, 399

Universal Magazine, 502 note

Universal Traveller, 389

Upton Hellions, 351, 352

Ure, Mr., 606

Urfé, Peter, 238. See D’Urfey

Van Diemen’s Land, 350

Vandyke, 196

Vane, Sir Ralph, 264

Vanity, inordinate, 475, 585

Veale, Captain, 332, 334, 340, 345

Veale, Mr., 540

Veale, Mrs., 220

Veitch, Messrs., 12

Venice, 577

Vernon, 209

Vestris, Madame, 32

Vetus Testamentum Hebraicum, 372

Victoria, Queen, 783

Vigers, Thomas, 597

Vigo, 270, 313

Vindication of Sir Richard Grenville, 211

Vines, Rev. Mr., 577

Virginia, 136, 234, 236, 237, 279, 605

Virte, Baroness de, 631

Visions, 583, 725. See also Warnings

Vitifer mines, 700-704

Wakelin, William, 694

Walker, J., 750

Walker, Richard, 693

Walkhampton, 618

Walpole, Sir Robert, 4, 419, 420

Walreddon, 187, 196, 202, 208, 209

Want, Mr., 397

Wapping, 230

Warburton, Mr., 405, 412

Ward, William, 693

Wardship, law of, 194

Warminster, 434

Warne, Mr., 702

Warnings of death, 586, 590, 591, 719. See also Bird of the Oxenhams

Warren, David Spencer, 669, 682, 693

Warren Inn, 700, 702, 703, 707

Warren, James, 520

Washfield, 14

Washington, 697

Washington, John, 698

Waterford, 269

Waterhouse, Henry, 697

Watts, G. F., 457, 476

Waugh, Edwin, 326, 328

Waymouth, Peter, 494

Wayside Warbles, 328

Wearmouth, Susanna, 602

Webber, Simon, 519

Weekes, Katherine, 712-715

Weekes, Richard, 709-717

---- takes possession of North Wyke, 713

Weekes family, the, 710

Weekly Times, The, 558

Weeks, William, and family, 292-296, 300

Welcombe, 534

Welland, 135

Welland, Anna Maria, 133, 134

Welland, John, 133

Wellington, 175, 553

Wellington, Duke of, 18, 19

Wells, 463

Wells, James, 699

Wemble, Captain, 108

Wembury, 107

Wesley, John, 508

West, Benjamin, 571, 745

Westbury, 41

West Combe Park, 419

Westcote, 183

Western Antiquary, The, 502 note

West Indies, 387

Westminster, 373

Westminster Abbey, 421, 456

Weston, Mrs. Elizabeth, 257

West Webburn, 700

West Worlington, 262

Wexford, 269

Weymouth, 158, 314, 315

Weymouth, Lord, as a beggar, 432, 433, 434

Wharton, 418

Wharton, Duke of, 243

What a Blunder, 353

Wheal Fortune, 499

Wheeler, Amos, 685

Whimple, 14

Whitaker, Rev. John, 511, 570

Whitbread, 745

Whitchurch, 97, 532

White, Ensign, 670

White, Nicholas, 269

Whitechapel Churchyard, 367

Whitefield, George, 430

Whiteford, S. T., 368

White-Sour cyder, 10, 13

Whitestone, 7, 8, 56

Whiteway, Mr. H., 13, 14 note

White Witches, 70

---- Mistress Tucker of Exeter, 71

---- Mistress Snow of Tiverton, 72, 80

---- Old Marianne, 74

---- at Callington, 81

---- their wonderful perception, 73

---- levy blackmail, 74

---- their recipes, 77, 79

---- modern instances of their craft, 82

Whitfeld, Mr. F., 62, 64, 106, 300, 641

Whitford, Joseph, 662

Whittlebanks, Edward, 698

Whyte, /R.N./, Commander R. C., 783

Widdecombe-on-the-Moor, 518, 622, 624, 627, 707

Widworthy, 772

Wife-sales, 58-69

---- advertisement of, 60

---- rules for, 64, 69

Wilkie, David, 462

Wilkinson, Dr., 40, 41

Willcocks, Mary. See Caraboo

Willcocks, Mr., 44

Willet, John, 698

William III, 232-234, 242, 243, 384, 388, 492

William IV, 367

Williams, Gabriel, 597

Williams, John, 687

Williams, Mr., 544

Williams, Mrs., 422

Williams, Sir Trevor, 487

Williamson, Isaac H., 697

Willinghull, 763

Willis, Captain, 312

Willmead, 126

Wilmot, Sir Zachary, 175

Wilson, John, 632, 699

Wilson, Peter, 699

Wimbledon, Lord, 85, 93

Wincherdon, 243

Winchester, 105

Winde, Sir Robert, 283

Windeatt, Mr. Edward, 374

Wine of the West Country, 14

Winkleigh, 126

Winsford, 552

Winsor, Justin, 698

Winter, Captain, 115, 120

Wit and Mirth, or Pills to Purge Melancholy, 244

Witches, the Bideford, 274-276

---- meet the devil, 275, 276

---- inflict injuries, 274, 275, 276

---- executed, 274, 276

---- See also White Witches

Witheridge, 42, 44

Wolborough, 65

Wolcot, John, 451, 613, 737-753

---- as painter, 742

---- as parson, 739

---- as satirist, 743

---- as surgeon, 738, 739, 741

Wollacott, 737

Wollocombe, 1

Wollocombe family, the, 1

Wollocombe, Rev. J. H. Bidlake, 221

Wollocombe, Rev. John Stafford, 221

Wollocombe, Rev. Robert, 8, 9, 11, 14

Wolverhampton, 499

Wood, Alexander, 714

Wood, Anthony à, 728

Wood, Mr., 248

Woodall, Mrs., 591

Woodbury, 107

Woodley, Robert, 251

Woodroffe, Thomas, 597

Woodstock, 227

Woolton, John, Bishop of Exeter, 215

Woolwich, 282

Worall, Mrs., 35-45

Worall, Samuel, 35, 37

Worcester, Marquess of, 487, 489, 491, 498

Worcester opposes cyder tax, 4, 5

Worcestershire Relics, 13

Worcester, William of, 229

Worth, R. N., 603 note, 606

Worthies of Devon, 182

Wrays, William, 215

Wreford, William, 519

Wrestlers, Devonshire, 518-520

Wrestling, notice of match, 534

---- matches, 518-523

---- rules for, 515, 522, 527, 528

---- song of, 525

Wyatt, James, 107-122

---- an Admirable Crichton, 112-114

---- fights against Moors, 116-118

---- his adventures on the Revenge, 108

---- his escape, 115

Wyatt, Mr., 472

Wycombe, 726

Wyke, Thomas, 225

Wykes-Finch, Rev. William, 717

Wyot, Philip, 103, 104

Xeres, 88

Yarmouth Roads, 360

Yeo, 2, 545, 774

Yeo, John, 595

Yeo, Robert, 595

Yes Tor, 709

York Minster, 574

Youlston, 772, 773, 784

Young family, arms of, 619

Young Neptune, 115

Young, Sir Samuel, 616

Young, William, 231

Zankwell, Mr., 742

Zeal Monachorum, 249, 250, 253, 713

Zemzem, 393

BOOKS OF THE WEST COUNTRY

THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF ROBERT STEPHEN HAWKER

Sometime Vicar of Morwenstow. Compiled by his Son-in-Law, /C. E. Byles/, from hitherto unpublished manuscripts. With numerous Illustrations, including Lithographs by /J. Ley Pethybridge/, two Sketches by the /Earl of Carlisle/, reproductions from contemporary Prints, Portraits, Photographs, etc. Crown 8vo. Price 7s. 6d. net.

TIMES.--“A well-written life is not, as Carlyle declared it to be, almost as rare as a well-spent one; it is a much rarer thing indeed. Mr. Byles has given us a book which will earn the gratitude of those whose love of poetry urges them to a knowledge of the poet.... Hawker dedicated his works to Prince Posterity, and the dedication will be accepted by many readers of the new biography, who will find in Robert Hawker one of the knights of his own Sangraal, ‘thorough men.’”

MORNING POST.--“Gratitude is distinctly due to Mr. Byles for his new life of his father-in-law.... There are many excellent illustrations.... Mr. J. Ley Pethybridge has the very spirit of the West Country.”

