and hoysting sail for England I landed on the 23rd day of Aprill, 1626,
at Foy in Cornwall.”
Whilst Peeke was in Spain, Lord Wimbledon had been blundering with his
fleet and army worse than before. After he had reshipped his army,
there still remained the hope of intercepting the plate fleet, but
an infectious disorder broke out in the ships of Lord Delaware, and
in consequence of an insane order given by Wimbledon, that the sick
should be distributed into the healthy ships, the malady spread. After
beating about for eighteen days with a dreadful mortality on board,
and without catching a glimpse of the treasure vessels from the New
World, Lord Wimbledon resolved to carry his dishonoured flag home
again, “which was done in a confused manner, and without any observance
of sea orders.” The plate fleet, which had been hugging the coast of
Barbary, appeared off the coast of Spain two or three days after his
departure, and entered safely into the harbour of Cadiz. Moreover,
whilst he was master of these seas, a fleet of fifty sail, laden with
treasure, got safe into Lisbon, from Brazil. With the troops and crews
dreadfully reduced in numbers, with sickness and discontent in every
vessel, and without a single prize of the least value, Lord Wimbledon
arrived in Plymouth Sound, to be hissed and hooted by the indignant
people, and to have his name of Cecil ridiculed as Sit-still. This
sorry and unsuccessful expedition which had cost Charles so much was a
grievous blow to him. A thousand men had perished in the expedition,
a great sum of money had been thrown away, and the whole country was
roused to anger. The Privy Council was convened and an examination
into the miscarriage was instituted, but the statements of the
officers were discordant, their complaints reciprocal, and after a long
investigation, it was deemed expedient to bury the whole matter in
silence.
It has been well said, that the only man who of the whole expedition
came out with credit to himself and to his country was Richard Peeke,
of Tavistock, who earned for himself the epithet of “Manly.”
What became of Peeke afterwards we do not know; in the troubles of the
Civil War he doubtless played a part, and almost certainly on the side
of the Crown. The authority for the story is a rare pamphlet by Peeke
himself, entitled, “Three to One, Being, An English-Spanish Combat,
Performed by a Westerne Gentleman, of Tavystoke in Devonshire, with an
English Quarter-Staffe, against Three Spanish Rapiers and Poniards, at
Sherries in Spaine, The fifteene day of November, 1625 ... the Author
of this Booke, and Actor in this Encounter, _Richard Peeke_.” There is
no date to it. This has been reprinted by Mr. Arber in his _English
Garner_, and large extracts have been given by Mr. Brooking-Rowe in
his article, “Manly Peeke, of Tavistock,” in the _Transactions_ of the
Devonshire Association, 1879. Reprinted also as supplement to _Devon
Notes and Queries_, 1905. I have not in the above extracts strictly
confined myself to the spelling, nor have I reproduced the capital
letters employed profusely that are somewhat teasing to the eye of the
modern reader.
EULALIA PAGE
Mrs. Bray, in her _Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy_, written in
1832-3, quoting a letter from her husband, the Rev. E. Atkins Bray, to
Mr. Lysons, dated 16 January, 1819, tells the following story relative
to Judge Glanville, of Kilworthy, near Tavistock:--
“The Judge’s daughter was attached to George Stanwich, a young man
of Tavistock, lieutenant of a man-of-war, whose letters, the father
disapproving of the attachment, were intercepted. An old miser of
Plymouth, of the name of Page, wishing to have an heir to disappoint
his relations, who perhaps were too confident in calculating upon
sharing his wealth, availed himself of the apparent neglect of the
young sailor, and settling on her a good jointure obtained her hand.
She took with her a maid-servant from Tavistock; but her husband was
so penurious that he dismissed all the other servants, and caused
his wife and her maid to do all the work themselves. On an interview
subsequently taking place between her and Stanwich, she accused him
of neglecting to write to her; and then discovered that his letters
had been intercepted. The maid advised them to get rid of the old
gentleman, and Stanwich at length, with great reluctance, consented
to their putting an end to him. Page lived in what was afterwards the
Mayoralty House (at Plymouth), and a woman who lived opposite hearing
at night some sand thrown against a window, thinking it was her own,
arose, and, looking out, saw a young gentleman near Page’s window, and
heard him say, ‘For God’s sake stay your hand!’ A female replied, ‘’Tis
too late, the deed is done.’ On the following morning it was given
out that Page had died suddenly in the night, and as soon as possible
he was buried. On the testimony, however, of his neighbour, the body
was taken up again; and it appearing that he had been strangled, his
wife, Stanwich, and the maid, were tried and executed. It is current
among the common people here, that Judge Glanville, her own father,
pronounced her sentence.”
