privation and incessant storm, they reached Conception Bay, in the
Avalon Peninsula, Newfoundland. They had been reduced to a quarter of
a biscuit per diem and a wine-glass of port wine and spirit, and then
of water.
Captain Fellowes says: "Overpowered by my own feelings, and impressed
with the recollections of our sufferings and the sight of so many
deplorable objects, I promised to offer up our solemn thanks to heaven
for our miraculous deliverance. Every one cheerfully assented, and as
soon as I opened the Prayer-book there was an universal silence. A
spirit of devotion was singularly manifested on this occasion, and to
the benefits of a religious sense in uncultivated minds must be
ascribed that discipline, good order, and exertion, which even the
sight of land could scarcely produce.
"The wind having blown with great violence from off the coast, we did
not reach the landing-place at Island Cove till four o'clock in the
evening. All the women and children in the village, with two or three
fishermen (the rest of the men being absent), came down to the beach,
and appearing deeply affected at our wretched situation, assisted in
carrying us up the craggy rocks, over which we were obliged to pass to
get to their habitations.
"The small village afforded neither medical aid nor fresh provisions,
of which we stood so much in need, potatoes and salt fish being the
only food of the inhabitants. I determined, therefore, to lose no time
in proceeding to S. John's, having hired a small schooner for that
purpose. On the 7th July we embarked in three divisions, placing the
most infirm in the schooner, the master's mate being in charge of the
cutter, and the boatswain of the jolly-boat; but such was the
exhausted state of nearly the whole party, that the day was
considerably advanced before we could get under way.
"Towards dusk it came on to blow hard in squalls off the land, when we
lost sight of the cutter, and were obliged to come to anchor outside
S. John's Harbour. We were under great apprehensions for the cutter's
safety, as she had no grapnel, and lest she should be driven out to
sea, but at daylight we perceived her and the schooner entering the
harbour.
"The ladies, Colonel Cooke, Captain Thomas, and myself, having left
the schooner when she anchored, notwithstanding the badness as well as
extreme darkness of the night, reached the shore about midnight. We
wandered for some time about the streets, there being no house open at
that late hour, but were at length admitted into a small tenement,
where we passed the remainder of the night on chairs, there being but
one miserable bed for the ladies. Early on the following day, our
circumstances being made known, hundreds of people crowded down to the
landing-place. Nothing could exceed their surprise on seeing the
boats that had carried twenty-nine persons such a distance over a
boisterous sea, and when they beheld so many miserable objects, they
could not conceal their emotions of pity and concern."
It was found that the greatest circumspection had to be used in
administering nourishment to those who came on shore. They were so much
frost-bitten, moreover, as to require constant surgical assistance. Many
had lost their toes, and they were constrained to remain at S. John's
till they were in a fit state to be removed to Halifax.
On the 11th July Captain Fellowes, with Captain Thomas, and
Lieutenant-Colonel Cooke, engaged the cabin of a small vessel, bound
for Oporto, so as to return to England.
When Captain Fellowes sent in his report on the loss of the _Lady
Hobart_, he added a postscript: "I regret that, in the hurry of
drawing up this narrative, I should have omitted to make particular
mention of Captain Richard Thomas, R.N., from whose great professional
skill and advice throughout our perilous voyage I derived the greatest
assistance."
In December, 1803, Captain Thomas commissioned the _Ætna_ bomb, and
soon after joined the fleet under Lord Nelson in the Mediterranean
station, where he was very actively employed up to the battle of
Trafalgar. After that he served as flag-captain under his old friend
and patron, Lord Collingwood.
In February, 1811, he was appointed to the _Undaunted_, employed in
co-operation with the Spanish patriots off the coast of Catalonia. He
was subsequently employed in command of a squadron stationed in the Gulf
of Lyons, blockading Toulon. He was made Vice-Admiral of the Blue in
1848; Admiral of the Blue, 1854; Admiral of the White, 1857, in which
year he died, and was buried at Stonehouse, 27th August. He married, in
1827, Gratiana, daughter of Lieutenant-General Richard Williams, R.N.
His brother, Charles Thomas, M.D., was for some time physician to the
Devonport Dispensary.
