apple-chamber, into which the fowls sometimes found their way, and, in
scratching among the chaff, scattered the dust on the pans of milk
below, to the great annoyance of my mother-in-law. In this a favourite
cock of hers was the chief transgressor. One day in harvest she went
into the dairy, followed by her little dog, and finding dust again
thrown on the milk-pans, she exclaimed, 'I wish that cock were dead!'
Not long after, she being with us in the harvest field, we observed
the little dog dragging along the cock, just killed, which with an air
of triumph he laid at my mother-in-law's feet. She was dreadfully
exasperated at the literal fulfilment of her hastily uttered wish,
and, snatching a stick from the hedge, attempted to give the luckless
dog a beating. The dog, seeing the reception he was likely to meet
with, where he expected marks of approbation, left the bird and ran
off, she brandishing her stick and saying in a loud, angry tone, 'I'll
pay thee for this by and by.' In the evening she was about to put her
threat into execution, when she found the little dog established in a
corner of the room and a large one standing before it. Endeavouring to
fulfil her intention by first driving off the large dog, he gave her
plainly to understand that he was not at all disposed to relinquish
his post. She then sought to get at the small dog behind the other,
but the threatening gesture and fiercer growl of the large one
sufficiently indicated that the attempt would be not a little
perilous. The result was that she was obliged to abandon her design.
In killing the cock I can scarcely think the dog understood the
precise import of my stepmother's wish, as his immediate execution of
it would seem to imply. The cock was a more recent favourite, and had
received some attentions which had been previously bestowed upon
himself. This, I think, had led him to entertain a feeling of
hostility to the bird, which he did not presume to indulge until my
mother's tone and manner indicated that the cock was no longer under
her protection. In the power of communicating with each other which
these dogs evidently possessed, and which, in some instances, has been
displayed by this species of animal, a faculty seems to be developed
of which we know very little. On the whole, I never remember to have
met with a case in which, to human appearance, there was a nearer
approach to moral perception than in that of my father's two dogs."
Samuel Drew remained with his father's family from midsummer, 1782,
till the autumn of the same year, and then took a situation in a
shoemaker's shop at Millbrook, on the Cornish side of the estuary of
the Tamar. After having been there for a year he moved to Cawsand and
then to Crafthole, where he got mixed up in smuggling ventures.
Port Wrinkle, which Crafthole adjoins, lies about the middle of the
extensive bay reaching from Looe Island to the Rame Head. It is little
more than a fissure among the rocks which guard the long line of
coast; and being exposed to the uncontrolled violence of the
prevailing winds, affords a very precarious shelter.
Notice was given through Crafthole one evening, about the month of
December, 1784, that a vessel laden with contraband goods was on the
coast, and would be ready to discharge her cargo. At nightfall Samuel
Drew, with the rest of the male population, made towards the port. One
party remained on the rocks to make signals and dispose of the goods
when landed; the other, of which he was one, manned the boats. The
night was intensely dark; and but little progress had been made in
discharging the vessel's cargo when the wind freshened, with a heavy
sea. To prevent the ship being driven on to the rocks it was found
expedient to stand off from the port; but this greatly increased the
risk to those in the boats. Unfavourable as these circumstances were,
all seemed resolved to persevere; and several trips were made between
the vessel and the shore. The wind continuing to increase, one of the
men in the boat with Drew had his hat blown off, and in leaning over
the gunwale in his attempt to secure it, upset the boat, and three of
the men were drowned. Samuel and two others clung to the keel for a
time, but finding that they were drifting out to sea, they were
constrained to let go and sustain themselves by swimming. But the
night was pitch dark, and immersed in the waters they knew not in
which direction to swim. Samuel had given himself up as lost, when he
laid hold of a tangled mass of floating seaweed, and was able to
sustain himself on that. At length he approached some rocks near the
shore, upon which he and two other men, the only survivors of seven,
managed to crawl; but they were so benumbed with cold and so much
exhausted by their exertions that the utmost they could do was to
cling to the rocks and let the sea wash over them. When a little
recovered, they shouted for help, but the other boatmen were concerned
in transporting their lading of kegs on shore, and not till the vessel
had discharged all her cargo did they make any attempt to rescue the
half-drowned men. Eventually they removed them to a farmhouse, where a
blazing fire was kindled on the hearth and fresh faggots piled on it,
while the half-drowned men, who were placed in a recess of the
chimney, unable to relieve themselves, were compelled to endure the
excessive heat which their companions thought was necessary to restore
animation. The result was that they were half roasted. Samuel Drew
says: "My first sensation was that of extreme cold. It was a long time
before I felt the fire, though its effects are still visible on my
legs, which are burnt in several places. The wounds continued open
more than two years, and the marks I shall carry to my grave."
