Soldiers Kept Guard, the Corporal seeing me in such a condition as I
was, called me in, where they had a good Fire, and he gave me some of
his Victuals; for which seasonable Kindness I gave him some money to
fetch us some good Liquor. And I told the Corporal, if he would get me
into the City the next Day, I would Requite him for it. Accordingly he
did. He brought me to a Frenchman’s House, who had a Son that lived in
England some time, and was lately come home again, who made me very
Welcome. He ask’d me what my Business was; I told him ’twas to get a
Pass to go safe down the River, (for they are so strict there in time
of War, that they’ll even examine their own Countrymen), and withal,
desired him to change a Pistole for me, and to give me instead of it
such Money as would pass current down the River. For (as I told him)
I have sometimes chang’d a Pistole, and before the Exchange of it had
been expended in my Travels, some of the money would not pass current.
He chang’d my Pistole for me, and told me what Money would pass in such
a place, and what in such a place, and what I should reserve last to
pass in Holland. And he was moreover so civil, as to go to the public
Office and obtain a Pass for me. After which he brought me to his House
again, and caused one of his Servants to direct me to an Inn, where I
should Quarter, and bid me come again to him the next Morning, when
he sent his Servant to call me, and also to pay off my Host, but I
had paid him before, for which he show’d Dislike. After all which, he
conducted me to the River’s side where was a Boatfull of Passengers
ready to go to Mentz. This obliging Gentleman (whose name was Van der
Luh’r) told the Master of the Boat, that he would satisfy him for my
Passage to Mentz; and moreover desired an Acquaintance of his in the
Boat to take care of me; and when at Mentz, to direct me to such a
Merchant, to whom he gave a Letter, and therewith a piece of Money to
drink his Health.
“When we came to Mentz, we were every Man to produce his Passport;
and as the Passes were looking over, the Person in the Boat, who was
desired to take care of me, sent a Boy to call the Merchant to whom I
was to deliver the Letter; who immediately came, and invited me to his
House.
“It hap’ned that this Gentleman was a Slave in Algier at the same time
I was. He enquired of me about his Patroon, whom I knew very well; and
we talk’d about many other things relating to Algier. I received much
kindness and Hospitality from the Gentleman; he paid off my Quarters
for that Night; and also gave me Victuals and Money, and paid for my
Passage from Mentz to Cologne; and moreover, sent by me a Letter of
Recommendation to his Correspondent there.
“At Cologne I received the like Kindness, and had my Passage paid to
Rotterdam; and if I would, I might have had a Letter of Recommendation
to some Gentle-man there too; but I refus’d it (with hearty Thanks for
the offer) being loath to be too troublesome to my Friends.
“I found great Kindness at Rotterdam and Helversluyce, whither our
English Packquet-Boats arrive. But when I came into England, my own
native Country, here I was very badly treated; for the very first Night
that I lay in England, I was impressed for to go in the King’s Service.
And notwithstanding that I made known my Condition, and used many
Arguments for my Liberty, with Tears, yet all this would not prevail,
but away I must; and was carried to Colchester Prison, where I lay some
Days. While I was in Prison I Writ a Letter to Sir William Falkener,
one of the Smyrna Company in London, on whom I had a Bill for a little
Money; he immediately got a Protection for me, and sent it me, which
was not only my present Discharge, but prevented all further Trouble
to me on my Road Homeward, which otherwise I must unavoidably have met
with.
“When I came from Colchester to London, I made it my Business, as in
Duty bound, to go and pay my Thanks to the honourable Gentleman, from
whom I received fresh Kindness. After this I made what hast I could to
dear Exeter, where I safely came, to the great Joy of my Friends and
Relations.
“I was in Algier above Fifteen Years. After I went out of Topsham, it
was about Half a Year before I was taken a Slave. And after I came out
of Algier it was well nigh Twelve Months ere I could reach home.”
This interesting narrative is from “A true and Faithful Account of the
Religion and Manners of the Mohammetans. In which is a particular
Relation of their Pilgrimage to Mecca ... by Joseph Pitts of Exon.”
Exon, 1704. A second edition was published at Exeter in 1717; and a
third edition corrected, at London, in 1731.
