Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible. The Cornish dialect written by Captain Carter includes
inconsistencies in spelling and capitalisation. Some changes have
been made. They are listed at the end of the text.
Blank spaces, representing missing words in the original MS., have
been replaced by "[...]".
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
Text marked ^{thus} was superscripted.
[Illustration]
A CORNISH SMUGGLER
[Illustration: LANDING THE CARGO.
_F. BRANGWYN._]
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF
A CORNISH SMUGGLER
(CAPTAIN HARRY CARTER, OF PRUSSIA COVE)
1749-1809
_WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES_
BY
JOHN B. CORNISH
SECOND EDITION.
London:
GIBBINGS & CO., LTD., 18 BURY STREET, W.C.
J. POLLARD, TRURO, PENZANCE, & FALMOUTH.
1900.
WILLIAM BYLES AND SONS, PRINTERS,
129 FLEET STREET, LONDON,
AND BRADFORD.
INTRODUCTION.
The existence of the Autobiography which is published in the following
pages came to my knowledge in the course of a chance conversation with a
distant relative of the writer's family. The original manuscript has
been carefully preserved, and has been for many years in the possession
of Mr. G. H. Carter, of Helston. He received it from his father, the G.
Carter mentioned on page 1, who was a nephew of Harry Carter himself.
The memoir of the writer, which will be found in the "Wesleyan Methodist
Magazine" for October, 1831, was based upon information supplied by G.
Carter, partly from the manuscript and partly from his own knowledge. It
is now printed from the manuscript which was kindly lent to me for the
purpose by Mr. G. H. Carter.
The part of Cornwall to which the autobiography chiefly relates is the
district lying between the two small towns of Marazion and Helston, a
distance of about ten miles on the north-eastern shores of Mounts Bay,
comprising the parishes of Breage, Germoe, St. Hilary, and Perranuthnoe.
The bay is practically divided into two parts by Cuddan Point, a sharp
small headland about two miles east from St. Michael's Mount. The
western part runs into the land in a roughly semicircular shape, and is
so well sheltered that it has almost the appearance of a lake, in fact,
the extreme north-western corner is called Gwavas Lake. From the hills
which surround it the land everywhere slopes gently to the sea, and is
thickly inhabited. The towns of Penzance and Marazion and the important
fishing village of Newlyn occupy a large portion of the shore, and
around them are woody valleys and well cultivated fields. To the
eastward of Cuddan is a marked contrast. There, steep and rocky cliffs
are only broken by two long stretches of beach, Pra Sand and the Looe
Bar, on which the great seas which come always from the Atlantic make
landing impossible except on a few rare summer days. With the exception
of the little fishing station of Porthleven there is not a place all
along the coast from Cuddan Point to the Lizard large enough to be
called a village. Inland the country is in keeping with the character
of the coast. Trees are very scarce, and the stone hedges, so
characteristic of all the wild parts of West Cornwall, the patches of
moorland, and the scattered cottages, make the whole appearance bare and
exposed.
Porth Leah, or the King's Cove, now more usually known as Prussia
Cove,[1] around which so much of the interest of the narrative centres,
lies a little to the eastward of Cuddan Point. There are really two
coves divided from one another by a point and a small island called the
"Enez." The western cove, generally called "Bessie's Cove," is a most
sheltered and secluded place. It is so well hidden from the land that it
is impossible to see what boats are lying in the little harbour until
one comes down to the very edge of the cliff. The eastern side of the
point, where there is another small harbour called the "King's Cove," is
more open, but the whole place is thoroughly out of the world even now.
The high road from Helston through Marazion to Penzance now passes about
a mile from the sea, but at the time of which Harry Carter was writing
this district must have been unknown and almost inaccessible. From all
accounts West Cornwall at that time was very little more than half
civilised. The mother of Sir Humphry Davy (born at Penzance, 1778) has
left us a record that when she was a girl "West Cornwall was without
roads, there was only one cart in the town of Penzance, and packhorses
were in use in all the country districts" (Bottrell, iii. 150). This is
confirmed by a writer in the "Gentleman's Magazine," who says that in
1754 there were no roads in this district, the ways that served the
purpose were merely bridle paths "remaining as the deluge left them and
dangerous to travel over" ("Gentleman's Magazine," October, 1754); and
by the official records of the town of Penzance, which show that in 1760
the Corporation went to some expense in opposing the extension of the
turnpike beyond Marazion, to which place it was then first carried from
Penryn (Millett's "Penzance, Past and Present").
The places of which the names are mentioned in the autobiography, but
which are not shown in the map, such as Rudgeon, Trevean, Caerlean,
Pengersick, Kenneggey, and Rinsey, are all in the immediate
neighbourhood of Prussia Cove. They are merely little hamlets of four
or five cottages each, and there is no reason to suppose that they were
any larger one hundred years ago. Helston, the market town of the
district, is about six miles off, and had then a population of some two
thousand people.