DAILY TELEGRAPH.--“As soon as the volume is opened one finds oneself in the presence of a real original, a man of ability, genius, and eccentricity, of whom one cannot know too much.... He was every inch a man.... No one will read this fascinating and charmingly produced book without thanks to Mr. Byles and a desire to visit--or revisit--Morwenstow.”

DAILY NEWS.--“Here at length is the authentic life--the record, mainly in his own letters, of one of the most fascinating, wayward, independent personalities of the nineteenth century. The man here wrote out his heart’s confession.... The comparison is, indeed, with Carlyle.... Each possessed a spiritual vision denied to the common crowd; each mingles passages of eloquence and lamentation with outbreaks of fury and a shaggy, boisterous humour. Hawker was a unique figure in Victorian England.”

STANDARD.--“A breezy book, with plenty of salt in it--of the sea and of common-sense.”

CORNISH BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS

By ROBERT STEPHEN HAWKER

Edited, with a Preface, by /C. E. Byles/. With numerous Illustrations by /J. Ley Pethybridge/ and others, and a special binding designed from oak carvings in the churches of Morwenstow and Welcombe.

Crown 8vo, 5s. net.

This book contains Hawker’s complete poetical works, including several pieces previously uncollected.

TIMES.--“‘The Quest of the Sangraal’ is an exquisitely moulded torso ... the fragment of his epic gives him a sure place among the poets who are only minor because their supreme moments are few.”

ACADEMY.--“His fragment of the ‘Sangraal’ is worthy to be compared with Tennyson’s treatment of the subject.... The excellent popular edition.... Essential to every lover of the Cornish poet.”

* * * * *

FOOTPRINTS OF FORMER MEN IN FAR CORNWALL

By ROBERT STEPHEN HAWKER

Edited, with an Introduction, by /C. E. Byles/, and containing numerous Illustrations by /J. Ley Pethybridge/. Crown 8vo, 5s. net. [Uniform with “Cornish Ballads.”]

LITERARY WORLD.--“Reading these sketches, we come upon passages which Ruskin himself might have written. There is in them a rare rich flavour of the author’s individuality, something of the atmosphere, the colour, the rugged grandeur of the coast.”

WORLD.--“His book is a peculiarly delightful one, full of that indescribable charm which permeates Scott’s novels.... The style is inimitable, the anecdotes are quaint and original, and the illustrations are well chosen and excellently reproduced; and a word of praise is due to the tasteful binding.”

* * * * *

THE WINGLESS VICTORY. By /M. P. Willcocks/. Crown 8vo, 6s.

TIMES.--“Such books are worth keeping on the shelves, even by the classics, for they are painted in colours that do not fade.”

OUTLOOK.--“A very remarkable work, which places Miss Willcocks in the first rank ... a novel built to last.”

TRIBUNE.--“Miss Willcocks’s splendid book ... a very strong and able novel, deserving high praise and wide popularity--a novel to read and to remember.”

DAILY MAIL.--“‘The Wingless Victory’ stands out as something quite out of the common.... In its grasp of character and circumstance, in its rare wisdom, and, above all, in its unerring insight into the deep springs of human action, it is a remarkable achievement which entitles its author to a first place in the ranks of contemporary novelists. This is high praise, but we venture to prophesy it will be endorsed by critics and readers alike.”

STANDARD.--“It is an excellent thing for any reader to come across a book so fresh and fervent, so instinct with genuine passion and emotion, and all the fierce primitive joys of existence, as is the ‘The Wingless Victory’ ... really a book of remarkable strength and glow and insight.”

DAILY NEWS.--“Miss Willcocks shows wonderful insight into character ... and her skill in this regard and in her descriptions of the wild beauty of the Cornish scenery often make us feel that she is a novelist with a great future.”

ACADEMY.--“Mr. John Lane is to be congratulated on having discovered Miss Willcocks, and if her latest work is not a great success, it will not be creditable to the discernment of the reading public.”

* * * * *

WIDDICOMBE: A Novel. By /M. P. Willcocks/. Crown 8vo, 6s.

MORNING POST.--“The characterisation is both discriminating and subtle.”

EVENING STANDARD.--“Wonderfully alive ... a fine, rather unusual novel. There are some striking studies of women.”

* * * * *

A CHILD OF THE SHORE: A Romance of Cornwall. By S. M. Fox. Crown 8vo, 6s.

MORNING LEADER.--“A remarkable book, glowing, fanciful, and fantastic by turns.”

OUTLOOK.--“An unusually good piece of imaginative work.”

* * * * *

THE FISHERS: A Novel. By /J. H. Harris/. Crown 8vo. 6s.

MORNING POST.--“A notable book.”

TIMES.--“A fascinating story; the author is thoroughly well informed as to his subject.”

* * * * *

THE CHRONICLE OF A CORNISH GARDEN. By /Harry Roberts/. With 7 Full-page Illustrations and a Cover Design by F. L. Griggs. Crown 8vo, 5s. net.

THE LITERARY WORLD.--“The Chronicle is written in a frank, unaffected style, and will suggest useful ideas to other garden lovers.”

SIR BEVILL

By ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER THYNNE

With 7 Illustrations by /J. Ley Pethybridge/, and a Portrait of Sir Bevill Granville after Vandyck.

Crown 8vo, 6s.

ACADEMY.--“Altogether delightful, setting the reader amid broom and heather on the Devon moors, or by the sounding sea on the Cornish coast.... All the everyday life is admirably rendered, and many of the side characters are brilliantly sketched.”

SATURDAY REVIEW.--“Master Teague is almost as magnificent in his hypocritical villainy as our old friend Trusty Tomkins of ‘Woodstock.’ ... The stag hunt, the witch hunt, the gipsy camp, the Court masque, and the battle are admirable.”

OUTLOOK.--“A very living and lovable bit of work, sweet with the scent of heather and breath of the sea.”

DAILY MAIL.--“A rollicking good romance of Stuart days.”

DAILY EXPRESS.--“Well written, exciting, and breezy of the western moors.”

/Mr. G. R. SIMS/, in REFEREE.--“A most delightful book, the work of an old friend of mine, Canon Thynne, who has, in ‘Sir Bevill,’ told with skill and charm and authority, a story of the days of Charles I. I have spent some sleepless nights very pleasantly with ‘Sir Bevill.’”

DAILY CHRONICLE.--“The author describes well, and has the gift of telling incident.”

CORNISH SAINTS AND SINNERS

By J. HENRY HARRIS

With upwards of 70 Drawings by L. Raven Hill.

Crown 8vo, 6s.

LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD, VIGO ST., W.

NOTICE

Those who possess old letters, documents, correspondence, MSS., scraps of autobiography, and also miniatures and portraits, relating to persons and matters historical, literary, political and social, should communicate with Mr. John Lane, The Bodley Head, Vigo Street, London, W., who will at all times be pleased to give his advice and assistance, as to their preservation or publication.

LIVING MASTERS OF MUSIC

An Illustrated Series of Monographs dealing with Contemporary Musical Life, and including Representatives of all Branches of the Art. Edited by /Rosa Newmarch/. Crown 8vo. Cloth, 2_s._ 6_d._ net each volume.

HENRY J. WOOD. By /Rosa Newmarch/. SIR EDWARD ELGAR. By /R. J. Buckley/. JOSEPH JOACHIM. By /J. A. Fuller Maitland/. EDWARD MACDOWELL. By /L. Gilman/. EDVARD GRIEG. By /H. T. Finck/. THEODOR LESCHETIZKY. By /A. Hullah/. GIACOMO PUCCINI. By /Wakeling Dry/. ALFRED BRUNEAU. By /Arthur Hervey/. IGNAZ PADEREWSKI. By /E. A. Baughan/.

The following Volumes are in preparation:

RICHARD STRAUSS. By /A. Kalisch/. CLAUDE DE BUSSY. By /Franz Liebich/.

STARS OF THE STAGE

A Series of Illustrated Biographies of the Leading Actors, Actresses, and Dramatists. Edited by /J. T. Grein/. Crown 8vo. 2_s._ 6_d._ each net.