FOOTNOTE:
[16] Afterwards Sir George Cocks, K.C.B., who lost an arm at Waterloo.
COMMANDER JOHN POLLARD
Little did John Pollard as signal midshipman of the _Victory_ in the
battle of Trafalgar suppose that he was running up a message to the
fleet from Nelson that would never be forgotten so long as the English
name lasts, and the Englishman maintains the character which has ever
belonged to him.
He was the son of John Pollard, and entered the Navy on November 1st,
1797. Before the battle commenced Nelson dictated the signal, "England
_confides_ that every man will do his duty." Pollard, to whom the
order was given, remarked that the word _confides_ was not in the
code, and suggested in its stead the term _expects_, which Nelson at
once accepted. Napoleon so much admired this last order of Nelson's
that he caused it to be printed, with a difference, of France for
England, and commanded that a copy should be given to each of the
officers of the navy. "It is the best of lessons," he said.
Pollard was born at Kingsand, Cornwall, on 27th July, 1787, so that he
was aged but eighteen when he suggested the alteration in Nelson's
famous message, and saw it signalled to the fleet. He died in the
Royal Hospital, Greenwich, 22nd April, 1868, at the advanced age of
eighty-one. He did nothing further that was remarkable, and is
remembered only in connection with Nelson's signal, an instance of:--
Unregarded age in corners thrown
THE CASE OF BOSAVERN PENLEZ
At the end of June, 1749, a sailor was robbed in a low, disreputable
house in the Strand. He stormed and demanded the restoration of his
purse, but could obtain no redress; he was laughed at and ejected from
the place. He at once returned to his vessel and narrated his wrongs,
and so roused the resentment of his comrades that they promised to
accompany him to the Strand and work retribution on the thieves.
Accordingly on July 1st a body of them marched down the Strand, and
reaching the house broke in the door and "levell'd their rage against
the house and goods of the caitif, whom they looked on as the author
of the villainy exercised on their brother Tar. Accordingly they went
to work as if they were breaking up a ship, and in a trice unrigg'd
the house from top to bottom. The movables were thrown out of the
windows or doors to their comrades in the street, where, a bonfire
being made, they were burnt, but with so much decency and order, so
little confusion, that notwithstanding the crowd gather'd together on
this occasion, a child of five years old might have crossed the street
in the thickest of them without the least danger.
"The neighbours, too, though their houses were not absolutely free from
danger of fire by the sparks flying from the bonfire, were so little
alarm'd at this riot that they stood at their doors, and look'd out of
their windows, with as little concern, and perhaps more glee and mirth,
than if they had been at a droll in Bartholomew Fair, seeing the painted
scene of the renoun'd Troy Town in flames." After the house had been
completely gutted, and not before, the guards came from the Savoy,
which, by the way, was not above a good stone's throw from the scene of
action, whereupon the sailors withdrew, unarrested and unpursued. If
matters had remained here it would have been well, but unhappily this
first performance whetted the appetites of the sailors for another, and
they resolved on sacking another house a few doors from that they had
gutted, which also did not bear a good character.
Accordingly next evening, being Sunday, they returned, and proceeded
to treat this second house in the same manner as the first "without so
much as the least interruption, till they had full timely notice to
get off before the guards arrived, who came, as before, too late, that
one would have been tempted to imagine they came too late on purpose.
"A regular bonfire then having been made as before, all the goods of
the house were triumphantly convey'd into it; and if the finding of
bundles and effects of any of the actors would have aggravated their
guilt, numbers might have been seized with the goods upon them,
between the house and the bonfire, where they were all carefully
destroy'd, to avoid any slur or suspicion of pillage for private use.
This was carry'd to such an exactness that a little boy, who perhaps
thought no great harm to save a gilt cage out of the fire for his bird
at home, was discover'd carrying it off, when the leaders of the mob
took it from him and threw it into the fire, and his age alone
protected him from severe punishment. Nothing, in short, was imbezzled
or diverted, except an old gown or petticoat, thrown at a hackney
coachman's head as a reward for a dutiful Huzza, as he drove by.