THE DEMON OF SPREYTON
“About the month of November last in the Parish of Spraiton, one
Francis Fey (servant to Mr. Philip Furze) being in a Field near
the Dwelling house of the said Master, there appeared unto him the
resemblance of an old Gentleman, like his Master’s Father, with a Pole
or Staff in his hand, like that he was wont to carry when living, to
kill Moles withal. The Spectrum approached near the young Man, who was
not a little surprised at the Appearance of one whom he knew to be
dead, but the Spectrum bade him have no Fear, but tell his Master that
several Legacies, which by his Testament he had bequeathed were unpaid,
naming ten shillings to one, ten shillings to another, both which he
named. The young man replied that the party last named was dead, and
so it could not be paid to him. The Ghost answered, He knew that, but
it must be paid to the next relative, whom he also named. The Spectrum
likewise ordered him to carry twenty shillings to a Gentlewoman, sister
of the Deceased, living at Totness, and promised if these things were
done, to trouble him no more. At the same time the Spectrum speaking
of his second wife (also dead) called her a wicked Woman, though the
Relater knew her and esteemed her as a good Woman.”
The spectre vanished. The young man did as enjoined and saw that
the legacies were duly paid, and he took twenty shillings to the
gentlewoman near Totnes; but she utterly refused to receive it,
believing it to have been sent to her by the devil.
That same night, the young man, who was lodging in the house of his
former master’s sister, saw the ghost again. The youth thereupon
remonstrated with it and reminded it of the promise made no more to
annoy him, and he explained that the deceased man’s sister refused
to accept the money. Then the spirit bade the young man take horse,
ride into Totnes, and buy a ring of the value of twenty shillings, and
assured him that the lady would receive that.
Next day, after having delivered the ring, that was accepted, the young
man was riding home to his master’s, accompanied by a servant of the
gentlewoman near Totnes, and as they entered the parish of Spreyton,
the ghost was seen sitting on the horse behind the youth. It clasped
its long arms about his waist and flung him from his saddle to the
ground. This was witnessed by several persons in the road, as well as
by the serving man from Totnes.
On entering the yard of Mr. P. Furze’s farm, the horse made a bound of
some twenty-five feet, to the amazement of all.
Soon after this a female ghost appeared in the house, and was seen by
the same young man, as also by Mrs. Thomasine Gidley, Anne Langdon,
and a little child. She was able to assume various shapes: sometimes
she appeared as a dog, belching fire, at another she went out of the
window in the shape of a horse, breaking one pane of glass and a piece
of iron. It was certainly vastly considerate of her in the bulk of a
horse to do so little damage! But usually she stalked along the passage
and appeared in the rooms in her own form. No doubt could exist as to
who this troublesome ghost was. The “spectrum” of the old gentleman
had already hinted that his second wife was a bad woman, and could make
herself unpleasant.
On one occasion, invisible hands laid hold of the young man, and rammed
his head into a narrow space between the bedstead and the wall, and it
took several persons to extricate him; and then, what with fright and
what with the pressure, he was so unwell that a surgeon was sent for to
bleed him. No sooner was this operation performed, than the ligatures
about the arm were suddenly snatched at and torn off, and slung about
his waist, and there drawn so tight that he was nearly suffocated. They
had to be cut through with a knife to relieve him. At other times his
cravat was drawn tight.
The spectre was of a playful humour sometimes, and would pluck the
perukes off the heads of people, and one that was on top of a cabinet
in a box, with a joint-stool on it, was drawn out and ripped to
shreds--and this was the most costly wig in the house.
At another time the youth’s “shoe-string” was observed without
assistance of hands to come out of his shoe of its own accord and cast
itself to the other side of the room, whereupon the other shoe-lace
started crawling after its companion. A maid espying this, with her
hand drew it back, when it clasped and curled round her hand like an
eel or serpent.
The young man’s clothes were taken off and torn to shreds, as were
those of another servant in the house, and this while they were on
their backs. A barrel of salt was seen to march out of one room and
into another, untouched by human hands. When the spectre appeared in
her own likeness she was habited in the ordinary garments of women
at the time, especially like those worn by Mrs. Philip Furze, her
daughter-in-law.
On Easter Eve the young man was returning from the town when he was
caught by the female spectre by his coat and carried up into the air,
head, legs, and arms dangling down.
Having been missed by his master and fellow servants, search was made
for him, but it was not till half an hour later that he was found at
some distance from the house plunged to his middle in a bog, and in
a condition of ecstasy or trance, whistling and singing. He was with
difficulty extracted and taken to the house and put to bed. All the
lower part of his body was numbed with cold from long immersion in the
morass. One of his shoes was found near the doorstep of the house,
another at the back of the house, and his peruke was hanging among the
top branches of a tree. On his recovery he protested that the spirit
had carried him aloft till his master’s house had seemed to him no
bigger than a haycock.