The chief interest in the autobiography is probably that which it
attracts as the most authentic account of the smuggling which was
carried on in the neighbourhood in the latter portion of the last
century. Cornwall has long enjoyed a certain reputation for pre-eminence
in this particular form of trade, and apparently not without some
reason. A series of letters of the years 1750-1753 were published some
years ago in the journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall (vol. vi.
pt. xxii. p. 374, "The Lanisley Letters") to a Lieutenant-General
Onslow, from George Borlase, his agent at Penzance, asking that soldiers
might be stationed in the district, because "the coasts here swarm with
smugglers," and mentioning that a detachment ought to be stationed at
Helston, as "just on that neighbourhood lye the smugglers and wreckers
more than about us, tho' there are too many in all parts of this
country." In his "Natural History of Cornwall," published in 1758, Dr.
Borlase regrets (p. 312) that "the people of the sea coast are, it must
be owned, too much addicted to carry off our bullion to France and to
bring back nothing but brandy, tea, and other luxuries." This is
delicate, but there can be no doubt of his meaning; and he goes on to
complain that "there is not the poorest family in any parish which has
not its tea, its snuff, and tobacco, and (when they have money or
credit) brandy," all, we may presume, duty free. The will of Philip
Hawkins, M.P. for Grampound, who died on September 6, 1738, is perhaps
the most striking record, for he actually bequeathed £600 to the king to
compensate for the amount of which his tenants had defrauded the
Customs.
That the smuggling prevailed to such an extent is not to be wondered at,
for the law must have had but a very slight hold on such a rough and
scattered population, living so far away from any of the large centres
of England. In such a narrow country too, where no one lives very far
from the sea, the miners took to smuggling as readily as the fishermen.
A trip to Roscoff or Guernsey formed a pleasant change after a spell on
tribute underground or working stamps. A rough, reckless, and drunken
lot were these tinners, and if riots and bloodshed were more scarce in
West Cornwall than in some parts, it must have been due to the judicious
absence of the Custom House officials, and not to any qualities in the
smugglers. George Borlase says ("Lanisley Letters") that in December
1750 a Dutch ship laden with claret was wrecked near Helston, and "in
twenty-four hours the tinners cleared all," the authorities apparently
not daring to interfere; and that just before this date a man who went
to the assistance of the revenue officers had been killed near the same
place.
Beyond these I have mentioned, the literary records are very meagre, but
the whole county, and especially the western part, abounds with
legends. The smuggling was so universal, that every cove, and fishing
village on the coast has its own stories, and everywhere the curious
visitor is still shown the place where the smugglers landed their
cargoes, the secret caves where they stored them, and sometimes, but not
often, the places where the "officers" found them. Prussia Cove, beyond
all others, has the richest store of such history. Here are little
harbours cut out of the solid rock, which are now occupied by innocent
fishing boats. The visitor can see a roadway partly cut and partly worn
crossing the rocks below high water mark, and caves of which the mouths
have been built up, and which are reputed to be connected with the house
on the cliff above by secret passages.
In the legends of the Cove the personality of John Carter looms so large
that his associates are almost if not entirely forgotten, and everything
centres around him alone. It was he who cut the harbours and the road,
it was he who adapted the caves, and he is the hero of most of the
tales which are told of the good old days. One of these stories is worth
recording. On one occasion, during his absence from home, the excise
officers from Penzance came around in their boats and took a cargo,
which had lately arrived from France, to Penzance, where it was secured
in the Custom House store. In due course John Carter returned to the
Cove, and learned the news. What was he to do? He explained to his
comrades that he had agreed to deliver that cargo to the customers by a
certain day, and his reputation as an honest man was at stake. He must
keep his word. That night a number of armed men broke open the stores at
Penzance, and the "King of Prussia" took his own again, returning to the
Cove without being discovered. In the morning the officers found that
the place had been broken open during the night. They examined the
contents, and when they noted what particular things were gone, they
said to one another that John Carter had been there, and they knew it,
because he was an honest man who would not take anything that did not
belong to him. And John Carter kept his word to his customers. The story
that he once opened fire on a revenue cutter from a small battery which
he had made at the Cove is well known along the coast.
It is characteristic of the history of the smugglers everywhere that
they enjoyed the support of popular sympathy. This was certainly the
case in West Cornwall, where the farmers, the merchants, and, it is
rumoured, the local magistrates, used to find the money with which the
business was carried on, investing small sums in each voyage. Harry
Carter finding shelter at Marazion when the Government were offering a
reward for his capture (p. 26), and the action of the unnamed "great man
of the neighbourhood" on his return from America (p. 90), are perhaps
the reverse of the picture which George Borlase drew for General Onslow
("Lanisley Letters"); "the countenance given to the smugglers by those
whose business it is to restrain these pernicious practices, hath bro't
'em so bold and daring that nobody can venture to come near them with
safety whilst they are at their work." It is difficult to avoid the
conclusion that there must have been some powerful influence exerted in
his favour to obtain his exchange from prison in France in 1778, and
what else can we make of the commission to go privateering against the
Americans. The Government had then recently passed a measure[2] to
encourage privateering by authorising the Admiralty to grant
commissions, and apparently English sailors were everywhere readily
taking advantage of the opportunity so afforded for their enterprise.[3]
But to obtain such a commission the applicant had to find the security
of sureties, of whose "sufficiency" the commissioners were to satisfy
themselves, and also to send in a written application specifying the
ship for which the commission was asked, with full details as to the
number of her guns and other matters. He surely could not have ventured
to place himself in the hands of the Government in this way without a
friend at Court. It certainly seems a fair inference from their
popularity, their fame, and from the fact that they both rose to leading
positions amongst the smugglers while still comparatively young, that
Harry Carter and his brother John were superior men to the rough
material of which their crews were probably composed.