⁂ It was Schiller who said: “Twine no wreath for the actor, since his work is oral and ephemeral.” “Stars of the Stage” may in some degree remove this reproach. There are hundreds of thousands of playgoers, and both editor and publisher think it reasonable to assume that a considerable number of these would like to know something about actors, actresses, and dramatists, whose work they nightly applaud. Each volume will be carefully illustrated, and as far as text, printing, and paper are concerned will be a notable book. Great care has been taken in selecting the biographers, who in most cases have already accumulated much appropriate material.

First Volumes.

ELLEN TERRY. By /Christopher St. John/. HERBERT BEERBOHM TREE. By /Mrs. George Cran/. W. S. GILBERT. By /Edith A. Browne/. CHAS. WYNDHAM. By /Florence Teignmouth Shore/. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW. By /G. K. Chesterton/. ARTHUR WING PINERO. By /E. A. Baughan/. HENRY ARTHUR JONES. By /Anthony Ellis/.

A CATALOGUE OF MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHIES, ETC.

WORKS UPON NAPOLEON

NAPOLEON & THE INVASION OF ENGLAND:

The Story of the Great Terror, 1797-1805. By /H. F. B. Wheeler/ and /A. M. Broadley/. With upwards of 100 Full-page Illustrations reproduced from Contemporary Portraits, Prints, etc.; eight in Colour. Two Volumes. 32_s._ net.

⁂ Hitherto no book dealing exhaustively with Napoleon’s colossal plans for invading the United Kingdom, and our own strenuous measures to resist his coming, has appeared in the English language. This work, which has been in preparation for several years, is a careful study of this neglected phase of Napoleonic history. It not only deals with the military and naval preparations made by both nations, but with the more picturesque side of their campaign. While Napoleon was riding along the sands of Boulogne encouraging the shipbuilders and organising the Army of England--which was to conquer half Europe as the Grand Army--Pitt was drilling Volunteers at Walmer Castle, Fox was exercising as a private in the Chertsey Volunteers, and the peace-loving Addington appeared in the House of Commons in military uniform. The churches were stored with arms, and two hours’ drilling was undergone every Sunday, to say nothing of week-days. Never before or since has the pencil of the cartoonist played so important a part in the formation of public opinion. Patriotism on paper was rampant. From 1798 till 1805, when Trafalgar lifted the war-cloud which hung over the Kingdom, pen and press were turning out history in pictures by hundreds, as well as popular songs. Caricatures, squibs, and broadsides against Napoleon and the threatened invasion did much to encourage the population to prepare to resist the legions of France. The facile pencils of Gillray, the Cruikshanks, Ansell, Rowlandson, West, Woodward, and a score of lesser lights, were never idle. Many unique cartoons and other illustrations appear in these volumes, which also include important letters, never before published, of George III, the Duke of Buckingham, Lord Brougham, Decies, Richard Cumberland, Thomas Order Powlett, Mrs. Piozzi, and other celebrities.

THE FALL OF NAPOLEON. By /Oscar Browning/, /M.A./, Author of “The Boyhood and Youth of Napoleon.” With numerous Full-page Illustrations. Demy 8vo (9 × 5-3/4 inches). 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

⁂ The story of the fall of Napoleon has never been adequately written for English readers, and great misconception still exists in this country even with regard to the most material facts. The present volume attempts to supply this omission, and makes use of the copious recent literature on this portion of Napoleon’s life, which adds so largely to our knowledge of the subject. The narrative begins with Napoleon’s return to Paris after the Russian disaster. It gives a complete account of the campaigns of 1813 and 1814, based very largely upon personal knowledge of the battlefields. The events connected with the abdication at Fontainebleau are carefully described. The life in Elba is painted, and the marvellous march to Paris dealt with in detail. In treating of the Hundred Days the attitude of the English Government has received much attention, and the Waterloo campaign has been dealt with from the point of view of the best and most recent authorities. The book concludes with a minute account of Napoleon’s surrender at Aix, which has never before been properly presented in an English dress, and leaves Napoleon on board the “Northumberland.” The book will form a companion volume to “The Boyhood and Youth of Napoleon,” by the same author.

THE BOYHOOD &. YOUTH OF NAPOLEON, 1769-1793. Some Chapters on the early life of Bonaparte. By /Oscar Browning/, /M.A./ With numerous Illustrations, Portraits, etc. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

Daily News.--“Mr. Browning has with patience, labour, careful study, and excellent taste given us a very valuable work, which will add materially to the literature on this most fascinating of human personalities.”

Literary World.--“ ... Mr. Browning has examined all the available sources of information and carefully weighed his historical evidence. His discriminating treatment has resulted in a book that is ... one that arrests attention by the conviction its reasoned conclusions carry.”

World.--“The story of Napoleon’s childhood could not have had an abler or more sympathetic narrator than the author of this very fascinating work.”

* * * * *

THE DUKE OF REICHSTADT (NAPOLEON II.) By /Edward de Wertheimer/. Translated from the German. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo. 21s. net. (Second Edition.)

Times.--“A most careful and interesting work which presents the first complete and authoritative account of the life of this unfortunate Prince.”

Westminster Gazette.--“This book, admirably produced, reinforced by many additional portraits, is a solid contribution to history and a monument of patient, well-applied research.”

Public Opinion.--“No student of Napoleon’s life can afford to miss this book, which tells the story of his son, who was variously known as King of Rome, the Duke of Parma, Napoleon II, and the Duke of Reichstadt.... The story of his life is admirably told.”

Bookman.--“This is the first authoritative book on the subject of the Duke of Reichstadt (Napoleon II) and his short, dramatic life. The present biography is full of fresh interest, and is exceptionally valuable owing to the numerous portraits which are included.”

* * * * *

NAPOLEON’S CONQUEST OF PRUSSIA, 1806. By /F. Loraine Petre/, Author of “Napoleon’s Campaign in Poland, 1806-7.” With an Introduction by /Field-Marshal Earl Roberts/, V.C., K.G., etc. With Maps, Battle Plans, Portraits, and 16 Full-page Illustrations. Demy 8vo (9 × 5-3/4 inches). 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

Scotsman.--“Neither too concise, nor too diffuse, the book is eminently readable. It is the best work in English on a somewhat circumscribed subject.”

Outlook.--“Mr. Petre has visited the battlefields and read everything, and his monograph is a model of what military history, handled with enthusiasm and literary ability, can be.”

* * * * *

NAPOLEON’S CAMPAIGN IN POLAND, 1806-1807. A Military History of Napoleon’s First War with Russia, verified from unpublished official documents. By /F. Loraine Petre/. With 16 Full-page Illustrations, Maps, and Plans. New Edition. Demy 8vo (9 × 5-3/4 inches). 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

Army and Navy Chronicle.--“We welcome a second edition of this valuable work.... Mr. Loraine Petre is an authority on the wars of the great Napoleon, and has brought the greatest care and energy into his studies of the subject.”

* * * * *

RALPH HEATHCOTE. Letters of a Diplomatist During the Time of Napoleon, Giving an Account of the Dispute between the Emperor and the Elector of Hesse. By /Countess Günther Gröben/. With Numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo (9 × 5-3/4 inches). 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

⁂ Ralph Heathcote, the son of an English father and an Alsatian mother, was for some time in the English diplomatic service as first secretary to Mr. Brook Taylor, minister at the Court of Hesse, and on one occasion found himself very near to making history. Napoleon became persuaded that Taylor was implicated in a plot to procure his assassination, and insisted on his dismissal from the Hessian Court. As Taylor refused to be dismissed, the incident at one time seemed likely to result to the Elector in the loss of his throne. Heathcote came into contact with a number of notable people, including the Miss Berrys, with whom he assures his mother he is not in love. On the whole, there is much interesting material for lovers of old letters and journals.

* * * * *

MEMOIRS OF THE COUNT DE CARTRIE. A record of the extraordinary events in the life of a French Royalist during the war in La Vendée, and of his flight to Southampton, where he followed the humble occupation of gardener. With an introduction by /Frédéric Masson/, Appendices and Notes by /Pierre Amédée Pichot/, and other hands, and numerous Illustrations, including a Photogravure Portrait of the Author. Demy 8vo. 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

Daily News.--“We have seldom met with a human document which has interested us so much.”

Dundee Advertiser.--“The identification and publication of the Memoirs of Count de Cartrie are due to as smart a piece of literary detective work as has been reported for many years.”

Liverpool Courier.--“Mr. Lane and his French coadjutors are entitled to the utmost credit for the pains which they have taken to reconstruct and publish in such complete form the recollections of an eyewitness of important events concerning which even now no little dubiety exists.”

