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YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

TRADITIONS,
LEGENDS, SUPERSTITIONS, AND SKETCHES
OF
DEYONSHIEE
ON THE BORDERS OF
THE TAMAR AND THE TAVY,
ILT.USTHATIVE OP ITS
MANNERS, CUSTOMS, HISTORY,
antiquities, scenery, and NATURAL HISTORY,
IN A SERIES OF LETTERS TO
ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.-^-ff^":,

BY

r.' ..

MRS. BRAY. \\ /^_
AUTHOR (as MRS. STOTHABd) OF ' TRAVFLS IN NOni»4Wiy£Tf

** I own the power
Of local sympathy, that o'er the fair
Throws more divine allurement, and o'er all
The great, more grandeur."

IN THREE VOLUMES.— VOL. II.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
MDCCCXXXVIII.

SUBJECTS

OF

VOLUME THE SECOND.
Page
Letter XXII.
1
Letter XXIII.
34
Letter XXIV.
. 60
Letter XXV.
81
Letter XXVI.
. 100
Letter XXVII.
134
Letter XXVIIL
. 176
Letter XXIX.
220
Letter XXX.
. 248
Letter XXXI.
301
LETTERS TO THE LAUREATE,
S(-c, ^c.

LETTER XXII.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

Contents: — Tavistock, its situation and local advantages — The River,
&c. — Great antiquity of the Town — For what celebrated — An old
Woman's observation on the antiquity of scalded cream — Etymo
logy of the name of the Town — Beauty of the surrounding object?
— The Vicarage — Those pleasures derived from Nature most
lasting — Browne, the Author of Britannia's Pastorals, born in
Tavistock — His lines on his birth-place — The Nightingale not
found iu Devon — Little known of the Roman era in this part of
the West — Tavistock intimately connected with Saxon History —
A Saxon Noble founder of its Abbey — That Monastic foundation
gave importance to the Town — Progress of Christianity in the West
— By whom the Damnonii were converted not known with any
certainty — Mr. Southey's opinion on the subject, given in a Note,
from one of his letters — The People of the West beuetited in civi
lization by the Roman Conquest — The subject continued — Anglo-
Saxons settled in this part of the Island — Progress of the Church —
The first Bishops in Devon — Abbey of Tavistock ; its present poor
remains contrasted with its former splendour — Orgar, his rank
and office as Alderman or Earl of Devon — Tbe Court in which he
presided — Elected at the Shiregemot — The wisdom of Alfred in
his Laws — Office of Earl not at first hereditary — A Member of the
Wittenagemote — Orgar, father of the celebrated Elfrida — She
was born in Tavistock — Her early Life — Ethelwold deputed to
woo her for the King — Splendour of her Father's Court — Ethelwold
falls in love with, deceives the King, and marries her himself —
The trick discovered; its fatal consequences — Different opinions
lespecting the place where Ethelwold was slain — Malmesbury
proved to be erroneous in his statement respecting Dorsetshire —
Browne and Selden's detection of errors in the manuscript copies
of Malmesbury referred to — hence might have arisen the mistake
VOL. II. B

2 SITUATION OF TAVISTOCK. [lET.
— Risdon's account most probable ; supported as it is by the
evidence derived from local circumstances — Risdon's learning as
an antiquary — Edward the Martyr most likely killed in Dorset
shire, where the Nunnery was afterwards built by Elfrida — Saxon
Chronicle quoted in evidence of the fact — The question further
examined, and the subject continued — Miss Seward's mistake
respecting Gawthorpe Hall, the Seat of Lord Harewood, Yorkshire,
for Harewood in CornwaU — Mason's Tragedy of Elfrida ; its merit
as a poem — Falsifies History.

Vicarage, Tavistock, June 16, 1832.
My DEAR Sir,
Having now led you through the western
limits of Dartmoor, whence the river Tavy takes its
rise, I purpose, in this letter, commencing my ac
count of the town to which that river gives name : a
town of very high antiquity, and* possessing many
interesting claims on our attention, not only in a
general, but individual point of view ; since it has
given birth to many whose names have become
illustrious in the history or literature of this king
dom. Tavistock is situated on the banks of the Tavy, on
the western side of the Forest of Dartmoor, and not
very far distant from the river Tamar, which divides
the counties of Cornwall and Devon. It lies thirty-
two miles west from the city of Exeter ; sixteen south
from Oakhampton; and fourteen north from the
good town of Plymouth. Few places in England,
perhaps, have been more blest with local attractions
by the bounties of a gracious Providence.
The town hes in a valley surrounded by hills,
whose verdure is perpetual. The river is here pe
culiarly beautiful : it runs, with great rapidity, over
vast portions of rock that form its bed. The whole

^XII.] CLOUTED CREAM. 3
parish abounds with springs and rivulets of the
purest water. The woods (where they are suffered
to remain, for the love of lopping a tree in every
hedge is the sin of this neighbourhood) are exceed
ingly luxuriant : the oak is common amongst these,
and the most wooded parts lie westward in the parish.
The soil is, generally speaking, of a deep brown,
here and there tinged with red ; it is exceedingly
rich and fertile ; anti strata of aUuvial deposit may
be observed in many of the valleys. Our pasturage
is abundant ; and we are celebrated, Uke most parts
of Devon, for the excellence of that luxury, our
scalded or clouted cream. This has been honoured by
the notice of a poet whose verse captivates the fancy,
and raises even to ecstasy the spirit of every reader
whose heart and eye are sensible to the charms of
nature in aU the varied productions of her hand.
Spenser thus alludes to our cream in his delightful
poem, the "^ Shepherd's Calendar;' where Colin re
cites to Thenot the graces and courtesy of a deceased
Shepherdess :
Ne would she scorne the simple shepheard swaine ;
For she would call him often heme,
And give him curds and clouted cream.
We have another delicious preparation from our
milk, caUed junket, which has also been noticed by a
great poet ; for Milton -writes in his L' Allegro,
'And fairy Mab ihejunieis ate.'
Indeed we are so celebrated for our cream, and have
been so in all ages, that I doubt not that of this was
made the very sort of butter, in the western parts
of Britain, so much esteemed by the^ Romans: the
wicker- worked baskets, and the butter of the Bri
tons, being aUuded to by one or more of their most
b2

4 ETYMOLOGY OF TAVISTOCK. [lET.
famous writers*. This luxury, no doubt, continued
to be held in estimation in the times of the Anglo-
Saxons, when the western part of the island became
more than ever valuable on account of its flocks and
herds. I once told a good old woman, who carried
me into her cottage to see her dairy at Fitter Tavy,
(as the country people here call the romantic village
of Peter Tavy) that she little thought of how an
cient date was the custom of preparing the rich
scalded cream, in the manner she was describing to
me. " Auncient !" she exclaimed; "I'se warrant
he's as old as Adam ; for all the best things in the
world were to be had in Paradise." This origin of
clouted cream went even beyond my antiquarian
speculations ; though certainly I must admit, if all
the best things in the world were really to be found
in Paradise, our cream might, certainly, there claim a
place. Respecting the name of our town, I here insert
an extract from my brother Alfred John Kempe's
Historical Notices of the Abbey, that appeared in
the Gentleman's Magazine, to which, on alraost aU
subjects connected with antiquity, he has now, for
many years, been a constant, and I will add, a va
luable contributor.
" The etymology of the name Tavistock does not
appear to be of difficult solution. ' The place on the
Tavy' is evidently implied by the compound ; but it
may be observed that, by early writers of the monk
ish age, the Tavy is caUed the Tau, and that the
Taw, the Towy, the Tay, and the Taf, are common
appeUatives of many British rivers. The Tavy
discharges itself into the Tamar, a few miles above
* Martial mentions the baskets, Pliny the butter of the barbarians.

XXII. J ETYm6lOGY of TAVISTOCK. 5
Plymouth ; of which last-mentioned river it may be
accounted a branch. There can be Uttle doubt,
therefore, that the Tavy is an abbreviation of the
British words Tau vechan, or the little Tau, thus dis
tinguishing the tributary branch from the Tau maivr,
(afterwards Tamar,) the great Tau. When the
Saxons estabUshed this town and monastery on the
banks of the Tau vechan, they were content to affix
a short adjunct from their own language to tho ori
ginal British words, and the abbreviated form, so
much sought by common parlance, easily moulded
Tau vechanstohe into Tavistock. The Saxon Chro
nicle indeed strongly countenances this opinion ; in
that venerable record it is caUed ^tepnzjtoke,
which, without any distortion, may be read At-ta-
vingstoke*." I confess, that in describing my beloved towm,
I shaU iind some difficulty in speaking with other
than the most partial feelings ; since so much cause
have I to give it a good name, so much do I delight
in the scenery that every where surrounds us ; so
much pleasure do I feel in the tranquil retirement
* Respecting the etymology of Tavistock, I copy the following
passage from the works of Browne, the poet, who was born in that
town. " Tavie is a river, having his head in Dertmoor, in Devon,
some few miles from Marie-Tavy, and falls southward into Tamar:
out of the same Moore riseth, ruuning northward, another, called Tau:
which by the way the rather I speak of, because in the printed
Malmesburie de Gest. Pontific. lib. 2, fol. 146, you reade: Est in
Damnonia coenobium Monachorum juxta Tau fluvium, qi^od Tavis
tock vocatur : whereas upon Tau stands (neere the north side of the
shire) Taustocke, being no remnants of a monasterie ; so that you
must there reade, juxta Tair Fluvium, as in a Manuscript Copie of
Malmesburie's time (the form of the hand assuring Malmesburie's
time) belonging te the Abbey of St. Augustine, in Canterburie, I have
seen in the hands of my very learned friend M. Selden." Indeed
Taustock and Tavistock are still very frequently confounded.

6 THE VICARAGE. [lET.
of the Vicarage house, (situated as it is in a beautiful
garden, where the venerable walls of the Abbey
form the boundary of our little domain,) that I fancy
no spot so delightful as my own home. Many, I
dare say, would smile at hearing such an assertion ;
but if it be a prejudice, it is not only a very harmless
one, but such as may be encouraged and turned to
good account ; a grateful contentment with that lot
given to iis as our portion by the goodness of Provi
dence, being one of those duties that carry with them
their reward — a constant enjoyment of the things
that are our own. Here, indeed, may we say, " the
lines have fallen to us in pleasant places." And if
it be true, (which surely no considerate mind will
deny,) that next to the blessing of dear kindred
and friends, there are no temporal blessings to be
compared to a quiet home, situated in a picturesque
country, with plenty of books and leisure to read
them, we have every cause to feel that we are blest ;
and to entertain that kindly spirit even towards the
inanimate things of this neighbourhood, which can
only be truly felt where there is content at home to
receive it. A mind distracted with worldly cares and
desires, the gratification of which arises from without,
and is dependent on the wdl of others, on casualty or
caprice, can never be sufficiently disengaged to admit
that fellowship of feeling which associates its own
tranquilUty with the beauty and harmony of nature.
There must be rest in the soul to enjoy it in the
fields ; and there it wiU be found, like that peace of
mind which passeth aU understanding, that the world
can neither give nor take away, a constant source of
the most enduring pleasures.
Browne, the poet, was fuUy alive to this feeUng,

XXII.] . BROWNE THE POET. 7
when he celebrated, in the numbers of pure English
verse, the pastoral deUghts of his " native Tavy," as
he calls the river that watered the to^vn where he first
di-ew breath. The associations created by poetry
never die : they are like the immortal spirit to whose
aspirations they owe their • birth, above the things
of this life, and are neither Uable to the chances nor
changes of fortune. To live in a neighbourhood
that has given birth to a poet, that has seen him in
his infancy sporting amidst its hills and vaUeys, and
receiving by its "voiceful streams" those early
impressions which, in after and maturer years, be
come the theme of his song, is a circumstance, in
itself, enough to inspire even a common mind with
some of those better feeUngs that have no part with
the world, or the world's law. On this account, had
Tavistock no other claim to veneration — as the birth
place of Browne, the author of Britannia's Pas
torals, it would stand eminent amongst towns. With
what feelings its picturesque situation inspired the
youthful poet, even these simple lines (which more
by chance than design have just met my eye, in
turning over the pages of his works) may serve
to teU. As (woo'd by Maye's delights) I have been borne
To take the kind ayre of a wistfuU morne
Neere Tavie's voyceful streame (to whom I owe
More straines than from my pipe can ever flowe ;)
Here have I heard a sweet bird never Iin
To chide the river for his clam'rous din ;
There seem'd another in his song to tell.
That what the fayre streame did he liked well ;
And going further heard Another loo
All varying still in what the others doe ;
Alittle thence, a fourth with little paine
Con'd all their lessons and then sting againe;

8 THE NIGHTINGALE. [lET.
So numberlesse the songsters are that sing
In the sweet groves of the too careless spring,
That I no sooner could the hearing lose
Of orte of them, but straight another rose
And perching deftly on a quaking spray
Nye tired herself to make her hearer stay,
Whilst in a bush two nightingales together
Show'd thebest skill they had to draw me thither.'
Browne's allusion to the nightingale, in these Unes,
must either have been a poetical license, or some
change must have taken place in the natural history
of Devon since his day; as that bird is now un
known in our county. ' White attributes the failure
of it, with us, not to want of warmth, as the west is
the mildest part of the whole island ; but considers
it a presumptive argument that this bird crosses
over from the continent at the narrowest passage,
and strolls not so far westward. Some naturalists,
however, conclude that we are wanting in the pecu
Uar kind of food on which the nightingale delights
to feed.
I shall not enter here upon any individual local
descriptions ; because, as in the letters about Dart
moor, it will, I think, be more amusing to blend all
such accounts with the historical and antiquarian
notices, as they may occur. Thus, for instance,
when I shall have occasion to speak of the great
Sir Francis Drake, it will be time ejiough to mention
the beautiful spot in which he was born about a mile
from our town. Something must previously be said
of the early history of this place ; and the British
period having already occupied many letters in
relation to the moor, the Saxon comes next in suc-
session ; as very little is known of the Roman era in
this part of England.

XXII.] CHRISTIANS OF THE DAMNONIA. 9
Indeed Tavistock is so intimately connected with
the Anglo-Saxon times, that many persons, perhaps,
would have commenced at that period; since not
only to a Saxon noble was the town indebted for its
costly abbey, but here, also, was that language
studied and taught after it had become obsolete in
every other part of the kingdom. Here, too, the
daughter of the founder of that abbey, the unworthy
wife of Ethelwold, the queen of Edgar, the cruel
step-mother of his son — the beautiful Elfrida, first
drew breath ; and here was acted the scene of that
interview, which awakened in the heart of the young
king a guilty passion that prompted him to commit
the crimes of treachery and murder.
The foundation of the Abbey of Tavistock was
a thing of so much importance, not only to the town,
but in the ecclesiastical history of the county, that
it becomes necessary here to offer a few brief re
marks on the progress of Christianity in the west,
which inspired the kings of Wessex and the earls of
Devon with that piety and zeal for the church, so
beneficial in its day, and so productive of good, be
fore those corruptions gradually crept in which ren
dered the reformation absolutely necessary to restore
the ceremonies, as weU as the doctrines of our re
Ugion, to their primitive purity and spirit.
At what period Christianity was first propagated
in Damnonia, or by whom, is not, I believe, known
with any degree of certainty : but, from the circum
stance of the ancient Britons making Cornwall one
of the strong-holds of their retreat, it is probable, as
the remnant of the bards and Druids stih lingered
with that people, that paganism might have main
tained its sway in the west, when it was no longer
b3

10 EFFECTS OF ROMAN CIVILIZATION. [lET.
to be found in the mid-land, or other parts of
Britain *.
It seems doubtful if Christianity was here propa
gated previous to the Saxon conquest; though it is
highly probable the natives of Devon benefited in
civiUzation after the Roman power was estabUshed
in these kingdoms. The Romans were stem foes,
but generous conquerors; and the nations they sub
dued were not left by them, as by the barbarous
hordes of the north in their achievements, with no
other mark than that of destruction to mtness their
victories. The useful and even the elegant arts of
life came with them : the very ensign they bore —
the eagle — a noble and a royal bird, as truly de
noted the high character of their conquests, as did
the banner of the raven, that dark bird of prey, pre
figure the destructive victories of the cruel Danes.
Though the Damnonu cannot be supposed to have
acquired that degree of civiUzation which Avould have
rendered them equal to their Roman victors in the
general refinement of their manners, yet the dis
countenance, and, as far as it could be efi'ected, the ex
tirpation of the rites of Druidism, answered a good
" A few days after the above passage was written, a letter I had
the honour of receiving from Mr. Southey confirmed the opinion here
expressed; that gentleman says — "Perhaps the Western Britons
were less disturbed by wars than any other people in the island,
during the whole time of the Heptarchy. They bordered only upon
Wessex, which was generally the best governed of the Anglo-Saxon
kingdoms, was strong enough, for the most part, to make them quiet
neighbours ; and was too much occupied on other sides to think of
molesting them. Exeter continued long to be a half Welsh town,
just as Fiiburg, in Switzerland, is still divided between the two
languages. During such a state of things, thS bards had leisure to
keep up the old religion in all its forms, and make the last stand
against Christianity."

XXII.] BENEFITS OF CIVILIZATION. 11
end, by lessening the fi-equency of human sacri •
fices. The people, who had been accustomed to
witness this wanton immolation of their fellow-crea
tures, became less barbarous : murder ceased to
be a spectacle; the keen relish for human blood,
which in all nations such savage rites never fail to
create, died away ; and the first noisome weed that
would have impeded the growth of the good seed
being thus, by divine Providence, cast out, the
ground was graduaUy prepared to receive the future
blessings of the tree of life : a tree which once hav
ing taken root in this island, though grievously
assailed by subsequent storms and tempests ; though
its branches were lopped off, or consumed in the fire,
yet, watered by the blood of saints and martyrs, has
never been withered, or torn from the soil ; but has
flourished, and, with God's blessing, still shall flourish,
unskaken by those infidel hands, which, even in our
days, would raise themselves to level its sacred head
with the dust.
However much of superstition, or of fraud, there
might have been in the church at a very early period,
yet, even in its corrupt state, its benefits were in
calculably great to a land that had so long been
buried in the darkness and cruelties of paganism.
Christianity, in every country where it takes root,
as its first friiits, improves the -wretched estate of
the slave, the poor, and the women ; since, by teach
ing man that he is a responsible being, it makes him
become a reasonable one. How great must have beeh
the change in Britain produced by planting the
doctrines of Christ in Ueu of those which were said
to be derived from Odin or from Belus, when the
one true and only sacrifice, the Son of God himself.

12 AUGING. [let.
once offered on the cross for the sins of the whole
world, was taught instead of the cruel butcheries,
which, like those of their eastern ancestors, were
" Abominations ! and with cursed things
His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned,
And with their darkness durst atFront his light.
First Moloch, horrid king, besmear'd with blood —
Of human sacrifice and parents' tears !"
The barbarisms too of divination, of consulting the
entrails of human beings and of animals, whilst they
were yet panting under the knife, were abolished.
This custom had, no doubt, its origin in that restless
desire of man (the strong and natural proof of his
immortality) to penetrate beyond the veil which
lies between him and his future destiny. With no
people was this desire more apparent than vvith the
ancient Britons, who undertook no wars, or actions
of any import, Avithout consulting the lots or augury
of the priests. Christianity rooted out this pre
sumptuous and vain inquiry, and taught men to
trust Him for the disposal of the future, who can
alone direct all events Avith an unerring hand.
To draw a comparison between sacred and pro
fane things, it might be said of the early Chi-istian
Missionary in his overthrow of augury, and preach
ing the glad tidings of the gospel in its stead, that
like Prometheus, as he is made to recite his acts by
the poet ^schylus, he took from man the power of
searching out his future destiny, but gave him a far
better boon — even Hope in its stead. Surely this
Avas a very just and beautiful allegory in the Greek
dramatist ; since, could men know the miseries they
will suffer in their progress through life, the source
of honourable or necessary exertion would become

XXII.] FIRST EPISCOPAL SEE. 13
dried up and barren; but Hope, as a perennial
fountain, plays on from an exhaustless spring, and
affords her refreshing draughts to the pilgrim, of the
world, even to the last and closing hour of his weary
joui'ney toAvards the tomb.
After the Anglo-Saxons Avere settled in this part
of the island, Christianity vvas first propagated in
the kingdom of Wessex, during the reign of Cyne-
gils, by Byrinus (A. D. 634), Avho, finding- the people
idolaters, undertook their conversion Avith the sanc
tion of Pope Honorius. The first episcopal see was
in the city of Dorcester, not the Roman station^ but,
according to Fuller, an old city in Oxfordshire,
Avhere a church was erected. On the death of Byri
nus, the kingdom in Avhich he had planted the good
seed Avas cruelly torn and divided ; for that fierce
idolater Penda, king of Mercia, invaded and con
quered it ; and not till the rightful and Christian
heir of the croAvn Avas restored, did Wessex again
taste the blessings of peace and of the gospel. Se
veral worthy ecclesiastics were now favoured by the
prince, and received by the people ; and the spirit
of God, " mighty in word and works," Avas every
where spread abroad with the happiest effects.
Many churches were built, and the magnificent
structure, Winchester Cathedral, Avas first com
menced by Cenowalch, Avho there fixed Wina as its
bishop. The civil wars Avhich succeeded the death of the
king, though they might for a while impede the
growth, did not extirpate the fruits of Christian
ity, and soon after the kingdom being divided into
two dioceses, Winchester and Sherborne, Devonshire,
in ecclesiastical matters, came under the jurisdiction

14 • TAVISTOCK ABBEY. [lET.
of the latter. Good Bishop Aldhglm then fiUed the
see, and ruled with great prudence, learning and
piety. In process of time Devonshire had bishops
of its own, who were stationed at Tawton, Crediton,
and Exeter. The first Bishops, Werstanus and
Putta, were appointed about the beginning of the
tenth century; the last-named met Avith a violent
death; since, on visiting at Crediton an officer of the
royal household, from some unknoAvn cause, he Avas
slain by one of Uffa's men. Putta Avas succeeded by
Eadulphus, Ethelgarus, and Algarus. The last
having sat ten years, gave up his see to Alfodus, in
conseqiience of the strenuous exertions of the famous
St. Dunstan. This occrn'red about the year 9f)2.
He Avas succeeded in 970 by Alfwolgus. It must,
therefore, have been during the time of Bishop Al
garus, and of Edgar, king of Wessex; that Tavistock
Abbey was first founded by Orgar, Earl, or Herotoge
of Devon.
That once magnificent abbey is now in ruins ; —
the Avriter of this letter dAvells Avithin the boundary
of its venerable walls ; nor is that dwelling, though
become familiar by long use, unassociated -with those
recollections which render such a habitation replete
with local interest and feeling. The gi'ey walls ; the
mouldering toAver with its ruined Avindows, once gor
geous in the gloAving hues of their stained glass,
through whose, empty space the Avind now whistles in
melancholy cadence ; the " ivy-mantled " arch ; the
Avinding steps ; the entry, strewn Avith fragments of
those columns which once upheld the stately roof,
where noAV the bat Avaves her dusky Aving, and aU of
former times is silent, or forgotten, saving the whis
perings of superstition, that have peopled even this

XXII.] EARL ORGAR. 15
poor archAvay with the ghosts of the dead ! — are aU
objects that cannot be contemplated Avithout some
thoughts that lead us to dwell on the rapid flight of
time ; the mutability of governments ; the passions
of men, and their Adolence even in a just cause — for
the greater part of the ruin before our eyes was the
work of the Reformation. Who but would lament
this, when he reflects hoAV much there is of evil that
mingles itself Avith human actions, however good may
be their aim ! We see the effects of those passions
which exceeded the limits of reason or necessity, and
but hastened that decay Avhich is the final doom of
all things here on earth. This is a lesson that may
be taught even by such speechless monitors as these
old abbey Avails. We look on the last fragment
noAV left of the abbey church itself,* and caU up
the remembrance of Avhat it Avas in the strength and
beauty of its early days, — a holy fane, stately in
every proportion, decorated Avith every ornament the
sculptor's art could supply, and hung with jeAvelled
pomp, bestowed by nobles and kings, to render it a
temple fitted, in outward splendour, to the Avorship
of Him in Avhose keeping are the hearts of kings,
and from Avhose hand the royal crown is placed upon
their brows.
Orgar, to whose munificence the Western Church
was indebted for the abbey, which, no doubt, gave
rise to the wealth and importance of the town, Avas
born in or near TaA-istock, and held the rank and
office of earl, or alderman, of Devon. The court in
which an earl presided met tAvice a year, after Mi
chaelmas and Easter ; it Avas composed of the free
holders of the shire, who had a voice in the decisions.
* The archway,' said to be Orgar's tomb.