As his limbs remained benumbed he was taken to Crediton on the
following Saturday to be bled. After the operation he was left by
himself, but when his fellows came in they found his forehead cut and
swollen and bleeding. According to him, a bird with a stone in its beak
had flown in at the window and dashed it at his brow. The room was
searched; no stone, but a brass weight was found lying on the floor.
“This is a faithful account of the Contents of a Letter from a Person
of Quality in Devon, dated 11 May, 1683. The young man will be 21 if he
lives to August next.”
The title of this curious pamphlet is: “A Narrative of the Demon of
Spraiton. In a Letter from a Person of Quality in the County of Devon,
to a Gentleman in London, with a Relation of an Apparition or Spectrum
of an Ancient Gentleman of Devon who often appeared to his Son’s
Servant. With the Strange Actions and Discourses happening between
them at divers times. As likewise, the Demon of an Ancient Woman, Wife
of the Gentleman aforesaid. With unparalell’d varieties of strange
Exploits performed by her: Attested under the Hands of the said Person
of Quality, and likewise a Reverend Divine of the said County. With
Reflections on Drollery and Atheism, and a Word to those that deny the
Existence of Spirits.” London, 1683.
It is pretty obvious that the mischievous and idle youth was at the
bottom of all this bedevilment. This was but an instance of the
Poltergeist that so exercised the minds of Körner, Mrs. Crowe, and the
like, but which can all be traced back to a knavish servant.
TOM AUSTIN
Tom Austin was a native of Collumpton, and was the son of a respectable
yeoman, who, at his death, left him his little property, which was
estimated at that time as worth £80 per annum. As he bore a good
character, he soon got a wife with a marriage portion of £800.
Unhappily this accession to his means completely turned his head. He
became wild and extravagant, and in less than four years had dissipated
all his wife’s fortune and mortgaged his own farm. Being now somewhat
pinched in circumstances, he was guilty of several frauds on his
neighbours, but they did not prosecute him, out of respect for his
family. Then, unable to satisfy his needs, he took to the highway, and
stopped Sir Zachary Wilmot on the road between Wellington and Taunton
Dean, and as the worthy knight resisted being robbed, Austin shot him
dead. From Sir Zachary he got forty-six guineas and a silver-hilted
sword. With this plunder he made haste home to Collumpton undiscovered.
This did not last long, as he continued in the same course of riot.
When it was spent he started to visit an uncle of his, living at a
distance of a mile.
On reaching the house he found nobody within but his aunt and five
small children, who informed him that his uncle had gone away for the
day on business, and they invited him to stay and keep them company
till his return. He consented, but almost immediately snatched up an
axe and split the skull of his aunt with it, then cut the throats
of all the children, laid their bodies in a heap, and proceeded to
plunder the house of the money it contained, which amounted to sixty
guineas. Then he hastened home to his wife, who, perceiving some blood
on his clothes, asked whence it came. In reply he rushed upon her with
a razor, cut her throat, and then murdered his own two children, the
eldest of whom was not three years of age.
Hardly had he finished with these butcheries before his uncle arrived,
calling on his way home. On entering the house this man saw what had
been done, and though little suspecting what would meet his eyes when
he returned home, with great resolution flung himself upon Tom Austin,
mastered him, bound his hands, and brought him before a magistrate, who
sent him to Exeter Gaol.
In August, 1694, this inhuman wretch was hanged. He seemed quite
insensible as to the wickedness of his acts, as well as to the
senselessness of them, and there can be little doubt that he was a
victim to homicidal madness.
When on the scaffold, when asked by the chaplain if he had anything to
say before he died: “Only this,” was his reply, “I see yonder a woman
with some curds and whey, and I wish I could have a pennyworth of them
before I am hanged, as I don’t know when I shall see any again.” Tom
Austin had many errors, many faults, many crimes to expiate, but he
carried with him into the next world one merit--his undying love of
Devonshire junket, the same as curds and whey.
FRANCES FLOOD
“Frances Flood was born in Gitsom (Gittisham), near Honiton in Devon,
and on the 22nd January, 1723, being thirty-two years of age, I went
from Philip’s Norton to the town of Saltford, where I had for lodging
an Inn. I arose well in the Morning, thinking to go about my Business:
but being come out of the Door, I was taken very ill, and before I came
to the Village I was not sensible in what condition I was in, and not
able to go, was forced to hold by the Wall as I went along: With great
Difficulty I got to the Overseer’s House, and desired him to get me a
lodging, but he denied me; whereupon I went up the Street and lay in a
Hogsty, where many People came to see me. I lay there till the Evening
in a sad Condition, when the Overseer’s Wife of that Place led me to
the Overseer’s again, but he still denied me Relief; and, not being
very sensible, I returned again to the same Place, but they had been
so inhuman as to put some Dung into it, to prevent my lodging there
again; but at last I got into another which had no Cover over it as the
other had. In the Morning when I awoke, I went up the Street and with
Weakness fell down, so that Streams of Water ran over me, till helped
up by the Clerk of the Parish’s Wife, who led me till I came to the
wall, by which I held, and with great Trouble got to the Barn, but the
Owner of the Barn was so barbarous as to unhang the Door the next Day;
a young Man, out of Compassion, hung the Door again. The Owner was so
displeased, that he came a second Time and unhung it.