In another place, Mrs. Bray says:--
“Respecting Sir John, or ‘Old Page,’ I am informed by Mr. Hughes
(who is well acquainted with many locally interesting stories and
traditions) that he was an eminent merchant in his day, commonly called
‘Wealthy Page.’ He lived in Woolster Street, Plymouth, in the house
since known by the name of the Mayoralty. It stood untouched till the
rebuilding of the Guildhall, when it was taken down. The old house
was long an object of curiosity on account of the atrocious murder
there committed. Mr. Hughes likewise tells me that some years ago,
previous to the repairs in St. Andrew’s Church, Plymouth, Page’s coffin
was discovered, on breaking the ground near the communion table for
the interment of a lady named Lovell. The inscription on the coffin
proved it to contain the body of the ‘wealthy Page.’ It was opened;
the remains were found in a remarkably perfect state, but crumbled to
dust on being exposed to the air. So great was the curiosity of the
populace, that during several days hundreds pressed in to gratify it,
and every relic that could be stolen, if but a nail from the coffin,
was carried off.”
Judge Glanville, M.P. for Tavistock in 1586, was the third son of
John Glanville, of Tavistock, merchant. The family had been settled
at Holwell, in Whitchurch, hard by, where they had been tanners, and
though the house has been pulled down and rebuilt, yet the old tan-pits
remain.
Judge Glanville married Alice, daughter of John Skirett, of Tavistock,
and widow of Sir Francis Godolphin. By her he had a numerous family,
but Mistress Page, whose Christian name was Eulalia, is not recorded in
the _Heralds’ Visitation_ as one of them. This, however, is in itself
no evidence against her having been his daughter, as having disgraced
the family she would be omitted from the pedigree. Thus, in the family
of Langford, of Langford, in Bratton Clovelly, Margaret, daughter
of Moses Langford, born in February, 1605, had a base child who was
christened Hilary, in January, 1618, when she was aged thirteen, and
married Hilary Hill, of Chimsworthy, presumedly the father, in 1619.
When the family recorded their pedigree in 1620, they omitted Margaret
from it altogether.
It is therefore no evidence that Eulalia was not Judge Glanville’s
daughter that her name does not appear in the recorded pedigree. We
shall see presently, however, that she was his niece, and not his
daughter.
The whole of the portion relating to Page is printed in the
_Shakespeare Society’s Papers_, II (1845, 80-5). From this we learn
that Mrs. Page made an attempt to poison her husband, and when that
failed, induced “one of her servants, named Robert Priddis [i.e.
Prideaux],” to murder him, and “she so corrupted him ... that he
solemnly undertook and vowed to performe the task to her contentment.
On the other side, Strangwidge hired one Tom Stone to be an actor in
this tragicall action.” The deed was accomplished about ten o’clock on
the night of 11 February, 1590-1.
A full and particular account of the murder is in “A true discourse
of a cruel and inhumane murder, committed upon M. Padge, of Plimouth,
the 11th day of February last, 1591, by the consent of his own wife
and sundry others.” From this we learn that a Mr. Glandfeeld, a man
of good wealth and account as any in the county, lived at Tavistock,
and that he favoured a young man named George Strangwidge, and turned
over to him his shop and wares, as an experienced man in business,
having learned it in the shop of Mr. Powell, of Bread Street, London.
Mr. Glandfeeld was so pleased with him, that he proposed taking
Strangwidge into partnership and marrying his daughter to him. But he
changed his mind, being moved by ambition and avarice, and he and his
wife insisted on her marrying a widower named Page, of Plymouth, an
elderly man and a miser, and as Glandfeeld purposed himself removing
to Plymouth, he thought that it would be best to have his daughter
near him. This daughter was with difficulty persuaded to consent,
but did so in the end. The result was that she took the old husband
in detestation, and plotted with Strangwidge how to get rid of him.