The accounts of the actual smuggling in the following pages are not very
elaborate, but we must remember that at the time when Harry Carter was
writing (1809), John Carter and the "Cove boys" were still at it, and
Prussia Cove had not yet ceased to be a great centre of smugglers. This
would also explain the absence of any more particular reference to any
of his companions. This reticence, which we must respect, although we
may regret it, is quite compensated by the variety of his later
experiences. To have been a prisoner in France during the Reign of
Terror, and at a time when the Convention had decreed that no quarter
should be given to an Englishman,[4] is of itself no small claim on the
attention of his countrymen. From his account, which is, I believe,
unique in English literature, and especially when it is compared with
those of French writers, it would seem that the English, who were, of
course, prisoners of war, were placed on the same footing as the
"aristocrats" and "suspects," the great number of whom made it necessary
to utilise the convents and even private houses as prisons. Alexandrine
des Echerolles tells us ("Private life in Public Calamities") that
"Bread was distributed daily to the prisoners, and their pitchers were
filled every morning with fresh water. Those who could not pay the
turnkeys for their trouble got none, so the rich used to bestow alms
upon the poor in this form.... Once a fortnight, I think, they were
supplied with fresh straw, or what was called such, each person
receiving an armful." She mentions that by degrees the prisoners
managed to make themselves more comfortable by introducing tables, and
chairs, and mattresses, which they were compelled to leave behind on
their removal to other prisons. All this coincides very closely with
Harry Carter's account, and he seems to have shared their anxiety as to
the fate of his friends and the common anticipation of the guillotine.
Even this does not exhaust the interest of his life. The very first
lines of his writing show the object with which he wrote. In no part of
England did the teaching and influence of John Wesley obtain such a hold
as in Cornwall. At the time of his first visit he speaks of the natives
of this distant country as "those who neither feared God nor regarded
man" ("Diary," May 17, 1743); he accuses them of wrecking and of
murdering those who were washed ashore, and describes their pastimes as
"hurling, at which limbs were often broken, fighting, drinking, and all
other manner of wickedness." The "Lanisley Letters" contain similar
charges of wrecking and murder, and Dr. Borlase confirms the statement
as to their drunken habits. In 1750 Wesley mentions how greatly all
these things were changed. They were, perhaps, not as much changed as he
thought, but undoubtedly they were greatly improved, for it is plain
fact that the whole of the moral reformation of the Cornish folk is due
to him. He gained followers so rapidly in the west that at the first
Methodist Conference in 1744, St. Ives is classed with London, Bristol,
and Newcastle; "from this it is evident," says Dr. Smith ("Hist. of
Methodism," i. 213), "that London, Bristol, St. Ives, and Newcastle were
regarded as the great centres of Methodism in England at this period."
At the third Conference (1746) Cornwall forms one district out of seven,
while the others included in some cases four and in one case six English
counties. In 1750 John Wesley ("Diary," August 18) says of St. Just,
"There is still the largest society in Cornwall, and so great a
proportion of believers I have not found in all the nation beside."
Similar societies or classes sprang up in the most remote places, such
as Rugan, or Rudgeon as it is more usually spelt now, where the society
met at which Charles Carter was converted; at Trevean and Caerlean,
where Harry Carter preached.
That especial characteristic of Wesley's organisation, "the local
preacher," took root firmly in Cornwall from the very first. To those
who are not acquainted with the county it may be necessary to explain
that these laymen, earnest men of all classes, who preach, are so common
in every village that they constitute a distinguishing feature in the
local life. The services in the small wayside chapels which are so
numerous are usually conducted by a local preacher in the intervals
between the visits of the regular ministers. Those who do know Cornwall
also know the importance of the local preacher in the history of the
Methodist movement. John Wesley's preaching was received by the poor and
uneducated, the miner, the fisherman, and the labourer, and the
persecution of the clergy and the magistrates only strengthened the
enthusiasm of the people for their great teacher. From such men sprang
the first local preachers; preaching and exhorting not with the dull
formality of men who had to do it, but with the earnestness of men who
really felt that they had a message to deliver, and labouring under
uncontrollable excitement they greatly impressed their hearers: while
the familiarity of their persons led their audience to look upon this
new teaching as a thing of their own to which they could all attain. It
is impossible to doubt that the hold which the movement gained was
greatly due to these men, and Harry Carter was one of them. John Wesley
had set himself from the first against the smuggling which he found so
prevalent; he had preached against it at several places, and had even
published a pamphlet against it. We may therefore fairly suppose that
Harry Carter, the great smuggler, was regarded as a most important
accession to the ranks of his followers.