“The next Day, the Small-Pox appeared on me, and was noised about;
insomuch that the Overseer came and put up the Door, and then I had
both Meat and Drink, but took no further Care of me for 14 days; the
Small-Pox appeared very kind and favourable and might have done very
well, had I not been taken in my Legs, and should have been able to go
away in a Fortnight; after which I was taken on my Calfs, which turned
black and cold and looked much like Scalds, and broke out. I applied to
them first of all a Bathe, but the Flesh speedily parted from the small
of my Legs to the Bones. I had there by me some Ointment, which was
brought me by the Overseer; but had no one to dress my Wounds, but did
all myself.
“I freely forgive all the Parish, and as for the Overseers, they did to
the utmost of their power, when my Flesh was separated; and whatever I
desired of them, they sent me, so I desire that all may be blameless
of my Misfortunes. My Pains increased to a wonderful Degree and my
Legs grew worse, and was driven to dismal Extremity, and lay in that
Condition three Weeks.
“On the 18th Day of March about 8 o’clock in the Evening there came a
Woman to the Barn-door to ask me how I did. I was going to show her
how my Legs were, and how the Flesh was separated from the Bones, and
leaning a little harder than Ordinary upon my left leg, it broke off as
though it were a rotten Stick, a little below the Calf; the woman left
me, and I was surprised, but God enabled me to bind up my Leg again
with the same Medicines as before; and when most of the People of the
Village were at rest, then a Man that liv’d over against the Barn came
to see me, and asked me how I did. I desired him to get me some Beer at
the Overseers, but he fetched me some of his own and left me; so there
was no one with me. I submitted myself to God, and after some time fell
asleep, and slept till the morning. And as soon as ’twas Light, dressed
the wound before any came to me, and the Flesh covered the Bone,
but had no Loss of Marrow, and but little of Blood, nor hardly any
Pain. The Mercies there received at the Hands of God exceeded all the
Punishment was due to me thro’ Sin, and His Mercy I never did deserve.
I was visited by abundance of People, and amongst them God sent me the
Minister of Keinsham, and Mr. Brown of the same Town came along with
him, and they afforded me much Comfort; they told me they never saw the
like, and it was God’s handy Work, and not Man’s, so taking leave of
me, they wished that the God of Heaven might be my Physician, and it
gave me a merry Heart and cheerful Countenance, and gave them Thanks
for what Favours I had received from them, and my Pains still ceased.
Abundance came both far and near all the Week to see me, and amongst
the rest a Surgeon, who persuaded me to have the Bone of my right Leg
taken off, to which I gave Consent. On the 25th about 6 in the Morning,
when I arose and opened the Cloaths, I found my Legs were fallen from
me, and the Pains I then suffered were not worthy to be called Pains;
so I dressed it with the same Medicine I made use of before; within two
Hours after came several People to visit me. I unbound the Cloaths and
the Flesh was closed over the Bone, and the Blood was stopp’d. So I had
great Reason to praise the Lord for all His Mercies and Favours I had
received from Time to Time.”
EPITAPH ON F. FLOOD’S LEGS
Buried in Saltford Churchyard
Stop Reader, and a Wonder See,
As strange as e’er was known!
My Feet drop’d off from my Body,
In the Middle of the Bone.
I had no Surgeon for my Help
But God Almighty’s Aid,
In Whom I ever will rely
And never be afraid.
Though here beneath (the Mold) they lie
Corruption for to see,
Yet they shall one Day reunite
To all Eternity.
The last line might have been amended to--
And walk away with me.
This curious tract is entitled _The Devonshire Woman: or a Wonderful
Narrative of Frances Flood_. It bears no date, but is of about 1724.
At the end stands: “Printed for Frances Flood, and sold by Nobody but
herself.”
In fact, the poor creature went about on crutches selling the story of
her misfortunes. The tract is very scarce, but there is a copy in the
British Museum.