Athenæum.--“As a record of personal suffering and indomitable perseverance against opposing circumstances the narrative of De Cartrie’s escape to the Eastern frontier, in the disguise of a master-gunner, could not easily be surpassed.”

World.--“The book is very entertaining, and will be read with pleasure by all who delight in the byways of history.”

* * * * *

WOMEN OF THE SECOND EMPIRE. Chronicles of the Court of Napoleon III. By /Frédéric Loliée/. With an introduction by /Richard Whiteing/ and 53 full-page Illustrations, 3 in Photogravure. Demy 8vo. 21_s._ net.

Standard.--“M. Frédéric Loliée has written a remarkable book, vivid and pitiless in its description of the intrigue and dare-devil spirit which flourished unchecked at the French Court.... Mr. Richard Whiteing’s introduction is written with restraint and dignity.”

Mr. /James Douglas/ in the Star.--“At a moment when most novels send you to sleep, let me whisper the name of a book which will amuse you in most melancholy mood. One of the freshest, gayest, and wittiest volumes of gossip and anecdote I have ever read.”

Sunday Times.--“A delicious banquet of scandal, contributions to which have been secured by the artful device of persuading ladies not so much to make their own confessions as to talk about their friends.... The illustrations present us with a veritable galaxy of beauty.”

Daily Telegraph.--“It is a really fascinating story, or series of stories, set forth in this volume.... Here are anecdotes innumerable of the brilliant women of the Second Empire, so that in reading the book we are not only dazzled by the beauty and gorgeousness of everything, but we are entertained by the record of things said and done, and through all we are conscious of the coming ‘gloom and doom’ so soon to overtake the Court. Few novels possess the fascination of this spirited work, and many readers will hope that the author will carry out his proposal of giving us a further series of memories of the ‘Women of the Second Empire.’”

MEMOIRS OF MADEMOISELLE DES ÉCHEROLLES. Translated from the French by /Marie Clothilde Balfour/. With an Introduction by /G. K. Fortescue/, Portraits, etc. 5_s._ net.

Liverpool Mercury.--“ ... this absorbing book.... The work has a very decided historical value. The translation is excellent, and quite notable in the preservation of idiom.”

* * * * *

JANE AUSTEN’S SAILOR BROTHERS. Being the life and Adventures of Sir Francis Austen, /G.C.B./, Admiral of the Fleet, and Rear-Admiral Charles Austen. By J. H. and /E. C. Hubback/. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo. 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

Morning Post.--“ ... May be welcomed as an important addition to Austeniana ...; it is besides valuable for its glimpses of life in the Navy, its illustrations of the feelings and sentiments of naval officers during the period that preceded and that which followed the great battle of just one century ago, the battle which won so much but which cost us--Nelson.”

Globe.--“The book is doubly fortunate in its appearance, for it appeals not only to the lovers of Jane Austen’s novels, but also to those who value sidelights on the most stirring times of the Navy.”

* * * * *

POETRY AND PROGRESS IN RUSSIA. By /Rosa Newmarch/. With 6 full-page Portraits. Demy 8vo (9 × 5-3/4 inches). 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

⁂ This book deals with an aspect of Russian literature hitherto unjustly neglected in favour of the school of realistic fiction. Nevertheless, the poets of the earlier half of the 19th century were the pioneers of the intellectual progress which culminated in the work of that Pleiad of novelists: Gogol, Tourgeniev, Dostoievsky, and Tolstoi. The spirit of Russia can never be more than imperfectly understood by those who, without preparation, plunge straightway into this tide of realism which marks only the second stage in the evolution of the national genius. Mrs. Newmarch’s volume covers a period extending from the first publications of Poushkin, in 1814, to the death of Nadson, in 1886, and consists of an Introduction and six studies, as follows: Poushkin, the first and greatest of the Russian national poets; Lermontov, the meteoric poet of the Romantic School; Koltsov, the Russian Burns; Nikitin, the singer of Russian rural life; Nekrassov, the poet of revolution; and Nadson, whose work is characteristic of the decadence of Russian poetry.

* * * * *

THE LIFE OF PETER ILICH TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893). By his Brother, /Modeste Tchaikovsky/. Edited and abridged from the Russian and German Editions by /Rosa Newmarch/. With Numerous Illustrations and Facsimiles and an Introduction by the Editor. Demy 8vo. 21_s._ net. Second edition.

The Times.--“A most illuminating commentary on Tchaikovsky’s music.”

World.--“One of the most fascinating self-revelations by an artist which has been given to the world. The translation is excellent, and worth reading for its own sake.”

Contemporary Review.--“The book’s appeal is, of course, primarily to the music-lover; but there is so much of human and literary interest in it, such intimate revelation of a singularly interesting personality, that many who have never come under the spell of the Pathetic Symphony will be strongly attracted by what is virtually the spiritual autobiography of its composer. High praise is due to the translator and editor for the literary skill with which she has prepared the English version of this fascinating work.... There have been few collections of letters published within recent years that give so vivid a portrait of the writer as that presented to us in these pages.”

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COKE OF NORFOLK AND HIS FRIENDS: The Life of Thomas William Coke, First Earl of Leicester of the second creation, containing an account of his Ancestry, Surroundings, Public Services, and Private Friendships, and including many Unpublished Letters from Noted Men of his day, English and American. By /A. M. W. Stirling/. With 20 Photogravure and upwards of 40 other Illustrations reproduced from Contemporary Portraits, Prints, etc. Demy 8vo. 2 vols. 32_s._ net.

⁂ The name of Coke of Norfolk was once known throughout the civilized world, now it is familiar to very few. Coke occupied a unique position in his generation: as a landlord-owner he was credited with having transformed the agriculture of both hemispheres; as a politician he remained for over half a century the “Father” of the House of Commons, exercising by the force of his example a peculiar influence upon the political world of his day. He was offered a peerage seven times for his services by seven different Prime Ministers. Coke was especially fortunate in his friendships, and he preserved his correspondence. The letters of the noted men of his day recreate Coke’s generation for us, and we see many famous men in a guise with which we are but little acquainted. We see Lafayette as the humble farmer, absorbed in rearing his pigs and his cattle; Lord Hastings as a youth climbing a volcano during an eruption; George IV as the fickle friend, pocketing humiliation in order to condone deceit, or, at a period of exciting national danger, filling his letters to Coke with characteristically trivial speculations whether the Sergeant whom he was sending to recruit the Holkham Yeomanry would, or would not, get drunk. Again, we see Fox as a slovenly schoolboy playing pitch-and-toss at Eton; Nelson, but as the delicate son of an obscure Norfolk clergyman. Incongruous in their endless variety, the characters move across the pages--Pope Clement XIV, Louise of Stolberg, Dr. Parr, Amelia Opie, Honest King William, the Duke of Sussex, Chantrey, Lord Erskine, Gainsborough, Roscoe, Sir James Smith, Sir Humphry Davy--statesmen, scientists, artists, literati, a great international train, amongst whom, and perhaps more remarkable than all at that especial date, are celebrities from the United States--at a date when, be it remembered, all who came thence were looked at askance as the recent foes of England, and were, as Raitres remarks--“Foreigners, and of a nation hitherto but little known in our circles.” And for all this we have had to wait sixty-five years, because, of the many biographies commenced, the one that swallowed up all the rest was eventually lost. A feature of this book is the wealth of illustrating material, including many hitherto unpublished pictures by famous hands.

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DEVONSHIRE CHARACTERS AND STRANGE EVENTS. By /S. Baring-Gould/, /M.A./, Author of “Yorkshire Oddities,” etc. With 58 Illustrations. Demy 8vo. 21_s._ net.

⁂ Notices of some of the most singular characters and events connected with the County of Devon--a county that has been exceptionally prolific of such. The personages named, and whose lives are given, belong to a lower plane than the great men of the county who have made their mark in history. But the range of characters is really wonderful. The volume is profusely illustrated with reproductions from old and rare prints.