16 WISDOM OF ALFRED. [lET.
The bishop also presided in it with the earl, (so early
was the spiritual combined Avith the civil authorities
in this kingdom,) Avhose rank was the highest in the
order of thanes. Before the time of Alfred the Great
this nobleman ruled in the county Avith the power of
a petty king, since all affairs, civil as well as military,
Avere Avithin his absolute control. Such power Al
fred, Avith that Avisdom which distinguished all his
actions and his laws, considered too much to be
vested in the person of any subject; and, as some
counterpoise, he appointed a sheriff in each shire,
who, in all matters of jurisprudence, should have an
equal authority, and should guard the dues of the
croAVTi from any abuses or misappropriation.
During the early periods of the Heptarchy the
sovereign might nominate the earl of a county, and
could deprive him of his rank, if he wilfully suffered
a notorious robber to escape justice ; but in process
of time he was more frequently elected at the shire
gemot, a general court, by the voice of the fi'eehold-
ers of land ; and Alfred, who was so true a friend to
liberty that he left it recorded in his Avill, that a
native of England "should be free as his own
thoughts," Avas nevertheless too Avise to fancy that
real liberty could be long maintained if it degene
rated into licentiousness. He supported, therefore,
the full power vested in the freeholder of land, Avho
had a stake in the country ; but never did he suffer
power to fall into the hands of the mob, certain that
the base in spirit Avill ever be the turbulent in action ;
and therefore, even for their own sakes, ought to be
held in subjection. Well would it be for modern po
liticians (thoiigh to say so uoav is an offence), did they
think it possible they might be taught some Avisdom

XXII.] ANCIENT OFFICE OF EARL., 17
even by our Saxon ancestors ; for though the mob
may now be more enUghtened, yet whether they
have learned to know Avhat is good for themselves
may yet be questionable ; and unless morals keep
pace with knowledge, the acquisition ofthe latter Avill
but teach them to act their " old sins " Avith more
cunning, but not Avith less ferocity, or with less ill
effects than in the most barbarous times. In proof
of this, Avitness the French Revolution of forty years
ago, when the mob of enlightened Paris and else-
Avhere bathed themselves in blood, as if in their na
tural element.
The office of earl Avas not at first hereditary, though
in process of years it became such by the increasing
fitness, learning, and wealth of the aristocracy. In
times of Avar the earl assumed the title of duke, or
heretoge, a title which signified a leader.* He Avas
a member also of the Wittenagemote, or assembly
of Avise men, the parhament of the Anglo-Saxons.
Such was the rank and office of Orgar, the founder
of our abbey, the father of Elfrida ; and ere Ave turn
to the history of that monastic building, it Avill be
proper to say something respecting that of the earl
and his celebrated daughter.
Indeed, the story of Elfrida forms so striking a
feature in the history of this place, and as one par
ticular event connected Avith it has been a subject of
discussion Arith antiquaries, there needs no apology
for here reverting even to those very circumstances
which are already so well known.
The daughter of Orgar, Earl of Devon, had ac
quired such reputation for her charms, that it excited
the curiosity and interest of the king, whose passion-
* Heretoge or Duke; words which, the former derived from the
Saxon, and the latter from the Latin, equally signify a leader.

18 STORY OF ELFRIDA [lET.
ate admiration of beauty had already induced him
to commit many immoral actions, which Dunstan
(then Archbishop of Canterbury, and the keeper of
his conscience) let pass on terms of easy reprehen
sion ; though for a marriage contracted within what
the Church of Rome pleased to consider a prohibited
degree, he had, in the former reign, persecuted Arith
the utmost bitterness the youthful and royal pair,
EdAvy and Elgiva. But Edgar was more friendly to
the vieAvs of the primate, and to the monks; and
was, also, as hard upon the married clergy as Dun
stan could desire he should be. To treat, therefore,
his amours Avith lenity, or to absolve them on the
easiest possible penance, might have been consi
dered as a grateful return for obUgations such as
these. In order to satisfy his curiosity, Edgar deputed
his friend and favourite. Earl Ethelwold, to visit El
frida at her father's palace, Avhich was situated in or
near Tavistock; and Ethehvold, as we shaU pre
sently find, being considerably older than the young
lady, perhaps there was not so much imprudence in
the act as, on the first view, might be suspected.
The object of the favourite's journey was to ascertain
if she might really be possessed of that surpassing
beauty which fame had ascribed to her, and if so, to
offer her, on the part of the king, a croAvn, as queen
and consort of England. We see, by this, that
Edgar must have entertained a very good opinion of
his friend's taste; and Ave also see that he acted
quite in character, and evinced no other desire in
taking a Arife than of finding her very handsome.
Such a motive, when it stands alone, has nothing in
it of that delicacy which gives grace and dignity to
the youthful passion of love ; since we hear nothing

XXII.] AND ETHELWOLD. 19
of Edgar's being anxious to ascertain if she were
good as weU as fair, and possessed those amiable
¦qualities of mind, which are beauties of so high an
order, that they will not only survive the attractions
of outward form and feature, but render Avoman in
her decline scarcely less dear and estimable than in
the blossom or flower of her youth.
Ethelwold, no doubt, set off with every intention
to execute his charge honestly towards the king; but
the poet Avrites —
" Friendship is constant in all other things, '
Save in the office and affairs of love :
Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues.
Let every eye negotiate for itself,
And trust no agent ; for beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood."
Edgar had yet to learn this lesson, and Shakspeare
was not then born to teach it.
The court of Orgar, equal in splendour to that of
many of the Saxon princes, received its greatest
lustre from the personal character of its lord. Mu
nificent and courteous, zealous for the church, brave
and noble, Orgar, indeed, was a man whose alUance
might be sought by Edgar as one the most honour
able the age and the kingdom could afford. Nor
was he, at this period, less happy in his domestic than
in his pubhc fortunes. His son Ordulph, of gigantic
stature and strength,* possessed a courage not infe
rior in proportion to those extraordinary physical
powers with which it was combined. He was, also,
of such eminent piety that, according to the monkish
historians. Heaven deigned to visit him Avith visions
and dreams ; to one of Avhich, hereafter to be told,
• The thigh bone of Ordulph is still preserved in Tavistock church.

20 STORY OF ELFRIDA [lET.
we are indebted for the foundation of our abbey on
the banks of his native Tavy.
Elfrida Avas the only daughter of this illustrious
earl. Young, lovely, and living in comparative se
clusion under Orgar's care, amidst the shadowy
ffroves and sweet retirement of Devon, she had not
yet known those temptations, which, in after years,
awaking in her bosom the passions of pride, self-will,
and ambition, led her, step by step, to the commis
sion of those foul crimes that, however much her
outward form might resemble a spirit of light, cast
over her soul a darkness that rendered it fit for
those regions Avhere hope never comes.
At the time Ethelwold first beheld her, it is most
likely he saw nothing in her that could lead him to
suspect she vvas less amiable than beautiful. Pie
saw and loved her for her surpassing fairness.
Beauty is considered by moralists and divines as a
dangerous gift : no doubt it is so unless it is go
verned by those precepts of virtue and religion
Avhich render it harmless. Yet, Avhen thus governed,
surely, as the gift of God, it must be numbered
amongst his blessings. There is a law to regulate
all things of the earth and of the spirit. The " hea
venly arch " that hangs above our heads, and com
passes the Avhole celestial spheres, is beautiful with
order and Arith light, and, as tho stay of all creation,
is obedient to the Hand that raised it. That " hea
venly arch" exalts not itself, but its Maker. So
should it be Avith human beauty ; and, Avhen so con
sidered, to condemn the fair gift of an infinite and
wise Disposer of all gifts is as great a folly as it would
be to censure, or to look Avith indifference on a de
Ughtful landscape, or to prefer the hard and barren

XXII.] AND ETHELWOLD. 21
ground to mountain and valley clothed Arith Avood,
and lovely in the mantle of its verdure and its flow
ers. It is the pride, the contempt, the vain heart and
the wandering eye, to which ill-governed beauty so
often gives birth, that becomes an offence to God,
and injurious to man, not the thing itself. Had
Elfrida remembered that she Avas formed after the
image of her Creator ; that her body might be as a
temple, pure and fitted for His holy spirit, she might
have lived and died in innocence, and have even
taken a harmless deUght in her OAvn loveliness the
same as a child may do, who smiles to see its own
rosy smiles reflected in a glass.
Ethehvold thus captivated by her charms, unmind
ful of his ' honour and unfaithful to his trust, de
manded her hand not for Edgar, but himself. Orgar,
ignorant of the more elevated fortune to which his
daughter was justly entitled by the intentions of the
king, and ih aU probability deeming his favourite an
advantageous match for her, consented, provided
Ethelwold might gain Edgar's approval of the mar
riage. Besides the respect Avhich Orgar Avished to
shoAV the king, there might be some policy in thus
referring to him to sanction the proposal of the
favourite ; since the time had not yet arrived that
rendered a Saxon earl of a shire in a great measure
independent of any authority higher than his OAvn.
The king had then the power to nominate the alder
man of a county ; the office Avas not yet hereditary
in its succession ; so that the reigning prince might
become troublesome should he take offence at any
act that bordered on too much independence of his
wiU. To obtain Edgar's consent to marry the very

22 STORY OF ELFRIDA [lET.
woman Ethelwold had been deputed to visit on his
account, must have been a difficulty which none but
a crafty man Avould have attempted; as, by a fair
statement of the case, the enamoured earl must have
been certain such consent would be withheld. De
spairing of success by honest means, Ethehvold had
recourse to artifice : and as such schemes generally
end in open shame or misery, even so was it in this
instance ; since, in obtaining his object by falsehood,
he did but eventually " commend the poisoned cha-
Uce to his own Ups." He now abused the king's
ear with the report, that though Elfrida was fair,
her beauty was not equal to the celebrity it had
acquired ; no doubt her rank and fortune had been
the cause of her personal attractions being thus
magnified by the common voice of fame. And he
took occasion to intimate, that though such advan
tages could be of no value to the king, they would
be of great benefit to a nobleman of his court, and
finaUy requested permission to marry her himself,
as a means of raising his fortune. The king, sus
pecting no deceit, consented ; and the marriage was
solemnized; but Ethelwold, fearful of the conse
quence, held his bride in the utmost seclusion in
Devon, lest, meeting the eye of Edgar, her fair face
should at once betray the artifice by which he had
made her his own.
But however much he might labour to hide it,
Ethelwold's falsehood could not long be concealed.
Some, no doubt, were glad to avail themselves of
this fault, to effect his downfaU; for never was a
king's favourite yet found without enemies. The
sUghted or discontented courtiers hate him from
envy; the ambitious desire his removal to make

XXU.] AND ETHELWOLD. 23
way for themselves; and the vulgar, who fear to
fasten their complaints on a higher quarter, wiU
assign to his influence most acts of misgovernment
and ascribe to him whatever motive may suit their
own humours. No sooner had Edgar received the
intimation that his confidence had been abused, than
he resolved to discover the truth. For this purpose
he went to Exeter; and thence sent word to the
Earl of Devon, Arith Avhom Elfrida and her husband
were residing, that, he designed speedily to be Avith
him, to hunt in the forest of Dartmoor adjoining.
The guilty Ethelwold, suspecting the true cause of
the royal visit, noAV found that confidence which
had enabled him to act with such dupUcity, in a
moment forsake him : he had no resource left ; but,
acquainting his Arife Arith the truth, entreated her
by the plainness of her dress, to conceal her charms
as much as possible from the eyes of a monarch
whose susceptible and Ught disposition would so
little enable him to resist them.
Elfrida promised compliance ; but, prompted by
vanity, and by resentment towards her husband for
haidng been the means to deprive her of a crown,
she used every art to set forth her beauty to the
greatest advantage, and inflamed the king Arith so
violent a passion, that he resolved to revenge him
self on his perfidious favourite. On the foUoAring
moming, Avhilst they were hunting, he watched an
opportunity, and taking Ethelwpld at an advantage,
slew him ; and at a place in Dartmoor forest called
Wilverley, since Warlwood, the earl was found slain
with an arrow, or, according to Malmesbury, run
through the body Arith a javeUn.
That historian, also, states, that the iUegitimate

24 STORY OF ELFRIDA ['

LET.

son of Ethehvold approached the king immediately
after the commission of his father's murder, and on
Edgar's asking him "How he liked that kind of
game?" barbarously and servilely repUed, "Well,
my sovereign liege ; I ought not to be displeased
with that Avhich pleases you." The king, Avho could
be brutal enough to put such a question at such a
moment to a son, Avas quite capable of being pleased
¦vrith the unnatural answer; and the young man
from that hour succeeded to his father's place in
the royal favour, which he held tiU the death of that
monarch. From the circumstance of this iUegiti
mate son being a man grown at the time of his
father's death, we may gather that Ethelwold must
have been much older than his wife, or his mur
derer ; since Edgar, who soon after married Elfrida
(probably younger than himself,) lived with her some
years, and died at the early age of thirty-two.
EdAvard, the child of his first man-iage, succeeded
to the throne ; but Elfrida was anxious that her son
Ethelred should be king. In consequence of this
determination, about four years after Edgar's death,
she took an opportunity of ridding Ethelred of the
only impediment that stood betAveen him and the
" golden round" that she longed to see ghtter upon
his brow. For her son-in-law, EdAvard, chancing one
day to call at her castle gate, she hastened to re
ceive him ; and though the young king refused to
alight from his horse, he accepted the stirrup-cup she
offered, as the customary mark of hospitaUty. Whilst
engaged in drinking, the unfortunate EdAvard Avas,
by her order, stabbed in the back, by the hand of a
ruffian. He rode off immediately, mortally Avounded;
and at length dropped dead from his horse, near the

XXII.j MURDER OF ETHELWOLD. 25
door of a poor blind cottager; and the body was
found by Elfrida's people, who had pursued Edward
by tracking his blood. Thinking to conceal so foul
a crime, this cruel step-mother caused the corpse to
be throAvn into a Avell; but, a fcAV days after, it Avas
discovered and buried.
Such was the guilt of this miserable Avoman. It
does not appear, however, that she was accessory to
the death of Ethehvold. I am aAvare that the place
Avhere he fell has become a subject of doubt. I shaU
here, therefore, give the different opinions that may
be cited, and leave you to determine Avhich ap
proaches nearest to the truth. Prince, in his curi
ous work, the ' Worthies of Devon,' expressly says,
that Earl Ethelwold Avas killed at Wilverley, since
Warlwood, in the forest of Dartmoor. There is a
place near Dartmoor, to this day called Willsworthy ;
and Prince makes this assertion on the authority of
'Risdon's Manuscript Survey of Devon in Tarist.'
Risdon's reputation stands so deservedly high as an
antiquary, Avho in his day had examined many an
cient records, that, from whatever source he derived
his opinion, it is AVorthy attention.
William of Malmesbury, on the contrary, says that
Ethelwold was slain by Edgar whilst hunting " in
a wood at JVarewelle, or Harewood, in Dorsetshire."
But Browne, the poet, has proved, in the instance of
the river Tavy being printed the river Tau, that
the printed copies of Malmesbury differed in that
point from the manuscript one of " Malmesbury s
time," in the possession of his "learned friend
Mr. Selden." No doubt this error arose from the
carelessness of transcribers ; and if the name of one
VOL. II. c

26 MURDER OF ETHELWOLD. [lET.
place might be thus erroneously stated, even so
might be that of another.
Some antiquaries, unacquainted Avith the locaUties
of Earl Orgar's territory, and never suspecting any
printed copy of Malmesbury could be incorrect,
overlooked his error about the county, and, deter
mining to keep as close as possible to Devon, placed
the scene of Ethelwold's death on the opposite side
the river Tamar, at Harewood in Cornwall ! This,
I do not hesitate to say, is a most improbable con'
jecture; since, in order to reach it, Edgar must have
¦encountered the most formidable difficulties; those
of riding many miles about, through forests vast
and intricate, and rendered dangerous of access by
a river so broad and deep as the Tamar; for no
bridge could at any time have existed nearer than
Newbridge, a structure of a much later period :
whilst on the other hand, the forest of Dartmoor lay
contiguous to Tavistock, where Orgar, the father of
Elfrida, had a palace; and where Ethelwold and
his beautiful Avife were residing with him, Avhen
Edgar surprised them by that visit which ended so
fatally for the husband.
Some ha-^e supposed the woods of Warleigh — and
'certainly -with much better reason than those of
Harewood — to have been the scene of the murder.
To reach those woods, no river intervened to render
access to them either difficult or d^pigerous. Be
sides, they were in aU respects fitted for the pleasures
of the chase. If, hoAVever, it Avas improbable that
Edgar should cross the river into Cornwall to com
mit the murder, still less likely is it (as some anti-
¦quaries aver) that he should ride so far as into

XXII.] ELFRIDA. 27
Dorsetshire for that purpose. The historian Mal
mesbury possibly might have been mistaken when
he says that Elfrida built a nunnery at Warewelle, or
Harewood in Dorset, on the spot where her husband
was slain. After the death of her second husband
(the king who IdUed her first) she retired to Corfe
Castle, where she caused his unfortunate son to be
stabbed at her gate. He rode off, but his body was
found in a Avood in Dorsetshire, Might it not there-
¦fore, have been in consequence of this circumstance
that, after she was aAvakened to remorse, she erected
the nunnery in expiation of so atrocious a crime ?
The death of Ethelwold probably cost her no re
morse, since there is no evidence that she had any
share in that murder*.
As a strong confirmation of this opinion, I shall
here cite the follovring passage from the Saxon
Chronicle. "This year" (978,) "King Edward
-was slain at Corfes-geat (Corfe Castle) in the evening
of the 15th of the Calends of April, and he was
buried at Wareham without any royal honours. No
Avorse deed than this had been committed amongst
the people of the Angles since they first came to the
land of Britainf." Now, Avhen Ave recollect that
Malmesbury says Elfrida built her nunnery at Ware-
Avelle wood, in Dorsetshire ; that Edward dropt dead
-from his horse in a Avood, and was buried as above
stated, I cannot help thinking Warewelle and Ware-
ham were contiguous, and that the nunnery Avas erected
on the spot where his body was found, and not Ethel-
"¦ Bapin says Elfrida founded two nunneries as an atonement for
. her crimes ; one at Ambresbury in Wilts, and the other at Warewelle
or Whorwel in Dorset.
t Miss Gurney's translation, ¦
c2

28 ELFRIDA. [let.
Avoid.* It is absolutely necessary in all doubtful
points to compare one fact Arith another, as the
most carefril chronicler Arill sometimes fall into an
error ; or mistakes (as BroAvne discovered in Malmes
bury) may have been committed for him in tran
scription. Whilst in Britanny, by an attentive ex
amination of the localities of Auray, we discovered
an error made even by Froissart, respecting the spot
Avhere the great battle Avas fought betAveen De Blois
and De Montfort. For Avant of collating, even
Hume committed a mistake about Elfrida ; for, when
speaking of her marriage, he says she was the
daughter and heir of the Earl of Devon ; this could
not have been the case, as her brother Ordulph Avas
then liring.
Elfrida, about the time she built the nunnery at
Warewelle, Avas not only held in execration by the
people of England, but she became a prey to a state
of remorse bordering on despair. Her alarmed con
science represented to her imagination a fiend that
Avas ever present before her eyes, on the Avatch to
seize her soul to convey it to a place of torture. Her
days and nights became horrible ; and she was heard
to shriek and Avail, as if endeavouring to escape the
gi'asp of this imaginary phantom. She clothed her
self Avith such armour as Avas then considered invul
nerable to the shafts of infernal maUce — a robe
covered Avith crosses : and, giving herself up to the
rigors and seclusion of her nunnery, she there died a
miserable, but striking example of the retributive
* Though Edward the Martyr was buried at M'areham, he did not
Itmg rest there; for, in 980, the Saxon Chronicle states that "St.
Diinstan and the Alderman j^ilfhere fetched the body of the holy
King St. Edward from Wareham, and brought it with great pomp to
Shaftesbury."

