thought, the more he saw that the only mode of bringing his alum mines
into operation was by kidnapping some of the Pope's workmen, a
difficult and perilous task, but which he resolved to attempt, and
with that view went again to Italy. Of course the best place for
accomplishing his object was at Civita Vecchia, a seaport in the Papal
States. Thither, therefore, he went, and lived in retirement, eluding
observation as far as possible, but mingling, whenever he could, with
the alum workers, ingratiating himself with them by means of wine,
friendly and familiar converse, and the judicious distribution of
money. By these means he became acquainted with their characters, and
with their hopes and aspirations. Three of the more intelligent he
singled out to work upon, but each one separately. He would take them
into a wine-house and ply them well with the tongue-loosener, and then
turn the conversation upon their occupation and future prospects. Of
the three, one seemed to have some influence over the other two, who,
to a certain extent, took their opinions from him, and re-echoed his
sentiments; and Sir Thomas shrewdly perceived that if he could win
over this one, the others would follow, like sheep after the
bell-wether. They were seated in a wine shop one day, talking over the
alum workers' great grievance. "And so," said Sir Thomas, "you would
really like to escape from this life of slavery?" "I should, indeed,"
was the reply; "work here is neither better nor worse than that of a
galley-slave." "Why not escape, then, and fling off the chains that
gall you?" "Alas, sir," he replied, "we are too closely guarded and
watched to render escape at all hopeful. Besides, money would be
required, and of this we have but sufficient to get our daily bread."
"But if anyone were to put the means of escape in your hands, would
you be sufficiently daring to make the attempt?" "Most certainly."
"And you would not fear the Pope's excommunication, which would
assuredly follow?" "Look here, signor, although I am a poor ignorant
alum worker, I know something of what has been doing in England and
Germany, and have heard of Wickcliffe, Luther, and Calvin, and I
should care no more for excommunication at the hands of the Pope than
I should for a snap of his fingers."
Chaloner saw he had got hold of the right man, and he gradually
revealed to him his discovery of alum earth in England, and proposed
that he should accompany him thither to work it, where he would be
absolutely free, and promising him a much higher remuneration than he
was receiving in Italy; to which the man readily assented, and
undertook to gain over the other two men, who he felt assured would
accompany him. At a subsequent meeting of the four confederates the
question was discussed as to the best mode of smuggling them out of
Italy, and, after several projects had been suggested and dismissed as
impracticable, it was decided that they should be conveyed on board a
vessel in casks, as merchandise, and liberated when out at sea.
Sir Thomas at once set to work to find means for carrying out his
project, the first being to find a vessel captained by one equally
resolute with himself, and to whom he could venture to entrust his
secret. Fortunately for his purpose, there chanced to be lying in the
harbour a ship from the port of Hull, commanded by an honest
fellow-Yorkshireman, a man who, as he said himself, "feared neither
the Pope nor the Devil." With this captain he sought an interview,
explained who he was, and by careful steps laid his scheme before him.
The rough, weather-beaten old captain grasped him by the hand, and,
giving it a vigorous shake, swore to stand by him "through thick and
thin." He was waiting for a return cargo, had got his vessel half
filled, and he agreed, whether full or not, to set sail on that day
week. Sir Thomas then went into the market and purchased a quantity of
grain, to be delivered on board in six days, packed in casks. He then
caused three casks to be constructed secretly, with false ends to be
filled with grain, leaving the central part open and pierced with
holes, in great number, but so small as to be scarcely perceptible. On
the sixth day, when the alum works were closed, the three men came to
him, and were placed in the three casks, which, having passed the
ordeal of the Customs Office without suspicion, were shipped, and at
daybreak the following morning the vessel was loosed from her
moorings, spread her canvas, and bade adieu to Civita Vecchia. It was
soon discovered at the alum works that the three were missing, and
strict search was made for them, without result. At length it occurred
to the authorities that they had escaped in the English vessel which
had sailed that morning, and three ships were sent in pursuit of her,
but she had several hours' start, and had a fair wind, and the
pursuers never caught sight of her. The men were released from their
uncomfortable berths when at a safe distance, and revelled in their
feeling of liberty as they sped over the blue waves of the
Mediterranean, across the Bay of Biscay, and up the Channel, arriving
safely at Hull, whence they proceeded with Sir Thomas to Cleveland.
