King Charles I and the principal officers and nobilitie of his court,
at a dinner at his house in London, at which tyme the arch poet Ben
Jonson, and others being at an inne, on the other side the street;
and wantinge both meate and money for their subsistance, at that
exigent resolved to trye an expedient, to gett his dinner from the
Attorney-General's table, in order to which, by the landlord of the
inne aforesaid, he sent a white timber plate or trencher to him, when
the King was sate downe to table, whereon was inscribed these words:--
When the world was drown'd
Nor deer was found,
Because there was noe park;
And here I sitt,
Without e're a bitt,
Cause Noah hath all in his Arke.
Which plate beinge presented by the Attorney-Generall to the Kinge,
produced this effect; that Jonson had a good dish of venison sent him
back by the bearer to his great content and satisfaction, on which
aforesaid plate, by the King's direction, Jonson's rhymes were thus
inverted or contradicted:--
When the world was drown'd
There deer was found,
Although there was noe park;
I send thee a bitt,
To quicken thy witt,
Which com' from Noya's Ark.
William Noye anagram, I Moyle in law. He was the blowcoal incendiary
or stirrer up of the occasion of the civill wars between Kinge Charles
and his Parliament, by assertinge and setting up the King's
prerogative to the highest pitch, as King James I had done before,
beyond the laws of the land as aforesaid. And as counsill for the
Kinge he prosecuted for Kinge Charles I the imprisoned members of the
House of Commons, 1628, viz. Sir John Ellyot, Mr. Coryton and others."
Noye died in 1638. Hals adds: "He had the principal hand in the most
oppressive expedients for raising money for the King, and seems not to
have had the least notion of public spirit. He was, in a word, a man
of an enlarged head and a contracted heart."
His portrait, formerly possessed by Davies Gilbert,[22] has been
engraved in Polwhele's _Biographical Sketches in Cornwall_. The eldest
son, Edward, was killed in a duel by Captain Byron in France in 1636,
and then Carnanton passed to his brother Humphrey, a colonel in King
Charles' army, and Commissioner of the Peace for the County of
Cornwall. He married Hester, daughter of Henry Sandys, and sister and
coheiress of George Lord Sandys of the Vine. He was as worthless a
fellow as his elder brother Edward, and William Noye, the father,
foresaw the ruin of the family estates to whichever of his sons they
fell; for, in default of male issue, they were to go to Humphrey Noye,
not Edward as Howell states. Humphrey by his bad conduct, riot and
excess, lost all the estate left him by his father except Carnanton,
and for many years lived on the charity of his friends and on
dishonest tricks; for being a magistrate and generally chairman at the
sessions, he took bribes to pervert judgment; acquitting felons, etc.,
till at last he was detected and struck out of the Commission. Hals
says: "After which growinge scandalous for these and other
misdemeanours, he was slighted by his former friends, and put to great
hardships to get a subsistance necessary for the life of man (his
creditors beinge upon mortgages in possession of his whole estate).
However, it happened some time before his death, that upon puttinge
his hand and seale with his creditors for conveying the manor of Amell
and Trylly in Penwith to his son-in-lawe, Mr. Davies, on marrying
with his daughter Katherine, he had by them pay'd him in cash £100 in
consideration thereof. Soon after the receipt of which money he
sicken'd and dyed at Thomas Wills' house in S. Colomb Towne, and left
£80 in cash, about the yeare 1683; which was more money than he was
possest of at one tyme for about twenty yeares before; and the last
words that he was heard to speake, as his soule passed out of this
life, was: 'Lord, where am I goinge now?'"
Humphrey Noye had two sons, but both predeceased him and died without
issue. His daughter Hester married Henry Davies, of Buryan, and had by
him a son, William, who left issue two daughters only.
Catherine, the second daughter, married in 1679 William Davies, of
Bosworgy, who by her left issue John Davies of Ednovean, whose
daughter Catherine married the Rev. Edward Giddy, whose son Davies
Giddy assumed the name and arms of Gilbert.