For about a year she made sundry attempts to poison him, but his good
constitution prevailed. She on her part worked on one of her servants,
Robert Priddis or Prideaux, and induced him for the sum of £140 reward,
to murder the old man. On the other hand, Strangwidge induced one Tom
Stone to assist in the deed, also for the sake of payment. “These two
instruments wickedly prepared themselves to effect this desperate and
villainous deed on the 11th February, being Wednesday, on which night
following the act was committed; but it is to be remembered that this
Mistress Page lay not then with her husband, by reason of the untimely
birth of a child ... dead born; upon which cause she kept her chamber,
having before sworn that she would never bear child of his getting that
should prosper; which argued a most ungodly mind in this woman, for in
that sort she had been the death of two of her own children.
“About ten of the clock at night, Mr. Page being in bed slumbering,
could not happen upon a sound sleep, and lay musing to himself, Tom
Stone came softly and knocked at the door, whereupon Priddis, his
companion, did let him in; and by reason that Mistress Page gave them
straight charge to dispatch it that night, whatsoever came of it, they
drew towards the bed, intending immediately to go about it. Mr. Page,
being not asleep, asked who came in, whereat Priddis leaped upon his
master, being in his bed, who roused himself and got upon his feet,
and had been hard enough for his man, but that Stone flew upon him,
and took the kerchief from his head, and knitting the same about his
neck, they immediately stifled him; and, as it appeareth, even in the
anguish of death, Mr. Page greatly laboured to put the kerchief from
about his neck, by reason of the marks and scratches which he had made
with his nails upon his throat, but therewith he could not prevail, for
they would not slip their hold until he was full dead. This done, they
laid him overthwart the bed, and against the bedside broke his neck;
and when they saw he was surely dead, they stretched him and laid him
on his bed again, spreading the clothes in ordinary sort, as though no
such act had been attempted, but that he had died on God’s hand.
“Whereupon Priddis immediately went to Mistress Page’s chamber and
told her that all was dispatched; and about an hour after he came to
his mistress’s chamber door, and called aloud, ‘Mistress, let somebody
look into my master’s chamber, methinks I heard him groan.’ With that
she called her maid, who was not privy to anything, and had her light a
candle, whereupon she slipped on a petticoat and went thither likewise,
sending her maid first into the chamber, when she herself stood at the
door. The maid simply felt on her master’s face and found him cold and
stiff, and told her mistress so; whereat she bade the maid warm a cloth
and wrap it about his feet, which she did; and when she felt his legs,
they were as cold as clay; whereat she cried out, saying her master was
dead.
“Whereupon her mistress got her to bed, and caused her man Priddis to
go call her father, Mr. Glandfeeld, then dwelling in Plymouth, and
sent for one of her husband’s sisters likewise, to make haste if ever
she would see her brother alive, for he was taken with the disease
called the pull (palsy), as they call it in that country. These persons
being sent for came immediately; whereat Mistress Page arose, and in
a counterfeit manner swooned; whereby there was no suspicion a long
time concerning any murder performed upon him, until Mrs. Harris,
his sister, spied blood about his bosom, which he had with his nails
procured by scratching for the kerchief when it was about his throat.
They then moved his head, and found his neck broken, and on both
knees the skin beaten off, by striving with them to save his life.
Mistress Harris hereupon perceiving how he was made away, went to the
Mayor and the worshipful of the town, desiring of them justice, and
entreated them to come and behold this lamentable spectacle, which they
immediately performed, and by searching him found that he was murdered
the same night.
“Upon this the Mayor committed Priddis to prison, who, being examined,
did impeach Tom Stone, showing that he was a chief actor in the same.
This Thomas Stone was married upon the next day after the murder was
committed, and being in the midst of his jollity, was suddenly attached
and committed to prison to bear his fellow company.
“Thus did the Lord unfold this wretched deed, whereby immediately
the said Mistress Page attached upon murder, and examined before
Sir Francis Drake, Knight, with the Mayor and other magistrates of
Plymouth, who denied not the same, but said she had rather die with
Strangwidge than live with Page.