The autobiography ends abruptly in the year 1795, but the writer lived
until April 19, 1829. The last thirty years of his life he spent at
Rinsey. He lived quietly, keeping himself occupied with a small farm,
and occasionally preaching in the neighbourhood. From the memoir of him
in the "Wesleyan Methodist Magazine," to which I have already referred,
I cull the two further facts that he retained the intensity of his
religious feelings up to his death, and that he never failed in grateful
recollections of James Macculloch--the Mr. M. of his French prison
experiences. Of his family I can learn but little. It is said that
originally they came from Shropshire, and certainly the name does not
show a Cornish origin. His father, who was called Francis, was born in
1712, and died on February 28, 1774; his mother, Agnes, was born in
1714, and died in 1784. Of the eight sons and two daughters of whom he
speaks, I can only trace four of the sons besides himself. Thomas, whom
he does not mention, was born in 1737, and died in 1818; and John, whom
he refers to as the eldest, Francis, born in 1745, and Charles, born in
1757, and died in 1803, are all mentioned in the autobiography. His
daughter, Elizabeth, as far as I can learn, died while young.
In preparing the manuscript for publication I have taken the liberty of
omitting some passages here and there which were simply repetitions, and
which did not throw any additional light either on the narrative or his
character. I have corrected all the wrong spellings which could be
classed as simple mistakes, but I have carefully preserved all spellings
which appeared of interest, as showing the pronunciation of the words,
and especially those which illustrate the local dialect. For instance,
the general preference for "a" over the other vowels, and especially in
final syllables, is distinctly characteristic of West Cornwall.
In some places, particularly towards the end, the manuscript is somewhat
damaged, and many of the pages have lost a portion of the lower corner.
The gaps so caused I have endeavoured to fill with the words which he
probably used, and such words are printed in italics. Where I have been
unable to suggest the missing words, I have left blanks.
JOHN B. CORNISH.
PENZANCE, 1900.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A CORNISH SMUGGLER.
As it have been imprest upon my mind for sevral years to take a
memorandum of the kind dealings of God to my soul, in particular these
laste two or three years, I have been persuaded by sevral of my friends,
in particular Mr. Wormsley and Geo. Carter. I have thought in general it
would be so weak that no person of sense would ever publish it to the
world, notwithstanding, this morning being 20 of Dec^{r.} 1809, I have
taken up my pen, and may the Lord bring past things to my remembrance
just[5] as they are, and if published to the world, may the Lord make it
a blessing to every soul that read and hear it for Christ's sake, amen,
amen.
I have made sevral remarks at difrante times in years past of sume
particular things of my experience for my own amusement, then thinking
for no person ever to see it but myself only; and as I have made a
general rule more or less for sevral years to have had fixed times to
sit in silence to trace my whole life from 8 or 9 years of age, in
particular more so since I have tasted the goodness of God, moste
particular things that _I have_ past through seems to be tolerable
famil_iar_ to me.
I was born in the year of 1749 in Pengersick, in the parish of Breage,
in the County of Cornwall. My mother had ten children, eight sons and
two daghturs, eight of whom lived to maturity. My father was a
miner--likewayse rented a little farm of about 12_l._ p^r year--who was
a hard labring man, and brought up his family in what we caled[6] decent
poverty. My oldest and youngest brothers were brought up to good
country scolars, but the rest of my brothers with myself, as soon as we
was able, obliged to work in order to contribute a little to help to
support a large family, so that I never was keept to scool but only to
read in what we caled then the great Book. As for our Religion, we were
brought up like the rest of our neighbours, to say some prayers after we
were in the bed, and to go to Church on particular times as occasion
sarv'd us. When I was aboute 8 or 9 years old, my brother Francis was
aboute four years older than me. He joined the methodist society in
Rudgeon,[7] soon after found peace with God, and as him and me was moste
times sleeping and waking together he revealed himself unto me, told me
the place and time he received the Comfarter. I seeing such very great
chainge upon him, as before time he was a very active boy, I farmely
believed the report. From that time I farmley believed that except I was
born again I should in no case see the kingdom of God, so that
convictions followed me sharp and often, sumetimes constrained to weep
bitterly. But alas! as I grew up they went fewer[8] and fainter. Aboute
9 or 10 years old went to work to stamps, and continued there until 15
or 16. I worked to bal,[9] as I think, until I was aboute 17, and from
thence went with my two oldest brothers to Porthleah[10] or the King's
Cove afishing and smuggling, and I think aboute 18 or 19 went at times,
with Folston[11] people and sumetimes with Irish, as supercargo, whom we
freighted. Before this time I larned to write, and so far so, that I
would keep my own accounts.