XXII.J ELFRIDA. 29
justice of Heaven, Avhich thus visited her crimes
by the bitter and enduring agonies of remorse.
Before I quit the subject of EdAvard's murder, I
cannot resist giving the foUoAving passage from the
Saxon Chronicle, as it serves to shoAV Avitli what just
indignation the crime was considered. In speaking
of his death, that venerable record says — " His mor
tal kinsmen would not avenge him, but his Heavenly
Father hath avenged him greatly. His earthly mur
derers would have blotted out his meniory from the
world, but the avenger, who is above, hath Avidely
extended his fame in heaven and earth : and Avhereas
they formerly would not boAV down before his liring
body, noAV they piteously bend their knees to his
dead bones."
So universal was the consternation Avith Avhich all
Avere seized on hearing of this event, that no man,
after such an example of treachery, held his life to
be safe. The murder, too, had been committed in
violation of the common laAvs of hospitality hitherto
considered sacred. Deep drinking, the vice of the
age, Avhich both the Saxons and the Danish ma
rauders had contributed to render familiar, Avas, for
awhile, discontinued ; since no one Avould trust him
self in the unguarded posture of partaking of the
social, cup, for fear it should be follovved by the blow
of an assassin. Hence, as we are told by Malmes
bury, each man before he tasted of the "wassail
bowl" required a pledge from his companion that he
Avould watch over and protect him whilst engaged in
the act. By all antiquaries this is considered the
origin of the familiar expression of pledging, or de
siring another to partake first ofthe cup.
I have already alluded to Mason's Elfrida ; and

30 mason's ELFRIDA. {lET:
that, foUoAring the popular error, he had laid the
scene of his drama in Harewood forest, in Cornwall.
TMs, however, is a trifling mistake compared to
Miss Seward's ; who, in one of her letters, on visit
ing GaAvthorpe Hall, the seat of Lord Harewood, in
Yorkshire, talks about " the poignancy of her sensa
tions," "Harewood's glassy waters" shining through
" tangled brakes in the glens," " expanding into
lakes" and " sleeping on lawns," whilst all the charm
of these delights she experienced on this "classic
ground" (situated in Yorkshire) was conveyed by
its connexion with the story and the drama of
Elfrida! Mason took liberties enough Arith that
istory to destroy almost all historical truth ; and Miss
Seward goes a step beyond him : for she, something
Uke Mr. Bayes's prologue, Avhere the sun, moon, and
earth dance the hays, makes Yorkshire take the place
of Devonshire with no more ado than the flourish of
a pen. I notice this out of no motive of disparage-.
ment to Miss Seward, of whose Avritings (excepting
this letter about Harewood) 1 know very little. But
she has reputation : and, therefore, so gross an error
ought to be remarked, lest it should mislead those
who, being under the dominion of " a name," may
think what such a lady as Miss Seward asserts must
be true.
Wishing to refresh my memory respecting what
Mason had made ofthe story of Elfrida, I last night
read his drama, and his letters on the subject of his
composing it on the Greek model; and though his
play contains some very beautiful poetry, as I closed
the book, I coidd not help feeling the truth of what
was so long ago said by Horace— " Incredulus odi."
Poems, dramas, and romances, though each, Avhen

XXII.] mason's ELFRIDA. 31
founded on historical subjects, affords the greatest
delight, should I think, if I may venture to give any
opinion, be always made subservient to some useful
pui-pose ; and should never falsify the truth of his
tory in any reaUy important point. In many works,
as the historical plays of Shakspeare, and the histo
rical novels of Sir Walter Scott, information and
instruction accompany delight. Who, for instance;
has ever read Coriolanus or Julius Caesar, without
becoming familiarly acquainted with some of the
most interesting characters and events of the Roman
history? or Henry IV. and Henry VIIL Avithout
feeUng as if he Avere living in the very days of those
Princes ? And Avho has ever read " Old Mortality,"
and many other of those masterly and lively fictions,
Arithout becoming famiUar with the spirit of the
times therein described, and fancying himself carried
back to the very scenes in which the characters of the
story bore so prominent a part ?
But this praise can scarcely be given to Mason,
who in his drama of Elfrida preserved little more of
truth in his historical characters than their names ;
and has consequently perverted facts. He tells us,
in his letters, that a chorus ought to be introduced in
every tragedy, "to advance the cause of honesty
and of truth," and that, for want of this, an audience
\riU often go from a play Arith very false impressions.
To follow the rule he has thus laid down, he ought
to have made his OAvn chorusses in Elfrida have but
one burthen to thefr songs, and it should have been —
" This story is all false ;" then neither audience nor
reader could have mistaken the matter. For if truth
be in historical fiction what the soul is to the body —
the cause of its usefalness, its ritality, and its in-

32 mason's ELFRIDA. [lET.
terest in a moral view, we may say, comparatively,
of the flowers of poetry which Mason has so abun
dantly scattered throughout his drama of Elfrida,
that they are but as flowers scattered upon a corpse.
No female character throughout the whole history
of this country is stained with a Avorse crime than that
of Elfrida : yet Mason represents her as if she had
been as gentle and as amiable as a Lady Jane Grey;
and as constant and as virtuous in her love to her
husband Ethelwold, as a Lady Rachel Russel.
Though Elfrida had purposely set off her charms
Avith art to allure the king, and became immediately
after her husband's death the vrife of his murderer,
yet the poet ends the play by making her swear to
die a widow for Ethelwold's sake ! and the vow is
echoed by the chorus, stationed on the scene to
"advance the cause of truth" with the reader or
spectator. It may also be remarked, that the poet
has gained nothing by thus falsifying historical facts,
since the true story is more suited to the muse of
tragedy, whose emblems, the dagger and the poi
soned bowl, proclaim her to be the queen of terror.
It is also more replete with dramatic interest than
his alterations ; and if he Avanted fiction, he might
have resorted to it Avithout the change of a single
event. The monastic character of the times would
have opened to him a fine field ; and the supersti
tious legends, then so generally credited, would have
furnished him Avith a sufficient apology, had he in
troduced an old monk, Arith a black coavI and a long
beard, who, like the chorus, might have been made
a sort of monitor to the passions of the scene ; and
Avho, in his prophetic character, (for prophecy and
visions Avere common Avith the monks,) might have

xxu. J mason's elfrida. 33
Avarned or foretold Elfrida the miseries that Avould
follow as the consequences of her pride, her cruelty,
and her ambition.
But I have done ; for though a little angry with
Mason for altering and perverting the story of our
Tavistock heroine, no one admires him more than
I do ; and if he had never Avritten any thing else,
such noble poetry as we find in his Caractacus
Avould have placed him in the first rank of modern
bai-ds. This letter haring extended much farther than I
designed it should when I took up the pen, I must
defer the account of the Abbey till another op
portunity : in the interval, aUow me to remain.
My dear Sir,
With respectful esteem.
Very faithfully yours,
Anna E. Bray.

c3

34

LETTER XXIII.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

Contents. — Religious influence on the character of Nations — That
of Pagan countries contrasted with Christian — Saxon Church — On
the spirit ofthe old Catholic Faith; — Its great benefits to this Coun
try — Its defects — Monasteries eminently useful — How beneficial to
the education of Youth — Religious Spirit of the Monasteries —
Their destruction in this Country deeply deplored — The opinion ot
Montesinos on the subject quoted — The subject continued, and the
benefit of places of religious retirement further considered — Dis
advantages of the Monastic Life to some particular dispositions;
to whom dangerous— Credulity the character of former Ages; its
opposite of the present — The influence of spiritual agency, ever
active though unseen — The dead may appear to the living —
Dreams, not on all occasions to be held in contempt — Sometimes
show the agency of the Spiiits of God— Addison's opinion of
dreams ; Bishop Bull's given — Dreams exaggerated, sometimes iu-
ventedby the old Chroniclers — Tavistock Abbey had its origin from
a dream— Orgar fotinder of that Abbey — Ordulph his Son— The
dream related — Benedictines— Augustines — Ordulph's wonderful
acts as related by Malmesbury— A ruined arch described ; the only
remaining fragment of the once magnificent Abbey Church of Tavi
stock— erroneously called ;Childe's Tomb — Amusing story of old
Childe's Horse — Friars of Plymstock — Their ctmuing- Guile
Bridge— Abbey, to whom dedicated— St. Rumon ; his History-
Abbey Church iinished and dodicated—Ethelred's Charter— Ai
mer the first Abbot.

Vicarage, Tavistock, June 11, 1832.
My DEAR Sir,
Before entering upon the history of our
Abbey, in its foundation, its prosperity, and its
overthroAV, I may, perhaps, be pardoned if I still en-

let. xxiii.] NATIONAL CHARACTER. 35
deaA'our, by a few prefatory remarks, to keep in riew
the general state of morals and religion, since abbeysj
and toAvns, like the fortunes of individuals, are in a
very great degree indebted for their prosperity or
their decline to the state of the country in Avhich they
exist. And I cannot but repeat that in all these let^
ters I bear in mind the possibility that they may one
day take their chance in the ¦world of letters. Such
being the case, I Avi-ite about many things Avhich I
•should not venture to touch upon Arith you, did I
not think that, to the mere general reader, they may
hereafter be of some little interest. This, therefore,
is my apology for Avhat I am now about to say.
AU nations throughout the world, more or less,
take their character from their religion ; and it fol^
lows, as a necessary consequence, that where true
reUgion is best practised and understood, there wiU
men become the best and the most enlightened.
The gods of barbarous nations are represented as
iierce and bloody, and the barbarian is both. Those
of Greece and Rome were AvarUke and luxurious, and
the people were remarkable for war and luxury.
And though they had amongst them a few such ad-
.mirable persons as Socrates and Marcus Antoninus,
yet the general character of their greatest and thefr
best men was essentiaUy different from that of the
Christian philosopher.
The gentler rirtues, the self-subduing spirit, in
culcated by Christianity, which makes forgiveness of
an enemjr, and the returning good for evil, duties of
the noblest land, Avere unknown ; and we therefore
find no such men amongst the heathen worthies as
our good Bishop Andrews, our Hooker, our Jeremy
Taylor, or those humble and devout martyrs who.

36 SPIRIT OF THE [lET.
Avith a courage that equalled any ever displayed by
the heroes of antiquity, had yet the meekness and
the tenderness of the dove, that beautiful emblem of
that holy spirit which dwelt Arithin and sanctified
both thefr hearts and minds. In the modern nations
of the East Ave find a religion in which tyranny,
sensuality, and slavery have each a place ; and the
Turks, we knoAV, are remarkable for every one of
those rices. To extend similar observations as far
as they might be carried would exceed the limits or
the purpose for which they are here introduced,
since they alone are ventured in support of the
opinion, that the better character of the Saxons as a
people, and the progi-ess they so rapidly made in
civilization, after thefr settlement in this kingdom,
must be attributed to their conversion to Chris
tianity. We haA'e traced the various modes of worship
Avhich were introduced and practised in this part of
England from the time of the Britons to that of the
Saxons ; and these, like all other diversities of re
ligion, shoAV that it is natural in man during this his
pilgrimage of labour and sorrow, to look up to some
supreme poAver with the eye of hope. But such
false creeds had no beneficial effects on his moral
character, because they neither enlightened his un
derstanding nor touched his heart.
The introduction of Christianity was, therefore, in
every way a blessing ; and notwithstanding the set
ting up traditions and inventions of men as even of
more import than the Avritten word of God, rendered
it both corrupt and superstitious, yet the history of
this country Arill serve to show how powerfully and
how happUy, even in this state, Christianity acted on

XXIII.] OLD CATHOLIC FAITH. 37
society at large. It was as the dawn of day after
a long and black night. But it Avas reserved for
the Reformation to dispel every noxious vapour of
human opinion that arose from the earth, and to go
forth Avith the splendour of an unclouded sun, when
there Avas " perfect day."
It Avas the observation of Cicero, in censure of the
poet, that, instead of raising men to live after the
manner of the gods. Homer brought heaven down
to earth, and made the gods live after the manner of
men. The same kind of censure may be passed on
the inventors of the Romish frauds and traditions ;
for the things they added to the truth are more of
earth than of the spirit, and were most flattering to
human passion, whilst, adding many deities to their
creed (for surely they made the Virgin and the saints
such), they taught them to be propitiated with rich
gifts more after the manner of worldly princes than
as inhabitants of heaven.
There are many who deem it uncharitable to speak
thus of a church which acknowledges the Son of God
as its Head. Let such, however, have but an ac
quaintance Avith the interior of a convent ; let them
enter into free conversation with the best and the most
rational there bound by irrevocable vows, and if their
heart and soul does not sicken at the superstitions
they wiU there both hear and see, they can have no
just sense of the faith they themselves profess, or of
that true charity which, though it may pity the indi
viduals Avho are the rictims of such credulity, feels
no obligation not to visit Arith severe censure those
things which are an offence to God's honour, since
they are a perversion of his revealed word.
And thus haring endeavoured to show that I am

38 MONASTERIES. [lET-
neither dazzled nor misled by the poetic and ima
ginative character of the Church of Rome, (for herg
is the l^est calculated of all reUgions for poetry and
romance,) I shall A^enture a few remarks on the
benefits of monastic institutions, as they existed, till
we had the pure faith restored to us in this country;
If our Protestant faith (as the Romanists charge
against it) have more lax members than the old re
Ugion, if it have many sectaries, and if, alas, many
infidels have sprung up among us since the Reform
ation, the fault is not in the thing itself It is a
fault that may be charged, perhaps, to an excess of
one of its chief vfrtues^ — its perfect toleration; in
other words, to its Avant of that severe discipline,
(which, Avhilst the Roman faith held sway, aUowed
no such practices, by claiming and holding a power
over the conscience of all men,) the smallest exercise
of which in our church would now be reckoned msuf-
ferable tyranny. But no abuse of any thing cau
affect the thing itself : medicine is a blessing to man
kind, though there are quacks and pretenders who
sometimes make it a curse. Bread is the staff" of
Ufe, though, as an old Avriter truly observes, its adul
teration AvUl make it no better than a crutch to help
a man to the grave.
That monasteries, in former ages, were eminently
usefiil cannot, I think, be denied. In those early
times Avhen the art of printing was unknoAvn, aU learn
ing Avas found within the cloister. The regularity,
the repose, and the leisure of a monastic life Avere
absolutely necessary to the preservation and the cul
ture of letters. Every monastery, also, had its school,
and the norices were, in many instances, scholars.
The sons of princes and. nobles were generally edu-

XXIII.] . MONASTERIES. 39
cated Arithin the walls ; and no rank or station was
held to be above obedience to the church. There
youth were instructed, and those habits of submis
sion, so salutary in themselves, so necessary for in
diridual happiness, (since it is by obeying others
that men learn to master their own passions,) were
inculcated as a first and essential duty. Youth did
not then, Arith the frowardness so often seen in mo
dern times, bm'st those restraints which were in
tended not to curb the spirit, but the waywardness
of unripened years. And age, as in the patri
archal state, was looked up to with that deference
and respect which wisdom, derived fi-om experience
— ^its most certain source — ^is ever entitled to com
mand. There is something beautifid in the picture
of a young man, Arith aU his ardour, his golden hopes,
and airy imaginings, standing silent with modesty,
in the presence of the aged, and listening to those
counsels that are to guide his future com-se.
Regularity, Arithout which there is little profit in
study, Avas rigidly enforced by those minute rules
. that gave to each hour its appropriate task, its du
ties, and its relaxations. Young men of talent, but
¦ Arith half-knowledge, flippancy, and conceit, did not
. then fancy that in matters of religion, or of civU go
vernment, they could carve out a Avay for themselves
that Avould be better than the old road trodden by
thefr fathers. There was then Uttle or no infidelity :
for the student did not doubt those sacred truths
Avhich were above his capacity or his years ; nor did he
presume to fix bounds and Umits to the all-Arise pro
A'idence of God, or to make the greatest things the
least, by measuring them after the standard of his
own ignorance. Singularity was not then mistaken

40 MONASTERIES. [lET.
for superiority ; consequently it did not raise a false
ambition in the weak and the vain to become singular,
or to show their oAvn folly in the effort to be wise
beyond that Avhich Avas Avritten for their learning.
Obedience to rulers, governors, and parents was,
Arith them, the promise in the spring-time of their
days ; and honour and wisdom became their summer
¦fruits. HoAv beautiful an example have Ave of this
in the life of the great and good Sir Thomas More,
who always, on first seeing his father for the day,
knelt doAvn and reverently begged his blessing.
" Train up a child in the way he should go,'" sayS
Solomon, " and ¦when he is old he ¦will not depart from
it." This Avas done, according to the religion of the
times, and the child, from early habit, found sub
mission no state of bondage.
NothAvithstanding the faults and superstitions of
a monastic education, this early habit of obedience,
as a religious duty, Avas to it as the salt of the whole ;
and the heroes of chivalry Avere thus prepared to
foUoAV, Avithout a murmur, through pain, toil, and
death, Avherever the call of duty — even though its
object might sometimes be mistaken — should sum
mon them to appear. The knights who, amid the
arid and burning sands of Syria, rescued from in
fidels, at the call of a hermit, the sacred sepulchre of
Jerusalem, afford a striking instance of that devoted
spirit of obedience Avhich men in those times thought
it their chief glory to pay to their religion.
The little child Avho was to receive education
Avent daily to the convent school ; and old age fre
quently took the vows, and made choice of its abode
Arithin the waUs. . There is something pecuUarly
touching in the extremes of human existence. Both

XXIII.] MONACHISM. 41
call forth tenderness and pity ; for, in a great mea
sure, both are helpless. We surely may consider
them as more especially the care of Providence ;
since a creature in the dawn of life, or near its close,
could not for a single hour sustain, unassisted, his
OAvn weakness.
To him, Avhose strong desu-es Avere not of the flesh,
but fixed on the spirit Avhich is immortal — a spirit
which sees God in the sacred ordinances of his
church, and listens to those h3nnns and holy psalms
that speak his praise, as if they were the responses
of "quiring angels," — there was a beauty and a
majesty in the house of the Lord, "The temple
where His honour dAvelleth," that not the castles of
nobles, nor the palaces of princes could afford ; and
there he sought his rest.
But such a retreat Avas Avelcome, above all, to
such as had experienced the losses and cares inse
parable to long Ufe : those bereavements of the heart
that AVOund it, and weigh doAvn the spirit ; so that
the mourner is as one Avho rests at the door of death,
and Avaits most wiUingly to enter — and yet it Avill
not open to him. All visible objects Avere insuffi
cient to afford comfort or consolation to such as these ;
till the holy quiet found within the cell gave peace
to souls thus Aveary and heavy laden. They had
leisure to meditate on God; and fixing his image in
their hearts, the void occasioned by time was fiUed
with the things of eternity.
In the cloister, too, the sage, Avhose learned toils
had no earthly praise for their object, and no reAvard
but that with which such sweet labours repay them
selves, felt, as he contemplated the emblems of the
sacred sufferings before his eyes, that all human

42 MONACHISM. [let.
knowledge, in whatever path pursued, has but one
desired end — to know Jesus Christ and him crucified
for the sins of the whole Avorld. Kings " worn with
the cares of state," sometimes came to end their
days, and "lay thefr bones" within these monastic
waUs, and cast down thefr croAvns at the foot of Him
whose diadem Avas one of thorns. The poor, the
abject, the despised, the very beggar who took his
alms, and left his benizon at the convent door, as he
lay prostrate before the cross, felt how ennobling
was the humility of a Christian — a humility that
raised him from earth to heaven.
Such, perhaps, is the fafr side of the picture, in the
earUest and the best state of monachism, before
those gross superstitions and frauds — which gra
dually crept in — produced its ruin in this country ;
and, but for such crimes, these institutions might,
even to this day, have been spared, in a Umited
degree, as a refuge and a blessing to the old, the
learned, the pious, and the friendless.
" Hermits," says Sir Thomas More, " as well as
monks, Montesinos, have been useful in their day.
Your state of society is not the better because it
provides no places of religious retirement for those
who desire and need it."
" Certainly not," repUes Montesinos, " I consi'
der the dissolution of the reUgious houses as the
greatest evil that accompanied the Reformation."
" Take from such communities," says Sir Thomas
More, "thefr irrevocable voavs, their onerous laws,
their ascetic practices; cast aAvay their mythology,
and Avith it the fi-auds and foUies connected there
with, and how beneficial would they then be found !
What opportunities would they afford to Uterature,

XXIII.] MONACHISM. 43
what aid to devotion, what refuge to affliction, what
consolation to humanity."
"And what relief to society," adds Montesinos,
" which as it becomes more crowded in its walks, and
as education and inteUigence are more and more
diffused, must, in every succeeding generation, feel
more pressingly the want of such institutions !" And
after stating the erils to which in Roman CathoUc
countries nunneries are Uable, and shewing that, but
for the "weighty advantages" which accompany
them, they would not be tolerated even in such
lands of superstition, he concludes with this most
just observation : " How easily might those advan
tages be obtained in communities founded upon the
principles of our own church, and liable to no such
erils*." Certain it is that a state of seclusion never was,
and never AriU be suited to all tempers and minds.
The great evil of monachism was its want of discri
mination in this respect. If temporary disgust, some
present care, or some worldly interest, had been the
cause of consigning a human being to the convent
walls, and those cfrcumstances passing away, for
gotten or reconciled, he grew tired of his retreat,
and Avould gladly have returned again to take a part
more congenial to liis natural character in actiA'e
Ufe, his " irrevocable vows" became to him a chain
of adamant, that held him, like Prometheus bound
to a rock, Avhilst discontent, as a vxdture, preyed
upon his heart. Thus Avas his retreat a state of
slavery, not of profit, or of devotion ; and he was as
Avorthless to others as he was miserable to himself;
* See Colloquies ou the Progress and Prospects of Society. Vol. i.
page 338.