“At the same time also the said George Strangwidge was nearly come
to Plymouth, being very heavy and doubtful by reason he had given
consent to the murder; who, being in company with some of London, was
apprehended and called before the justices for the same, whereupon he
confessed the truth of all and offered to prove that he had written
a letter to Plymouth before coming thither, that at any hand they
should not perform the act. Nevertheless, Mr. Page was murdered before
the coming of this letter, and therefore he was sent to prison with
the rest to Exeter; and at the Assizes holden this last Lent, the
said George Strangwidge, Mistress Page, Priddis, and Tom Stone, were
condemned and adjudged to die for the said fact, and were all executed
accordingly upon Saturday the 20th February last, 1591.”
This is circumstantial enough, and contemporary, and it shows how that
the story travelling down traditionally has been altered.
The tract above quoted--we have modernized the spelling--does not,
however, give the Christian name of Mistress Page, and gives us the
name of her father, Glandfeeld, a merchant tradesman of Tavistock.
Glandfeeld is the same as Glanville, just as Priddis is the same as
Prideaux, and as Grenville appears in the registers and in deeds as
Grenfeeld and Greenfield.
That she was not the daughter of Justice Glanville is plain from the
above account, but she was a niece, for Eulalia was the daughter of
Nicolas, the eldest son of John Glanville, merchant, of Tavistock;
he and another brother, Thomas, were in trade at Tavistock, and they
were both brothers of Judge Glanville. This we learn from the Heralds’
Visitation of Cornwall for 1620, where Eulalia is entered as daughter
of Nicolas, but with no details concerning her.
There appeared several ballads concerning the tragedy.
1. “The Lamentation of Master Page’s wife of Plimouth, who being
enforced by her parents to wed against her will, did most wickedly
consent to his murther, for the love of _George Strangwidge_, for which
fact she suffered death at Bar[n]staple in Devonshire. Written with her
own hand a little before her death.” This is, of course, untrue. It is
one of those supposititious confessions written by the common ballad
monger. By this we know that her Christian name was _Ulalia_.
2. “The Lamentation of _George Strangwidge_, who for consenting to the
death of Master _Page of Plimouth_, suffered Death at Bar[n]staple.” In
this occurs the statement that she was the daughter of “Glandfield.”
O Glandfield, cause of my committed crime,
Snared in wealth, as Birds in bush of lime,
* * * * *
I would to God thy wisdome had been more,
Or that I had not entered in the door;
Or that thou hadst a kinder Father beene
Unto thy Child, whose yeares are yet but greene.
The match unmeete which thou for much didst make,
When aged _Page_ thy Daughter home did take,
Well maist thou rue with teares that cannot dry.
Which was the cause that foure of us must dye.
_Ulalia_ faire, more bright than Summer’s sunne,
Whose beauty hath my heart for ever won,
My soule more sobs to thinke of thy disgrace,
Than to behold mine own untimely race.
In this also, as will be seen, Mistress Page is Eulalia, and her father
Glandfield is said to have been rich.
3. “The Sorrowful Complaint of _Mistress Page_ for causing her husband
to be murdered, for the love of _George Strangwidge_, who were executed
together.” This contains no particulars relative to her relationship to
the Glanvilles.
It may at first sight seem strange that a crime committed at Plymouth
should be expiated at Barnstaple, but the reason is simple enough.
In September, 1589, the plague broke out in Exeter, and it was very
fatal in that year, according to Lysons. Under ordinary circumstances
the murderers of Page would have been tried at Exeter; but with the
terrible remembrance of the “Black Assize” in that city in 1586, when
the judge, eight justices, and all the jury except one, fell victims to
the gaol fever; and the plague continuing there, the assizes of 1590
(o.s.) were removed to Barnstaple.
The Diary of Philip Wyot, town clerk of Barnstaple from 1586 to 1608,
has been printed by Mr. J. R. Chanter in his _Literary History of
Barnstaple_, and he records that the assize was held in 1590 at Honiton
and at Great Torrington, “the plague being much at Exeter,” and he
gives particulars of the assizes held at Barnstaple in the ensuing
March, 1591 (n.s.), and he terminates thus:--
“The gibbet was set up on the Castle Green and xvii prisoners hanged,
whereof iiij of Plymouth for a murder.”