The death of his elder brother Jabez produced a profound impression on
Samuel, and he became a Methodist.
"For the space of about four or five years I travelled through different
parts of Cornwall, working whenever I could obtain employment; and
during this period, waded through scenes of domestic distress, which can
be interesting only to myself. _Literature_ was a term to which I could
annex no idea. _Grammar_ I knew not the meaning of. An opportunity,
however, now offering one an advance in wages at S. Austell, I embraced
it, and came hither to work with rather an eccentric character. My
master was by trade a saddler, had acquired some knowledge of
book-binding, and hired me to carry on the shoe-making for him. My
master was one of those men who will live anywhere, but get rich
nowhere. His shop was frequented by persons of a more respectable class
than those with whom I had previously associated; and various topics
became alternately the subjects of conversation. I listened with all
that attention which my labour and good manners would permit me, and
obtained among them some little knowledge. About this time disputes ran
high in S. Austell between the Calvinists and Arminians, and our shop
afforded a considerable scene of action. In cases of uncertain issue, I
was sometimes appealed to to decide upon a doubtful point. This,
perhaps, flattering my vanity, became a new stimulus to action. I
listened with attention, examined dictionaries, picked up many words,
and, from an attachment which I felt to books that were occasionally
brought to his shop to bind, I began to have some view of the various
theories with which they abounded. The more, however, I read, the more I
felt my own ignorance; and the more I felt my own ignorance, the more
invincible became my energy to surmount it; and every leisure moment was
now employed in reading one thing or other.... After having worked with
this master about three years, I well recollect, a neighbouring
gentleman brought _Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding_ to be
bound. I had never seen or heard of these books before. I took an
occasion to look into them, when I thought his mode of reasoning very
pretty and his arguments exceedingly strong. I watched all opportunities
of reading for myself, and would willingly have laboured a fortnight to
have had the books. They, however, were soon carried away, and with them
all my future improvement by their means. I never saw his essay again
for many years, yet the early impression was not forgotten, and it is
from this accidental circumstance that I received my first bias for
abstruse subjects.
"My master growing inattentive to his shoe-making trade, many of my
friends advised me to commence business for myself, and offered me
money for that purpose. I accepted the offer, started accordingly,
and by mere dint of application, in about one year discharged my debts
and stood alone. My leisure hours I now employed in reading, or
scribbling anything which happened to pass my mind."
Thus he went on till 1798, when he laid the foundation of an _Essay on
the Immortality of the Soul_. Whilst engaged upon this he had T.
Paine's _Age of Reason_ put into his hands. He read it, but saw the
fallacy of many of his arguments, and he wrote his remarks on the
book, and published them in pamphlet form at S. Austell in 1799.
Through this tract he obtained acquaintance with the Rev. John
Whitaker, to whom he showed his MS. on _The Immortality of the Soul_,
and was encouraged to revise, continue, and complete the essay, and it
was published in November, 1802.
"During these literary pursuits I regularly and constantly attended on
my business, and do not recollect that ever one customer has been
disappointed by me through these means. While attending to my trade, I
sometimes catch the fibres of an argument, which I endeavour to note
the prominent features of, and keep a pen and ink by me for the
purpose. In this state, what I can collect through the day remains on
any paper which I have at hand till the business of the day is
dispatched and my shop shut up, when, in the midst of my family, I
endeavour to analyze, in the evening, such thoughts as had crossed my
mind during the day."
At one time the bent of Drew's mind was towards astronomy, but when he
considered how impossible it was for him, without means, to purchase a
powerful telescope, to make any progress in the study of the stars, he
abandoned the thought and devoted himself to metaphysics--perhaps one
of the most unprofitable of all studies. His works were, however,
read by some when they issued from the press, and are now no longer
even looked into.
A friend one day remarked to him, "Mr. Drew, more than once I have
heard you quote the line--
'Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.'
How do you make that out?"