44 EVILS OF MONACHISM. [lET.
since a large degriee of mental ease, of comparative
happiness, is necessary to render men useful in
society ; a despairing can never be an active mind,
for a withered tree bears no fruit.
Another eril attending the monastic rule was,
that the recluse Avas more freed than he ought to
have been from the numberless minor duties and
occupations of daily life that are so salutary even to
the most gifted minds ; and, to ordinary ones, are as
necessary to keep them in health, as exercise is
to the body, or sleep to the composure of the
spirits. To have the mind always bent on high
thoughts, on the inrisible world or its mysteries,
never can be consistent with the designs of nature ;
since more than half the business of human life turns
on the performance of small matters of necessity, so
regular in themselves, that, whilst there is A'ariety
enough to prevent satiety, they are sufficiently me
chanical in their order and recurrence to become
easy in practice : they cost no effort, and give iio
pain. And there is not a greater sign of a Uttle
mind than the affectation of despising little duties.
Dr. Johnson, whose vrisdom as a philosopher Avas,
if possible, only exceeded by his Avorth as a man,
considered that one chief cause of there being fewer
women who lost their reason than men, arose from
their frequent occupation with the needle, a thing to
Avhich they could at all times turn, and almost under
any circumstances. In this he shewed his correct
knoAvledge of human nature ; since minor employ
ments, that caU forth just so much exertion of the
faculties as may prevent them from wandering or
standing still, and that alternate Avith those requiring
a more severe appUcation of the mind, are of the

XXIII.J EVILS OF MONACHISM. 45
highest benefit to every age and sex. The advan
tages of such relaxations may be seen in children ;
for the dviUest boys are seldom those who pursue
their sports and pastimes with actirity and delight.
Indeed, to make a child stupid, there is, perhaps, no
surer mode than to deprive him of his hours of play,
and of those little toils in its pursuit which he im
poses upon himself.
Thus did the idleness of the monastic life, Avith
its ordinary members, prepare the way for many
erils : for if a recluse, Avhen he became such, had no
pursuit, and foAV ideas, he Avas very likely to have
those few turned on mischief; since, however a man
may be shut out from the Avorld, unless he can shut
out the vacancy of seclusion also it Arill become dan
gerous to him ; and the lurking aptness for evil in
his OAvn nature will lead him into folly or to sin ; for
" slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep," Avhich, in
a moral riew, too often becomes the sleep of death.
But perhaps the greatest dangers of a state of
seclusion were experienced by those who, possessing
a A-irid imagination, Avould not confine its exercise to
the right objects of faith, but larished it upon those
mysteries of God which are beyond "this A'isible
diurnal sphere." Imagination is like Avine, a draught
to SAveeten life, or to drown reason — all depending
on the measure of indulgence. To speak of this
high faculty in a figurative manner, her power is
regal, and the passions stand as servants around her,
in due subjection to her Arill; but if once she per
mits them to exceed the bounds of reason, they will
hurry her along with them in their Avild career;
madness or superstition seizing upon her as a slave.
The Avanderings, the perversions of the mind, no

46 EVILS OF MONACHISM. [LET.
doubt produced many of those extravagancies and
disorders which have taken place in the worship of
that Being who is the life and soul of order ; and who
shows forth the greatness of His power in his calm
but irresistible course. Yet how miserably was the
nature of God mistaken by those ascetic devotees
Avho fancied, in the darkness of their credulity, that
voluntary misery could be pleasing to Him; and
who, in the melancholy, or the madness of thefr own
mood, dAvelt on the visions of a distempered imagi
nation, and gave them forth as the immediate reve
lations of Heaven ! To some such causes, as weU as
to actual fraud, may be attributed those false visions
and miracles that disgrace the lives of the Romish
saints and martyrs, and render the pages of the
monkish chroniclers in many instances not much
better than a garden so encumbered with weeds as
to make it difficult to separate from them Avhatever
plant is of a useful or a Avholesomekind.
But though, during the early ages, it was the ge
neral practice to ascribe remarkable events to some
supernatural cause, Ave must not hastily conclude that
all records of such a nature were fictions.
It was the character of former ages to beUeve too
much ; of our own, to believe too little : their rice
was that of credulity ; ours, of infideUty : for men
now are become so wise, at least in their own con
ceit, that Avhat they cannot understand they wUl not
credit, and what is above reason they deem con
trary to it. Yet so little do we really know concern
ing our own faculties, and of those things which,
; though before our eyes, we have no power to pene
trate, that -it should make us cautious how Ave judge
of the ways of God. There are spfrits who walk the

XXIII.] SPIRITUAL AGENCY. 47
air as we do the earth ; there are inteUigences every
Avhere about us that, as Aringed messengers of God,
perform His will, and yet we neither see nor under
stand them. To say, therefore, that such spirits
have not, and cannot, at His command become
A'isible to mortal eyes, or that the spirits of the de
parted never rerisit the earth, is to limit God's
power by the measure of our own faculties. All
things are instrmnents of his Providence; and it is
not our place to say which he may choose, or which he
may reject, to fulfil his oavu unerring purposes. The
dead may appear as they have appeared on earth ;
and who shall say it cannot be so ? How raany
strong and right impulses sway the mind of him who
seeks God, Avho knocks and it is opened to him ;
that prove themselves, in their results, to be no other
than the secret counsels of His will for His servant's
-good ! And though to credit every idle dream in
our sleep would be folly or superstition, yet, to say
God has never spoken to us even in a dream would
be to contradict the evidence of all history, sacred
and profane, and to harden the heart against the
witness of our own experience ; and all for fear of a
scoff" or a laugh from some one who would be so Arise
in his generation as to think God governs the world
after the manner of men.
But what say the good and the wise, those who ai-e
Arise because they are humble, and are as little
children before their father ? "I doubt not," says
Addison, " that dreams, though known Uars, some
times speak the truth." And Bishop Bull (who
combated superstition, and was the adversary ofthe
learned and eloquent Bossuet) thus Avrites : — " I am
no doter on dreams, yet I verily beUeve that some

48 DREAMS. [let.
dreams are monitory, above the poAver of fancy, and
impressed on us by some superior influence. Nor
shall I so value the laughter of sceptics, and the
scoff's of Epicureans, as to be ashamed to profess
that I myself have had some convincing experiments
of such impressions. Now it is no enthusiam ; but
the best account that can be given of them is, to
ascribe these things to the ministry of those invi
sible instruments of God's Proridenoe that guide
and govern our affairs and concerns — the angels of
God." The remarks here ventured arose from my
thoughts haring been turned on the subject of
dreams, by finding how much an attention to them
was the characteristic of the times about which I am
noAV to Avrite ; and as I considered it Avas my duty
to notice such characteristic, I trust they will not be
found entirely misplaced ; and that I shall not my
self be Uable to the charge of superstition, because I
am not altogether sceptical on subjects that have so
much eridence on their side. I could plead another
thing as my apology, and that comes immediately in
point ; for the foundation of our Abbey is ascribed,
according to the Cartulary of Tavistock, to a rision
or dream; though it is one of so marvellous and
monkish a kind, that I doubt not you \rill agree Avith
me in thinking it had its origin in the customary
practice and credulity of the chroniclers of the age.
Be this as it may, after consulting all the authorities
I can here command, and some original notes, (and
extracts fi-om various Avi-iters,) made by Mr. Bray, I
shall now proceed to glean from the whole the sum
and substance of the following wonderful tale.
I must first observe, however, that Orgar, Earl of

•XXIII.] ordulph's VISION. 49
Devon, died A. d. 971, and Avas interred in the
abbey church of Taristock, where his tomb, and that
of his son Ordulph, MaUnesbury states, were to be
seen in his time. As the abbey was commenced in
861, it should appear that, though the idea of its
erection originated Arith the son, yet as Orgar Avas
then alive, and, indeed, surrived him ten years, he
was considered, and Avith good reason too, as its co-
founder. Ordulph was a religious and devout man, and
rising one night, as Avas his custom, he went out of
doors to offer up his prayers. There is something so
remarkable in this, (since many of the druidical
temples, Ave know, Avere used as places of Avorship
Avith the early christians, and on that account Avere
long afterwards heldsacred,) that it would almost lead
one to suspect that some vestige of this nature Avas
the favorite resort of Ordulph forthe purposes of his
midnight devotion. Whilst engaged in the act of
prayer, he beheld in a rision a glory that seemed to
reach fi-om earth to heaven, surpassing the brilliancy
of the sun ; and he thought on the goodness of God,
who appeared to Moses in the burning bush, and
who led forth the children of Israel by day with the
pUlar of the cloud, and by night Arith that of fire.
Struck Arith awe at this mfraculous appearance,
Ordulph again retired to rest, and after shedding
many tears, sleep closed his eyes, and he beheld in a
dream a "shadow like an angel," whose countenance
Avas of exceeding brightness, who accosted him Avith
the words — Ae timeas, vir Deo dilecte. The Spfrit
then commanded him to rise and erect an oratory on
the place where he had seen the glory, and where he
should find four rods fixed at right angles, to the
VOL. II. D

50 ordulph's monastery. [let.
honour of the four evangelists, who had, as on a
four-wheeled chariot, spread the word of the gospels
throughout the world. On the fulfilment of this
command, the angelic messenger promised him the
forgiveness of his sins.
Starting from sleep, Ordulph related the rision to
his Avife ; who affirmed that she had seen the like ;
and after saying his prayers devoutly on his knees,
he once more composed himself to rest. But the
same angelic figure appeared to each a second time,
and rebuked the husband for his delay ; teUing him
that to obey was better than sacrifice. And the
same visitation being a thfrd time repeated on the
same night, Ordulph no longer hesitated. Rising,
therefore, early in the morning, and reverently
making the sign of the cross, he entered a neigh
bouring wood, where he found the precise spot that
had been revealed to him by the four rods. It was
pleasant, open, and every way suited for the purpose ;
and there he soon raised an oratory, on the Avestern
side of Avhich he afterwards founded a very magni
ficent monastery to the honour of Mary the mother
of God, and St. Rumon, and so large as to receive a
thousand men. To this he added several other
houses for the serrice of the monks, and at length
he richly endoAved it*. This noble abbey completed,
Prince, the author of the ' Worthies of Devon,' says,
" he filled it Arith Augustine friars, afterwards, from
their habit, caUed black monks." In this, as we
* With the manors of Tavistock, Midleton (now Milton), Hather-
leigh, Borington, Leghe, Dunethem, Chuvelin, Linkinhorn ; and his
wife with the manors of Hame, Werelgete, Orlege, Auri, Rame,
Savyoke, Pannaston, Tombire, Colbroke, Lege Wesithetun, and
Clymesland .

XXIII.] ORDULPH. 51
shall presently see, he must confound the Augustines
who first inhabited it, Arith the Benedictines that
soon after took their place; since in the earliest
times, the former order Avere distinguished by white
habits, though a black mantle was long after allowed
to them ; whereas the Benedictines, from their very
foundation, were clad entfrely in black. There is an
old satiric poem extant, a translation of Avhich I have
seen, of a very remote age; in Avhich the Avriter,
Avhose name I have unfortunately forgotten, having
quarreUed Avith the Augustine fi-iars, compares their
hypocritical sanctity — for so he styles it — to their
dress, and calls them " whited walls," It was my
intention to give the passage : but having neglected
to make the extract when I read the poem, I have
since vainly endeavoured to find it.
Ordulph is represented to haA'e been of gigantic
stature, and prodigious strength. Travelling to
Avards Exeter, Arith King EdAvard the Confessor, to
Avhom he was related, when they came to the gates
ofthe city they found them locked and barred, and the
porter, knowing nothing of their coming, was absent.
Upon Avhich Ordulph, leaping off his horse, took the
bars in his hands, and Arith great apparent ease
broke them in pieces, at the same tiine pulling out
part of the wall. Not content Arith this, he gave a
second proof of his strength ; for, breaking the hinges
with his foot, he laid the gates open. Whilst those
who Aritnessed this extraordinary feat could not
suppress their admiration, the King, pretending to
underrate his prowess, declared it must have been
done by the sole power of the devil, and not by the
strength of man. However wonderful this story
may appear, it is not more so than what Malmesbury
d2

52 TOMB OF ORDULPH. [lET.
relates of him in another particular — that he Avas of
such gigantic stature, that for his amusement he
Avould often bestride a river, near his residence, of
ten feet broad ; and Arith his knife Avould chop off
the heads of such AvUd animals as Avere brought to
him, and so cast them into the stream.
But notArithstanding the superiority of his strength
and stature, Ordulph died in the floAver of his age.
He gave orders to be buried at his abbey, at Her-
ton, in Dorsetshire ; but Avas interred in or near the
abbey church of Tavistock, Avhere a mausoleum or
tomb, of vast dimensions, was erected to his memory,
Avhich is represented to have been visited as a
Avonder. Prince, in his ' Worthies of Devon,' says — " There
is nothing noAV remaining of it but an arch, where,
as tradition testifies, this mighty tomb stood *.
An arch still remains in tolerable preservation on
the site of what, there is every reason to believe, had
been part of the abbey church. It bears evidently
the appearance of a shrine, or sepulchral monument;
consisting of a rich and highly relieA'ed moulding,
* " Browne Willis tells us, that in his time, the sepulchral effigies
of this Saxon giant, of great length, were still preserved by lying
under an arch in the north side of the cloisters of the abbey church.
This identical arch, as I apprehend, still remains a solitary remnant
of the immediate appendages of the abbey church. The architecture
of this recess is of the time of Henry III. And as there is no ex
ample extant which can lead us to conclude that sepulchral figures
were placed over tombs in the middle ages, till the twelfth cenfuiy,
and as it was usual to re-edify and remodel the monuments of saints
and remarkable persons (of which custom the shrine of Edward the
Confessor, now in Westminster Abbey, is a prominent example),
Ordulph's tomb, perhaps, underwent a renovation about thia period,
and was supplied with a sepulchral effigy."— Notices of Tavistock and
its Abbey, by A. J. Kempe, F.S.A.

XXIII.] CHILDE OF PLYMSTOCK. 53
supported by three short pillars at either extremity.
It is pointed at the top but spreading, and being
closed, or built so as to form part of a wall, is crossed
just above the capitals of the columns by a range of
smaU arches, supported also themselves by a row of
httle pillars on a kind of plinth.
Though Mr. Bray is rather inclined to consider it
as the tomb of Ordulph, it is generally denominated
Childe's tomb. And as the story of this latter
person, if not true, is at least curious, I shall not
scruple to introduce it here.
Having no children of his OAvn, and being the
last of his house, Avhich was of ancient standing in
the county, Childe of Plymstock is said to have
made a wUl, Avherein he devised his lands to that
church in Avhich he should happen to be buried.
Some time after, whilst recreating himself Avith hunt
ing in the forest of Dartmoor, he lost both his way
and his company, during an inclement season, in a
very deep snow. Being surrounded by desolation,
and seeing no possible means of escape, he began to
think Avhat Avas to be done to keep life and soul
together ; and as in his day the acts and miraculous
adventures of the clergy and the saints Avere much
talked of, it is not impossible he might have called
to mind one recorded of Elsinus, the Saxon Bishop
of Worcester, Avhen crossing the Alps to receive his
pall from the hands of the Pope. Be this as it may,
he determined to take up the same kind of lodging
the saint and bishop was said to have done ; and so
killing his horse, and emboweling him on the spot,
old Childe crept into the body for the purpose of
procuring a little Avarmth in his distress. But the
expedient had not saved a saint, hoAv then could it

54 MONKS OF TAVISTOCK. [lET.
be expected to preserve a sinner ? Finding his last
hour approach, Childe, in order to confirm his avUI,
took some of his OAvn blood, (though one would have
thought it was more likely to have been that of his
horse,) and made the foUoAving distich in Avriting ;
though hoAV he procured pen or paper to do so this
wonderful record has forgotten to tell :
" He that finds and brings me to my tomb.
My land of Plymstock shall be his doom."*
Now Avhatever modern critics may think of the
rhyme, it soon appeared that the monks of Tavistock
found there was reason in it ; and good reason, too,
that they should constitute themselves the heirs of
old Childe ; for soon hearing that he was fi-ozen to
death somewhere near Crockern-tor, they set their
Arits and hands to work to give him as speedily as
possible an honorable sepulchre.
But as the heirship was left thus vague and open
to competition, there were others who thought them
selves quite as much, if not more, entitled to succeed
than the friars ; and these were the good people of
Plymstock, in whose parish the lands in question
had their standing ; and though not invited to the
funeral, yet, out of respect to the old gentleman, or
more probably to his acres, they not only determined
to inrite themselves, but also to try how far club-
laAv might settle the hefrship in thefr favour ; and
* Prince, says, in the 'Worthies,' " now something in confirmation
hereof I find, that there is a place in the forest of Dartmoor, near
Crockern-tor, which is still called Childe of Plymstock's tomb;
whereon, we are informed, these verses were engraven, and heretofore
seen, though not now :
" ' They first that find, and bring me" to my grave,
My lands, which are at Plymstock, they shall have.' "

XXIII.] ABBEY OF TAVISTOCK. 55
SO taking their post at a certain bridge over which
they conceived the corpse must of necessity be
carried, they came to the resolution to Avrest the
body out of the hands of the holy men by force, if no
better settlement of the matter could be effected.
The friars, however, were men of peace, and had
no mind, may be, to take up any weapon sharper
than their Arits; since, as Dr. Fuller says, when
speaking of this adventure, " they must rise betimes,
or rather not go to bed at all, that wUl overreach the
monks in matters of profit ;" for these cunning bro
thers, apprehensive of losing thefr precious reliques,
cast a sUght bridge over the river at another place,
and thus, crossing with the corpse, they left the men
of Plymstock the priAolege of becoming, very sin
cerely, the chief mourners, whilst' they interred old
ChUde in thefr OAvn abbey church, and, according to
his last vrill, took possession of his lands.
It is certain that the Abbot of Taristock enjoyed
considerable property at Plymstock, wliich is now in
the possession of the Duke of Bedford ; and FuUer
states that, in memory of this successful stratagem
on the part of the monks, the bridge raised in or
near the spot in Taristock bears the name of Guile-
bridge to the present day. It is, however, now more
commonly knoAvn by the name ofthe Abbey -bridge.
Childe is supposed to have lived in the reign of
Edward the Thfrd.
The abbey, Arith its church, was dedicated to St.
Mary the holy Virgin, and St. Rumon ; the parish
church, to St. Eustachius. The arms of the abbey
were gules, two crosiers sal tire ways between two mart
lets or, in a chief argent three mullets sable. The

56 ST. RUMON. [let.
ai-ms of Orgar were, according to one authority,
Verrey B. and Arg. in chief Or, two muUets Gul.
According to another, Verey B. and arg. in chief arg.
three mullets Sable. This latter coat, impaled with
the arms of the Abbey of Taristock, was, in the time
of Prince, painted in a glass Avindow of the dining-
room at the Bear Inn, Exeter. Though httle of a
herald, I am thus particular, as, in the groined ceil
ing to the porch of Avhat was formerly the abbot's haU
(says Mr. Bray, from Avhose papers I have gleaned
the above particulars) the latter arms, surrounded
with a Avreath, are stUl discernible, cut in granite,
and forming one of the key-stones ; while, on the
other, in a lozenge, is represented a dove Arith a cross
on its breast.
Respecting St. Rumon, to whom, Arith the Vfrgin,
the abbey church was detUcated, I find the foUoAring
notice in my brother, Alfred Kempe's, account be
fore mentioned.
" Leland found a MS. Life of Rumon in Taristock
Abbey at the time of the suppression of monasteries.
He appears by this work to have been one of many
saints Avho emigrated from Ireland into CoruAvall in
the fifth or sixth century, for the purpose of enjoying
the deepest seclusion, and to have erected for him
self an oratory in Avhat the author terms a Nemsean
forest, formerly a most fi-equcnted hamit of Avild
beasts. This, according to the MS., was at Fal
mouth, where he died and was buried; but the
fame of his sanctity still surriring, Ordulph, on com
pleting the monastery at Tavistock, Avas induced to
remove his bones from their resting-place, and to
enshrine them in the abbey church, Avhere they be-

XXIII.] ST. RUMON. 57
came an object of ignorant devotion. Malmesbury
seems to lament that the miracles of Rumon, in
common with those of many other saints, owing to
the violent hostility of subsequent times, remained
unrecorded. No doubt this hiatus was amply sup
pUed in the A-olume found by Leland, and the la
bours of him who perhaps was really a zealous and
fearless propagator of Christianity in the primitive
times, Avere converted into a series of ascetic morti
fications, degrading to reason, and Averse than useless
to society, while his sanctity became attested by the
detail of miracles more absurd than the Avildest of
the Arabian Tales. Of the reputed saints, however,
many were really such in their day ; heroic soldiers,
Uke St. Paul, of Christ's Church militant on earth,
in perils and persecutions ; but the purity of thefr
doctrines becoming obscured during temporal con
vulsions, the monks issued fi-om their scriptoria ncAV
versions of their Uves, which suited their own pur
poses for the time, but have had the effect in these
enlightened days of clouding the memory of holy
men with much of doubt and incredulity."
The Abbey of Taristock being thus finished, de
dicated, and endowed in the year 981, King Ethel
red, the son of Elfrida, confirmed and granted to
it many considerable privileges, making it free from
aU secular services excepting rate for military expe
ditions, and the repair of bridges and castles. " In
the preamble to this instrument he laments that
certain persons, stained Arith infidelity, had been al
lowed, Arithout his consent (he being, as it might be
said, in an infant and powerless state, not more than
twenty years of age), to drive the monks of Tavi-
d3

58 ETHELRED's CHARTER. [lET.
stock from their sacred places and possessions. This
stain of infidelity was, I apprehend, nothing more
than a disbelief in the sanctity of monachism, and
the expulsion of the monks from church benefices,
in which they were replaced by the much more de
serving secular clergy." Such are my brother's re
marks ; but we shall hereafter see that, in all proba
bility, the expulsion thus alluded to by Ethelred had
reference to the Augustine friars, Avho were so soon
turned out of the very abbey in which they had been
placed by Orgar and Ordulph. What I have to say
on the subject must, hoAvever, be reserved for another
letter. Ethelred's charter (witnessed by his mother, Queen
Elfi-ida, and the Archbishop of Canterbury) empow
ered our Tavistock monks to choose their own ab
bot, and contained the follovring severe penalty on
any one Avho should presume to alienate any part of
the pririleges thus granted and confirmed.
" If any seduced with the madness of covetousness
shall presume to infringe this our munificence, let
him be driven from the communion, of Christ's
Church, and from any participation of the body and
blood of the Son of God ; let him stand at last, Arith
the traitor Judas on the left hand; and, unless he
repents and makes satisfaction, let the rile apostate
never be forgiven, either in this life, or in that to
come ; but let him be thrust down, with Ananias
and Sapphira, to the bottom of hell, where let him be
tormented for ever. Amen."
Aimer, a Saxon, was chosen the first abbot ; and
I shaU presently give a Ust of aU the abbots, down
to the Reformation. Something must now be said

XXIII.] ethelred's CHARTER. 59
of the order of monks who were appointed to the
abbey about the time that Ethelred granted his
chai-ter ; but haring extended this much beyond the
limits of an ordinary letter, I AriU not at present
add more than that
I am, my dear Sir,
With every feeling of respectful esteem.
Most faithfully and truly yours,
A. E. Bray.