SIR WILLIAM HANKFORD
In the Second Part of _Henry IV_, Shakespeare makes his hero, Prince
Hal, behave with splendid generosity to Judge Gascoigne, who had
committed him to prison for striking him in open court.
The King says to him:--
How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
The immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
May this be wash’d in Lethe, and forgotten?
The Chief Justice replies:--
I then did use the person of your father;
The image of his power lay then in me:
And, in the administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleasèd to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I presented,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,
And did commit you.
Shakespeare makes King Henry V recognize that Gascoigne was in the
right.
You are right, justice, and you weigh this well;
Therefore still bear the balance and the sword.
But here Shakespeare has not been true to history. His ideal king
was not so generous as he represented him. In fact, directly on his
accession Henry displaced Gascoigne from the Chief-Justiceship, and
elevated to his place the Devonshire lawyer Sir William Hankford,
Knight of the Bath.
Prince, indeed, in his _Worthies of Devon_, claims that it was Hankford
who committed Prince Hal to prison; but this is a mistake, the brave
and resolute judge was Sir William Gascoigne, who was displaced, and
Sir William Hankford installed as Chief Justice in his room by Henry V
eight days after his accession.
Sir William was probably born at Hankford, the ancient seat of the
family, in the hamlet of Bulkworthy, a chapel-of-ease to Buckland
Brewer. He was made Serjeant-at-law in 1391 in the reign of Richard
II, and was advanced to be one of the lords-justices in the Court of
Common Pleas in 1397. He was made Knight of the Bath at the coronation
of Henry IV, and, as already said, he was called up higher to be Chief
Justice by Henry V on his accession to the throne. He retained his
office for part of a year under Henry VI, so that he served under
four kings. He moved from Hankford, the family seat, to Annery, in
the parish of Monkleigh, near Great Torrington, a beautiful spot on
the Torridge. Here he had a stately mansion “famous for a large upper
gallery, wherein might be placed thirty standing beds, fifteen of a
side, and yet not one to be seen there. Nor could you from one bed
see another: for this gallery being very long and wainscotted on each
hand, there were several doors in it, which led into little alcoves or
apartments, well plaistered and whited, large and convenient enough for
private lodgings.”
Annery still stands in its beautiful park, but the gallery has
disappeared; it was pulled down in the year 1800.
Towards the end of his days Hankford fell into deep fits of depression
in retirement at Annery, where, weary of life and despondent at the
prospect of the new reign with an infant as king, and with furious
rivalries ready to break forth and tear the kingdom to pieces, he was
impatient that death might end his troubles.
“On a fit time for the purpose, he called to him the keeper of his
park, which adjoined his house at Annery, and charged him with
negligence in his office, suffering his deer to be killed and stolen;
whereupon he left it in strict charge with him, that he should be more
careful in his rounds by night, and that if he met any one in his
walk that would not stand and speak, he should shoot him, whoever he
was, and that he would discharge him (i.e. free him of blame). This
the keeper directly promised, and too faithfully performed. The judge
having thus laid the design, meaning to end his doleful days, in a
dark tempestuous night, fit for so black an action, secretly conveyed
himself out of the house, and walked alone in his park, just in the
keeper’s way; who being then in his round, hearing somebody coming
towards him, demanded, Who was there. No answer being made, he required
him to stand; the which when he refused to do, the keeper shot and
killed him upon the place: and coming to see who he was, found him to
be his master.”
So relates Prince, following Baker’s _Chronicle_, 1643, and Risdon and
Westcote. But Sir Richard Baker’s account is full of errors: he makes
Hankford die in the reign of Edward IV, whereas he died in the same
year as Henry V (1422). Prince objects that the story may not be true
or only partly true. That Sir William was killed by his keeper is a
fact not to be disputed, but that he purposely contrived his own death
is very doubtful--it is a conjecture and no more.
Sir William was a liberal and religious man: he built the chapel
at Bulkworthy, as well as the Annery Aisle to Monkleigh Church. In
this latter he lies interred, and a noble monument was erected over
him, with the epitaph: “Hic jacet Willielmus Hankford, Miles, quondam
Capitalis Justiciarius Domini Regis de Banco, qui obiit xx die mensis
Decembris, Anno Domini /MCCCCXXII/. Cujus Animae propicietur
Deus. Amen.”
He is represented kneeling in his robes alongside of his wife. Out of
his mouth proceeds this prayer: “Miserere mei Deus, secundum magnam
misericordiam tuam.” A book in his hand is inscribed with “Miserere mei
Deus secundum magnam justiciam divinam,” and over his head is “Beati
qui custodiunt judicium et faciunt justiciam omni tempore.”
SIR JOHN FITZ