Sir Thomas established his works beyond Bellemondegate, where now
mountains of refuse shale are piled up. For some time the works
yielded but small profit, and it was not until Chaloner got more
workmen from Rochelle that they became a success, after which they
yielded a handsome revenue, and had the effect of breaking down the
Italian monopoly, and reducing the price of alum in England to
one-half its former cost.
When Chaloner had got the mines and works into thorough working order,
King Charles I., at the instigation of some of his rapacious
courtiers, made a claim to them as Crown property, and he was
compelled to surrender them. They were then let to Sir Paul Pindar, at
a rent of £12,500 per annum, to be paid into the Royal Exchequer,
besides £1,600 per annum to the Earl of Mulgrave and £600 per annum to
Sir William Pennyman, but they were restored to the Chaloners by the
Long Parliament. Eight hundred men were employed on the works, and the
alum sold at £26 per ton, which left a large residue of profit. Other
mines were discovered in Cleveland, on the estates of the families of
Phipps, Pennyman, Fairfax, D'Arcy, and Cholmley, when competition
brought down the price, and consequently reduced the profits; and, as
some of these were situated nearer the sea-coast, with greater
facilities for shipment, the Guisborough mines became less and less
profitable, and were eventually abandoned.
This conduct on the part of King Charles caused the Chaloners to
become zealous Parliamentarians in the Civil War. Sir Thomas's sons,
James and Thomas, drew their swords against the King, and both sat as
members of the High Court of Justice for his trial. The former was
tried as a regicide after the Restoration, was condemned to death, and
drawn on a hurdle to Tyburn for execution, but received a reprieve
when the halter was round his neck; was remitted to the Tower, and
died of poison, it was reported, by his own hand, "an invention," says
Markham, in his Life of Fairfax, "of the carrion vultures of the
Restoration."
The latter, at the Restoration, was included in the list of those
excluded from pardon, but saved his life by flight. Winstanley says of
him, "He had travelled far in the world, and returned home poysoned
with that Jesuitical doctrine of King-killing, which he put in
practice, being the great speech-maker against the King, ... and a
great stickler for their new Utopian Commonwealth, but upon His
Majestie's return fled, his actions being so bad as would not endure
the touchstone."
The Maiden of Marblehead.
One fine summer's morning, in the year of grace 1742, the little inn
of the little town of Marblehead was in a state of great bustle, in
anticipation of the visit of some Government officials from Boston to
dine there. The landlady, rather vixenish in temper and tongue, was
busily occupied in attending to the culinary department, and at
intervals scolding a young girl of sixteen, who was scrubbing the
floor, and was the maid-of-all-work in the establishment, working from
early in the morning till late at night for a small pittance of wages.
Marblehead was a small fishing town or village about sixteen miles
from Boston, in New England, consisting of a cluster of log-built and
straw-thatched houses, amongst which stood conspicuously forth the
little hostelry, in consequence of its sign of King George the
Second's head swinging and creaking from a crossbeam over the
highway. The inhabitants were almost entirely of Guernsey descent, a
brave people, but not so loyal as the sign of their inn would seem to
indicate, as after the war of the Revolution there were in the town
600 widows of patriots who had fallen; and, in the war of 1812, 500
Marblehead men were prisoners of war in England. The washing of the
floor was not completed when the sound of horses' feet was heard
coming along the road, and in a few minutes three gentlemen alighted
at the door, gave their horses in charge of an extemporised ostler,
and entered the house. The landlady made a profound curtsy to her
guests, and at the same time rated her hand-maiden for not having the
room ready for the gentlemen. "Don't scold her," said he who appeared
to be the chief of the group; "I dare say the little lassie has done
her best, and perhaps we have arrived earlier than we were expected."