"I will tell you by my own experience," replied Drew. "When I began
business I was a great politician. For the first year I had too much
to think about to indulge my propensity for politics; but, getting a
little ahead in the world, I began to dip into these matters again,
and entered into newspaper argument as if my livelihood depended on
it; my shop was filled with loungers, who came to canvass public
measures. This encroached on my time, and I found it necessary
sometimes to work till midnight to make up for the hours I lost. One
night, after my shutters were closed, and I was busily employed, some
little urchin who was passing put his mouth to the keyhole of the
door, and with a shrill pipe called out, 'Shoemaker! Shoemaker! Work
by night and run about by day!' Had a pistol been fired off at my ear
I could not have been more confounded. From that time I turned over a
new leaf. I ceased to venture on the restless sea of politics, or
trouble myself about matters which did not concern me. The bliss of
ignorance on political topics I often experienced in after life--the
folly of being wise my early history shows."
His sister kept house for him. One market-day a country-woman entered
his shop, and having completed her purchases, remarked that she
thought he would be more comfortable if he had a wife. Drew assented,
but said, "I don't know any one who would have me." "Oh! that's easily
settled," said the woman, and left. Next market-day she returned,
bringing her buxom, apple-cheeked daughter with her. "There, Mr.
Drew," said she; "I brought this maid, who will make 'ee a good wife."
Samuel demurred; he neither knew the family nor the qualities and
character of the wench.
"Lor' bless 'ee!" said the woman, when he made these objections, "take
her. The trial of the pudding is in the eating."
He declined the proposal, however; but this incident turned his mind
to matrimony, and on April 17th, 1791, when in his twenty-seventh
year, he married Honor Halls, and by her had five sons and three
daughters. His wife's immediate fortune was £10, a sum of great
importance at that time to him. Three years after it was increased by
a legacy of £50.
Having made a certain amount of success with his _Essay on the
Immortality of the Soul_, Drew next undertook one on _The Identity and
Resurrection of the Human Body_, and this was published in 1809.
Into a controversy he was engaged in with Mr. Polwhele in 1800 on
Methodism we need not enter, but it made no breach of friendly feeling
between Mr. Polwhele and him, and it was at the request of the former
that Drew wrote the little account of his life that appeared in
Polwhele's _Literary Characters_, 1803.
Having experienced his own great difficulties in acquiring the
principles of the English grammar, in 1804 he gave a course of
lectures on that subject. These lectures, which occupied about two
hours, were delivered on four evenings of the week, two being allotted
to each sex separately. A year completed the course of instruction,
and for this each pupil paid thirty shillings. He was able to
illustrate his lectures very happily with anecdote and from his own
experience, so as to render the barren study of grammar interesting
and entertaining. Though never able to write first-class English, and
often clumsy in diction, yet he was studiously correct in grammar, if
often awkward in construction of a sentence.
In the year 1805 he gave up his cobbling business and devoted himself
entirely to his pen. Seeing his value as a polemic writer in favour of
the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, several of the clergy of
Cornwall were anxious that he should join the Church; but his early
association with Dissent, and his ignorance of Catholic doctrine,
induced him to remain where he was in the Methodist Connection.
He next wrote an _Essay on the Being and Attributes of the Deity_, and
a reply to Thomas Prout, _On the Divinity of Christ and the Eternal
Sonship_. All this was very well in its way at the time, but is now so
much waste paper, used only for covering jampots.
In 1814 Samuel Drew undertook his most voluminous work, the _History
of Cornwall_, one which he was wholly unqualified to undertake, as he
had no familiarity with the MS. material on which that history should
be based; and it was a mere compilation from already printed matter.
In 1819 Samuel Drew removed to Liverpool, where he acted as local
preacher in the Methodist meeting-houses. To this period belongs the
epigram written on him by Dr. Clarke:--
Long was the man, and long was his hair,
And long was the coat which this long man did wear.
He became editor of the _Imperial Magazine_, and after a short while
in Liverpool, migrated to London.
In 1828 he lost his wife. "When my wife died," he was wont to say, "my
earthly sun set for ever."
In 1833 he returned to Cornwall, and died at Helston on March 29th, at
the age of sixty-eight.
Slender in form, with a head remarkably small for the length of his
limbs, his stature exceeded the common height. He had a searching and
intelligent eye, was somewhat uncouth in his movements, but was full
of energy of mind and body. He sometimes wrote verses, which only a
very partial biographer would call poetry. But what he prided himself
on being was not a poet, but a metaphysician.
The story goes that S. Augustine was walking one day by the seashore,
musing on the attributes of God and on the demonstration of the Divine
nature, when he saw a child digging a hole in the sand, and then with
a fan-shell ladling the sea-water into the hole it had made.
S. Augustine paused and asked, "My child, what are you about?"
"I am going to empty the sea into this hole," replied the child.