"As to the neighbours, who were at their doors and windows seeing the
whole without the least concern or alarm, there was not probably one
of those who, though as good and as loyal subjects as any his Majesty
has, and as well affected to the peace and quiet of his government,
imagin'd or dream'd there was any spirit of sedition or riotous
designs in these proceedings beyond the open and expressed intention
of destroying these obnoxious houses; and tho' the coolest and
sensiblest doubtless thought the joke was going too far, and wished
even that the Government had interposed sooner, and less faintly, yet
they had not the least notion of any such extraordinary measure of
guilt in their proceedings as would affect life or limb."
The sailors had now gathered about them, some as lookers on, some as
assistants, a large number of men and boys, and these now moved up the
street in a body, with a bell ringing before them, to the house of one
Peter Wood, a hairdresser, but in bad odour, as keeping a disorderly
house, under the sign of the Star.
Into this house the mob broke, although Peter Wood offered money if
only they would spare him and its contents. But they were deaf to his
entreaties, and his house was only saved by the arrival of the guards,
who at once proceeded to arrest several persons. Among those they
secured was Bosavern Penlez, or Penlees, son of a clergyman in
Cornwall, who had been put apprentice to a wig-maker in town.
With him were secured John Wilson, Benjamin Lander, and another, who
shortly after died of gaol-fever in Newgate. All these four, not one
of whom was a sailor, were locked up in prison, and kept there till
the September Sessions, when they were indicted "for that they,
together with divers other persons, to the number of forty and
upwards, being feloniously and riotously assembled, to the
disturbance of the public peace, did begin to demolish the house of
Peter Wood against the form of the statute in that case made and
provided, July the 3rd."
Against Lander, Peter Wood swore that "he was in the passage of his
house, assisting to break the partition; that that was the first time
of his seeing him; that he broke the window of the bar with his stick;
that he (Lander) was taken upstairs."
On a cross-examination he averred that he did not see Lander at the
first coming up of the mob to his house; but he asserted that he stuck
fast to him when he saw him in the passage, which was half an hour
before the arrival of the guards.
Peter Wood's wife swore that Lander had knocked her down, and had
beaten her almost to a jelly.
Lander, in his defence, proved that between twelve and one o'clock
that night he was going home to his lodgings, when he heard that there
was a riot in the Strand; and that meeting with a soldier who had been
ordered with his detachment to disperse the mob in the Strand, he
persuaded him to enter with him into a public-house and have a drink.
The soldier consented, and then left, and Lander followed to see the
fun, and found the mob retreating to Temple Bar, driven forward by the
guards. Thereupon, according to his own account, he went into Peter
Wood's house to see what mischief had been done, when Wood laid hold
of him, under the notion that he was a straggler left behind of those
who had begun to wreck the house. Happily at that moment in came the
soldier whom Lander had treated to a pint of beer. The evidence of
this soldier was conclusive, and Lander was discharged, after having
suffered imprisonment for over two months.
It appears evident that Peter Wood's testimony was false; not perhaps
purposely so, but erroneous through his mistaking one man for another
in the excitement of the partial destruction of his house.
The evidence he gave against John Wilson was that the man knocked him
down, and that Wilson, stooping over him, asked, "You dog, are you not
dead yet?" and that he caught hold of Wilson's hand and kissed it and
prayed for mercy. Moreover, Mrs. Wood testified that she also had
entreated him to stay his hand, and had "held him by the face, and
stroked him." The waiting-man clinched the testimony by swearing that
he also had seen Wilson in the parlour as the settee-bed was being
thrown out of the window, and that he (Wilson) helped to throw the bed
out. John Wilson earnestly protested that a mistake had been made, and
that he was not the man who had done that of which he was accused. He
brought numerous testimonies to his good character; but these availed
not, and he was condemned to death.
Bosavern Penlez admitted that he had been in Peter Wood's house; he
had been rather tipsy at the time, and had been drawn in to follow the
mob, but he had done no mischief, neither had he joined the rabble
with any evil intent. This availed not; he also was condemned to
death. At the last moment Wilson was reprieved and finally pardoned;
but poor Bosavern was hanged at Tyburn on the 18th October, 1749, at
the age of twenty-three.