The girl, who was dressed in homely attire, and without shoes or
stockings, turned her head with a silent glance of thanks to the
speaker--a glance which he pronounced to himself to be angelic.
The gentleman who thus came upon the scene was a Mr. Charles Henry
Frankland, thirty-six years of age, and slightly bronzed in feature
from his early residence in Bengal, where he was born. He was the
eldest son of the Governor of Bengal, Henry Frankland, who had been
brother and heir-presumptive of Sir Thomas Frankland, third baronet of
Thirkleby, in Yorkshire, but he had died in 1736, leaving this son
heir-presumptive to the baronetcy in his place. In 1741 he had been
appointed Collector of the Customs at the port of Boston, and on this
summer's morning, with two subordinates was paying a professional
visit to Marblehead, which lay within the Boston collection. The more
he saw of the girl, as she waited at table during dinner, the more was
he struck with the beauty of her features and the faultless symmetry
of her figure. As was said of her, "Her ringlets were black and glossy
as the raven; her dark eyes beamed with light and loveliness, and her
voice was musical and bird-like." He entered into conversation with
her, and found that her name was Agnes Surriage, and that her parents,
of a humble position in life, dwelt at a neighbouring village. He was
charmed with the modest and intelligent replies she made to his
questions, but found that she was altogether uneducated, and had
learnt nothing excepting how to perform household work, to sew and
knit, and "to go to meeting on Sundays." On leaving, he gave her money
to buy herself shoes and stockings; but on his next visit he found her
again bare-legged, and asking her why she had not supplied herself
with shoes and stockings, she replied that she had done so, but kept
them to go to "meeting" in.
Becoming more and more fascinated with her beauty, he at length asked
her parents to allow him to take her to Boston and have her educated,
to which they consented, after some hesitation. He caused her to be
instructed in reading, writing, drawing, music, dancing, and all the
accomplishments of a fine lady; but although she excelled eventually
in sketching, playing, and dancing, and wrote a beautiful hand, she
could never master the difficulties of orthography, her spelling to
the last being always of an original and curiously eccentric
character.
When her education was completed, and she had grown to womanhood, he
took her to his home as his mistress, and she bore him a son, who was
christened Richard Cromwell. She was, however, looked upon askance by
the Quaker circles of Boston, not on account of her lowly birth, but
because of her disreputable connection with her "protector." Sir
Thomas Frankland, third baronet, died without male issue, in 1747, and
Charles Henry, his nephew, succeeded as fourth baronet. Seven years
after, he returned to England, with Agnes and his son, to dispute the
will of the late baronet as to the disposition of the family estates
at Thirkleby, near Easingwold. Sir Thomas made three wills; the first
in 1741, wherein he left a slender provision for his widow, leaving
the estates to his heir-male. In the second, made in 1744, he left
Thirkleby to his widow for life, to pass at her death to the then
holder of the baronetcy; and by the third will, dated 1746, he left
her the estates, producing £2,500 per annum, and the whole of his
personalty absolutely, and to dispose of as she chose. It was
contended that the last will was made when he was in an unsound state
of mind and under undue influence, and a lawsuit ensued, resulting in
the setting aside of the third and the confirmation of the second
will. The lawsuit gained, Sir Charles and Agnes went for a tour on the
Continent, and in the month of November, 1755, were sojourning in the
city of Lisbon. On the 1st of that month, the sun rose, shining with
almost unusual brightness, and the streets were filled with people
going hither and thither on matters of religion, business, and
pleasure, little dreaming of, and with nothing to indicate, the
catastrophe which was to befall their city. The Franklands had
breakfasted at their hotel, and Sir Charles, donning a Court suit,
started off in a carriage with a lady to witness the celebration of
High Mass in the Cathedral, leaving Agnes at the hotel. They had not
proceeded far, and were passing in front of a lofty building, when,
without warning, the terrible earthquake occurred, which in eight
minutes laid the city in ruins, and swallowed up 50,000 of its
inhabitants. The lofty building came crashing down, and buried the
carriage and its occupants. What became of the lady is not known, but
the horses were killed, and Sir Charles lay bruised and wounded
beneath the ruins for an hour. In full expectation of death, he
reflected on his past life, and, concluding that he was undergoing a
judgment of God for his misdeeds, and especially for having lived in a
state of concubinage, made a vow that if he should be rescued, he
would show his repentance by marrying the partner of his guilt. Agnes
had escaped unhurt, and when the first shock had passed, fearful that
some mischance had befallen him, rushed out in the direction of the
cathedral, regardless of the still falling houses, in search of him.