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THE HEART OF GAMBETTA. Translated from the French of /Francis Laur/ by /Violette Montagu/. With an Introduction by /John Macdonald/, Portraits and other Illustrations. Demy 8vo. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

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THE MEMOIRS OF ANN, LADY FANSHAWE. Written by Lady Fanshawe. With Extracts from the Correspondence of Sir Richard Fanshawe. Edited by /H. C. Fanshawe/. With 38 Full-page Illustrations, including four in Photogravure and one in Colour. Demy 8vo (9 × 5-3/4 inches). 16_s._ net.

⁂ This Edition has been printed direct from the original manuscript in the possession of the Fanshawe Family, and Mr. H. C. Fanshawe contributes numerous notes which form a running commentary on the text. Many famous pictures are reproduced, including paintings by Velazquez and Van Dyck.

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THE TRUE STORY OF MY LIFE: an Autobiography by /Alice M. Diehl/, Novelist, Writer, and Musician. Demy 8vo. 10_s._ 6_d._ net.

⁂ These confessions, written with a naïve frankness rare in present times, have been pronounced by an authority to be a human document of utmost importance to all interested in the great subjects of life and genius. During the years following a remarkable childhood of prodigies of literary and musical attainments, the Author made brilliant careers, first in the world of music, then in that of literature. An intimate friend of the late Sir Henry Irving, his confidences to her throw a new light on the inner life of this somewhat enigmatical man. But the same may also be said of her friendship or acquaintance with many other personages of world-wide renown. In music, we read of Berlioz, Ferdinand Hiller, Jenny Lind, Sivori, Thalborg, Henselt (her master in his Silesian Castle), Piatti, Sainton and his wife, Pietzius, Cruvelli, the Princess Czartoryska, and other eminent pupils of Chopin, as well as a host of others known in all countries and climes. In literature, besides such stars as Robert Browning, Bret Harte, “Ouida,” Miss Braddon, Mrs. Riddell, Amelia B. Edwards, R. E. Hichens, the work abounds in familiar sketches of former men and women whose names are so well known that any information about their personalities is of absorbing interest.

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THE LIFE OF ST. MARY MAGDALEN. Translated from the Italian of an Unknown Fourteenth-Century Writer by /Valentina Hawtrey/. With an Introductory Note by /Vernon Lee/, and 14 Full-page Reproductions from the Old Masters. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

Daily News.--“Miss Valentina Hawtrey has given a most excellent English version of this pleasant work.”

Academy.--“The fourteenth-century fancy plays delightfully around the meagre details of the Gospel narrative, and presents the heroine in quite an unconventional light.... In its directness and artistic simplicity and its wealth of homely detail the story reads like the work of some Boccaccio of the cloister; and fourteen illustrations taken from Italian painters happily illustrate the charming text.”

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MEN AND LETTERS. By /Herbert Paul/, /M.P./ Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

Daily News.--“Mr. Herbert Paul has done scholars and the reading world in general a high service in publishing this collection of his essays.”

Punch.--“His fund of good stories is inexhaustible, and his urbanity never fails. On the whole, this book is one of the very best examples of literature on literature and life.”

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HUBERT AND JOHN VAN EYCK: Their Life and Work. By /W. H. James Weale/. With 41 Photogravure and 95 Black and White Reproductions. Royal 4to. £5 5_s._ net.

/Sir Martin Conway’s Note./

Nearly half a century has passed since Mr. W. H. James Weale, then resident at Bruges, began that long series of patient investigations into the history of Netherlandish art which was destined to earn so rich a harvest. When he began work Memlinc was still called Hemling, and was fabled to have arrived at Bruges as a wounded soldier. The van Eycks were little more than legendary heroes. Roger Van der Weyden was little more than a name. Most of the other great Netherlandish artists were either wholly forgotten or named only in connection with paintings with which they had nothing to do. Mr. Weale discovered Gerard David, and disentangled his principal works from Memlinc’s, with which they were then confused. During a series of years he published in the “Beffroi,” a magazine issued by himself, the many important records from ancient archives which threw a flood of light upon the whole origin and development of the early Netherlandish school. By universal admission he is hailed all over Europe as the father of this study. It is due to him in great measure that the masterpieces of that school, which by neglect were in danger of perishing fifty years ago, are now recognised as among the most priceless treasures of the Museums of Europe and the United States. The Publication by him, therefore, in the ripeness of his years and experience, of the result of his studies on the van Eycks is a matter of considerable importance to students of art history. Lately, since the revived interest in the works of the Early French painters has attracted the attention of untrained speculators to the superior schools of the Low Countries, a number of wild theories have been started which cannot stand upright in the face of recorded facts. A book is now needed which will set down all those facts in full and accurate form. Fullness and accuracy are the characteristics of all Mr. Weale’s work.

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/VINCENZO FOPPA OF BRESCIA, Founder of the Lombard School, His Life and Work./ By /Constance Jocelyn Ffoulkes/ and /Monsignor Rodolfo Majocchi/, /D.D./, Rector of the Collegio Borromeo, Pavia. Based on research in the Archives of Milan, Pavia, Brescia, and Genoa, and on the study of all his known works. With over 100 Illustrations, many in Photogravure, and 100 Documents. Royal 4to. £5. 5_s._ net.

⁂ No complete Life of Vincenco Foppa, one of the greatest of the North Italian Masters, has ever been written: an omission which seems almost inexplicable in these days of over-production in the matter of biographies of painters, and of subjects relating to the art of Italy. In Milanese territory--the sphere of Foppa’s activity during many years--he was regarded by his contemporaries as unrivalled in his art, and his right to be considered the head and founder of the Lombard school is undoubted. His influence was powerful and far-reaching, extending eastwards beyond the limits of Brescian territory, and south and westwards to Liguria and Piedmont. In the Milanese district it was practically dominant for over a quarter of a century, until the coming of Leonardo da Vinci thrust Foppa and his followers into the shade, and induced him to abandon Pavia, which had been his home for more than thirty years, and to return to Brescia. The object of the authors of this book has been to present a true picture of the master’s life based upon the testimony of records in Italian archives; all facts hitherto known relating to him have been brought together; all statements have been verified; and a great deal of new and unpublished material has been added. The authors have unearthed a large amount of new material relating to Foppa, one of the most interesting facts brought to light being that he lived for twenty-three years longer than was formerly supposed. The illustrations will include several pictures by Foppa hitherto unknown in the history of art and others which have never before been published, as well as reproductions of every existing work by the master at present known.

* * * * *

JUNIPER HALL: Rendezvous of certain illustrious Personages during the French Revolution, including Alexander D’Arblay and Fanny Burney. Compiled by /Constance Hill/. With numerous Illustrations by /Ellen G. Hill/, and reproductions from various Contemporary Portraits. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

Daily Telegraph.--“ ... one of the most charming volumes published within recent years.... Miss Hill has drawn a really idyllic and graphic picture of the daily life and gossip of the stately but unfortunate dames and noblemen who found in Juniper Hall a thoroughly English home.”

The Times.--This book makes another on the long and seductive list of books that take up history just where history proper leaves off.... We have given but a faint idea of the freshness, the innocent gaiety of its pages; we can give none at all of the beauty and interest of the pictures that adorn it.”

Westminster Gazette.--“Skilfully unified and charmingly told.”

* * * * *

JANE AUSTEN: Her Homes and Her Friends. By /Constance Hill/. With numerous Illustrations by /Ellen G. Hill/, together with Reproductions from Old Portraits, etc. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

World.--“Miss Constance Hill has given us a thoroughly delightful book....”

Spectator.--“This book is a valuable contribution to Austen lore.”

Daily Telegraph.--“Miss Constance Hill, the authoress of this charming book, has laid all devout admirers of Jane Austen and her inimitable novels under a debt of gratitude.”

Manchester Guardian.--“The volume is the most valuable accession made since the publication of her Letters, to our knowledge, of Jane Austen.”

The Times.--“Related with an engaging naïveté.”

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THE HOUSE IN ST. MARTIN’S STREET. Being Chronicles of the Burney Family. By /Constance Hill/, Author of “Jane Austen, Her Home, and Her Friends,” “Juniper Hall,” etc. With numerous Illustrations by /Ellen G. Hill/, and reproductions of Contemporary Portraits, etc. Demy 8vo. 21_s._ net.

World.--“This valuable and very fascinating work.... Charmingly illustrated.... Those interested in this stirring period of history and the famous folk who were Fanny Burney’s friends should not fail to add ‘The House in St. Martin’s Street’ to their collection of books.”