The parish register gives the particulars and the names:--
“Here ffolloweth the names of the Prysoners w^{ch} were Buryed in the
Church yeard of Barnistaple ye syce [assize] week.
“March 1590-1.
* * * * *
“George Strongewithe, Buryed the xx^{th} daye.
“Thomas Stone, Buryed the xx^{th} daye.
“Robert Preidyox, Buryed at Bishopstawton y^e xx^{th} daye.”
The three men were hanged, but Eulalia Page was burnt alive, as guilty
of petty treason. Moreover, her uncle, Justice Glanville, did not
condemn her to the stake. He was serjeant-at-law, and was not made a
Justice of the Common Pleas till 1598, when he was knighted. He died in
1600, and his stately monument is in Tavistock Church.
The judge who sentenced Eulalia Page was, as Wyot tells us, “Lord
Anderson,” who tried all the cases “and gave judgment upon those who
were to be executed.” But John Glanville, serjeant-at-law, was present
at these assizes; for Wyot gives the list of the lawyers present at the
time, and he names “Sergt. Glandyl” as lodging at Roy Cades. Glandyl is
a mistake for Glandvyl.
As the crime of Eulalia Page was one of petty treason, she would be
burnt alive, and not hanged. Petty treason, according to a statute 25
Edward III, consists in (1) a servant killing his master; (2) a wife
her husband; (3) an ecclesiastic his superior, to whom he owes faith
and obedience. The punishment of petty treason in a man was to be drawn
and hanged, and in a woman to be drawn and burned.
Catherine Hayes was burned alive in 1726 for the murder of her husband.
She is the Catherine whom Thackeray took as heroine of the story
under that name. In 1769 Susanna Lott was burned for the murder of
her husband at Canterbury. A poor girl, aged fifteen, was burnt at
Heavitree by Exeter, in 1782, for poisoning her master. A woman was
burnt for causing the death of her husband, at Winchester, in 1783.
A writer in _Notes and Queries_, August 10, 1850, says: “I will state
a circumstance that occurred to myself in 1788. Passing in a hackney
coach up the Old Bailey to West Smithfield, I saw unquenched embers of
a fire opposite Newgate. On my alighting, I asked the coachman, ‘What
was that fire in the Old Bailey over which the wheel of your coach
passed?’ ‘Oh, sir,’ he replied, ‘they have been burning a woman for
murdering her husband.’”
In 1790, Sir Benjamin Hammett in the House of Commons called attention
to the then state of the law. He said that it had been his painful
office and duty in the previous year to attend the burning of a female,
he being at the time Sheriff of London; and he moved to bring in a Bill
to alter the law. He showed that the sheriff who shrank from executing
the sentence of burning alive was liable to a prosecution, but he
thanked Heaven that there was not a man in England who would carry such
a sentence literally into execution. The executioner was allowed to
strangle the woman condemned to the stake before flames were applied;
but such an act of humanity was a violation of the law, subjecting
executioner and sheriff to penalties. The Act was passed 30 George III,
c. 48.
Popular tradition has erred on many points. It has made Eulalia the
daughter instead of the niece of John Glanville, it has represented
him as a judge to try her seven years before he was created a judge.
Tradition will have it that after the sentence of Eulalia he never
smiled again. That is possible enough, as he may have defended her at
the assizes, and may have witnessed her execution.
Information concerning, and republication of tracts and ballads
relative to the murder of Page are in H. F. Whitfeld’s _Plymouth and
Devonport, in Times of War and Peace_, Plymouth, 1900. This also gives
extracts from, and mention of, plays founded on the story.
JAMES WYATT
James Wyatt was born at Woodbury on the Exe in the year 1707. His
father was a shoemaker, but James lost both him and his mother when
he was very young. He had a brother and two sisters, and he was the
youngest of the four. After the death of his parents his eldest sister
took care of him, sent him to school, and when old enough to work
got him employment on a farm, where he remained till he was fourteen
years of age; but, not liking farm work, his sister apprenticed him
to a woolcomber and dyer at Wembury. His master was a very honest,
good-natured man, and taught him his business well, and this, as we
shall see in the sequel, was of the highest advantage to him.