As she was clambering over a heap of ruins, she heard moans issuing
from beneath, and a voice which she recognised as that of her beloved
one. She immediately got together a party of diggers, and, by promises
of high rewards, succeeded in extricating him, and after his wounds
had been dressed, conveyed him to Belem, where, in process of time, he
recovered, and where their marriage was celebrated.
Sir Charles returned to Boston; but in 1757 he was appointed
Consul-General to Portugal, and again came to Lisbon. In 1763 he
resumed his duties at Boston, retaining his consulship, although
absent, until 1767, when he returned to England, and died the
following year, being succeeded in the baronetcy by his brother
Thomas.
Lady Frankland returned to New England with her son, and they resided
upon an estate at Hopkinson which she had inherited through her
parents, but at the outbreak of the Revolutionary war in 1775, she,
being a Royalist, came to England, and, in 1782, married Mr. John
Drew, a banker at Chichester, and died in 1783.
Richard Cromwell, her son, entered the naval service of England, but
retired on his ship being ordered to America, as he felt unwilling to
fight against his native land. In 1796 he was living in Chichester
with a family growing up around him.
In 1865 there was published at Albany, "Sir Charles Henry Frankland,
Bart.; or, Boston in the Colonial Times; by Elias Nason, M.A.," who,
in the preface, says--"Who was Sir C. H. Frankland? is a question
which a brief story entitled 'A legend of New England,' and published
by William Lincoln, in 1843, and still more recently the ballad of
'Agnes,' by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes here, led the public to
entertain: Was he a real person or a myth? Was there ever such a
collector of the port of Boston? Was he indeed buried under the ruins
of Lisbon at the time of the great earthquake? Was he rescued
therefrom by the efforts of a poor girl, named Agnes Surriage, and did
he afterwards make her his wife?" These questions the author answers
in the subsequent pages of the pamphlet, of which the above is an
epitome.
Rise of the House of Phipps.
About the middle of the seventeenth century, during the Civil War and
the Restoration, there dwelt in Bristol one James Phipps, a gunsmith
by trade. He was blessed with a numerous progeny; of him it might
truly be said that "his quiver was full of them," for he had
eventually twenty-six children, of whom twenty-one were boys. Having
only his gunmaking trade to depend upon for a living, he found it
difficult to provide means for feeding, clothing, and educating them,
and often lay awake long at nights, pondering in his mind what he
should do to meet the necessities of the case. At that time, and for
two or three reigns previously, we had been at work laying the
foundations of the present great American Republic, by establishing
plantations of colonists, aristocratic and Episcopalian, in the south,
and Puritanical in the north, most of whom had been driven thither by
the persecutions they had undergone in the mother country. Bristol
was then the great port of imports and exports of the Western
Continent, and James Phipps naturally heard of the unbounded
capabilities of the new continent, as also he heard, by tradition, of
the vast wealth which the buccaneers of Elizabeth's reign--the old
Vikings of Devonshire--brought from the West Indies, Peru, Mexico,
etc., into the ports of Bristol, Barnstaple, Bideford, etc., and it
occurred to him that here was scope enough for him and all his sons,
and he emigrated with them to New England, where William, his youngest
son, was born, and he seems to have died soon after, as this son is
stated to have been brought up by his mother until he was eighteen
years of age.