Then S. Augustine entered into himself and thought: "Can a man with
the limited capacity of his brain embrace the infinity of the Divine
nature and perfections? Is it not like emptying the sea into a tiny
hole to try to effect this?"
Drew's life labours were just doing this. There was a certain amount
of intellectual ingenuity in his arguments, but that was all. Not a
leaf that he wrote is of any permanent value, but that it was of value
at the time when he wrote I should be the last to deny.
There is abundant material for a life of Samuel Drew. Not only may it
be found in the life by his son mentioned at the head of this article,
and in his own biographical memoir given by R. Polwhele, but his son
J. H. Drew also published a second memoir, under the title _Samuel
Drew, M. A., the Self-Taught Cornishman; A Life Lesson_, published in
1861; also in _Lives of the Illustrious_, by J. P. Edwards, 1852; and
Mr. Smiles has devoted some pages to him in _Self-Help_, 1866. The
portrait of Samuel Drew is given as frontispiece to the first volume
of _The Imperial Magazine_, 1819, and also to the _Life_ by his son.
FOOTNOTE:
[25] Samuel Drew says at the age of five, but this was a slip of his
pen or a mistake of the printer; his mother died in 1774.
THE SIEGE OF SKEWIS
Skewis is a small, not very interesting farmhouse in itself, on the
high road from Camborne to Helston, near the station of Nancegollan.
Although at a distance of five miles from Tregonning Hill, that height
crowned by a stone camp, and with two camps on its slopes, seems to
dominate it. The country around is bleak and treeless except in dips,
and where are the grounds of Clowance. To the north is the camp of
Tregeare, where was once seated an ancient family of the same name,
which died out in the reign of William of Orange with Richard
Tregeare, sheriff of Cornwall. Skewis had been for some time the
patrimony of a succession of yeoman proprietors of the name of Rogers.
In 1734 there were two brothers of that name sons of the owner of
Skewis. On their father's death the eldest succeeded to the property,
and the younger, Henry, carried on the trade of pewterer in Helston.
Both were married, but the elder had no children, whereas Henry had
several.
On the death of the elder brother, his widow, whose maiden name had
been Millett, produced a will whereby her late husband had bequeathed
all his freehold property to her. This greatly exasperated Henry, who
considered that as Skewis had belonged to the Rogers family for many
generations, he was entitled to it, and he averred that the will had
been wrung from his dying brother by the importunity of the wife when
he was feeble in mind as well as body. Forthwith, in place of
disputing the will when proved, he took forcible possession of the
house, and turned out of it some female servants left in charge of it
whilst his sister-in-law was from home.
[Illustration: HENRY ROGERS: PEWTERER]
The whole neighbourhood was satisfied that great wrong had been done
to Henry Rogers, and was loud in its condemnation of the widow.
When Mrs. Rogers found herself forcibly dispossessed she appealed to
the law, and judgment was given against Henry.
Stephen Tillie was under-sheriff, and he received orders to eject
Rogers, and place Anne, the widow, in possession. On June 18th, 1734, he
accordingly went to Skewis to serve the summons. But Henry stood at an
upper window armed with a gun, and dared the under-sheriff to approach.
Tillie shouted to him that he had the King's writ and must have
possession, but assured him that he would not meddle with his person.
By this time a crowd of some two or three hundred persons had
assembled, all sympathizers with Henry Rogers, and murmuring their
disapproval of the ejectment.
Henry, from his window, called out that the Lord Chancellor had made
an unjust decree.
Tillie replied that Henry Rogers might appeal against the decision,
but surrender the house he must.
Rogers, in reply, fired, and, as the under-sheriff stated, "burned his
wig and singed his face."
This so frightened Tillie that he withdrew, and sent to Helston for
some soldiers; and Captain Sadler, then in charge of the military
there, despatched some to his aid.
So reinforced, on the morrow Tillie went again to Skewis, and found
the door shut, and a hole cut in it, with a gun-barrel protruding.
Again the under-sheriff demanded admittance, and for reply the gun was
fired, and a bailiff named William Carpenter was mortally wounded.
Another gun was then discharged, and Hatch, the under-sheriff's servant,
was struck. Anne Rogers, the plaintiff, was in the rear animating the
soldiers against the occupants of the house. Mrs. Henry Rogers was
within, loading and serving out the guns to her husband and to his
servant John Street. A soldier was shot in the groin, and two other men
were wounded. Thereupon the soldiers fired upon the house, and though
the bullets flew in at the window, none of those within were hurt.