Mr. /C. K. Shorter/ in Sphere.--“Miss Hill has written a charming, an indispensable book.”

Graphic.--“This is the most interesting, as well as the most charming collection of Fanny Burney’s letters that we remember to have seen. Miss Constance Hill has written and compiled this volume in a truly admirable manner, and all readers owe her a deep debt of gratitude.”

Bookman.--“To lay down this book is like being forced to quit a delightful and congenial company.”

Morning Post.--“ ... the authoress of this book has made a compilation which is full of charm and entertainment, and she may fairly be said to have succeeded in her object of recreating some of the domestic atmosphere of a very delightful family.”

Globe.--“This is a thoroughly engaging book, bright and thoughtful, and delightful in its simple humanness.”

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STORY OF THE PRINCESS DES URSINS IN SPAIN (Camarera-Mayor). By /Constance Hill/. With 12 Illustrations and a Photogravure Frontispiece. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

Truth.--“It is a brilliant study of the brilliant Frenchwoman who in the early years of the eighteenth century played such a remarkable part in saving the Bourbon dynasty in Spain. Miss Hill’s narrative is interesting from the first page to the last, and the value of the book is enhanced by the reproductions of contemporary portraits with which it is illustrated.”

British Weekly.--“We rejoice to see this new and cheaper edition of Miss Hill’s fascinating and admirable book.”

NEW LETTERS OF THOMAS CARLYLE. Edited and Annotated by /Alexander Carlyle/, with Notes and an Introduction and numerous Illustrations. In Two Volumes. Demy 8vo. 25_s._ net.

Pall Mall Gazette.--“To the portrait of the man, Thomas, these letters do really add value; we can learn to respect and to like him the more for the genuine goodness of his personality.”

Morning Leader.--“These volumes open the very heart of Carlyle.”

Literary World.--“It is then Carlyle, the nobly filial son, we see in these letters; Carlyle, the generous and affectionate brother, the loyal and warm-hearted friend, ... and above all, Carlyle as the tender and faithful lover of his wife.”

Daily Telegraph.--“The letters are characteristic enough of the Carlyle we know: very picturesque and entertaining, full of extravagant emphasis, written, as a rule, at fever heat, eloquently rabid and emotional.”

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THE NEMESIS OF FROUDE: a Rejoinder to “My Relations with Carlyle.” By /Sir James Crichton Browne/ and /Alexander Carlyle/. Demy 8vo. 3_s._ 6_d._ net.

Glasgow Herald.--“ ... The book practically accomplishes its task of reinstating Carlyle; as an attack on Froude it is overwhelming.”

Public Opinion.--“The main object of the book is to prove that Froude believed a myth and betrayed his trust. That aim has been achieved.”

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NEW LETTERS AND MEMORIALS OF JANE WELSH CARLYLE. A Collection of hitherto Unpublished Letters. Annotated by /Thomas Carlyle/, and Edited by /Alexander Carlyle/, with an Introduction by Sir /James Crichton Browne/, /M.D./, /LL.D./, /F.R.S./, numerous Illustrations drawn in Lithography by /T. R. Way/, and Photogravure Portraits from hitherto unreproduced Originals. In Two Volumes. Demy 8vo. 25_s._ net.

Westminster Gazette.--“Few letters in the language have in such perfection the qualities which good letters should possess. Frank, gay, brilliant, indiscreet, immensely clever, whimsical, and audacious, they reveal a character which, with whatever alloy of human infirmity, must endear itself to any reader of understanding.”

World.--“Throws a deal of new light on the domestic relations of the Sage of Chelsea. They also contain the full text of Mrs. Carlyle’s fascinating journal, and her own ‘humorous and quaintly candid’ narrative of her first love-affair.”

Daily News.--“Every page ... scintillates with keen thoughts, biting criticisms, flashing phrases, and touches of bright comedy.”

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/ÉMILE ZOLA: Novelist and Reformer./ An Account of his Life, Work, and Influence. By /E. A. Vizetelly/. With numerous Illustrations, Portraits, etc. Demy 8vo. 21_s._ net.

Morning Post.--“Mr. Ernest Vizetelly has given ... a very true insight into the aims, character, and life of the novelist.”

Athenæum.--“ ... Exhaustive and interesting.”

M.A.P.--“ ... will stand as the classic biography of Zola.”

Star.--“This ‘Life’ of Zola is a very fascinating book.”

Academy.--“It was inevitable that the authoritative life of Emile Zola should be from the pen of E. A. Vizetelly. No one probably has the same qualifications, and this bulky volume of nearly six hundred pages is a worthy tribute to the genius of the master.”

Mr. /T. P. O’Connor/ in T.P.’s Weekly.--“It is a story of fascinating interest, and is told admirably by Mr. Vizetelly. I can promise any one who takes it up that he will find it very difficult to lay it down again.”

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MEMOIRS OF THE MARTYR KING: being a detailed record of the last two years of the Reign of His Most Sacred Majesty King Charles the First, 1646-1648-9. Compiled by /Allan Fea/. With upwards of 100 Photogravure Portraits and other Illustrations, including relics. Royal 4to. 105_s._ net.

Mr. /M. H. Spielmann/ in The Academy.--“The volume is a triumph for the printer and publisher, and a solid contribution to Carolinian literature.”

Pall Mall Gazette.--“The present sumptuous volume, a storehouse of eloquent associations ... comes as near to outward perfection as anything we could desire.”

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AFTER WORCESTER FIGHT: being the Contemporary Account of King Charles II.’s escape, not included in “The Flight of the King.” By /Allan Fea/. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo. 15_s._ net.

Morning Post.--“The work possesses all the interest of a thrilling historical romance, the scenes of which are described by the characters themselves, in the language of the time, and forms a valuable contribution to existing Stuart literature.”

Western Morning News.--“Mr. Fea has shown great industry in investigating every possible fact that has any bearing on his subject, and has succeeded in thoroughly establishing the incidents of that romantic escape.”

Standard.--“ ... throws fresh light on one of the most romantic episodes in the annals of English History.”

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KING MONMOUTH: being a History of the Career of James Scott, the Protestant Duke, 1649-1685. By /Allan Fea/. With 14 Photogravure Portraits, a Folding-plan of the Battle of Sedgemoor, and upwards of 100 black and white Illustrations. Demy 8vo. 21_s._ net.

Morning Post.--“The story of Monmouth’s career is one of the most remarkable in the annals of English History, and Mr. Fea’s volume is singularly fascinating. Not only does it supplement and correct the prejudiced though picturesque pages of Macaulay, but it seems to make the reader personally acquainted with a large number of the characters who prominently figured in the conspiracies and in the intrigues, amorous and political, when society and politics were seething in strange cauldrons.”

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FRENCH NOVELISTS OF TO-DAY: Maurice Barres, Réné Bazin, Paul Bourget, Pierre de Coulevain, Anatole France, Pierre Loti, Marcel Prévost, and Edouard Rod. Biographical, Descriptive, and Critical. By /Winifred Stephens/. With Portraits and Bibliographies. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

⁂ The writer, who has lived much in France, is thoroughly acquainted with French life and with the principal currents of French thought. The book is intended to be a guide to English readers desirous to keep in touch with the best present-day French fiction. Special attention is given to the ecclesiastical, social, and intellectual problems of contemporary France and their influence upon the works of French novelists of to-day.

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THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF ROBERT /Stephen Hawker/, sometime Vicar of Morwenstow in Cornwall. By /C. E. Byles/. With numerous Illustrations by /J. Ley Pethybridge/ and others. Demy 8vo. 7_s._ 6_d._ net. (Popular Edition.)

Daily Telegraph.--“ ... As soon as the volume is opened one finds oneself in the presence of a real original, a man of ability, genius and eccentricity, of whom one cannot know too much.... No one will read this fascinating and charmingly produced book without thanks to Mr. Byles and a desire to visit--or revisit--Morwenstow.”

Pall Mall Gazette.--“There is scarcely a page of this book that does not tingle with the ruddy and exuberant vitality of one of the most living men of his day. Those who want the portrait of Hawker the man, not the poet merely, or the eccentric, or the ‘theologian’ (if he can be said to have had a theology), must in future come to Mr. Byles’s work.... It is Hawker the poet, in his life more poetic than in his writings, that will live long in the memory of Cornwall and of England.”