The third daughter, Bridgeman, married John Willyams, of Roxworthy,
but died childless. After her death Willyams married Dorothy, daughter
of Peter Daye, gent., and by her had issue, and the family of Willyams
to this day possesses Carnanton.
The arms of Noye are _azure_, three crosses crosslets, in bend,
_argent_.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] _Familiar Letters_, ed. 1678, p. 233.
[21] _Familiar Letters_, p. 239. It is wrongly dated, June, 1634, in
place of 1636. The dates to the letters were in many cases arbitrarily
assigned by the publisher.
[22] Now by Carew Davies Gilbert, Esq., of Trelisseck.
WILLIAM LEMON
William Lemon was the son of a William Lemon, of Germoe, in humble
circumstances; he was baptized at Breage, 15th November, 1696; his
mother's maiden name was Rodda. As a lad he obtained a smattering of
knowledge at a village school, sufficient to enable him to enter an
office as clerk to a Mr. Coster. The story was told of him that as a
boy he had formed one link of a living chain, which, connected only by
the grasp of their hands, extended itself into a tremendous surf, and
rescued several persons who had been shipwrecked.
Whilst still young he became manager of a tin-smelting house at
Chiandower, near Penzance, and speedily acquired a great knowledge of
mining in Cornwall. In 1724 he married Isabella Vibert, of
Tolver-in-Gulval, and with her received a sufficient fortune[23] to
enable him to indulge in speculations in mines, and these turned out
so happily that he embarked still further in mining ventures. He was
the first who conceived the project of working the mines upon a grand
scale, and not of running them by small bands of adventurers. A new
era in mining opened with the introduction of the steam-pump, and the
first, invented by Newcomen, of Dartmouth, was used in the Great Work
at Breage. William Lemon associated with himself George Blewett, of
Marazion, and a Mr. Dewin, and these three commenced working a mine on
a farm called Truvel, in Ludgvan, the property of Lord Godolphin, and
named Wheal Fortune, where the second steam-engine was employed.
[Illustration: _Engraved by J M Meys_
_To Sir William Lemon Bart. M.P. for Cornwalle_
_This Plate of his_ Grand-Father
William Lemon Esq^r.
is inscribed by R. POLWHELE]
Mr. Lemon is said to have realized £10,000 out of Wheal Fortune, and
this enabled him to extend his operations. He removed to Truro, and
commenced working the great Gwennap Mines on a scale unprecedented in
Cornwall. Carnan Adit was either actually commenced, or at least was
effectively prosecuted, by Mr. Lemon; and as his means increased he
soon became the principal merchant and tin-smelter in Cornwall.
But he was keenly alive to his deficient education. He was shrewd,
could calculate, but had no knowledge of English literature, and his
spelling was remarkable. However, he set vigorously to work to correct
his defects, and late in life placed himself under the tuition of Mr.
Conon, master of the Truro Grammar School, and even acquired a
certain--not, certainly, very extensive--knowledge of Latin.
Mr. Lemon had a favourite tame Cornish chough that would always obey
his call. If he were walking on Truro Green, or through the streets,
the chough would fly to him instantly at his whistle, though it had
been associating with other birds or perched on a house-top.
It so happened that John Thomas, afterwards the Warden of the
Stannaries, but then a boy at Conon's school, taking his gun, contrary
to the rules of the school, and going out shooting, unluckily killed the
chough. This produced a great outcry, and when he was told that this was
Mr. Lemon's favourite bird, he strongly suspected that the least
punishment he would receive would be a flogging from his schoolmaster
and a hiding as well from Mr. Lemon. But Thomas took courage, went to
Mr. Lemon's house, knocked at the door, was admitted to Mr. Lemon, and
trembling and in tears confessed what he had done. Mr. Lemon paused a
moment, and then said that he was sorry for the poor bird, but freely
forgave the little delinquent on account of his candour in acknowledging
his fault, and more than that, he promised to keep it a secret, and if
it should reach Conon's ears, would intercede for him.