I think I might have been aboute 25 when I went in a small sloop, about
16 or 18[12] tons, with two men beside myself, asmuggling, where I had
very great success; and after a while I had a new sloop built for me,
about 32 tons.[13] My success was rather beyond common, and after a time
we bought a small cuttar of aboute 50 tons[14] and aboute ten men. I
saild in her one year, and I suppose made more safe voyages then have
been ever made since or before with any single person. So by this time I
begun to think some thing of myself, convictions still following sharply
at times. I allwayse had a dislike to swearing, and made a law on board,
if any of the sailors should swear, was poneshed. Nevertheless my
intention was not pure; I had sume byends in it, the bottom of it was
only pride, etc. I wanted to be noted to be sumething out of the common
way of others, still I allwayse had a dislike to hear others swearing.
Well, then, I think I was counted what the world cales a good sort of
man, good humoured, not proude, etc. But man is short sighted, who can
disarn spirets when the heart is deceitful above all thing and
desparately wicked, oftentimes burning and boiling within in a blaze of
passion, though not to be seen without. Nevertheless in the meantime was
capable to be guilty of outward sins the same as others of my
companions, and often[15] times, when went out on a party, crying and
praying to keep me from a particular sin, was often the first that was
guilty of committing it. Then conchance,[16] after staring me in the
face, oh what a torment within I feelt.[17] So I went on for many years
sinning and repenting.
Well, then, in the cource of these few years, as we card[18] a large
trade with other vessels allso, we gained a large sum of money, and
being a speculating family was not satisfied with small things. Built a
new cuttar, aboute 197[19] tons, then one of the first in England;
expecting to make all our fortunes in a hurry. I was in her at sea in
Dec^{r.} 1777, made one voyage about Christmas. Returning to Guarnsey
light, sprung the bowspreat; was recommended from Guarnsey to St. Malos
for a bowspreat, and for the want of Customhouse papars and proper
despatchis was seized upon by the admiralty of the above place, where
they unbent the sails, took them onshore, and confined us all on board
with a gard of soldars as presoners, allowing two men to be on deck only
at a time; likenwayse their orders was for no person to come alongside,
no letters to pass or repass. But the comanding officer I soon got in
his favour, that I conveyed letters onshore, and sent an express to
Guernsey, likewayse to Roscoff, when there was soon certificates sent
them to certify what I was, as they stopped me under the pretence of
being a pirate; their pretence nevertheless was not altogether
unreasonable, I having sixteen carriage guns on board and thirty-six
men without any maritime pass, or anything to show for them.
Notwithstanding they certainly knew what I was. I think it was on the 30
Jan. 1778, and I think the latter end of March[20] there was an embargo
laid on all English bottams. They keept me on-board with all the people
until I think the 1 May, when they took me onshore in order to examine
me, and about four o'clock sent with a strong gard unto the Castle. This
was a strange seeing unto me, the first prison I ever saw the inside of,
the hearing of so many iron doors opening, etc. So I was put up to the
last floor in the top of that very high Castle, in a criminal jail,
where there were a little short dirty straw, etc. So after looking round
a little to see my new habitation, I asked of the jailor to send me a
chair to sit on, and sumething to eat, as I took nothing for the day,
then seeming to be in tolarable spirits; but as the jailor left me,
hearing the rattling of the doors and the noise of the keys, I begun to
reflect, where am I now? I shall shorley never come out of this place
whilst the war lasts, shorley I shall die here, etc. I suppose in the
course of an half hour heard the doors and keys as before for a long
time before I saw any person, so in came a man with a chair, my bed, and
a little soup, etc. Well, then, I sat myself down in the chair, looked
at my dinner, etc., but then begun to weep bitterly. I had not loste
only my liberty but the cuttar also, which was my God. My liberty was
gone, my honour, my property, my life, and my God, all was gone; and all
the ten thousand pounds I expected to get privateering was gone, as
there was a commission sent for me against the Americans before I left
home. There I walked the dismal place bewailing my sad case. But in the
space of aboute two hours two or three of my people were sent to join
me, and before night I think about eighteen of us, small room full. Then
we begun to sing and make a noise, so that sume of my fears vanished
away; hope of life sprung up, and as the Franch was such flatterers in
general, a very little hope for the cuttar, etc. The remainder of the
ship's company put in the town criminal jail. We was all keept in prison
until aboute the 20 or 21 day of the same month, when early in the
morning were took out by a strong gard of soldars, sent to Dinan prison
of war, where we had then plenty of room, etc. I suppose we were aboute
six or seven of us that every evening joined to sing psalms in parts,
etc. But this would not satisfy me, I know there was no Religion in this
at all, but one night as I was asleep, as we lay on the floor side by
side, I dreamed that I heard like the voice of an angel saying unto me,
"Except thou reform thy life, thou must totally be lost for ever." There
was something more that he said, but I cannot now remember it. When I
awaked I was in a lake, sweat from head to foot, and all my body in a