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THE LIFE OF WILLIAM BLAKE. By /Alexander Gilchrist/. Edited with an Introduction by /W. Graham Robertson/. Numerous Reproductions from Blake’s most characteristic and remarkable designs. Demy 8vo. 10_s._ 6_d._ net. New Edition.

Birmingham Post.--“Nothing seems at all likely ever to supplant the Gilchrist biography. Mr. Swinburne praised it magnificently in his own eloquent essay on Blake, and there should be no need now to point out its entire sanity, understanding keenness of critical insight, and masterly literary style. Dealing with one of the most difficult of subjects, it ranks among the finest things of its kind that we possess.”

Daily Mail.--“It would be difficult to name a more fascinating, artistic biography in the language.”

Western Morning News.--“This handsome volume should direct attention anew to a man whose work merits remembrance.”

Public Opinion.--“ ... The form in which this Life is now published calls for the warmest praise.”

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MEMOIRS OF A ROYAL CHAPLAIN, 1729-63. The correspondence of Edmund Pyle, /D.D./, Domestic Chaplain to George II, with Samuel Kerrich, /D.D./, Vicar of Dersingham, and Rector of Wolferton and West Newton. Edited and Annotated by /Albert Hartshorne/. With Portrait. Demy 8vo. 16_s._ net.

Truth.--“It is undoubtedly the most important book of the kind that has been published in recent years, and is certain to disturb many readers whose minds have not travelled with the time.”

Westminster Gazette.--“How the world went when George II was king, and what the Church made of it, are matters revealed with a good deal of light in this entertaining volume, edited and annotated by Mr. Hartshorne.”

Great Thoughts.--“The Pyle letters, though not so well known as other similar correspondence of a public nature, are well worth the vast amount of labour and care bestowed upon their publication.”

* * * * *

GEORGE MEREDITH: Some Characteristics. By /Richard Le Gallienne/. With a Bibliography (much enlarged) by /John Lane/. Portrait, etc. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net. Fifth Edition. Revised.

Punch.--“All Meredithians must possess ‘George Meredith; Some Characteristics,’ by Richard Le Gallienne. This book is a complete and excellent guide to the novelist and the novels, a sort of Meredithian Bradshaw, with pictures of the traffic superintendent and the head office at Boxhill. Even Philistines may be won over by the blandishments of Mr. Le Gallienne.”

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LIFE OF LORD CHESTERFIELD. An account of the Ancestry, Personal Character, and Public Services of the Fourth Earl of Chesterfield. By /W. H. Craig/, M.A. Numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo. 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

Daily Telegraph.--“Mr. Craig has set out to present him (Lord Chesterfield) as one of the striking figures of a formative period in our modern history ... and has succeeded in giving us a very attractive biography of a remarkable man.”

Times.--“It is the chief point of Mr. Craig’s book to show the sterling qualities which Chesterfield was at too much pains in concealing, to reject the perishable trivialities of his character, and to exhibit him as a philosophic statesman, not inferior to any of his contemporaries, except Walpole at one end of his life, and Chatham at the other.”

Daily Graphic.--“Reparation was due to Lord Chesterfield’s memory; and this book which at last does him justice is a notable contribution to historical biography.”

Saturday Review.--“Mr. W. H. Craig’s book is the first connected account of the public life of Lord Chesterfield, and the most elaborate attempt to appreciate his value as a serious statesman.”

Standard.--“Mr. Craig has written an interesting book.”

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A QUEEN OF INDISCRETIONS. The Tragedy of Caroline of Brunswick, Queen of England. From the Italian of /G. P. Clerici/. Translated by /Frederic Chapman/. With numerous Illustrations reproduced from contemporary Portraits and Prints. Demy 8vo. 21_s._ net.

The Daily Telegraph.--“It could scarcely be done more thoroughly or, on the whole, in better taste than is here displayed by Professor Clerici. Mr. Frederic Chapman himself contributes an uncommonly interesting and well-informed introduction.”

Westminster Gazette.--“The volume, scholarly and well-informed ... forms one long and absorbingly interesting chapter of the chronique scandaleuse of Court life ... reads like a romance, except that no romancer would care or dare to pack his pages so closely with startling effects and fantastic scenes.”

The Times.--“Signor Clerici has brought to his task immense pains, lucidity, and an impartiality of mind which does not prevent a definite view from emerging. Mr. Chapman has done the translation admirably well, and his own introduction is a careful assistance to thoroughness.”

Academy.--“Caroline’s life was an astounding romance, ... Mr. Chapman especially lends colour to her adventures in his clever introduction by the way in which he shows how, for all her genius for mischief, and for all her tricks and wantonness, Caroline never lost a curious charm which made her buoyancy and reckless spirit lovable to the last.”

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LETTERS AND JOURNALS OF SAMUEL GRIDLEY HOWE. Edited by his Daughter /Laura E. Richards/. With Notes and a Preface by /F. B. Sanborn/, an Introduction by Mrs. /John Lane/, and a Portrait. Demy 8vo (9 × 5-3/4 inches). 16_s._ net.

Outlook.--“This deeply interesting record of experience. The volume is worthily produced and contains a striking portrait of Howe.”

Dundee Advertiser.--“The picturesque, animated, and deeply interesting story of his career is now open in a considerable volume entitled ‘Letters and Journals of Samuel Gridley Howe during the Greek Revolution.’ This is helpfully edited by his daughter Laura E. Richards, and has an introduction and notes by his old friend, F. B. Sanborn, besides an illuminating preface by Mrs. John Lane.... The journals are written with sincerity and realism. They pulsate with the emotions of life amidst the difficulties, privations, and horrors of the battle march, siege and defeat.”

Daily News.--“Dr. Howe’s book is full of shrewd touches; it seems to be very much a part of the lively, handsome man of the portrait. His writing is striking and vivid; it is the writing of a shrewd, keen observer, intensely interested in the event before him. Whenever his attention is arrested he writes with living force.”

* * * * *

A LATER PEPYS. The Correspondence of Sir William Weller Pepys, Bart., Master in Chancery, 1758-1825, with Mrs. Chapone, Mrs. Hartley, Mrs. Montague, Hannah More, William Franks, Sir James Macdonald, Major Rennell, Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, and others. Edited, with an Introduction and Notes, by /Alice C. C. Gaussen/. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo. In Two Volumes. 32_s._ net.

/Douglas Sladen/ in the Queen.--“This is indisputably a most valuable contribution to the literature of the eighteenth century. It is a veritable storehouse of society gossip, the art criticism, and the mots of famous people.”

Academy and Literature.--“The effect consists in no particular passages, but in the total impression, the sense of atmosphere, and the general feeling that we are being introduced into the very society in which the writer moved.”

Daily News.--“To Miss Alice Gaussen is due the credit of sorting out the vast collection of correspondence which is here presented to the public.... Her industry is indefatigable, and her task has been carried out with completeness. The notes are full of interesting items; the introduction is exhaustive; and the collection of illustrations enhances the value of the book.”

World.--“Sir William Pepys’s correspondence is admirable.”

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ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, AN ELEGY; AND OTHER POEMS, MAINLY PERSONAL. By /Richard Le Gallienne/. Crown 8vo. 4_s._ 6_d._ net.

Daily Chronicle.--“Few, indeed, could be more fit to sing the dirge of that ‘Virgil of Prose’ than the poet whose curiosa felicitas is so close akin to Stevenson’s own charm.”

Globe.--“The opening Elegy on R. L. Stevenson includes some tender and touching passages, and has throughout the merits of sincerity and clearness.”

* * * * *

RUDYARD KIPLING: a Criticism. By /Richard Le Gallienne/. With a Bibliography by /John Lane/. Crown 8vo. 3_s._ 6_d._ net.

Guardian.--“One of the cleverest pieces of criticism we have come across for a long time.”

Scotsman.--“It shows a keen insight into the essential qualities of literature, and analyses Mr. Kipling’s product with the skill of a craftsman ... the positive and outstanding merits of Mr. Kipling’s contribution to the literature of his time are marshalled by his critic with quite uncommon skill.”

* * * * *

ROBERT BROWNING: Essays and Thoughts. By /J. T. Nettleship/. With Portrait. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ 6_d._ net. (Third Edition.)