In 1742 he was Sheriff for the county. He became one of the Truro
magistrates, and might, had he cared for it, have been elected as a
member for one or other of the Cornish boroughs.
He was author of a lucid argument written to Sir Robert Walpole to
obtain the withdrawal of a tax levied on coals, and which acted
prejudicially on the Cornish mines. The presentation of this memorial
is thought to have been instrumental in obtaining for him, from
Frederick, Prince of Wales, a grant of all minerals found in Cornwall,
with the exception of tin; and the Prince likewise sent him a present
of silver plate.
He bought Carclew in 1749, and died at Truro, 25th March, 1760, in the
sixty-third year of his life.
He and his wife had one son only, William Lemon, junior, who died some
years before his father, leaving two sons and a daughter. The elder,
Sir William Lemon, Bart.,[24] represented the county of Cornwall in
Parliament during fifty years.
As an instance of the respect paid to the genius, and above all the
wealth of Mr. Lemon, the people of Truro are said to have drawn back
from their doors and windows as he passed through the street, and the
Rev. Samuel Walker, when exhorting children at catechizing to be
circumspect in the presence of Almighty God, said: "Only think, dear
children, how careful you would be if Mr. Lemon were looking upon you."
Sir William's eldest son, Major William Lemon, shot himself at Princes
Street, Hanover Square, London, early in 1799, when a young man of
only twenty-five.
The baronetcy is now extinct, and Carclew is the residence and
property of Captain W. Tremayne.
FOOTNOTES:
[23] It came to her by bequest of her godmother, Mrs. Elizabeth Noles,
who had acquired a fortune by business at Chiandower.
[24] Created Baronet 3rd May, 1774.
SAMUEL DREW
The life of Samuel Drew was written by his eldest son, and published
by Longman, Rees, and Co. in 1834. It is a volume of 534 pages, and
probably few would be disposed to wade through it. Of his early days
by far the brighter account is that furnished by himself to Mr. R.
Polwhele; but the son supplies some anecdotes that may be quoted.
"I was born on the 3rd March, 1765, in an obscure cottage in the
parish of S. Austell, about a mile and a half distant from the town.
My father was a common labourer, and had through mere dint of manual
labour to provide for himself, a wife, and four children, of whom I
was the second. One child died in infancy, and at the age of nine
years[25] I had the misfortune to lose my mother." Rather more than a
year before the death of Mrs. Drew, Samuel was set to work at a
neighbouring stamping-mill as a _buddle-boy_, and for his services his
father received three-halfpence a day, but this was raised later to
twopence, the largest sum Samuel realized in that employment, though
he continued to work at it for more than two years.
[Illustration: SAMUEL DREW]
Not long after the death of his wife, Samuel's father took a woman named
Bate into the house, to act as housekeeper; and in the second year of
his widowhood he married her, to the disgust of his children. When
she was entertaining her friends and gossips at tea after the wedding,
Samuel discharged a syringeful of water over the party. This was more
than she could put up with, and Samuel had to be sent away and
apprenticed to a shoemaker named Baker, in the parish of S. Blazey.
He says himself: "My father, being exceedingly poor, felt much
embarrassment in finding a premium to give to my master, with whom, at
the age of ten years and a half, I was bound an apprentice for nine
years, which length of time, together with five pounds five shillings,
was considered by my master as a suitable bargain. It was at this tender
age that I bid adieu to my father's habitation, and as a place of
residence have never entered it since. The little knowledge of writing
which I had acquired from my father was almost entirely lost during my
apprenticeship; I had, however, an opportunity at intervals of perusing
Goadby's _Weekly Entertainer_, and used to puzzle my little head about
riddles and enigmas, and felt much pleasure in perusing the anecdotes
which were occasionally interspersed through the pages."