Much feeling had been roused in favour of Penlez, and a petition had
been got up, numerously signed, requesting that he might be pardoned;
but it availed nothing. Then a pamphlet appeared, entitled, _The Case
of the Unfortunate Bosavern Penlez_, published by T. Clement, S.
Paul's Churchyard, 1749.
As this was widely disseminated, and comments were passed that a
grievous injustice had been committed, Henry Fielding, the magistrate,
published an answer, entitled _A True State of the Case of Bosavern
Penlez_. A. Miller, Strand, 1749.
According to this, on July 1st the house of one Owen, in the Strand,
had been attacked. Nathaniel Munns, beadle, had tried to stop it, and
two rioters were taken by the constables and conveyed to the prison of
the Duchy of Lancaster Liberty. On Sunday, July 2nd, there was a
recurrence of the riot, outside the beadle's house; the windows were
broken, the bars wrenched away, and the prisoners were released, and
doors and windows of the watch-house were smashed.
John Carter, constable, gave evidence as to July 1st, that two
wagon-loads of goods had been consumed by fire outside Owen's house.
He appealed to General Campbell, at Somerset House, for assistance,
and the General sent twelve of the Guards, when the rioters retreated,
and began an attack on the house of one Stanhope, throwing stones,
breaking windows, and pelting the soldiers, so that soon forty men of
the Guards had to be despatched to disperse the rioters.
On Sunday, July 2nd, according to the constable, the mob again
assembled in front of Stanhope's house and demolished its contents.
Mr. Wilson, a woollen draper, and Mr. Actor, of the same trade,
applied for protection, as their shops adjoined the house of Stanhope,
and again soldiers were sent for, who dispersed the mob.
James Cecil, Constable of St. George's parish, deposed that on Monday,
July 3rd, he was attending prisoners in a coach to Newgate, and he had
difficulty in making his way through the mob; and he saw the rioters
engaged in smashing the windows of a house near the Old Bailey.
Saunders Welsh, gent., High Constable of Holborn, deposed that on
Sunday, July 2nd, he had received information from Stanhope, as to the
wrecking of Owen's house on the previous night, and of his fears for
his own. On returning that same evening through Fleet Street, he
perceived a great fire in the Strand, upon which he proceeded to the
house of Peter Wood, who informed him that the rioters had demolished
the house of Stanhope, burning his furniture and goods, and that they
threatened to deal in the same manner with his house. Whereupon, he,
Mr. Saunders Welsh, applied at the Tilt-yard for a military force,
which he could only obtain with much difficulty, as he could produce
no order from a Justice of the Peace. At length he procured such
order, and then an officer and forty men were sent to the scene of the
riot. On reaching Cecil Street, he ordered that the drum should be
beaten. When he came up to Peter Wood's house, he found that the mob
had already in part demolished it, and had thrown a great part of its
contents into the street, and were debating about burning them. Had
they done so, the deponent said, it would infallibly have set fire to
the houses on both sides of the street, which at that point was very
narrow, and opposite Wood's house was the bank of Messrs. Snow and
Denne. Hearing, however, the rattle of the drum, and the tramp of the
advancing soldiers, the mob retreated, and it was whilst so retreating
that Bosavern Penlez was arrested, carrying off with him some of the
goods of Peter Wood.
Penlez and others were brought before Henry Fielding, J. P. for
Middlesex, and were committed to Newgate. This was on Monday. But the
same evening there was a recrudescence of the riots, and four thousand
sailors assembled on Tower Hill with the resolution to march to
Temple Bar. To obviate all future danger, a larger party of soldiers
was called out, and these, along with the peace officers, patrolled
the Strand all night.
Samuel Marsh, watchman of St. Dunstan's, had apprehended Bosavern
Penlez, as he was making off with a bundle of linen, which he
pretended belonged to his wife. Before he was arrested, the watchman
saw him thrusting divers lace objects into his bosom and pockets, but
he let fall a lace cap. When apprehended, he protested that he was
conveying his wife's property, who had pawned all his clothes, and
that he was retaliating by taking her articles to pawn.
There were other witnesses against Penlez, and although the evidence
of Peter Wood was worthless, that of the beadles and watchmen sufficed
to show that he had been collecting and making into a bundle various
articles from Wood's house, with the object of purloining them. The
question of Penlez having been in Wood's house was not gone into.