This William Phipps was the founder of that family who are now lords
of Mulgrave Castle, and whose dignity has culminated in a Marquisate.
He had received no education, but taught himself to read and write
when apprentice to a ship carpenter. At the expiration of his
apprenticeship he married the daughter of Captain Robert Spencer, and
relict of a rich merchant of the name of Hull, who brought him a small
fortune, with which he commenced business, but his speculations were
not successful. But he did not despair, although fortune did seem to
frown. He was a man of unbounded enterprise and energy, and he said to
his wife, who was lamenting the loss of her money, "Be not cast down,
my dear; I will live to be the commander of better men than I myself
am now. Providence has great things in store for me, and the time
shall come when I will build a fair brick house in the green lane of
North Boston, of which you shall be the mistress." When casting about
for employment, he chanced to hear of a Spanish galleon, laden with
specie and plate, which had been wrecked half a century previously
somewhere in the Bahamas, and he resolved to go in search of it, and
to endeavour the recovery of the cargo by means of the diving-bell.
Aristotle, 300 years B.C., makes some obscure references to a machine
of this kind, but what it was or how employed is not known. The first
reliable account we have of such a machine is given by Taisnier, who
describes a "cacobus aquaticus" (marine kettle) which was exhibited by
two Greeks before the Emperor Charles V., at Toledo, in 1538; but it
seems to have been of no practical use, as it had no apparatus for
supplying the divers with fresh air. A similar sort of bell, but
constructed on better principles, had been made use of on the coast of
Mull, between the years 1650 and 1660 to operate upon some sunken
vessels of the Spanish Armada, but without much success. It was this
which directed the attention of Phipps to the diving-bell, who
perceived that by various modifications and improvements of the
apparatus it might be made a most valuable instrument for submarine
operations, and after a long and patient study, and numberless
experiments, he succeeded in constructing a bell very much the same as
that now used, and capable of being worked much more efficiently and
with greater safety than any previously employed. In consequence of
his having thus, by his skill and scientific modifications, produced a
really working machine, he is generally styled "the inventor of the
diving-bell." He sailed for the Bahamas, but was not able to find the
spot where the vessel lay. He received information of another,
however, the position of which was more accurately defined, and which
held a much greater treasure.
He then sailed for London, his resources having failed, where he
arrived in 1683, and laid the project before King Charles, who
furnished him with a 19-gun frigate, in which he returned to the
Bahamas. Before he found the locality of the object of his search, he
again became crippled for funds, and went again to London for further
assistance, but King James, who had succeeded to the crown in the
interval, deeming his views visionary, declined having anything to do
in the matter. The Duke of Albemarle, however, was more sanguine and
got up a subscription for a fresh outfit, on condition that he and the
subscribers should share in the proceeds, and Captain Phipps sailed
with two vessels. This time he was more successful; after some search
he found the precise spot where the galleon lay, and, by means of his
diving-bell, brought up from the wreck thirty-two tons of silver,
besides gold plate and jewels, of the estimated value of £200,000.
With this splendid prize he came again to England, but on a division
of the spoil, he got no more than £20,000, the Duke absorbing £90,000,
whilst the remainder was distributed amongst the other subscribers and
the crews of the vessels. The King, in appreciation of his ingenuity
and enterprise, knighted him, and constituted him Sheriff of New
England. He made a second visit to the wreck, and made a gleaning of
what had been left, and on his return to New England he built the
"fair brick house in the green lane of North Boston," where he dwelt
some time with his wife, now Lady Phipps, who no longer twitted him
about the loss of her fortune. He afterwards served in the army, and
was appointed, by William III., Governor of Massachusetts; but two
years after, refusing to sanction certain corrupt practices, he was
charged by his enemies with maladministration of his government. He
went to London to clear himself of the false charges, but died there
soon after his arrival, in 1694, and was buried in the Church of St.
Mary Woolnoth, London, where his widow erected a sumptuous monument to
his memory, with a sculptured representation of his achievements in
the Bahamas.