60
LETTER XXIV.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

Contents. — Dunstan living at the time of building the Abbey —
Algarus removed from the See of Crediton — Dunstan's views
respecting the Benedictines — His power and craft — Orgar iu his
office of Earl raust have been a coadjutor of Algarus in the Shirege
mot Court — Some conjectures respecting the removal of Algarus —
Ou what circumstances founded — The Benedictines — Their great
learning — Literature benefited by them — The subj eet further con
sidered — Learning fearfully assailed — Its preservation and re
vival — Liturgies — The Bible — Benedictines, their great works-
Brief account of St. Benedict their founder — Interview between
him and Tortila, king of the Goths — His prophecy fulfilled — A
venerable Benedictine known to the writer abroad — His amiable
character — Demolition of Monasteries a cause of unceasing regret —
The Cross; its beauty in form — The good influence arising frora its
heing an object of sight — Crosses frequently met with in the
West — Thoughts and feelings suggested by the subject — The im
posing nature of Abbeys and Monastic buildings — Their moral
grandeur — Blind zeal led to their destruction — Reformation dis
gracefully carried on though useful in its general aim — Abbey walls
of Tavistock — Their beautiful situation — St. John's; the hermitage
of the olden time — Reflections suggested by an eveuing walk oa
the banks of the Tavy under these venerable walls.

Ficarage, Tavistock, .August 1st, 1832.
My DEAR Sir,
It is not unworthy observation that, about the
time of the building of Tavistock Abbey, Dunstan,
that crafty churchman, of miracle-lying memory,
by his exertions removed Algarus from the see of
Crediton (after he had held it ten years) to make
way for Alfodus, a friend of his OAvn, who there

XXIV.J DUNSTAN. 61
remained bishop during seventeen years, when he
died. What motive could have prompted Dunstan
to desire the removal of Algarus is not ascertained ;
but it may, I think, be inferred with a nearer ap
proach to certainty than generally accompanies con
jecture. The power Avhich that ambitious primate had
acqufred over the mind of the licentious Edgar is
too Avell known to need much notice here ; the king
was, in fact, in all ecclesiastical matters, no more
than an instrument to forward the artful and grasping
designs of Dunstan. Assured of royal countenance,
he soon put in execution those tyrannical schemes
he had so long forined to estabUsh ceUbacy as a law
Arith the clergy, to expel or convert them into monks,
and to render those monks Benedictines : a rule that
was dependent on himself and would help to carry
on his plans throughout the kingdom. Dunstan,
moreoA'er, had been the first Abbot of Glastonbury, a
monastery bmlt, endoAved, and filled by him with
Benedictines; an order of which FuUer (in the
spirit of pleasantry he so constantly mingles Avith
the most exceUent sense) says, " they now began to
swarm in England, more than maggots in a hot May,
so incredible was thefr increase."
No sooner had Edgar succeeded to the throne of his
unfortunate brother EdAvy, than the primate procured
Oswald and Ethelwald to be promoted to the sees
of Worcester and Winchester, as ecclesiastics avow
edly devoted to the grand object of forwarding by
every means the advancement of the Benedictine
rule ; and he hesitated not to remove or persecute
any of the clergy who offered the least resistance to

62 ALGARUS. [let.
his AriU. When we recoUect these things, we need
not look far to find a very probable motive for the
removal of Algarus from the see of Crediton. Nor
can I help fancying that, by inference, at least, this
motive may be yet further developed, and that it
Avas not other than connected with the order of
monks in our abbey.
Orgar, Earl of Devon, in the very nature of his
office, could not but be in some measm-e ac
quainted vrith Algarus ; since, as Bishop of Crediton,
he must have taken his seat Arith the earl of the
county in the Shiregemot Court. Now, at the time
Orgar contemplated building and endoAring his
abbey on the banks of the Tavy, might he not have
consulted with Algarus, respecting the order of
monks he should place in it ? For if Prince be cor
rect in his statement (and there is no reason to think
he was othervrise, as he chiefly foUowed that excel
lent antiquary Risdon) our abbey was at first
peopled with Augustine friars*: though, according
to Dugdale, such order could not have been then of
long continuance ; for Tavistock Abbey was founded
in 961, and Dugdale cites a charter of the reign of
Ethelbert, dated 981, giring the monks therein
power to choose their OAvn abbot, in which they are
expressly stated to be of the Benedictine rule. The
same learned writer teUs us, that Edgar in 964
made it his boast that he had endowed not less than
forty-seven monasteries of that order in his king-
* The Augustine order seems to have been a favourite one with
the family of the Earl of Devon; for his daughter. Queen Elfrida,
peopled her convents of Warwelle and Amblesbury with Augustine
Nuns.

XXIV.] ALGARUS. 63
dom. Our abbey, it wdl be recollected, was com
menced three years before this; and was endowed
by Orgar, not by Edgar.
When we consider the boast on the part of the
Idng, we see how friendly he was to the monks Avhom
Fuller compares to the "maggots in a hot May."
And when we also consider Dunstan's determination
to have all the monks Benedictines, the Augustine
friars of Taristock Avere tolerably sure of being turned
out. And the removal of Algarus (in whose diocese
they Avere) by the interference of Dunstan, leads me
to suspect that the bishop was, in some way or other,
an obstacle to this change of the order ; or he might
at first have prevailed with Orgar to make choice of
the Augustines, Avhich suited not Arith the plans and
intrigues of Dunstan ; for we cannot doubt that with
his views, an abbey endowed on so large a scale as
Taristock (to hold a thousand men) and by so great
a benefactor as Orgar, must have been a foundation
Avorth intriguing for on the part of the primate, who
sought to extend his own poAver by peopling, if
it were possible, every monastery Arith those Bene
dictines Avho were so entirely subserrient to his
AviU*. * The dislike which Queen Elfrida, aud her son Ethelred, enter
tained for Dunstan is well known ; and so far had it extended that,
at one time, there was the queen's party, and the archbishop's, in the
state. "Elfrida," (says Turner in his history of the Anglo Saxons,)
" was as ambitious as Dunstan, and therefore became his rival. She
joined the party of the clergy, and endeavoured to bias the minds of
the great in favour of her son Ethelred." This was before he suc
ceeded to the throne by her murder of Edward the Martyr. It
is therefore the more probable that Ethelred's complaint, in the
preamble of his charter, about the monks being turned out of their
possessions in Tavisock Abbey, referred to the previous removal

64 DUNSTAN. [let.
His character renders these conjectures (and they
are only offered as conjectures) the more Ukely ; since,
Arith the exception of Wolsey, there is not, perhaps,
in the ecclesiastical history of this country, so deeply
designing, or so far-sighted a prelate as Dunstan.
Becket, to borrow your OAvn words (in the ' Book of
the Church'), had a "daring spirit, a fiery temper,
and a haughty heart," loved power, and pursued his
ends by means sufficiently proud and overbearing.
But the high tone with which he maintained the
dignity of the priesthood, as, with his crosier in his
hand, he met Henry face to face, and presenting
before him that pastoral emblem of a servant of the
good shepherd — as arms placed in his hands by
God himself, to command even the respect of kings
— inspires a feeling of admiration Avhich true mag
nanimity will always aAvaken in a generous breast;
and Avas far different from the mean compUances
Arith the king's vices, the frauds and the hj^ocrisy of
Dunstan. Those mean compliances were apparent
when he enjoined on Edgar a mock penance for the
flagrantly immoral actions of his life : since his pe
nances Avere no Aveightier than that the king Avas not
to Avcar his crown for a certain space of time, and was
to fast during certain days. And most truly did he
turn even the king's sins to his oAvn profit, Avhen above
all other things he recommended that the royal pe
nitent, as an atonement for them, should persecute
the married clergy might and main, expel them, and
of the Augustine friars. Some years after this event, the Abbey
being thus finished and endowed. King Ethelred, grandson of the
founder, confirmed and granted to it many considerable privileges,
making it free from all secular services, those before named excepted.

XXIV.] LEARNING OF THE BENEDICTINES. ^*"*^"-^5"
set up the Benedictine rule throughout the land.
Assuredly the acts of Dunstan witness for him that
his intercourse Avith the deril Avas no fiction, though
it may be questioned if it were not in a more fi-iendly
way than that of taking him by the nose.
HoAvever, to the praise of the Benedictines be it
spoken, thefr order, from the earliest times to the
latest, Avas favourable to learning. And as any
history of our abbey would be very imperfect did
it not give some account of the rule Avhich prevailed
in it for so many centuries, instead of offering any
excuses for here introducing it, I should have to
apologize did I omit it : more especially as it will be
found, in the sequel, that our Tavistock monks have
the honour of being connected Arith the art of print
ing in its earUest age; and, indeed, as Benedictine
brothers, may be classed with those Avho assisted in
the preservation and rerival of letters.
Though foreign wars have occasionally been the
means of spreading literature, or of bringing it Arith
profit home, yet nothing, it is universally alloAved,
is so injurious to its immediate interests, as the
revolutions and civU brawls of poUtical states. Very
different from the first position, however, was the
invasion of Italy ; when Rome being sacked by the
Goths, in the time of Honorius, and the whole
country subsequently conquered by Odoacer, com
pleted the ruin of that celebrated empire, second
only to Greece as the fertile mother of genius and
the nursery of learning. To those who Avish to see
letters flourish in their own day, it is at all times
grievous to observe the public mind turned whoUy
on political opposition. A contest of this sort may
sometimes begin Arith judgment, but it is sure to

66 LITERATURE. [lET.
degenerate into passion; and the frenzy or maUce
of party spfrit gives bfrth to those feeUngs of little
ness, which harden the mind, or render it indifferent
to the deUghtful relaxations and the kindly fruits
of letters.
Literature also teaches men to be reasonable, and
to look to experience for instruction. When properly
pursued, it is the great school of humUity ; since the
student learns to little advantage, if he learns not his
OAvn insufficiency, and after aU he acquires, sees not
how much remains beyond the span of his OAvn U-
mited existence, and that perfect knowledge is with
God alone. These are truths Avhich men bent on
the frenzy of insurrectionary passions wiU never
admit; since their standard of aU knowledge of
right and wrong is their own opinion. A Arise man
and a true christian, on the contrary, founds his po
Utics on the laAvs of God, as well as on the estabUshed
laws of his country ; and both teach submission and
obedience. These I am aware are opinions of what
is now called the " Old school," they suit not Arith
the spirit of the new, and are, as Shakspeare so feel
ingly expresses it, Uke
" Unregarded age, in corners thrown."
Learning, though fearfuUy assaUed, and at last
overthroAvn, in the empire of the West, Avas saved
from total extinction by the followers of the Christian
Church. It has been weU remarked by an inteUigent
but anonymous AVi-iter on the subject of its decay,
that AvhUst a " gothic tempest" Avould have sAvept
from Europe the arts and the Avritten Avisdom of
antiquity, one thing contributed to save them from
total destruction, though that was in itself a bad

XXIV.] THE FATHERS. 67
thing — "superstition." For the barbarous hordes
of the North entertained so great a dread of their
idolatrous gods, that it inspired them with a fear and
deference for their priesthood ; and this feeUng, in
some measure, accompanied them even into foreign
countries, and Avas noAv and then evinced toAvards
the ministers of a foreign reUgion ; so that the mo
nastery (and would that the Danes had done the
same in England at a subsequent period !) Avas some
times spared, when palaces Avere sacked and com
mitted to the flames.
In the primitive ages of Christianity, learning was
alone cultivated by the Fathers of the Church ; and
the Avritings of such men as St. Chryostom, Au
gustine, Gregory Nazianzen, Cyprian, and others,
independent of the great truths they inculcate, were
of that feeUng and poetic order of eloquence, that
ranks them next to the prophets and the apostles,
and shows that the Avriters were filled Avith a large
portion ofthe Holy Spirit, so abundantly poured forth
in the early ages of the Church. Their disciples
foUowed in thefr path ; so that wliilst the barbarities
of the northern conquerors had spread around a
darkness Avhich, to the human soul, was as " thick
night,'' light Avas only to be found in the cell of the
christian scholar ; AVhose lonely lamp, as it glimmered
on the shores of some placid sea, Avas a guiding star to
the Aveary and persecuted of the Church, where reU
gion and learning, those txrins of peace and love,
reposed, like the dove of David, far away from the
stormy Avinds and the tempest.
The earliest liturgies Avere composed in Greek and
Latin, and to the fathers are Ave indebted for the
preservation of those noble languages ; the latter

68 THE BIBLE. [lET.
hereafter to become, as we have seen, the medium
of communication with the learned of Europe : thus
affording them a common means of exchanging the
benefits of science and knowledge, that formed,
though at a distance and unseen by each other, a
bond of friendship arising from sympathy of feeling
and similarity of pursuit — a union Avhich none but
noble minds can truly enjoy; since it is one disin
terested, independent of the circumstances of life, or
the changes of fortune, and looks for its continuance
in a Avorld beyond the grave.
Valuable as Avere the Avritings of the ancients, we
are above all, however, indebted to the Bible for the
preservation and the revival of learning. Inde
pendent of its being the Book of Life, it is of such
transcendent beauty, in almost every species of com
position, that, had every other book been destroyed,
it would of itself have been sufficient to have taught.
Avisdom to empires, to give laAV to governments, and
to teach both morals and manners to the whole
Avorld. The Bible was to the early Christians, as
the ark of God had been to the Jews of old, the de
pository of the covenant : it went forth Avith them
into all nations and languages : it became thefr
strength in the hour of rictory, and their hope under
the severest trials and persecutions of their faith. It
Avas the only book over Avhich sin and death could
have no power.
That not only the sacred Avritings, but such of the
classics as have come down to us, Avere preserved in
the monasteries, is a fact so universaUy knoAvn, that
nothing more than here to notice it need be said
upon the subject. The Benedictines, from the
seventh to the last century, were employed in those

xxiv.] THE BENEDICTINE ORDER. 69
labours that have made the learned of all times their
debtors. And amongst many excellent Avorks, one
of the most valuable sent by them into the world in
modern days, is an edition of St. Chrysostom, edited
by Montfaucon, Arith the assistance of other members
of the same community. And though, unhappily,
the monastic institutions Avere swept aAvay, instead of
being reformed, Arith the Church, it Avould be well if
the learned Avho reside in our colleges in one thing
followed the example of the Benedictines. With
the leisure, the advantages they possess in every
way, did they unite together and assist each other
in the task, they might, by such joint labours, afford
the literary world at large most valuable- editions
not only of the classics, but of the Fathers, and of
every inestimable AVork of antiquity.
The Benedictine order had its origin Avith Bene
dict, an ItaUan, Avho, about the end of the fifth cen
tury, first attracted notice on account of his talents
and his worth. He is generaUy considered to have
been the son of a peasant, though some Avriters have
affirmed that his father was of a noble house. Be
this as it may, his zeal for religion and good morals
proved that he was possessed of that true nobility of
mind Avhich, as an old writer says, " hath its patent
from God himself, and needeth no earthly addition."
Benedict, on conversing vrith young men of his OAvn
age, felt so shocked at obserring the licentiousness of
their manners, that he retired from the Avorld, and
shut himself up in a cavern where no one, saving an
old monk, knew of his retreat. At length he was
induced to converse Arith the monks belonging to the
community of his friend ; and so much Avere they
edified by listening to his devout discourses, that they

70 ST. BENEDICT. [lET.
spread his fame far and near ; and, after a whUe,
he Avas requested to leave his cave and become su
perior of a monastery in the neighbourhood.
Sacrificing his love of soUtude for the hope of
being useful to others, Benedict accepted the office,
but resolved, should he be disappointed in his ex
pectations, that the old cavern should once more
become his home. The monks, over Avhom he now
presided in their rehgious exercises, fell far short of
the ideas he had formed of devotional perfection;
he liked not thefr manners, and they liked not
his discipline, and so they speedily parted on
less happy terms than they had met. According
to those chroniclers Avho celebrated the lives of
the saints, the power of working mfracles Avas now
added to aU his other extraordinary endowments;
and this power droAV around him a multitude of fol
lowers and disciples. It is to be supposed they
supplied him amply with this world's goods ; since,
unless he did it by miracle, Benedict erected, by his
own means, many monasteries, and placed in them
persons who were more Arilling than the monks had
been to foUow his rule ; and even some of the nobles
brought to him their children, that they might re
ceive such an education as he should direct.
Imitating the manner of life practised by the holy
apostles, Benedict traveUed into several kingdoms,
preaching the gospel, and confirming the truth of its
doctrine by many marveUous works. In the country
of thef Samnfres he overthroAv the altar of ApoUo,
destroyed the statue of that god, cut down his grove,
and erected an oratory in the place Avhere the hea
then temple had stood; but so numerous were the
persons who Arished to devote themselves to his way

xxiv.j ST. benedict's sister. 71
of life, that he found it necessary to turn his oratory
into a monastery, of which he now became the chief,
and thus established, on a more permanent footing,
that rigid order which ever after bore his name.
Benedict Avas not the only saint of his family;
his sister, to whom he was exceedingly attached,
being no less celebrated for piety than himself. She
Avas a nun, and one day only in the year did these
near relatives indulge themselves vrith any pleasure
so allied to earthly feelings as that of the inter
change of fi-aternal affection. During an interview
of this description, whUst Benedict, attended by his
disciples, was about to retfr-e, after having preached
and prayed from his cell, his sister threw herself on
her knees before him, and begged him to tarry ano
ther day ; but her brother told her that the rule of
his order did not aUow him to pass one night be
yond the waUs of the monastery of which he was the
chief She then, in a fit of passionate sorrow, sup-
phcated God to grant her patience and resignation,
as she felt assured that she should never more be
hold her most beloved friend. Benedict endeavoured
to console her ; and though he refused compliance
Arith her request, a sudden and violent storm Avhich
ensued caused some delay in his departure ; at last
he went. Great, however, was his grief when, soon
after his return to the monastery, he received the in
formation that his sister was dead, so speedUy had
her own prediction been fulfilled. He caused her
body to be removed to the tomb that he had pre
pared for himself, in order that his ashes might
hereafter mingle Arith hers in the same grave.
Another striking story is recorded of Benedict re
specting his interriew Arith fhe fierce Totila, King

72 TOTILA. [let.
of the Goths. So great was the reputation of the
saint, that the barbarian prince entertained a Avish
to see him, and the more so as he understood that
he possessed the gift of prophecy, and hoped to
learn from him some intelligence of his future des
tiny. The king was struck Avith awe on beholding
the venerable aspect of the saint, and he Avho had
never before humbled himself in the presence of
mortal fell at the feet of the recluse, who had no
thing about him to excite terror excepting that air
of authority Avith Avhich, as a prophet of God, he
looked upon the king and reproached him for his
cruel victories. Totila, alarmed but not converted,
struggled with feelings so new to him and so embar
rassing; and determining, let Avhat would be the
event, he Avould inquire of this man of God his fu
ture fate, received, in reply to those inquiries, the
following brief prediction: "You will enter Rome;
you Avill pass the sea ; nine years a croAvn is yours,
but the tenth that crown shall be given to death."
This warning was said to be strictly fulfilled, for
Totila died in the tenth year after he had entered
the city of Rome. Many are the legends told of
St. Benedict. No doubt he was a remarkable per
son; and the great object, both of his rule and of
his life, was to bring into a more moral government
the then existing orders of monachism. He had
also the good sense to recommend the cultivation
of letters to all who devoted themselves to reUgious
retfrement. Such was the man who founded the
order of the Benedictines.
All monasteries where his rule was professed in
former times preserved some record of his life, or
of his miracles. If my memory serves me truly, I

xxiv.] THE CROSS. 73
understood fi-om a venerable Benedictine, nearly
eighty years old, Avith Avhom, some years since, I was
acquainted at St. Omer's (and Avho still fondly lin
gered about the old Avails of that abbey of Avhich he
had once been a learned, and, I doubt not, a worthy
brother), that before the Revolution a splendid illu
minated manuscript, of a very early date, contain
ing the life of St. Benedict, had been there pre
served. It vvas lost, or destroyed, Avhen the mob,
like so many demoniacs, broke into the noble abbey,
and made that havoc which reduced it to the ruinous
state in which it appeared Avhen I passed through
its melancholy aisles, under the guidance of this
aged and devout man, and heard him tell the sad
story of its fall. I have never forgotten the poor
Benedictine; his unaffected piety; his meek and
polished manners ; the deep expression of his feel
ings, and his entfr-e resignation to the will of God,
in Avhose bosom, I doubt not, he is uoav at rest.
I never can think of the demolition of monasteries
and abbeys, and look upon the ruins of our ovvn at Ta
vistock, without feeUngs of the most poignant regret.
Even the sight of a broken or of an overturned cross
giA-cs me pain : the cross ! the most beautiful of all
simple forms ; the most harmless emblem of a Chris
tian people. When vieAved with the eye of contempla
tion, it reminds us of that tree of shame vvhich be
came to all the Avorld, by the sacrifice of Him Avho
died upon it, as the tree of life and immortality.
Would that every church had retained its cross to
this day ! there Avould have been no danger that, in
Protestant societies, any should fall doAvn and Avor
ship the wood or stone of Avhich the emblem was
composed. But the mere sight of it, with feeling
VOL. II. E