tremble. Nothing but fear and horror upon my mind. The next day I passed
much to myself, very serious and sad, not one smile on my countenance,
but keept[21] it all to myself. Took great care to lett no person know
anything of the mattar. Well, then, as Cain went to build a city in
order to divert his mind, I begun to larn navigation, and so loosed my
convictions little and little, that in the course of aboute a fortnight
I could do the same as I formely uste to do. I think I was in prison
aboute five or six weeks until my oldest brother John[22] was brought to
join me, as he come to St. Malas just after I was stopped, from
Guarnsey, with certificates from the Governor, etc., in order to try to
liberate the cuttar and me. Well, then, this allmoste so great tryal as
any, he being the head of the family, and thought the business muste
come to an end at home. We was keept both in preson until, as I think,
sume time in August, and was sent on parol about forty miles in a town
called Josselin. However, we was keeped in difrante places in the
country until I think the latter end of Nov^{r.} in 1779, when we were
private exchanged by the order of the Lords of the Admiralty in the room
of two French gentlemen sent to France in our room. And then to come by
the way of Ostend, being, as well I can remember, aboute five hundred
miles. From thence came by the way of London, and arrived at home the 24
Dec^{r.} in the same year. We found the family all alive and well, but
with the loss of the cuttar, and the business not managed well at home,
as my brother was then a presoner, and wanting from home aboute two
years, the family in a low state. Nevertheless, he being well respected
with the Guarnsey marchants, was offered credit with many of them. So
went on again in freighting of large vessels, and had very good speed
for sume time. I went again in the little cutter I had before, aboute 50
tuns.[23] And after making two or three voyages to the King's Cove, went
with a cargo on the coast of Wales. In order to smuggle it, went onshore
to sell it. Left the cuttar to anchor near the Mumbles, where an
information was given to an armship called the "Three Brothers," that
lay sume distance from there. And aboute that time there had been some
large privateers' cuttars on that coast from Dunkirk, and had taken many
prizes, manned and commanded chiefly with Irishmen. My cutter was
represented to be one of them, namely, the "Black Prince," mounting
sixteen guns and sixty men. I had then in the cutter about six men and
three beside myself onshore. When they saw the armship coming upon them,
cut the cable and went to sea; and when the ship gave up the chase from
the cuttar, sent his boats onshore, took up the cutter's cable and
anchor, and found me onshore. I having left my commission on board, and
had nothing to show who or what I was, took me on board the ship as a
pirate, and after examining me in the cabin for two or three hours,
detained me as a prisoner for twelve weeks until I was cleared by my
friends at home through the Lords of the Admiralty. So after I was at
home some time, riding about the country getting freights, collecting
money for the company, etc., etc., we bought a cuttar aboute 160
tons,[24] nineteen guns. I went in her sumetime asmuggling, and had
great success. We had a new luggar built, which mounted twenty guns, and
both went in company together from Guarnsey, smuggling along the coast,
so that by this time I begun to think sumething of myself again.
Nevertheless convictions never left me long together. But in the course
of this time, being exposed to more company and sailors of all
descriptions, larned to swear at times. And once, after discharging our
cargo, brought the both vessels to an anchor in Newlyn[25] Road, when we
had an express sent us from St. Ives of a large cuttar privateer from
Dunkirk, called the "Black Prince," had been on that coast and had taken
many prizes to go out in pursuit of her. It was not a very agreeable
business, notwithstanding for fear to offend the collector,[26] we put
round the both vessels to St. Ives Roade, and after staying there two
or three days, the same cutter hove in sight Christmas day in the
morning. We not having our proper crews on board, colected a few[27] men
together, and went to sea in pursuit of him. Soon come up with him, so
that after a running fight for three or four hours, as we, not being
half manned, and the sea very big, the shots so uncertain, the luggar
received a shot that was obliged to bear up, and in the course of less
then an hour after I received a shot that card of my jib, and another in
the hull, that we could hardly keep her free. So that we bore up after
the luggar, not knowing what was the matter of her running away. We came
up with her aboute five in the evning. Desired the Captain to quitt her,
but he, in hope to put her into Padstow, continued pumping and bailing
until aboute six, when he hail'd me, saying, stand by him, he was going
to quitt her. So that they hoisted out their boate, but the sea being so
bigg and the men being confused, filled her with water, so that they
could not free her nomore. I got my boat out in the meantime, sent her
alongside the luggar, so that some of the men jumpt over board, and my
boate pickt them up, and immediately the luggar went down. I hove to the
cuttar and laid her to, that she drifted right over the place that the
luggar went down, so that some of the men got on board by virtue of
ropes hove from the cuttar, sume got hold of the jib tack, and sume
pickt up by the cuttar's boate, so that we saved alive seventeen men and
fourteen drowned. As Providence would have it was aboute the full of the
moon, or certainly all must be lost. This was scene indeed. What cries!