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POEMS. By /Edward Cracroft Lefroy/. With a Memoir by /W. A. Gill/, and a Reprint of Mr. /J. A. Symonds’/ Critical Essay on “Echoes from Theocritus.” Photogravure Portrait. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

The Times.--“ ... the leading features of the sonnets are the writer’s intense sympathy with human life in general and with young life in particular; his humour, his music, and, in a word, the quality which ‘leaves a melody afloat upon the brain, a savour on the mental palate.’”

Bookman.--“The Memoir, by Mr. W. A. Gill, is a sympathetic sketch of an earnest and lovable character; and the critical estimate, by J. Addington Symonds, is a charmingly-written and suggestive essay.”

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/LIBER AMORIS; or, The New Pygmalion./ By /William Hazlitt/. Edited, with an introduction, by /Richard Le Gallienne/. To which is added an exact transcript of the original MS., Mrs. Hazlitt’s Diary in Scotland, and Letters never before published. Portrait after /Bewick/, and facsimile Letters. 400 copies only. 4to. 364 pp. Buckram. 21_s._ net.

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CHAMPIONS OF THE FLEET. Captains and Men-of-War in the Days that Helped to make the Empire. By /Edward Fraser/. With 16 Full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 5_s._ net.

⁂ Mr. Fraser takes in the whole range of our Navy’s story. First there is the story of the “Dreadnought,” told for the first time: how the name was originally selected by Elizabeth, why she chose it, the launch, how under Drake she fought against the Armada, how her captain was knighted on the quarter-deck in the presence of the enemy. From this point the name is traced down to the present leviathan which bears it. This is but one of the “champions” dealt with in Mr. Fraser’s volume, which is illustrated by some very interesting reproductions.

JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD, VIGO STREET, LONDON, W.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Whiteway’s Wine of the West Country.]

[Footnote 2: They are not so represented in the three lithographs that were published at Torquay. But two others beside this correspondent mention their appearance in “bloomers.”]

[Footnote 3: M. B. Synge, A Short History of Social Life in England. London, 1906.]

[Footnote 4: Whitfeld, Plymouth and Devonport, in Times of War and Peace, 1890, pp. 296-7.]

[Footnote 5: “Venez en bas, et montez le ‘Scuttle’ et allez en bas.”]

[Footnote 6: “Lady Howard, of Fitzford,” in Transactions of the Devonshire Association, 1890.]

[Footnote 7: Mr. J. R. Chanter, “A History of Lundy Island,” in the Transactions of the Devonshire Association, 1871. Reprinted in Lundy Island, 1877.]

[Footnote 8: W. Cotton, “An Expedition against Pirates,” in Transactions of the Devonshire Association, 1886.]

[Footnote 9: R. Pearse Chope, “Benson, M.P. and Smuggler,” in the Hartland Chronicle, 1906.]

[Footnote 10: Chanter, Lundy Island, 1877. Besides Mr. Chanter’s History, my authority is Mr. R. P. Chope’s articles on “Lundy Pirates” and on “Benson” in the Hartland Chronicle, 1906.]

[Footnote 11: In the tract, twenty-two.]

[Footnote 12: For this last instance, see Transactions of the Devonshire Association, 1900, p. 84.]

[Footnote 13: Depositions relating to Mr. Stucley’s doings in Spain, August, 1571, quoted by Froude in his History of England.]

[Footnote 14: O. King to Burghley, 18 February, 1572. Ibid.]

[Footnote 15: Letter from T. Lorkin to Sir T. Puckering.]

[Footnote 16: The ballad, with its melody, is given in Songs of the West, 2nd ed., 1905.]

[Footnote 17: This play was by Charles Johnson--not the author of the Lives of the Pirates. It was acted at Drury Lane in 1713. John Dennis wrote to the Master of the Revels to expostulate with him for having licensed this play, which he considered as a prostitution of the stage, an encouragement to villainy, and a disgrace to the theatre.]

[Footnote 18: We might be led to suppose that we were reading of the proceedings of the Belgians in the Congo Free State.]

[Footnote 19: “The Early Poetry of Devonshire” in the Transactions of the Devonshire Association for 1874.]

[Footnote 20: She was daughter of George Cain, carpenter, and was baptized 8 December, 1728.]

[Footnote 21: Annie Davies, died 6 February, 1815; buried in South Audley Street Church.]

[Footnote 22: His pupils paid him £210 each.]

[Footnote 23: His grammar is here perplexed.]

[Footnote 24: Reprinted in the Journal of the Royal Institute of Cornwall, 1904.]

[Footnote 25: Worthy (C.), Devonshire Parishes, II, pp. 371-4. Exon., 1888.]

[Footnote 26: Switzer, Introduction to Hydrostatics and Hydraulics, p. 342.]

[Footnote 27: Smiles, Lives of Boulton and Watt, pp. 62-8. London, 1865.]

[Footnote 28: Pengelly (W.), “Notes on Slips,” in Transactions of the Devonshire Association, 1882.]

[Footnote 29: Entries in an old Bible, in the Western Antiquary, 1885, p. 196.]

[Footnote 30: Universal Magazine for 1781.]

[Footnote 31: Memoirs of P. Stockdale, I, 313-14. London, 1809.]

[Footnote 32: “The Exmoor Scolding and Courtship,” by T. N. Brushfield, /M.D./, in the Transactions of the Devonshire Association for 1888.]

[Footnote 33: See W. F. Collier, “Wrestling,” in the Cornish Magazine, Vol. I, 1898.]

[Footnote 34: For a full account, most graphically written, and from which I have quoted, see Mr. Whitfeld’s Plymouth and Devonport, in War and Peace, Plymouth, 1900; also the Sporting Magazine for 1826-7; the Annual Register, 1826.]

[Footnote 35: Thornton (Rev. W. H.), Reminiscences of an Old West-country Clergyman, 1897.]

[Footnote 36: R. N. Worth, Transactions of Devonshire Association, 1876.]

[Footnote 37: Law Magazine, Vol. VII, p. 331.]

[Footnote 38: Sir W. Jones’ Works (1799), Vol. IV, p. 577.]

[Footnote 39: Mackenzie’s History of the Macleods, p. 431, says it was Anna Maria who married John Wilson. He does not mention her sister Isabella at all. Burke’s Landed Gentry of 1846 mentions Isabella but not Elizabeth.]

[Footnote 40: Whitfeld, Plymouth and Devonport, in War and Peace, p. 244.]

[Footnote 41: This is probably the second man shot when crouching against the wall mentioned by Andrews.]

[Footnote 42: Neither of these charges was investigated by the Commissioners, as beyond the scope of their inquiry, which was confined to the actual “massacre.”]

[Footnote 43: Both Dr. Magrath and Lieut. Avelyn deny in their depositions that on this occasion Captain Shortland was intoxicated.]

[Footnote 44: “He went down with the military with both hands in his breeches pockets.” Evidence of James Carley, turnkey.]

[Footnote 45: This contravenes the statement made by the prisoners in their memorandum.]

[Footnote 46: Captain Shortland pretended that the soldiers charged without his having given the command--all evidence to the contrary. The Commissioners did not believe him.]

[Footnote 47: David Spencer Warren, one of the witnesses, said: “Captain Shortland, when he told them to fire, was in front, one soldier beside him. They might have fired at his side or over him without hurting him.”]

[Footnote 48: This disposes of the allegation of the prisoners that Shortland had placed the soldiers there before the ringing of the alarm bell.]

[Footnote 49: This disposes of the charge made by the prisoners that no proper notice was given them that they were to turn in.]

[Footnote 50: The stone-throwing did not take place in the outer yard or Market Square where these two warders were, but later in the inner yard.]

[Footnote 51: This is disingenuous. He says nothing about the forcible breaking open of the gate.]

[Footnote 52: This was James Greenlaw.]

[Footnote 53: This is contrary to the general evidence, and contrary to his subsequent admission.]

[Footnote 54: Burnard (R.), Dartmoor Pictorial Records, IV. Plymouth, 1894.]

[Footnote 55: For fuller accounts of the house and family see Transactions of the Devonshire Association, Vols. XXXII and XXXV.]

[Footnote 56: For in that year “Roger de Nort’ Wyke” appears in the jury list of S.T. Hundred (Assize Roll, Devon, 175, m. 35).]

[Footnote 57: See Notes and Queries, 10, S. VIII, pp. 9, 73, 74.--E. L.-W.]

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