Woolsten, the soldier shot in the groin, was taken to the rear, where he
died. A bullet whizzed through Stephen Tillie's hat. Discretion is the
better part of valour. Accordingly the under-sheriff gave orders to beat
a retreat, and like the King of France's men who marched up a hill and
then marched down again, Tillie and his posse of bailiffs and military
retired from the battlefield, carrying their dead and wounded, without
having effected an entry. In a kindly spirit Rogers offered Tillie a
dram, but the under-sheriff's courage was too much quailed to allow him
to draw near enough to accept the hospitable offer.
Indeed, it took Mr. Tillie nine months to gather up sufficient courage
to resume the attack, and then not till he had ordered up cannon from
Pendennis Castle. On the former occasion there had been at least ten
soldiers under the command of an officer. Within the house were only
Henry Rogers, his wife, his small children, and his servant-man.
On March 16th, in the year following, another party was sent to
apprehend Rogers and take possession of the house. On this occasion,
apparently Mr. Stephen Tillie did not put in his appearance, but left
the duty to be discharged by the constables. Henry Rogers was prepared
for them, and fired, when one named Andrew Willis, alias Tubby, was
shot dead. Rogers then, with the utmost coolness, came out of the door
and walked round the man he had shot, and again on this occasion
offered the besiegers a drink. The besiegers then retired, but not
till a second man had been shot.
During the night Henry Rogers effected his escape. He travelled on foot
to Salisbury, with the intention of making his case known to the King.
Sir John S. Aubyn, of Clowance, now took an active part in
endeavouring to secure the fugitive, and handbills descriptive of
Rogers were circulated along the road to London, whither it was known
he was making his way. Near Salisbury a postboy, driving homewards a
return post-chaise, was accosted by a stout man walking with a gun in
his hand, who requested to be given a lift. The boy drove him to the
inn, where he procured a bed; but the circumstances and description
had excited strong suspicion, and he was secured in his sleep. The
prisoner was removed to Cornwall. He and his man Street were tried at
the assizes at Launceston on August 1st, 1735, were both found guilty
of murder, and were both hanged.
It is not possible to withhold sympathy from both men, especially
Street, who acted on the belief that it was his duty to be true to his
master, and to defend him and his property to the utmost.
Mr. Davies Gilbert gives the minutes of an interesting conversation he
had with the son of Henry Rogers who was hanged.
"On the 30th October, 1812, I called on Mr. Henry Rogers, formerly a
saddler at Penzance, but then residing there in great poverty, being
supported by a small allowance from a club, and by half a crown a week
given him by the Corporation, nominally for yielding up the possession
of a house, but in truth to prevent his becoming a common pauper.
"Mr. Henry Rogers was then eighty-four years of age and remembered the
unfortunate transactions at Skewis perfectly well; he was between
seven and eight years old at the time. He recollected going out with
his father into the court after there had been some firing. His father
had a gun in his hand, and inquired what they wanted. On this his
father was fired at, and had a snuff-box and powder-horn broken in his
pocket by a ball, whilst he stood on the other side.
"He recollected that whilst he was in bed, several balls came in
through the windows of the room, and after striking the wall rolled
about on the floor.
"One brother and a sister, who were in the house, went out to inquire
what was wanted of their father, and they were not permitted to return.
"On the last night, no one remained in the house but his father,
himself, and the servant-maid. In the middle of the night they all
went out, and got some distance from the house. In crossing a field,
however, they were met by two soldiers, who inquired their business.
The maid answered that they were looking for a cow, when they were
permitted to proceed. The soldiers had their arms, and his father had
his gun. The maid and himself were left at a farmhouse in the
neighbourhood, and Mr. Rogers proceeded on his way towards London."
The authorities for the story of the siege of Skewis are: Richard
Hooker's _Weekly Miscellany_, 9 August, 1735; George Harris's _Life of
Lord Chancellor Hardwick_, I, pp. 295-303; Caulfield's _Portraits of
Remarkable Persons_, 1813; and Davies Gilbert's _Parochial History of
Cornwall_.
THE VOYAGE OF JOHN SANDS
Lanarth, in the parish of S. Keverne, in the Lizard district, was for
many generations the residence of the family of Sands. The family was
not represented at the Heralds' Visitation of 1620, and did not record
its arms and pedigree, but was nevertheless regarded in the eighteenth
century as "gentle," and was united to other families of respectability.
Sampson Sands, who died in 1696, was married to Jane, daughter of John
Coode, of Breage, but he died without issue and left his estate to his
brother's son, John Sands, married to a daughter of Hamley, of S. Neot.