74 PLEASURE FROM REFLECTING [lET.
persons, must have touched the heart, and some
pious thought, some tender recollection would have
arisen. And stiU, in the baptism of our own re
formed church, the child on being purified by that
holy mystery from original sin, on being made a
"faithful soldier of Christ," is signed with "the
sign of the cross " upon his brow, and becomes a par
taker of the benefits purchased for him by the Ee
deemer of the Avorld.
In this neighbourhood we often meet in our walks
and rides, in many a solitary spot, a rude and ancient
cross ; some so ancient that we are incUned to con
sider them as having been set up by the earliest
converts to Christianity in this part of England.
When we meet with a vestige of this description in
the vast desolation of Dartmoor, or in the midst of
the rural scenes of wood and water that abound in
Devon, near the riUage or the antique church, how
many delightful thoughts and feelings arise in the
breast of him who views it in its relation to past
times and holy men ! Yes — those who reverence
antiquity, who love knowledge as the friend of all
that is noble and good — of all that makes life plea
sant, and time as a field that, if carefully cultivated,
Avill find its harvest in eternity, AriU look with an eye
of deep interest on such venerable records of the
past : even the rudest emblem of the cross AriU not
be met with in vain.
These things may excite a smUe of contempt in
the heartless foUowers of modern fashion and inno
vation. But there are feelings, in better minds, that
wiU not bear exposure to the common eye, that find
no sympathy Arith the vulgar in station, or the
vulgar in soul; that shrink from the censure of cold

XXIV.] ON ANTIQUITY. 75
hearts and busy tongues. All those generous sen
timents that arise from the poetry of nature, from
high-raised thoughts,
" Not of earth only, but of highest heaven,"
are of this kind ; and they are more peculiarly the
property of the meditative and the good, the " lowly
vrise," who deUght to connect " aU seasons and their
change," aU " outAvard and risible signs," Arith that
" inward grace," which forms the moral government
of the spfrit. For such minds there is a full- spread
book in the creation of God, and in the arts of man ;
for such the most soUtary depths have a voice that
utters Arisdom. The wide immensity of heaven;
the multitude of countless stars ; the clouds that roll
before them in their immeasurable travel, that " drop
fatness" on the earth, as manna dropped on the
desert to sustain the chosen of Israel ; the Arintry
torrent, or the summer brook, each affords its bless
ing and their lesson to him who can estimate them,
as he strays through pathless woods, or the green
fields, where the birds that cater not for them
selves find a table spread on every bush, where the
young ravens seek their food from God. These are
pleasures that ask no cost, that require no sacrifice,
that cause no remorse, for they have thefr source in
simplicity and in truth. They come to us under a
thousand forms, and in a thousand ways. The waves
as they break on some distant shore, the shadoAvs of
the forest, or the melancholy cadence of the wind,
have each a story that the feeUng mind delights to
hear and to repeat.
Nor less are the pleasures that result from a con
templation of antiquity. The solemn ruins of the
feudal castle, the mouldering Abbey, or the ancient
e2

76 BEAUTY OF ANCIENT CHURCHES. [lET,
cross, grey with its lichen and its moss, they too have
a tongue ! Hoav many images of the past do these
recaU ! We think, as Ave look upon that cross, of
the ages that have rolled on since it Avas there
planted by some one nOAV unknown to fame, but
whose name, though blotted fi-om the records of
time, is enrolled in the book of life. Wc think of
feudal tyrants and stormy times, of fanaticism and
rebelUon, that have each in turn risen to despise
those precepts, and to shake that faith taught by
Him Avho perished on a thing Uke this ! Yet how
vain is man when he strives Avith the Almighty !
God has said that the Avord of his Son is anchored on
the rock of ages, and that it shall endure till all
nations boAV to Him ; till all enemies, and death the
last, shaU be subdued by him ; and his laAv is stiU
great, stiU spreading to the most distant people of
the earth, as that light Avhich encompasses the Avliole.
What depths ,of feeling lie hidden in the human
breast ! What strong traces ofthe Divinity are fixed
in that heart on which is Avritten, as on the bells of
the horses' bridles, "Holiness unto the Lord." With
those thus favoured by the grace of God, it is a duty
replete vrith deUght, it is thefr- best service, and their
best reward, to find in all things somewhat of good,
somoAvhat that speaks to them of their Creator. And
the Avorks of man, in his finest or his rudest arts, as
they are the result of that mind Avhich emanates
from the Deity, have likoArise an immediate reference
to his proridenoe and his poAver. And never were
the arts more nobly employed than by our forefathers,
when they raised those beautiful piles, our cathedi-als,
our churches, our universities, and our Abbeys, to the
honour of that rQUgion which God had given to man as

XXIV.] THE REFORMATION. 77
the chief blessing, the chief distinction and glory of his
kind, that he should not be as the beasts Avhich perish.
It is lamentable to think hoAV these majestic edi
fices fell before the blind zeal, the ill-directed means
— hoAvever desirable the end — of the Reformation.
" Never Avas there a good work so wickedly effected
as the Reformation in England. It is at once our
chief blessing and our foulest reproach *." A second
havoc among ecclesiastical edifices, and scarcely less
destructive than the first, arose from the fury of the
fanatics, and the miserable sectaries of the time of
Charles I. The great enemy ofthe church, the Prince
of darkness himself, never will be at rest in his at
tempts against it ; and whether his agents appear in
the shape of infidels, of fanatics, or of mercUess re
formers, it is the same spirit that actuates them aU,
for all are rebels against the holiness of God, in his
most holy church.
WeU Avould it have been vrith those Avho conducted
the great Reformation had they been content to
repair rather than to overturn. And hoAV good it is
to preserve temper in all things may be learned fi-om
the example of St. Paul, Avho, when he saw the altar
dedicated by the Greeks to the " UnknoAvn God,'
did not OA'erthroAV it, but Him Avhom they ignorantiy
worshipped did he truly teach them to understand;
thus showing that a heathen altar, from Avhich the
false fires of idolatry had arisen, was capable of
becoming, as the altar of Abraham, a place of sacri
fice to the Father of truth.
How often, as 1 have Avandered under the Abbey
Avails, that uoav form the boundary of our own garden,
and looked on the romantic and beautiful scene that
Avas before me, have I fancied I could see it, animated
'* Moral and Political Essays, vol. i. page 98,

78 HERMITAGE OF ST. JOHN. [lET.
with human beings, as it must have appeared in
other times. These walls were spared during the
general destruction ; thefr massiveness and the
roughness of their stone were not improbably thefr
protection. They are even now nearly perfect ; and
in the quarter towards the Abbey bridge appear
lofty and battlemented. A toAver called the StiU-
house, in one part stands forward and breaks the
uniformity of the long line of Avail, so beautifuUy
hung with ivy. A raised causeway Ues between
these waUs and the river, and affords a walk so de
lightful, that it may truly be termed the Abbey ter
race. It is of considerable extent.
Immediately below this causeway flows the rapid
Tavy over vast masses of rock that here and there
diride the current of the waters, and form them into
many picturesque and low falls, white and dazzling
Arith foam. On the opposite hill, beautifuUy diver
sified by trees, some of which droop their branches
into the passing waters, once stood a cell, the Her
mitage of St. John. Of this no memorial is now left,
excepting a spring of the purest kind, and the spot
is still called by its ancient name ; no doubt this was
the sacred fountain dedicated to John the Baptist.
There is a record, preserved with the parish docu
ments, consisting of an old inventory of the treasury
of Tavistock church, in which it appears that a her
mit left his sUver crucifix, inclosing a piece of the true
cross, to our church. Tn all probability the recluse
Avho made this bequest was the hermit of St. John.
As you have already read of the Walk (as it is
called) under our Abbey waUs, in Fitz-ford, I do not
here enter upon more minute particulars, lest it should
come to you as a tale tvrice told. I shall only, there
fore, addt that looking to the east, the GuUe bridge.

XXIV.] HERMITAGE OF ST. JOHN. 79
and the distant heights of Dartmoor, intersected by
some trees that groAv at the foot of the hill beyond
the bridge, close a scene of beauty seldom found so
near a populous town in any part of England. As
the Avails 1 have mentioned formed the boundary of
the Abbot's garden, and there was, and yet re
mains, a portal which stands near the StiU-house,
opening upon the Walk, I am disposed to think it
might have been used by the holy brothers, when
ever they Arished to sally forth and enjoy the cool
air fi-om the river in their hours of recreation. The
river alone separated them from the precincts of the
Hermitage, a view of which they commanded from
this walk.
I have often fancied, as I looked across the Tavy,
that I could see the Gothic oratory as it once ap
peared about the spring ; the roof which formerly
overarched it, the sculptured image of the Baptist,
fri his raiment of camel's hafr, as he stood in a niche
above, pointing with his hand to the holy well be
neath, and holding in the other a staff with the
banner of the Agnus Dei. The crucifix, the hour
glass, and the skuU appear on the rough-hewn table,
and there kneels the venerable hermit, engaged in
the office of his evening prayers ; as the " small
birds" twitter on the boughs around his cell, and
seek their nest amid a canopy of leaves, whilst the
setting sun casts over the Avhole scene a departing
gleam that "fires the proud tops" of the Abbey
towers and Avails, or flashes on the rushing waters in
meteor rays of light. The stillness of evening
settles on all around; not a human sound breaks
the universal repose : the masses of rock, now seen
only in their outline, assume a variety of dark and

80 AVELL OF ST. JOHN. [lET. XXIV.
fantastic forms, as the constant murmur of the Tavy,
that never ceases, seems to find its echo in the
" listening heart," tUl slowly flinging its sounds (as
the light of day AvithdraAvs) over hill and vale and
water, I am awakened from these thoughts of other
times ; as (in the language of the poet, Avho has thus
expressed it, in a Une of matchless beauty for its
euphony) I listen, and
" Hear the bell from the tower, toll ! toll 1 through the silence of
evening."
These are "thick coming fancies," that steal upon
the mind in hours of poetry and of feeling — ^but the
reality is before me ; there lies the once holy, and
the ever pure spring of St. John, unsheltered, open
to the sunshine or the storm ; those just emblems
of the fortunes experienced by the departed guar
dians of this fountain. Oh ! thoughts of innocence
and peace, hoAv do ye delight to pause on the sha-
doAvy or the mouldering records of former years !
How do ye Avhisper to one Avho Avelcomes you as sweet
and pleasant friends ; that a foAv years more, and,
over the name and the remembrance of that one,
oblivion shall roll her dark and "rayless night,"
even as it is noAv falling, like a mantle, on these once
stately towers. But there is a memory in Heaven,
and being a record of mercy, it can never be blotted
out. Such is the comfort cf all Avho feel (in the
Avords of Montesinos) " the Aveight of time and of
eternity upon the spirit." Dear Sir,
Ever faithfuUy and respectfully yours,
Anna E. Bray.

81
LETTER XXV.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

Contents :— Abbey b-arnt by the Danes — Hengist-dowfl — Scene of a
great Battle — Horse Bridge — Some conjectures concerning it —
Wars during tbe Saxon era — Saxon Princes of the West — Arthur,
his career — Saxons and Danes — Their fierce contests near Tavis
tock — .\dage respecting one of their battles — The Danes ravage
Tavistock ; destroy the Abbey — It rises again — Its benefactors —
Livingus, its munificent Abbot — Brief notice of his history — His
death; huried in the Abbey — Lands, deeds, privileges, benefac
tions, charters, &e. &e., conferred on the Abbey — Abbots grown
rich ; parish priest so poor as to petition for a pair of shoes — John
Banham made a mitred Abbot — Anglo-Saxon Monasteries, their
simplicity and piety — Benedictines, their dress, &c. — Their hos
pitality.

Ficarage, Tavistock, 1832,
My dear Sir,
After having, in my former letters, traced
the history of our Abbey fi-om its foundation to its
completion in the year 981, I have noAV to speak of
the first severe shock it experienced by a change of
fortune, for scarcely had this magnificent structure-
stood thirty years, ere the Danes became its ruin.
The first appearance of those barbarians on our
shores Avas about the close of the eighth century,
Avhen Brithric reigned in Wessex. In the time of
Egbert they pUlaged the Isle of Sheppey, and soon
after gained a great victory at Charmouth, in Dor
setshire; Avhere they murdered two bishops, and
kept possession of their camp. But the greatest
incm-sion in this part of the West was in 835. The
e3

82 HENGIST-DOWN. [lET.
Saxon Chronicle states, that a large fleet of these
marauders came to the "West Welch" — the people
of Cornwall — who united their forces Arith them, and
made war on Egbert. The circumstance of the men
of Cornwall thus joining heathens to carry arras into
the territory of a Christian prince may be considered
a strong confirmation of the opinion that they stiU
clung to the old superstitions of the ancient Britons,
and Avere not yet converted to the truth. Egbert,
when he heard of this alliance against him, "marched
Arith an army (says the same Chronicle) and fought
Arith them at Hengest-dune, and there he put to
flight both the Welch and the Danes."
Hengest-dune (now caUed Hengesdown*, and
sometimes Kingston) is in our neighbourhood ; and
not very far distant from it is Horse Bridge ; and I
cannot help entertaining the conjecture that the hill
where Egbert thus beat the forces combined against
him derived its name from some battle fought long
before his time, in the days of Vortigern, the British
prince. I shall here state the reasons which have
induced me to venture this conjecture.
There is no record, that I am aAvare of, in existence,
by Avhich we have any authority for saying that the
Saxon brothers, Hengist and Horsa (when they
visited this country and so cruelly massacred the
Britons) Avere ever in this part of England. Yet
* There are several barrows on Hengist-dowu : one or two of
which (says Mr. Carruigton, jun., in the Devonport Guide) were
opened a few years since. In one of them they found a human skull
and several bones. A druidical cell (corresponding in its appearance
to those called by Davies " arkite cells" of the bards) was also dug
up on Hengist-down mauy years ago. Near Cotele, a narrow glen is
still called Danes Combe; the Danes having past through it on theu:
•way to meet Egbert in battle.

XXV. ] HENGIST-DOWN. 83
the thing seems to me not improbable, nor impos
sible. The records of that time were very imperfect.
The principal historian, Witichindus, a Saxon, might
not have been acquainted with every minute ofrcum
stance of the period about which he Avrote. And
when Ave recoUect Uoav many monasteries in this
country were afterwards burnt by the Danes, we
cannot but conclude some chronicles or documents,
that would have throAvn much Ught on our early
history, were consumed in the flames.
It is so remarkable a cfr-cumstance that Hengist-
down should Ue not very far from Horse Bridge*,
that it is a strong temptation to fancy those places
derived their names fi-om Hengist and Horsa. Let
it also be remembered that Vortigern (Avho leagued
Arith those chiefs, and by his base treachery and in
trigues fixed the Saxon yoke on his countrymen)
was Earl or Heretoge of Cornwall. The very station
he held connected him more particularly Arith the
Cornish Britons, and with the people of Devon:
they were also numbered with those who made the
longest and most rigorous resistance against the
Saxon wolves ; and though the greatest battle took
place at Bampton, where the miserable Britons lost
(according to the Saxon Chronicle) two thousand
and forty-six of their bravest men, yet many battles
Avere fought of less import, prerious to that decisive
engagement. Might it not then be possible that
one of these " many battles" was on the borders of
CornwaU, where Vortigern, the base Heretoge of
that county, might even have guided Hengist and
* Horse Bridge is a beautiful object iu a beautiful spot ; it crosses
the river Tamar, that divides Cornwall and Devon. It is noticed by
Baretti, iu his delightful letters.

84 PRINCE ARTHUR. [lET.
Horsa; and where each (the one on the hill, and the
other at the pass of the river) might have achieved
a minor rictory; and so have left their names as
memorials to those places? — names that have sur-
¦vived stone or brass, and still may point out to the
local historian the scene of carnage and victory.
HoAV much light AriU even a name throAv on a place,
where it awakens a spirit of inquiry ! Hoav pleasant
is it to sit at a desk and settle about the site of battles,
and the tyrants Avho fought them, a thousand years
ago ! You will, I dare say, smile at my conjectures ;
but I Avill endeavour yet further to show they are not
so Arild as they might at first be imagined.
That this part of England Avas the scene of many
fierce engagements, long before the time of Egbert,
is proved by historical facts. Encouraged by the
success of Hengist, many Saxon adventurers crossed
the seas, and eventually gained a footing in Britain.
Amongst these was Cerdic, the founder of the West
Saxon Kingdom, Avho Avas opposed in his career by
Aurelius Ambrosius, and the heroic Prince Arthur ;
Avhose virtues became so magnified by the bards, and
his real actions so blended Avith those purely fabulous,
that, like Hercules, he was rendered quite as much
a god of mythology in Britain, as that renoAvned and
laborious hero Avas in Greece; and who, likewise,
received his divinity from the poets.
That Arthur Avas an extraordinary prince, a light
amidst darkness, cannot be doubted ; the very extra-
A'agance of his fame had in all probability its founda
tion in the enthusiasm and admiration he inspired
amongst his countrymen ; for glory in a half civUized
nation is ever the result of actions which so far sur
pass the capabUities of the ordinary race of men Avho

xxv.] THE DANES IN CORNWALL. 85
witness them, that they attribute such achievements
to sorae power more than human vested in the per
son of thefr hero, Avho speedUy becomes their God.
Such almost was Arthur with the Britons ; but
Avhatever might have been his valour or his success,
it appears he did not wholly subdue Cerdic, who,
after a struggle of several years, conquered many of
the western parts of this kingdom. His son Cynric
succeeded to the throne of Wessex ; and his grand
son Ceaulin obtained a great battle over the Britons
in Gloucestershire, Avhich so enabled him to enlarge
the extent of his kingdom, that he added to it those
shires now called Somerset and Devon.
Though the Saxons had gained thus far a per
manent footing in England, yet Ave have seen, by a
vast nuraber of facts, that the Britons were not
wholly subdued; since Cornwall and the adjacent
parts of Devon (in which no doubt Dartmoor, on the
borders of the latter, was included) raight still, in a
great measure, be called their own. For many years
a continual warfare had been kept up between the
Britons and Saxons, tUl Egbert, Avho succeeded
Brihtric in the throne of Wessex, in 801, after de
voting his first cares to the welfare pf his people,
attempted the difficult task of reducing the ancient
British chieftains to his obedience ; and the battle of
Hengist-doAvn was decisive, though he was not the
aggressor in that contest.
That the Danes made great havoc in these parts
at a subsequent period is Avell known. They burnt
the cathedral and palace of Launceston in Cornwall,
twelve miles from this town, Avhich caused the
bishop's see to be removed to St. Germain's; and the
ancient Saxon church there buUt still remains a

86 DEATH OF ORGAR. [lET.
beautiful object in the eye of the antiquary and the
artist. Lidford (of which more hereafter) was also
burnt and ravaged ; and to this day in Taristock we
have the foUoAring tradition respecting the havoc
they made here. After the Danes landed near
Danescombe, and met Arith a repulse on Hengist-
down, some of them escaped, crossed the Tamar, and
surprised Taristock, rushing into the town from a
rugged hUl by the side of the old Launceston road,
in those days said to have been the only entrance
from the West. The inhabitants armed to a man,
met them at the foot of the above-named hill ; a
great battle ensued, which gave rise to the oldadage —
" The blood which flowed down West Street
Would heave a stone a pound weight."
I am also informed (since I wrote my prerious
letters), that a tradition is stiU current in this place,
which asserts that Oakhampton Castle was a fa
vourite residence Arith Orgax, Earl of Devon. Not
having had an opportunity of acquainting myself
with the history of that castle, (whose singular and
romantic ruins I have seen Arith admfration,) I cannot
say how far this is likely to be false or true ; though
when that tradition adds, as it does, that Orgar was
residing there at the period Taristock Abbey Avas
burnt by the Danes, we know, by chronological
records, it must be incorrect; as he died twenty
years before the conflagration took place. Two or
three forts at the mouth of the Tamar, nearly op
posite Mount Edgecumbe, I am assured, axe consi
dered to have been very ancient constructions ; and
were most probably intended to protect the coast
from the incursions of these foreign marauders.

XXV.] RAVAGES BY THE DANES. 87
It was in the year 997 that a Danish fleet, under
the command of Sweyn, entered the Severn ; and
after numerous successful depredations, sailed round
the Land's End, and finally turned its course up the
Tamar. Though these invaders then burnt Lid
ford, they must have quitted their ships many miles
distant from that most ancient toAvn ; since never at
any period could the Tamar have been narigable
higher than New Bridge, three miles from Taristock.
They carried fire and sword throughout the country ;
and our abbey, but thirty-six years after its foun
dation, was plundered and burnt to the ground.
The marauders soon returned to thefr ships, laden
Arith the spoU they had accumulated.
Of the original building nothing perhaps remains,
unless Ave except one portion of the boundary walls,
(those of our garden,) Avhich must have been fire
proof, as there never was any lead or Avood work
about them ; and the blocks of stone of Avhich they
are composed are held together Arith a cement so
hard and admirable, that it appears to be like that
seen in the stupendous walls of Pevensey Castle, the
old Roman fortress on the Sussex coast.
The abbey thus burnt and ravaged, though it
remained for some time in ruins, was yet destined
like the fabled phoenix, to rise once more from its
ashes. By whom it was rebuUt is not, I believe,
exactly knoAvn ; most probably not by an indiridual,
but by many benefactors. Amongst these we may
number Le Arcedekne, Vepont, Ferrars, Fitz-Ber-
nard, Edgecumbe, and others. My brother con
siders that its re-erection Avas probably owing to the
exertions and UberaUty of Livingus, Avho was nephcAV
to Brithwald, Bishop of St. Germain's, in Cornwall.