what screeches! what confusion was there! We stayed some little time
there cruising aboute the place, but soon obliged to get the cuttar
under a double reefed trysail, a heavy gale of wind ensuing, and bore up
for the Mumbles. Now I am going to inform you of a little more of my
pride and vanity, the spirit of truth had not as yet forgot to strive
with me. Before we come up with the privateer, in expecting to come to
an engagement, oh, what horror was upon my mind for fear of death, as I
know I must come to judgment sure and sartin. If I died, I should be
lost for ever. Notwithstanding all this I made the greatest outward show
of bravery, and, through pride and presumption, exposed myself to the
greatest danger. I stood on the companion until the wad of the enemies'
shot flew in fire aboute me, and I suppose the wind of the shot struck
me down on the deck as the shot took in the mainsail right in a line
with me. One of my officers helpt me up, thought I was wounded, and he
would not suffer me to go there nomore. This was a great salvation, and
that of God, and not the only one; for all so many hundreds of shot have
flyed around me, I never received somuch as a blemish in one of my
fingers; but I can remember for many years before this, whenever I
expected to come to an engagement, I was allwayse struck with horror of
mind, knowing I was not fit to die; and since I have tasted of the
goodness of God, I have thought that the greatest hero in the Army or
Navy, as long as the spirit of Truth continue to strive with them, even
Anson, is struck with the like feelings; and if ever I hear of a coward,
I know this is the cause of it.
In the year of 19th April, 1786, I was married to Elizabeth Flindel, of
Helford, in the parish of Manaccan, and in April 19, 1787, she bore me a
daughter, who was called after her mother's name, and I think it was
aboute midle of Nov^{r.} I went in a luggar, asmuggling, about 140[28]
tons, mounting sixteen carriage guns. After making one voyage at home to
the King's Cove I got a freight for Costan,[29] and as I depended on
them people to look out if there were any danger, according to their
promise, came into the Bay, and after sume time spoke with a boate from
the above place, saying it was a clear coast, there was no danger to
bring the vessel up to anchor, and we should have boats enough out to
discharge all the cargo immediately. So that I brought the vessel to
anchor, leaving the jib with the trysail and mizen set, and begun to
make ready, opening the hatches, etc., when I saw two boats rowing up
from the shore. I said to the pilot, "There is two boats acoming." He
answered, "They are our boats coming to take the goods out," etc. Soon
after a boat come alongside. "Do you know these is two man-o'war's
boats?" We immediately cutt the cable, and before the luggar gathered
headway were right under the starn. They immediately cutt off the mizen
sheet, and with a musket-shot shot off the trysal tack and boarded us
over the starn. My people having sume muskets, dropt them down and went
below. I knowing nothing of that, thought that all would stand by me. I
begun to engage them as well as I could without anything in my hands, as
they took us in surprise so suddenly, I having my great coat on buttoned
aboute me, I seeing none of my people, only one man at the helm; and
when they saw no person to oppose them, turned upon me with their broad
swords, and begun to beat away upon my head. I found the blows very
heavey--crushed me down to the deck--and as I never loosed my senses,
rambled forward. They still pursued me, beating and pushing me, so that
I fell down on the deck on a small raft just out of their way. I suppose
I might have been there aboute a quarter of an hour, until they had
secured my people below, and after found me laying on the deck. One of
them said, "Here is one of the poor fellows dead." Another made answer,
"Put the man below." He answered again, saying, "What use is it to put a
dead man below?" and so past on. Aboute this time the vessel struck
aground, the wind being about East S.E. very hard, right on the shore.