Whilst at the shoemaker's a curious incident occurred: "There were
several of us, boys and men, out about twelve o'clock on a bright
moonlight night. I think we were poaching. The party were in a field
adjoining the road leading from my master's to S. Austell, and I was
stationed outside the hedge to watch and give the alarm if any
intruder should appear. While thus occupied I heard what appeared to
be the sound of a horse approaching from the town, and I gave a
signal. My companions paused and came to the hedge where I was, to see
the passenger. They looked through the bushes, and I drew myself close
to the hedge, that I might not be observed. The sound increased, and
the supposed horseman seemed drawing near. The clatter of the hoofs
became more and more distinct. We all looked to see who and what it
was, and I was seized with a strange, indefinable feeling of dread;
when, instead of a horse, there appeared coming towards us, at an easy
pace, but with the same sound which first caught my ear, a creature
about the height of a large dog. It went close by me, and as it
passed, it turned upon me and my companions huge fiery eyes that
struck terror to all our hearts. The road where I stood branched off
in two directions, in one of which there was a gate across. Towards
the gate it moved, and, without any apparent obstruction, went on at
its regular trot, which we heard several minutes after it had
disappeared. Whatever it was, it put an end to our occupation, and we
made the best of our way home.
"I have often endeavoured in later years, but without success, to
account, on natural principles, for what I then heard and saw. As to the
facts, I am sure there was no deception. It was a night of unusual
brightness, occasioned by a cloudless full moon. The creature was unlike
any animal I had then seen, but from my present recollections it had
much the appearance of a bear, with a dark shaggy coat. Had it not been
for the unearthly lustre of its eyes, and its passing through the gate
as it did, there would be no reason to suppose it anything more than an
animal perhaps escaped from some menagerie. That it did pass through the
gate without pause or hesitation I am perfectly clear. Indeed, we all
saw it, and saw that the gate was shut, from which we were not distant
more than twenty or thirty yards. The bars were too close to admit the
passage of an animal of half its apparent bulk; yet this creature went
through without effort or variation of its pace."
He was roughly and cruelly treated by his master, who would beat him
with the last, and at one time for a while maimed him. At length he
felt that he could endure the bondage no more, and with sixteen-pence
ha'penny in his pocket he ran away with the intention of going to
Plymouth and seeking a berth on board a man-of-war.
At this time Sam's father was in somewhat better circumstances. He was
chiefly employed in what was called _riding Sherborne_. There was at
that time scarcely a bookseller in Cornwall; and the only newspaper
known among the common people was the _Sherborne Mercury_, published
weekly by Goadby and Co., who also issued the _Weekly Entertainer_.
The papers were not sent by post, but by private messengers, who were
termed _Sherborne men_. Drew, senior, was one of these. Between
Plymouth and Penzance were two stages on the main road, each about
forty miles; and there were branch riders, in different directions,
who held regular communication with each other and with the
establishment at Sherborne. Their business was to deliver the
newspapers, _Entertainers_, and any books that had been ordered, to
collect the money, and to take fresh orders. Mr. Drew's stage was from
S. Austell to Plymouth. He always set off on his journey early on
Monday morning and returned on Wednesday.
When Samuel Drew had made up his mind to run away, he did not choose
the direct road for fear of encountering his father, but took that by
Liskeard.
"I went on through the night, and feeling fatigued, went into a
hay-field and slept. My luggage was no encumbrance; as the whole of my
property, besides the clothes I wore, was contained in a small
handkerchief. Not knowing how long I should have to depend on my
slender stock of cash, I found it necessary to use the most rigid
economy. Having to pass over either a ferry or toll-bridge, for which
I had to pay a halfpenny, feeling my present situation, and knowing
nothing of my future prospects, this small call upon my funds
distressed me, I wept as I went on my way. The exertion of walking and
the fresh morning air gave me a keener appetite than I thought it
prudent to indulge. I, however, bought a penny loaf, and with a
halfpenny-worth of milk in a farmer's house ate half of my loaf for
breakfast. In passing through Liskeard my attention was attracted by a
shoemaker's shop, in the door of which a respectable-looking man, whom
I supposed to be the master, was standing. Without any intention of
seeking employment in this place, I asked him if he could give me
work; and he, taking compassion, I suppose, on my sorry appearance,
promised to employ me the next morning. Before I could go to work
tools were necessary; and I was obliged to lay out a shilling on
these. Dinner, under such circumstances, was out of the question; for
supper I bought another halfpenny-worth of milk, ate the remainder of
my loaf, and for a lodging again had recourse to the fields. The next
morning I purchased another penny loaf and renewed my labour. My
employer soon found that I was a miserable tool, yet he treated me
kindly. I had now but one penny left, and this I wished to husband
till my labour brought a supply; so for dinner I tied my apron-strings
tighter and went on with my work. My abstinence subjected me to the
jeers of my shopmates. One of them said to another, 'Where does our
shopmate dine?' and the response was, 'Oh! he always dines at the sign
of the Mouth.' Half of the penny loaf which I took with me in the
morning I had allotted for my supper; but before night came I had
pinched it nearly all away in mouthfuls through mere hunger. Very
reluctantly I laid out my last penny, and with no enviable feelings
sought my former lodging in the open air."