88 LIVINGUS. [let.
This prelate is, indeed, so connected with the history
of our abbey, that it may not here be amiss to offer
some brief account of liim.
Hooker and Prince reckon him araongst the illus
trious natives of this county ; and the latter is care
ful in distinguishing him from Livingus, surnamed
Elstanus, Archbishop of Canterbury, who crowned
Canute king of England, and died in 1020.
Certain it is that the abbey must have been re-
erected in his time ; and so far finished as to be
capable of receiring the monks, since our Liringus
was some time abbot of Tavistock, and was advanced
to the see of Devon in 1032. His palace stood at
Crediton, and he Avas the last bishop who there
resided during life. Canute valued him for his piety
and Avisdom ; and so much Avas he in favour with that
king, that he made choice of the Bishop of Devon
shire as the companion of his journey to the tomb of
St. Peter and St. Paul at Rome. Returning in the
same year, 1031, Livingus found his uncle, Brith-
Avald, dead ; upon which Canute, from the great love
he bore to the companion of his pilgrimage, gave him
his late uncle's see of St. Germain's in CornwaU,
allovring him still to hold Crediton, and not long
after he added to these dignities by making him
Bishop of Worcester.
It is not improbable that such a plurality of pre
lacies being heaped on the favourite excited discon
tent in those who aspired to church preferment, and
who might think they Avere overlooked or neglected
for the sake of one man, in their oavu opinion not
more deserring than themselves. Hence might have
arisen envy, the fertile mother of falsehood and
slander ; and the Avorthy character of the prelate

XXV.] LIVINGUS. 89
proved to be no security against the shafts aimed at
him by such enemies as these : for he Avas charged
by Alfricus, Archbishop of York, as being accessary
to the death of Alfred, the eldest son of King
Ethefred; the archbishop having himself been re
moved from his own see but a short time before, on
account of his busy temper in secular affairs.
Alfred's death had been brought about by many
circumstances that excited a general feeling of com
miseration for the unfortunate young prince. Canute,
though he had engaged vrith the Duke of Normandy
that his issue by his marriage with Emma should
become his successors, nevertheless named Harold,
the son of a former union, his heir to the crown, to
the great discontent of the English ; who desired to
see Hardicanute, a prince born araong them, suc
ceed to the throne. The jealousies of these con
tending parties ran so high, that a civil Avar Avas
likely to be the result, Avhen a present peace Avas
secured by compromise. The terras were, that
Harold should hold the provinces north of the
Thames, and Hardicanute keep those on the south,
and during the absence of the last-named prince, his
mother Emma assumed the regal authority in the
place of her son.
But however secure Harold might appear to be
in his possessions, he thought himself not so Avhilst
the sons of Emma by her former husband, Ethel
red the Saxon, were in existence. Earl Godwin,
from motives of ambition, had espoused the interests
of Harold, and was kept firm to them by a hope
being held out that lus daughter should becorae the
Avife of that tyrant. He did not hesitate, therefore,
to join in the cruel plan now framed for the de-

90 LIVINGUS. [let.
struction of the young Saxon princes, Avho at this
time were Arith their mother, Queen Emma, at Win
chester ; and as some said, Avith a view to attempt
making good their pretensions to the crown. If
Harold knew, or only suspected their intentions, is a
matter of doubt ; but certain it is, he inrited Alfred,
the elder brother, to London, with every promise of
an honourable reception. Thus was he deceived;
and setting forward on his way, attended by many
followers, he had not proceeded farther than GuUd-
ford in Surrey, Avhen he was surprised by the treache
rous Earl GodAvin, his people slain, and himself,
cruelly deprived of sight, committed as a prisoner to
the monastery of Ely, where it pleased God to end
his suff"erings by a speedy death.
This cruel deed appears to have excited a general
feeling of indignation; and it is not improbable
Alfricus might seek to gain his OAvn restoration to
the see of York, by paying court to the popular feel
ing ; and to Harold, in the endeavour to fasten the
guUt of the murder on another man, when the Idng
was grievously suspected of being concerned in the
act. A bishop that held three sees in his own per
son was not, perhaps, he considered, the worst ob
ject he could fasten upon to make hun appear cri
minal; and the worthy Livingus was accordingly
vehemently accused by the deposed archbishop.
The affafr must have been unusually prolonged,
as not tUl the reign of Hardicanute did the artftJ
Alfricus so far succeed as to obtain the dismissal
of the innocent bishop fi-om his preferments in the
church. This deprivation did not, however, last
long. It is most probable that Liringus owed his
restoration not so much to his want of guUt, for that

XXV.] LIVINGUS. 91
was a poor plea against tyranny, as to the cunning
and the contemptible conduct of the king ; for Har-
dicauAite, notwithstanding his Avrath towards the
murderers of his half-brother, was mean and base
enough to accept a bribe (a gilded gaUey manned
by rowers decorated Arith bracelets of gold) from
Earl Godxrin, who thus found an easy way to
escape justice. In order to let him appear guUty,
it was necessary to acquit Livingus, who had been
so falsely accused as his accompUce in the crime.
These circumstances form the most probable solu
tion of the cause that procured the restoration of the
Bishop of Devonshire to all his honours; no small
instance of good fortune in the reign of such a
tyrant ; and this event seems to be the last of any
public import in the hfe of Liringus. His latter
days were spent in peace, in the regular discharge of
his episcopal duties, and in the innocent and deUght
ful pursuits of letters. He composed during his
retirement a work, Avhich, could it now be recovered,
wou.ld form, indeed, one of the curiosities of Utera
ture ; according to Prince's translation, its title was
" Canute's Pilgrimage, and his OAvn Doings."
Livingus, notArithstanding all his troubles, lived
through the reigns of four kings ; a thing not very
common with one so eminent, who had been assailed
by the envy and jealousy of others in times so
marked by riolence and injustice. Historians and
antiquaries differ as to the place of his death ; but
Hooker is of opinion that it occurred at his favourite
Monastery of Tavistock; of which he had been
chosen the first abbot after its rebuUding, and
where his munificence had been so largely displayed.
However his mind might be at rest at the time of

92 LIVINGUS. [let.
. his dissolution, he could hardly be said to depart in
peace ; since the monks have recorded that, at the
A-ery hour of his decease, the greatest storm shook
aU England that had been felt for many years.—
" Horrisonus crepitus per totam AngUam auditus, ut
ruina et finis totius putareter orbis." Prince, however,
is of opinion that this " horrible crack of thunder," as
he calls it, " did rather prognosticate the ruin Avhich
threatened the liberties of England" on that great
change which so speedily succeeded, in the invasion
of our island by William the Conqueror. Be this as
it may, Liringus died as the Avorthy would Arish to
die, in a good old age, in favour Avith God and man.
He Avas buried in the Abbey Church of Tavistock.
Hooker says he departed this life on the 23d of
March, 1049; but the Saxon Chronicle fixes that
event in 1044, Avhen it siraply states, "This year
-Living, Bishop of Devonshire, died, and the king's
priest Leofric succeeded hira."
Another remarkable person also ended his days
in our abbey in these early times ; and he was Edwy
Atheling, a son of King Ethelred, grandson of
Elfrida, and great grandson of Orgar, the founder.
Alarmed by the jealousy of Canute, Avho, like his
son Harold, looked with an eye of suspicion on the
princes of the Saxon line, Edwy sought a refuge in
the abbey : he did not very long survive, and was
buried in the church; no vestige remains of his
tomb. Many noble persons were munificent patrons of
the monastic foundation of Taristock. WiUiam
Rufus, in the year 1096, confirmed to the monks a
mansion called Walsinton, Avhich they made it ap
pear they had a right to consider their oAvn, time out

XXV.] BENEFACTORS OF TAVISTOCK. 93
of mind, though some busy men on the part of the
croAvn would have depriA'ed them of that possession.
The grant of Walsinton was confirraed to Ta
vistock in the presence of Walchaline, Bishop of
Winchester, Turstin, superior of Glastonbury, and
other ecclesiastics, by the king presenting to the
abbot an iA'ory laiife, on the handle of Avhich Avcre
these Avords: — Ego WHUelmus Rex dedi Deo, et
Sanctse Marise de Taristoc terrain Wlerintune.
From Dugdale, we Ukewise learn that Robert
Old Bridge gave to the abbey the lands of Wyne-
merston, on a stipulation that the lord abbot should
pay to him ten marks in silver, with liberty for him
to take up his abode Avithin the Avails whenever he
might Avish to retire from the Avorld; and in the
interval, that, every day he should visit or continue
in TaA'istock, he might claim the alloAvance given to
one monk, if he chose to ask for it.
Robert Fitz BaldArin restored the lands of Passe-
ford. King Henry I. ordered Rinberg and Eu-
delipe, which had been taken from the monks, to
be restored. He granted to them likeAvise all the
churches in the isles of Scilly, confirmed to them by
his son Reginald, Earl of Cornwall, the tithes of
which were granted to the abbey by the Bishop of
Exeter at that period. King Edward took the
church of the island of Enmour, in SciUy, under his
protection, ordering the constable of the castle there
to guard the same from all insults and injuries.
By deed of " Odo le Arcedeakne," knight, bearing
date the day of St. Mark the EvangeUst, the seven
teenth of EdAvard I., he resigns to the monks for
the health of his own soul, and the souls of all
his famUy, the lands of Westlydeton ; and the said

94 BENEFACTORS OF TAVISTOCK. [lET.
monks for the good of their oAvn souls, in the year
1291, appropriated all the revenues of these lands
to the purchase of clothes and shoes for the poor in
Christ, to be yearly distributed among them on the
feast of All Souls.
By an agreement between the Abbot of Taristock
and the Prior of Plymton, the latter obUged himself
and his successors to do certain acts of suit and
serrice to the former ; namely, to attend the abbot,
at his OAvn charges, whenever he made his risitation
¦within the diocese of Exeter ; to proride him with
sundry loaves of white bread, two flagons of Arine,
and five wax tapers, whenever he risited his manor
of Plymstocke ; to present every new abbot Arith a
palfrey and a groom during his perambulation ; to
confirm his rights, until the day of his instalment;
and on the feast of St. Michael, to proride him Arith
a chaplain, who was a good clerk, for the chm-ch of
Plymstocke. Bronscombe, the celebrated Bishop of Exeter *,
appropriated to our abbey the churches of Tavis
tock, Lamerton, Middleton, Abbedesham, North-
pyderAvyn, Hatherleigh, and Brentor. The bull of
Pope Celestin, dated 1193, confirmed all donations
made to this house, and all pririleges whatsoever. In
the year 1280, Reginald Ferrars, the Lord of Beer,
"* His tomb, iu Exeter Cathedral, still exists, and for the pure
style and beauty of its execution ranks amongst the finest in Europe.
The attitude in which the figure reposes, the head, limbs and dra
peries, remind one, in their grandeur and simplicity, of the works of
Raphael. It is much to be regretted that about ten years since,
the workmen, in repairing the cathedral, knocked off a hand from
this effigy, and displaced au angel that supported the head. The
latter was restored; but no one having felt interest enough about
the tomb to inquire for the hand, it was, I believe, never found.

XXV.] WEALTH OF THE ABBOTS. 95
and Isota of Ferrars, of Nyweton Ferrars, gave to
the monks of the abbey of Taristock aU their lands
in Cornewoode, on thefr performing the customary
homage for the same.
In the second of Richard IL, WilUam Edge
cumbe, of Cotele, resigned to the abbey aU claim on
the park of Innersleigh, in the manor of Middleton,
and John D' Abernon of Bradeford, gave to the same
house all his manor of Wyke, near Brentor, and his
lands and tenements at HolyweU. Many other
were the benefactors to this costly foundation ; but
I have here mentioned the principal.
Over this monastery presided thfrty-six abbots,
from its institution to the time of its dissolution.
Two of these, Livingus and Aldred, were made
bishops ; the latter is said to have placed the croAvn
on the head of William the Conqueror. John
Dynington, who was the superior in 1450, Avas
charged by one of the Bishops of Exeter Arith too
much attention to the adornment of his person, and
possibly Arith some truth ; as he was the man who
stirred the question Arith King Henry VI., that
the abbots of Taristock should be aUowed to
enjoy the privUege of wearing the pontificalia —
the licence for which I shall presently copy from
my brother's notices. Its particularity forms a very
good iUustration of the ecclesiastical vestments of
the time. If, however, John Dynington had a too
curious taste in his attire, it should seem he did not
confine his attention to outward things of that de
scription ; and that he was not less attentive to the
edifices of his community. My brother says of him :
"Dynington probably made large repafrs and addi
tions to the buUdings of the abbey, as most of the

98 POVERTY OF A PARISH PRIEST. [lET.
remains of these now extant are characterized by the
deep label moulding, and obtusely pointed arch
which became the prevailing characteristics of Gothic
architecture toAvards the close of the fifteenth cen
tury. The great gate of the abbey is decorated Avith
two minarets of this period, and the parapet of its
pointed roof is crenellated and embattled ; certainly
a misapplication of the crenellated forra, and a
speciraen of perverted taste."
Whilst the abbot and his monks Avere, as above
stated, grown rich, and had all things subservient to
their desires and their luxuries, the poor parish
priest was labouring Avith indigence and Avant. Some
few years since, among the papers in the parish
chest, Avas found a petition from the officiating priest
to the parishioners assembled in the vestrj', abso
lutely begging for a pair of shoes ! The document,
Avhich Avas found and read by my husband's father,
is no longer in existence, (at least Ave find no traces
of it,) or I should here insert it. From this petition
Ave may gather that the Avorthy monks who took such
care of their OAvn, souls, as to give aAvay the reve
nues of Westlydeton in apparel and shoes to the
"poor in Christ," did not consider their poor brother
of the secular clergy to be of that number, and so they
let him go barefoot. This is a trifling cfrcumstance,
but in such trifles as these Ave may trace the spirit of
jealousy betAveen the monks and the parish priests,
that commenced in the time of Dunstan, and was
never after AvhoUy set at rest. Truly the officiating
minister Avas not overwhelmed Arith this world's
goods, and Avith him they seem little to have re
garded the text, that those who preach the gospel
¦should live by the gospel; for Avhilst the abbot of

XXV.] BENEDICTINE MONKS. 97
Tavistock was, in the reign of Henry VIII., ho
nored with a mitre, and made a peer of the realm,
by the title of Baron of HurdAvick (Avhich is now one
of the titles of the Duke of Bedford, to Avhose ances
tors the lands of the abbey were granted at the dis
solution,) and enjoyed revenues of nearly one thou
sand a-year, in those days an enormous income ; the
poor priest of Tavistock Church was only entitled
to ten pounds per annum.
John Banham, the abbot Avho received the mitre,
and Avas called to Parliament by Henry VIII. the
same year, maintained a long- contest Avith Hugh
Oldham, Bishop of Exeter, about the liberties of his
church, and was so far successfril that he gained the
sanction ofthe Pope for Avhat he did, who excommu
nicated the luckless Bishop but a short time before
his death ; so that his body could not be buried till
this fearful sentence was reraoA'ed by an application
to Rorae.
I have a foAV observations to add concerning the
order of monks here established during so long a
period, and then, for the present, I raust say adieu.
In the Anglo-Saxon monasteries, where there Avas
much of true holiness, as Avell as of superstition, the
utmost simplicity prevailed in regard to dress, espe
cially after the Benedictine rule had, in the ninth cen
tury, usurped that of all others in England. Here,
then, may Ave fancy that we see the good Livingus
in his Benedictine attire, — a tunic and coavI, black in
colour, and, in his day, formed of the coarsest wool
len stuff; a broad belt girds his garments about the
middle, from which depends his almonier, or little
pouch ; he carries about him a knife, a steel pen, and
a table-book to note down his thoughts; a rosary
A'OL. II. F

98 BENEDICTINE MONKS. [leT.
is by his side ; a cross suspended on his breast ; his
black mantle is large and full, and, as an abbot, he
has a right to wear it Arithout as Avell as within the
church. The brothers of his order Avear a black scapula as
their ordinary or working dress ; they also have a
cowl, but their long woollen mantle is Avorn only in the
churcli. In addition to the knife, each monk is sup
pUed Avith a needle, and, those Avho are most holy,
vrith a rod, to inflict on themselves, in the most Uteral
manner, " JIuch castigation, exercise devout."
Hair shirts Avere, likewise, often worn ; they Avere in
deed of very ancient date, and had, no doubt, their
origin in the East ; for St. Chrysostom mentions the
hair shirt as forming part of the dress of the oriental
monks. I am inclined to think that such hair shirt
was not one of torture, and that Chrysostom referred
to the material of Avliich eastern clothing was then
generally made — the camel and the goats' hair. In
other countries a less delicate material might have
been adopted, and became an irritating and trouble
some dress Avhen worn next the skin. But as Ave
know that to this day the camel' s-hair shawls of
India are the softest in the world, how can we be
Ueve that the early eastern clothing formed of it
could have been anything like a garb of torture ?
The monks in the times of the Anglo-Saxons
were bare-legged, and their " shoon " resembled the
classical sandal. Fosbrooke in his very learned
work on monachism, mentions that risiters were re
ceived among them, the holy men " giring- them wa
ter to cleanse their hands, washing their feet, vriping
them Arith a towel, and inriting them to dine at nine

XXV.] BENEDICTINE MONKS. 99
o'clock in the morning." And the rule of Pacho-
mius orders "that the feet of visiters be washed,
even if clerks or holy monks."
The Benedictines Avere celebrated for their charity
and hospitality to strangers ; a noble hall is gene
rally found in the edifices of their order. There was
one at Taristock ; but all account of Avhat still re
mains of the abbey I must defer till ray next letter.
In the interval.
Allow me to remain, my dear Sir,
Very faithfully and truly yours,
Anna E. Bray.

f2

100

LETTER XXVI.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.
Contents. — Dissolution of the Abbey — Devastation of the Reforma
tion—Henry VIII. not governed by religious motives in throwing
off the yoke of Rome— His Six Articles— Cupidity of his courtier?
and dependents— Their selfishness in the spoliation of the Church
— Sixtfenth century one of great corruption — The time of chas
tisement — Immediate evils attending the ruin of monasteries —
Reformed Clergy, with few exceptions, ignorant men — Indecency
and impiety in the spoliation of the abbey churches — Edward VI.,
his amiable character — Fiery trial reserved for the holy martyrs
of fhe Reformation — Learned and pious men who fiourishedjn the
succeeding reigns, particularly in that of Charles I. — Cardinal
Maury's opinion not founded on truth — Subject resumed — Dissolu
tion of Tavistock Abbey — Last abbot — Grant of the abbey lands to
the Russell family — Mr. Bray's acc(mut ofthe remains ofthe abbey
buildings — Chapter-house taken down — Havoc amongst the anti
quities — Recent discoveries — The gateway S. W. — Betsy Grimbal's
tower — Murder there committed — Superstition respecting it — The
porch-pinuacle — Bones of an infant found in breaking into a wall —
Abbot's bail — Refectory — Sarcophagus — Giant's bones — Saxon
school — Tower remiirkable for masonry — Parish church — Extracts
from some very curious old churchwarden's accounts — Old paint
ings on panel^The church-j'ard — The bells — Singular custom of
the sextou at funerals — Superstition of Midsummer eve — Death of
the Luggars — Their story related — Muffled bells at their funeral —
Fjtz and Glanviile, their monuments — Honorary monument fo
Queen Elizabeth ; to Fortescue — Altar, decorated — Gothic table—
Saxun school — Printing press — Books printed in the abbey — Ex
tract, given at large, from the Rev. George Oliver's most interesting
account of all fhe abbots of Tavistock, copied by him from the Re
gistry of the Bishops preserved at Exeter.
Vicarage, Tavistock, August 29, 1832.
My DEAR Sir,
The next event which I have to communicate
respecting our abbey is its dissolution ; an occur-

XXVI.] OF THE REFORMATION. 101
rence not only in this instance, but in all others
throughout the kingdom, sincerely to be regretted
by every unprejudiced Protestant, for surely the mo
nasteries, as well as the church, might have been
reformed Avithout being entirely overthrown.
You have so ably expressed your opinion on this
point, in the 'Colloquies,' and I have A'entured to give
mine, in a former letter, on the sarae subject, that
little need here be said, unless it be to regi-et that
violence, that angry spirit Avhich generally accom
panies all great changes, even when they are ulti
mately a benefit; so much does enmity or passion
mingle its leaven with the best things — a sad proof
of the imperfection of human nature, and a no less
salutary Avarning to show how careful all should be
Avho venture to touch on ancient institutions, lest
they do more than is necessary, and in their haste
overthrow that which they can never afterwards re
pair. Old buUdings, like old customs and laAvs, are
not the groAvth of a day ; years of labour and gene
rations of Avisdom have been as the parents of both,
and pity is it that a few months or days of innovation,
and a few thoughtless or violent men should make
such destruction, and render all the toils of the past
as nothing.
The benefits of the Reformation are Avell under
stood, the sins of it have been less noticed; and that
good came out of so rauch evil was more the result
of divine than human causes. God, in the Avisdom
of his inscrutable counsels, AVorks by means that on
a first view soraetimes appear contradictory. Bad
men are frequently but as his instruments, Avhile they
seem to folloAV the career of their own selfish oir
stormy passions ; for in the end we generally find

102 OF THE REFORMATION. [lET.
he but employs them, as he does the Ughtning and
the Avinds, to clear away what is noxious, to purify,
or to renovate ; when the beautiful and the serene
in the moral AVorld foUoAV after ; even as the bow of
promise, and a bright sun, and a refreshed earth
succeed the disturbance and turmoil of the elements
in that physical Avorld Avhich lies before our vicAV.
That Henry VIII., when he throAv off the yoke
of Rome, Avhen he repudiated a blameless wife, and
overthroAV monasteries and abbies, was really a re
former for the sake of the reformed faith, no one, I
beUeve, of any party, for a moraent even fancies.
His Six Articles are sufficient proof that it Avas the
restraining power, and not the corrupt doctrine of
the Church of Rorae, that he was anxious to destroy ;
and the cupidity, the pride, the extravagant living of
his himgry dependents and courtiers caught eagerly
at the lure that such rich prizes as desecrated church
lands held out, and — " doAvn with the monasteries for
their abuses " was then the plea ; Avhen the cry of
the daughter of the horse-leech, " Give, give," Avould
better have expressed the motive.
That the sixteenth century was one of great cor
ruption, of great immorality, of much false religion,
and of many enormities in its professors, cannot be
denied. The time was ripe for chastisement, and
God sent the storm, and idolatry and falsehood, in
this country, fell before it. But the imme dia,te ef
fects were, perhaps intended, as they were found to
be, an eril. For, saring a fcAV such men as Latimer
and Cranmer, how long was it before the reformed
clergy, who succeeded the OA'erthrow of the popish
priests, were truly worthy their high caUing as guides
and leaders of the flock of Christ !