So their I laid very quiet for near the space of two hours, hearing
their discourse as they walked by me, the night being very dark on the
30 Jan^{y.} 1788. When some of them saw me lying there, said, "Here lays
one of the fellows dead," one of them answered as before, "Put him
below." Another said, "The man is dead." The commanding officer gave
orders for a lantern and candle to be brought, so they took up one of
my legs, as I was lying upon my belly; he let it go, and it fell as dead
down on the deck. He likewayse put his hand up under my clothes, between
my shirt and my skin, and then examined my head, and so concluded,
saying, "The man is so warm now as he was two hours back, but his head
is all to atoms." I have thought hundreds of times since what a miracle
it was I neither sneezed, coughed, nor drew breath that they perceived
in all this time, I suppose not less than ten or fifteen minutes. The
water being ebbing, the vessel making a great heel towards the shore, so
that in the course of a very little time after, as their two boats was
made fast alongside, one of them broke adrift. Immediately there was
orders given to man the other boat in order to fetch her; so that when I
saw them in the state of confusion, their gard broken, I thought it was
my time to make my escape, so I crept on my belly on the deck, and got
over a large raft just before the main mast, close by one of the men's
heels, as he was standing there handing the trysail. When I got over
the lee-side I thought I should be able to swim on shore in a stroke or
two. I took hold of the burtins[30] of the mast, and as I was lifting
myself over the side, I was taken with the cramp in one of my thighs. So
then I thought I should be drowned, but still willing to risk it, so
that I let myself over the side very easily by a rope into the water,
fearing my enemies would hear me and then let go. As I was very near the
shore, I thought to swim onshore in the course of a stroke or two, as I
used to swim so well, but soon found out my mistake. I was sinking
almost like a stone, and hauling astarn in deeper water, when I gave up
all hopes of life, and begun to swallow some water. I found arope under
my breast, so that I had not lost all my senses. I hauled upon it, and
soon found one end fast to the side just where I went overboard, which
gave me a little hope of life. So that when I got there, could not tell
which was best, to call to the man-of-war's men to take me in, or to
stay there and die, for my life and strength was allmoste exhausted; but
whilst I was thinking of this, touched bottam with my feet. Hope then
sprung up, and I soon found another rope, leading towards the head of
the vessel in shoaler water, so that I veered upon one and hauled upon
the other that brought me under the bowsprit, and then at times, upon
the send of a sea, my feete was allmoste dry. I thought then I would
soon be out of their way. Left go the rope, but as soon as I attempted
to run, fell down, and as I fell, looking round aboute me, saw three men
standing close by me. I know they were the man-of-war's men seeing for
the boat, so I lyed there quiet for some little time, and then creeped
upon my belly I suppose aboute the distance of fifty yards; and as the
ground was scuddy, some flat rock mixt with channels of sand, I saw
before me a channel of white sand, and for fear to be seen creeping
over it, which would take some time, not knowing there was anything the
matter with me, made the second attempt to run, and fell in the same
manner as before. My brother Charles being there, looking out for the
vessel, desired some of Cawsand men to go down to see if they could pick
up any of the men dead or alive, not expecting ever to see me any more,
allmoste sure I was ither shot or drowned. One of them saw me fall, ran
to my assistance, and taking hold of me under the arm says, "Who are
you?" So as I thought him to be an enemy, made no answer. He said, "Fear
not, I am a friend; come with me." And by that time forth was two more
come, which took me under both arms, and the other pushed me in the
back, and so dragged me up to the town. I suppose it might have been
about the distance of the fifth part of a mile. My strength was allmoste
exhausted; my breath, nay, my life, was allmoste gone. They took me
into a room where there were seven or eight of Cawsand men and my
brother Charles, and when he saw me, knew me by my great coat, and cryed
with joy, "This is my brother!" So then they immediately stript off my
wet clothes, and one of them pulled off his shirt from off him and put
on me, sent for a doctor, and put me to bed. Well, then, I have thought
many a time since what a wonder it was. The bone of my nose cut right in
two, nothing but a bit of skin holding it, and two very large cuts in my
head, that two or three pieces of my skull worked out afterwards; and
after so long laying on the deck with that very cold weather, and being
not alltogether drowned, but allmoste, I think, I did not know I was
wounded or loste any blood. And now, my dear reader, I am going to show
you the hardening nature of sin. When I was struggling in the water for
life I gave up all hope, I was dead in my own mind; nevertheless my
conscience was so dead asleep I thought nothing aboute Heaven or hell
or judgment; and if I had died then I am sure I should have awaked
amongst devils and damned spirits. See here this greate salvation and
that of the Lord. I have been very near drowned, I think, twice before
this, and have been exposed to many dangers many a time in the course of
time betwen the five years the lugger was loste in the North Channel and
this time, privateering, smuggling, etc., but I think conscience never
so dead as now. I stayed there that night and the next evening took
chaise. My brother and me, and the docter came with us so far as
Lostwithiel, and arrived at home the night after to brother Charles
house. I stayed there about six or seven days, until it was advertised
in the papers, I think three hundred pounds for apprehending the Captain
for three months from the date thereof, which set us all of alarm. So I
moved from there to a gentleman's house at Marazion. I think I stayed
there about two or three weeks, and from thence moved to Acton
Castle,[31] as my brother John rented the farm, the famely not being
there then, so that the keys and care of the house were left to his
charge, and after a few days removed to Marazion again, then afraid of
the shaking of a leaf. I think I might have stayed at Marazion for the
course of a fortnight, and then went to the Castle again.[32] I used to
half burn my coals by night in order that there should be no smoke seen
in the daytime. In the course of about three months, after my wounds
were nearly healed, I used to go at night to the King's Cove and there
to drink grog, etc., with the Cove boys until the gray of the morning,
convictions following me very sharp still at times. In my way home to my
dreary lodgings, the larks flying up in the fields around me, warbling
out their little beautiful notes, used to move me with envy, saying,
"These dear little birds answer the end they were sent in the world for,
but me, the worst of all creatures that ever was made." So that I have
wished many a time I had been a toad, a serpent, or anything, so that I
had no soul, for I know I must give an account for my conduct in this
world. Likewayse there was a gray thrush that sang to me night and
morning close to the house, which have preached to me many a sermon.