Bosavern in vain called for witnesses to his character. His master,
the peruke maker, declined to put in an appearance and give favourable
testimony; for, in fact, Penlez had been leading a dissipated and
disorderly life. Henry Fielding, in conclusion, says: "The first and
second day of the riot, no magistrate, nor any other higher
peace-officer than a petty constable (save only Mr. Welsh) interfered
in it. On the third day only one magistrate took on him to act. When
the prisoners were committed to Newgate, no public prosecution was for
some time ordered against them; and when it was ordered, it was
carried on so mildly, that one of the prisoners (Wilson) being not in
prison, was, though contrary to the laws, at the desire of a noble
person in great power, bailed out, when a capital indictment was then
found against him. At the trial, neither an Attorney nor
Solicitor-General, nor even one of the King's Council, appeared
against the prisoners. Lastly, when two were convicted, one only was
executed; and I doubt very much whether even he would have suffered,
had it not appeared that a capital indictment for burglary was
likewise found by the Grand Jury against him, and upon such evidence
as I think every impartial man must allow would have convicted him
(had he been tried) for felony at least."
There had been found on Penlez ten lace caps, four laced
handkerchiefs, three pairs of laced ruffles, two laced clouts, five
plain handkerchiefs, five plain aprons, one laced apron, all the
property of the wife of Peter Wood. It was altogether false that
Penlez was married. Fielding says: "I hope I have said enough to prove
that the man who was made an example of deserved his fate. Which, if
he did, I think it will follow that more hath been said and done in
his favour than ought to have been; and that the clamour of severity
against the Government hath been in the highest degree unjustifiable.
To say the truth, it would be more difficult to justify the lenity
used on this occasion."
The case of Bosavern Penlez was the more hard and open to criticism, in
that, in the very same year, there was a serious riot in the Haymarket
Theatre, when the Duke of Cumberland, a prince of the blood, had drawn
his sword, and leaping upon the stage, had called on everybody to follow
him. The people, ripe for mischief, were too loyal to decline a prince's
invitation. The seats were smashed, the scenery torn down, and the
wreckage carried into the street, where a bonfire was made of it; and
but for the timely appearance of the authorities the building itself
would have been added to the fuel. For this, no one was hanged. What
was sauce for the goose was not sauce for the gander.
Reference is made to the case of Bosavern Penlez in Walpole's _Memoirs
of the Last Ten Years of George II_, I, p. 11, and in the _Private
Journal of John Byrom_, published by the Chetham Society, as also in
the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1749.
SAMUEL FOOTE
This dramatic author and player was born at Truro in the year
1721.[17] His father, John Foote, was a magistrate of the county of
Cornwall and commissioner of the Prize office and Fine contract. He
was well descended, deriving from the family of Foote of Trelogorsick,
in Veryan, afterwards of Lambesso, in S. Clements, acquired by bequest
in the reign of Charles II. The arms of the family were, _vert_ a
chevron between three doves _argent_--the doves singularly
inappropriate as the cognizance of Samuel, as that bird was deemed to
be without gall. Bodannan, in S. Enoder, was acquired by the Footes of
Lambesso by purchase. The family did not register its arms and
establish its pedigree at the visitation of the Heralds in 1620, but
that it was gentle admits of no dispute. As no pedigree of the family
has been recorded, it is unknown who was the grandfather of Samuel
Foote, but possibly he may have been the Samuel Foote of Tiverton
whose daughter Elizabeth married, 1691, Dennis Glyn of Cardinham, son
of Nicolas Glyn of Cardinham, M.P. for Bodmin and Sheriff of Cornwall.
Samuel's mother, descended in the female line from the Earls of
Rutland, was daughter of Sir Edward Goodere, Bart., who had two
surviving brothers out of six--Sir John Dinely Goodere, Bart., and
Samuel Goodere, captain of His Majesty's ship _Ruby_. A
disagreement having arisen between the two brothers, Sir John cut off
the entail of his estates and settled them on his sister's family.
This widened the breach, and the brothers had not spoken for years.
[Illustration: S. Foote]