But on the following day Samuel's father, having learned where he was,
came to remove him and take him back to S. Austell. Compensation was
made to Baker, his indenture was cancelled, and he remained at Polpea,
where Mr. Drew now had a little farm, for about four months.
Drew, the father, not only was occupied as a Sherborne rider, but he was
also a contractor for carrying the mail between S. Austell and Bodmin,
and he chiefly employed his eldest son, Jabez, in carrying the mails.
"At one time in the depth of winter I was borrowed to supply my
brother's place, and I had to travel in the darkness of night through
frost and snow a dreary journey, out and home, of more than twenty
miles. Being overpowered with fatigue, I fell asleep on the horse's
neck, and when I awoke discovered that I had lost my hat. The wind was
keen and piercing, and I was bitterly cold. I stopped the horse and
endeavoured to find out where I was; but it was so dark that I could
scarcely distinguish the hedges on each side of the road, and I had no
means of ascertaining how long I had been asleep or how far I had
travelled. I then dismounted and looked around for my hat; but seeing
nothing of it, I turned back, leading the horse, determined to find it
if possible; for the loss of a hat was to me of serious consequence.
Shivering with cold, I pursued my solitary way, scrutinizing the road
at every step, until I had walked about two miles, and was on the
point of giving up the search, when I came to a receiving house, where
I ought to have delivered a packet of letters, but had passed it when
asleep. To this place the post usually came about one o'clock in the
morning, and it was customary to leave a window unfastened, except by
a large stone outside, that the family might not be disturbed at so
unseasonable an hour. I immediately put the letter-bag through the
window, and having replaced the stone, was turning round to my horse,
when I perceived my hat lying close to my feet. I suppose that the
horse, knowing the place, must have stopped at the window for me to
deliver my charge; but having waited until his patience was exhausted,
had pursued his way to the next place. My hat must have been shaken
off by his impatient movements."
The remarkable thing about this incident is that the horse was quite
blind, yet it could go its accustomed road, and stop at accustomed
places, without seeing. By all the family this sagacious animal was
much prized, but Samuel's father felt for it a special regard; and the
attachment between the master and his faithful servant was, to all
appearance, mutual. Many years before, the poor beast, in a wretched
condition from starvation and ill-usage, had been turned out on a
common to die. The owner willingly sold it for little more than the
value of the hide; and his new possessor, having by care and kindness
restored it to health and strength, soon found that he had made a most
advantageous bargain. For more than twenty years he and his blind
companion travelled the road together. After the horse was past labour
it was kept in the orchard and tended with almost parental care.
Latterly it became unable to bite the grass, and the old man regularly
fed it with bread sopped in milk. In the morning it would put its head
over the orchard railing, towards its master's bedroom, and give its
accustomed neigh, whereupon old Mr. Drew would jump out of bed, open
the window, and call to the horse, "My poor old fellow, I will be
with thee soon." And when the animal died, he would not allow the skin
or shoes to be taken off, but had the carcase buried entire.
Samuel tells another story of instinct in brute beasts:--