XXVI.] OF THE REFORMATION. 103
Poor brings found but poor scholars and needy
men to fill their place. The clergy were degraded
into an impoverished and dependent body in the
eyes of the people ; and conterapt with the vulgar
was the certain consequence of such misfortunes :
since base men OA'er look on poA'erty as a crime —
they respect what a man has more than Avhat he is ;
and though the populace were no longer allowed to
feed their imagination Avith the splendid shows, or
the candles, and the flowers, and the images of the
Church of Rome, their reason was not rauch raore
enlightened than whilst it had been held in its
former state of darkness. The idol Superstition was
torn away ; but the pedestal, on which she stood
erect. Ignorance, stiU remained, and too many made
it as an altar of sacrifice to the spirit of evil against
the church. Can we then wonder that to rifle
abbeys, to riolate the sanctuary, to tear doAvn the
noblest monuments of piety and of art (Avhich our
forefathers ih singleness of heart had oflfered as a
habitation fit for the Avorship of their God) ; to com
mit sacrilege, deface the effigies of the great, the
noble, and the good, to disturb from their place of
repose the mouldering ashes of the dead, to seize the
very plate from the altar, and, like the impious king
of old, to raake it subservient to the purposes of
luxury and indulgence, were things that the bold,
the avaricious, and the heartless did without remorse ;
whilst the fearful looked on and trembled, and the
Aricked and the ignorant looked on and laughed.
These were the sins of the Reformation. As the
poor lost the charity of those ancient houses whose
doors had been ever open to relieve them, the old
and the pious, (for there were many;) who had re-

104 EDWARD THE SIXTH. [lET.
tired from a world of Avhich they Avere grown Aveary,
were once more cast upon its stormy waters, when
they were but themselves a Avreck, and could no
longer stem the torrent, or Avith a safe conscience
sail doAvn the current of the times. But these moral
evils had their date ; and though days of misery, of
persecution, and of soitoavs " even unto death," in
tervened, the sun of the Reformation at length came
forth from the cloud, and the harvest and the joy
spread beneath its beams.
The guardian king, Avho Avatched its progress with
so much zeal and love, was too soon snatched fi-om
this world to one Avhere his pure spirit Avas destined
to find its early and rich roAvard. Happy for himself,
but grievous for England, Edward died before even
his days of such glorious proraise had ripened into
manhood. He lived not to bless this country Arith
an age "full of years and full of honours ;" but to
him may truly be applied Avhat a French writer said
of a Dauphin of France, Avho also died in his youth :
" That heaven, counting his virtues, esteemed him
old, and took him to his rest."
The day of the fiery trial was next reserved for
the Reformation ; and as the holy martyrs stood in
prayer and agony, (like their Redeemer in the gar
den,) burning at the stake, the spirit of the Re
formed Church caught brightness from their flames,
and came forth from them, as did the brothers from
the fiery furnace, glorifying God in the face of aU the
Avorld. The church had stood the trial and approved
itself Avorthy, and God removed the flaming sword
from the tree of life, and gave the olive branch in its
stead. From that time, down to the days of Charles the

Xxvi.] LIGHTS OF THE REFORMATION. 105
First, great and shining lights arose in succession ;
and not since the days of the Fathers, Avho came
after the apostles, have, perhaps, so many truly
gi-eat divines been found in any church as iii that of
the Reformed and Established Church of England.
In proof of this, Avho that feels a pride in the virtue,
the genius, the piety of his native land, can do other
than glory in repeating the names of Hooker, the au
thor ofthe 'Ecclesiastical Polity;' — of Fuller, Avhose
sermons, though, like those of the admirable Lati
mer, somoAvhat quaint, are only less.valued than his
Church History because they are less known ; — of
the learned and orthodox Brownrigg ; — of Hall,
venerable aUke in his writings and his life; — ofthe
pious and single-hearted Bishop Andrews ; — of the
apostolic Jeremy Taylor ;— the admirable AUestree
and Donne ; — of Raleigh, (the nephew of the great
Sir Walter Raleigh,) avIio was basely murdered in
his prison, Avhere he had been consigned for ad
hering to the cause of his unfortunate master, Charles
the First ? Of this divine, ChillingAvorth said, " he
Avas the most powerful reasoner he had ever encoun
tered;" and Raleigh's sermon on one of the most
difficult points of doctrine — that of election con
sistent Avith free-Avill— is argued Avith such clearness
and strength, that there needs no other proof how
Avell merited Avas the eulogium of his friend. But
Avhat praise shall speak the excellencies of Far
rindon ? of Farrindon, now slumbering in neglect,
but whose Avorks must surely one day be revived;
and Avhose power to touch the heart, though it were
hard as a rock, and make it yield a spring of living
Avaters, has never yet been exceeded by any Avriter of
any age ; — of Beveridge, Avhose sermon on the text
f3

106 LIGHTS OF THE REFORMATION. [lET.
" I am that I am," Steele (to whom many of the
obsolete diAnines were unknown) considered the
finest in our language. Barrow is known to every
student ; but not so Harris, who preached in Lon
don during the plague, Arith the fearlessness, the
devx)tion, and the poAver of a true servant of God,
sent at such a moment to call all men to repentance.
Had Cardinal Maury, the author of the celebrated
French work on the 'Eloquence ofthe Pulpit,' known
the writings of these men (and many others might
be named) he would never have said that we had
neither a Masillon, nor a Bourdaloue, nor a Bossuet
in our English dirinity ; nor Avould he have con
sidered the only old divine Avith whom he seems to
be really acquainted in our language, the sensible
and worthy Tillotson, as our best sermonist. But
no Avonder that foreigners underrate us, Avhen we
underrate ourselves, and suffer the works of such a
man as Farrindon to remain only in a fcAV scarce
copies, unread, neglected, almost totally unknoAvn,
whilst Ave continuall}' reprint the AArritings of Barrow
and Taylor, as if they (excellent as they are) Avere
the only Avorks AVorthy of becoming standard in the
divinity of our Established Church'^.
To return, hoAvever, from this digression to our
abbey. In the notices before quoted, and Avi-itten by
* For the delight afforded me in the perusal of these old divines,
I am indebted to Mr. Biay, by whose advice I read many of their best
works. He published some years ago a compressed and modernized
selection from several of them. Indeed he had studied these writers
as sedulously as a painter would study iu the schools of the great
Italian masters. Since then his attention has been turned to original
composition ; but he had previously prepared (and still has by him
unpublished), a large collection, in a readable and popular form, from
these old writers, as well as translations from the most eloquent of Ihe

XXVI.] TAVISTOCK ABBEY. 107
my brother, I find he thus speaks of the circum
stances attending its dissolution : — " John Pyryn
succeeded Banham, and, with the monks assembled
in chapter, surrendered the abbey to the King's
commissioners on the 20th March, 1538. Of the
tAventy-two signatures which appear on the margin
of the deed of surrender, the follovring may be noted-
The abbot and the prior sign first — ' Per me Joh'ero
Abbate,' ' per me Robertu Walsh, priore' — then in
discriminately are found — 'Joh'es Harriss, sub-prior.
Rye (Ricardus) custos,' &c. The abbot retired on
a pension of one hundred pounds per annum, at that
period a very large one ; the prior had a stipend of
ten pounds per annum ; the sub-prior one of eight
pounds ; the monks from six pounds to five pounds
six shillings and eight-pence each ; and two novices
Avere allowed two pounds per annum. The abbot
continued to reside at Tavistock '*, in the enjoyraent
of the corafortable provision which had been as
signed hinh : at which place, in the year 1549, he
made his Avill, which being proved in April, 1550,
we may conclude that he died about that time.
" The dissolved Abbey of Tavistock and its depen
dencies Avere, by the King's letter-patent, dated the
fourth of July, in the thirty-first year of his reign,
granted to John Lord Russel, Ann his wife, and thefr
lawful heirs raale, at a certain reserved rent -j-. Lord
Russel had been received into the favour of Henry
VII., knighted by his successor, and created a baron
Fathers. It is to be hoped these may all one day see the light, as iu
the present scarce and voluminous state of many of the original
authors, they are little likely, in any other way, to become kuown to
the general reader.
* The old house in which he lived has' lately beea taken down.
-j- See Farm Roll, Augmentation Office.

108 THE RUSSEL FAMILY. [lET.
of the realm ; nominated Lord Warden of the Stan
naries in Devon and Cornwall, Lord Privy Seal, and
one of the Councillors of Edward VI., during his
minority. He was constituted Lord High SteAvard
at the coronation of that youthful monarch, and on
the insurrection which broke out at Sampford Cour
tenay, in Devon, and Avhich Avas followed by the
siege of the capital of the West, Exeter, Lord Rus
sel marched against the rebels, totally routed and
dispersed them. For these services he was shortly
after created Earl of Bedford. It is not the object
of these notes to enter at length into the history of
this ancient and noble house ; suffice it to say, that
William, the fifth descendant from the Earl, was, in
the reign of William and Mary, created Marquis of
Tavistock and Duke of Bedford, and his present
Avorthy descendant, John Duke of Bedford, is in
possession of the lands and ecclesiastical impropri
ations of the dissolved abbey."
Having thus come to the dissolution of our mo
nastery, something must here be said concerning
the portions of the ancient buildings that still exisfc
notAvithstanding the havoc so largely and so repeat
edly made amongst them. For this purpose I have
been looking over Mr. Bray's manuscript notes,
Avritten several years since, respecting the remains
of Tavistock Abbey. These observations raay not
have so much interest as he could wish ; but as some
of the vestiges he mentions are now no longer in
existence, the notes of Avhat he saw and described in
his youth ought to be preserved. I have gleaned
from a mass of papers Avhat folloAVs in this letter.
"The site," says Mr. Bray, "of the abbey ex
tends from east to Avest along the north bank of the

XXVI.] folly ORCHARD. 109
river Tavy. The principal entrance was at the
north, close to the eastern boundary. This gateway
is in high preservation, Avith its gate at least as
perfect as that at Temple Bar ; to which it bears
some resemblance, by having on one side a postern,
or foot passage *. There are two other gateways
to the south and Avest, the former of which leads to
the banks of the river, Avhere, till GuUe or Abbey-
bridge Avas erected, there was a ford ; and the latter
to the abbot's gardens and stew ponds, which still
exist f .
" About one hundred years ago, a considerable
portion of these venerable edifices was taken down, to
erect on the spot the large but inconvenient building
commonly called the Abbey-house. This havoc Avas
committed by a Mr. Saunders, Avho, not for these
barbarities, however, but for buUding so large a
house on another man's property, was, and in a
manner is still ridiculed, by the name of Folly
Orchard being given to sorae grounds Avhich he oc
cupied Arith it. I never understood, as some assert,
that he Avas the Duke of Bedford's steward ; at any
rate he certainly Avas not a wise one. A very old
and inteUigent lady of this place. Miss Adams, who
remembers Saunders's wife, informs me that part of
the building which he tore down Avas a school- house.
Some have supposed that it Avas the Saxon school
"* Mr. Bray tells me that ever since his remembrance, till very lately,
this gateway was used by a fellmonger for drying wool. Under the
flight of steps leading to it was the clink; but it is uow destroyed,
and he beUeves it was of no very ancient date. The place where
prisoners are now confined is situated very near, though it does not
communicate with the gateway, but with the ancient guildhall.
f This is no longer the case, recent alterations have destroyed all
but one of the stew ponds.

110 S.W. GATEWAY [lET.
and chapter-house, which Prince (who Avrote mot
very long before Saunders comraitted these spo
liations) thus describes. ' There is still standing
the refectory, or common hall ; a very spacious room,
of great length, breadth, and height, lately con
verted into a Non-conformist meeting-house ; and
the Saxon school and chapter-house, a pile of great
beauty, built so round as can possibly be marked
with a compass; yet Arithal of large dimensions,
there being on the inside thereof six-and-thirty seats
wrought out in the Avails, all arched overhead vrith
curious hewn and carved stone *.'
" The gateway S.W." continues Mr. Bray, "com
municated with the gardens and pleasure-ground
of the abbey : it consists of a vaulted passage about
nine paces in length, and eight feet in height,
between two towers, that present to the front the
three apparent sides of an octagon. The southern
* Prince also says — "The abbots' palace was a glorious building,
now wholly demolished ; of very late years was the kitchen standing,
now razed to the foundation, being a large square room, open to the
roof, which was of timber so geometrically done, that eveu architects
themselves did admire the curiosity thereof."
Recent discoveries have proved that it was the chapter-house which
Saunders, of barbarous memory, thus destroyed. In fhe year 1830, on
making some additions to the Bedford Office, which stauds close to
the abbey-house (now an inn), part of the beautiful pavement of the
chapter-house, consisting of tiles, bearing the figures of lions and
fishes, was discovered. Mr. Kempe says of this — "that the lion
passant, or rampant, has been borne in the armorial coat of the Earls
of Cornwall ever since the time of Reginald (base son of Henry I..
a benefactor to our abbey), and that by the fishes some allusion to the
possessions in fhe Scilly Isles may be intended." I observed amongst
the rubbish dug up on the spot where the tiles were found, part of a
Gothic niche, beautifully carved, and still retaining its red aud other
colours, for it had been painted. The sight of this fragment made
me but the more regret the miserable destruction which such a man
as Saunders had been allowed to effect.

XXVI.] grimbal's TOWER. 'Ill
tower, called Betsey Grimbal's, is so. denominated
from a tradition that a woman thus named was there
murdered by a soldier. Within my own recollec
tion, there Avere many who pretended to shoAv where
the Avail Avas stained Avith her blood ; and when a
child I was so little of a sceptic as firraly to believe
that it Avas haunted, and never ventured to visit it
alone. But, setting aside the Avant of verisimilitude
in this vulgar fabrication, which from the locality of
the situation should rather have suggested the story
of some fair nun murdered, not by the hands of a
soldier, but by some jealous monk, or enamoured
abbot (of Avhich I fear there were not a few, as a tale
I have to relate may lead one to suspect), the stains
in the wall, or rather the plaster Avhich still adheres
to it in some places, are solely the effects of damp.
Probably some iron-stone, of Avhich there is a great
quantity in the neighbourhood, corroded by the wet,
tinged the drops of a ferruginous or red colour
that percolated through the cracks. However, al-
loAving rauch for fabrication, we raay fairlj' conclude
that the story had its origin from some circumstance
in which a female was concerned, and that some act
of violence Avas committed on this spot.
" At the back of the Abbey-house (now the
Bedford Arms; stands a porch, croAvned with four
lofty pinnacles, partially covered with the most lux
uriant ivy. The ceiling of the vaulted entrance is
of elegantly carved stone work;
" The upper room is also vaulted Arith pendent
wood work. In it is a chimney. As there was no
communication to it, the door-way in a different
direction being blocked up, a passage was broken
through the wall a few years since, near one ot

112 SARCOPHAGUS. [lET.
the corners, Avhere was a hoUoAv buttress or tur
ret. Here sorae infant bones Avere found ; parts of
the scull, sorae of the vertebra; and a thigh bone,
which are stiU in ray possession *. The porch here
described leads to what Avas supposed to be the
Abbots' HaUf.
" In making the foundation for the Abbey-house,
the workmen dug up, according to tradition, a stone
coffin, or sarcophagus, containing the bones now
deposited in the. church, and called the giants
bones. The sarcophagus is still in existence, and in
my possession. Tt is very thick, but no more than
four and a half feet long in the interior, and eighteen
• The bones above alluded to by Mr. Bray are those of a veri/
young child, most probably a new-born infant. He keeps them in a
carved horn box that belonged to the famous Sir Francis Drake.
There is a passage in Fox's Book of Martyrs, which I well remember,
though I have mislaid the note I made of it, wherein it was stated
that at the dissolution of monasteries in this kingdom, the bones of
infants were sometimes found in places where no such discoveries
seemed likely to be suspected.
f Whilst copying the above from Mr. Bray's old papers, he tells me
that in Lysons' Devon, Vol. ii. p. 474, he is referred to for supposing
that the apartment till within the last three years used as a ball-room,
and now taken down to give place to the new one, was the refectory.
This supposition, which Mr. Bray mentioned to Mr. Lysons, arose
from his father having told him that it was so called in the Duke of
Bedford's rentals ; and that what Browne Willis calls the Refectory
was the Abbots' Hall. But he now rather doubts his father's cor
rectness in this particular, especially as, for the same reason, the late
Mr. Bray considered the Saxon school was under the ball-room,
which does not correspond with the description given by Prince or
Willis. He is the more disposed to think the latter antiquary right in
regard to the Refectory (still used as a Unitarian meeting-house) as
the Rev. Dr. Jago, of Mdton Abbt.t, an aged gentleman, tells him that
he recollects a stone pulpit that was affixed to the side of the wall iu
this apartment. It is well known that sermons or homilies were read to
the monks whilst at dinner ; and the custom is still observed in some
religious houses ou the continent.

xxvi.] bones OF ORDULPH. 113
and a quarter inches in depth. It is not much unlike
the shape of a coffin, being larger in the middle than
at either end. The bones are of an extraordinary
size, both human thigh bones. One raeasures twenty
one inches long by five inches and a half in circum
ference. The other is nineteen inches and a half
long, by four inches and a half in circuraference.
On the authority of Mr. Jaraes Cole, the sexton, Avho
shoAvs thera Avith the church, they are said to be the
ijones of Ordulph and his Avifc*. And though I
presume not to assert that Ordulph, being himself a
giant, Avould be content with less than a giantess for
his partner, yet it seems not improbable that the
smaUer bone might have been that of his father,
Orgar, Earl of Devon.
" From the size of the sarcophagus, if we suppose
a giant Avas there deposited, he must have been
tied neck and heels together. It is possible, in
deed, that the bones might have been collected
long after death and there placed as relics. And
I am the more inclined to this opinion, as we know
in AA'hat veneration the reUcs of the founder of an
abbey were ahvays held ; and that father and son,
who Avere the co-founders of our monastery, Avere
both buried in it. There is every reason to be
lieve f that the tomb of Orgar was not only
repaired, but absolutely rebuilt, in the reign of
Henry III. At that period, therefore, the bones
of himself and of his son might have been collected
and placed together. Or it is not impossible that
the pious monks, on rebuilding the tomb of their
» Malmesbury expressly declares Ordulph was of gigantic stature.
f See Letter xxiii., Vol. ii.

114 the REFECTORY. [lET.
founders, (after the abbey and its church had been
burnt and ravaged by the Danes) might even then
have exhumed and deposited their bones in one
common sarcophagus, which had remained undis
covered tUl the work of destruction was again com
menced Avithin these hallowed enclosures by the
barbarians of modern times, who dug them up in
forming the foundations for the Abbey -house so
often naraed, Avhen that of the ancient chapter Avas
torn doAvn to make room for it.
" There are sorae interesting and picturesque re
mains, croAA'ned Avitli thefr lofty pinnacles, of the
buUdings belonging to the abbey, yet standing in
good preservation near the principal entrance at the
north. Amongst them may be observed a tower, re
markable for the beauty of its masonry. The ad
joining apartments, in the occupation of a miller,
overlook the river Tavy ; and seen from the oppo
site bank, present altogether an admirable subject
for the pencil of an artist like Prout.
" 1 have omitted to mention that the old ball-room,
erroneously called tl;ic Refectory, stood nearly north
by south : it is on the first floor ; and I have reason
to think communicated with Avhat Avas considered the
Abbots' HaU (and which BroAATie WilUs, I doubt
not correctly, declared to haA'e been the Refectory),
by means of a gaUery. The old ball-room had also
a passage of communication Arith the Abbey-house.
WhUst my father Uved there, several years since, I
restored some of the Avindows, Avhich had been plas
tered over, when the muUions of the others were
destroyed for the purpose of introducing modern
sash Arindows ; the taste, I conclude, of Mr. Saun
ders, who seems to have spared neither labour nor

XXVL] TAA'ISTOCK CHURCH. 115
expense to do all the mischief he could possibly
eff'ect. The windows thus restored had a beautiful
appearance. The ceiling was modern, being some
what A'aulted, but broken in the curve by a mould
ing, and then becoming flat. As it was much
decayed, it Avas taken down, when the original roof
became risible, but so little of it remained, that I
dared not recoramend the restoration, but con
tented myself vrith giring it an uninterrupted curve.
The Avood work, as well as I recollect, Avas of a
trefoil form, elegantly but not very richly carved *."
The foUoAring account of the parish church I copy
from Mr. Bray's manuscript notes, and from my bro-
thers " Historical Notices of Tavistock Abbey " in
the Gentleman's Magazine.
"The parish church," says the latter, "is dedi
cated to St. Eustace, and Avas erected Avithin the
cemetery of the abbey church. Leland thought it
had not been buUt long before the dissolution, and
that the parishioners had preriously a place of wor
ship Avithin the abbey church ; this indeed was not
unUkely, as other examples might readily be ad
duced to shoAV. The parish church of Taristock
was, howcA'er, certainly in existence in the reign
of Richard II., and hoAv much earlier I have not
discovered: it appears to have been under repair
* It is of some importance, in investigating fhe ruins of abbeys, to
know where to look for the sites of particular offices. Whitaker's
account is factitious. Our authors (Hist, of Shrewsbury) plaee them
as follows : —
Dormitory. — Mostly, but not always, on the west side of the cloister.
Refectory,— Genetd.\\y on the side of the cloister opposite to the
church, and parallel with it.
Chapter House. — Always on the eastern side, of the cloister,
Abbola Lodging. — South-east of the church, though not invariably
so. — Gentleman's Magazine, Nov. 1826.

116 TAVISTOCK CHURCH. [lET.
in 1386. The exterior view exhibits a dark, lofty
tower, under which is an archAvay forming a passage
from the abbey precinct into the town ; four distinct
roofs, extending from the toAver at the west to the
termination of the building, indicate a spacious in
terior. Among the documents to Avhich I had access
in 1827, I found and deciphered the following very
early churchwarden's account of the ninth year of
Richard II. I shall give an extract from it on ac
count of the curious items it contains : among these
will be found a charge for collecting rushes for
stroAving the church against the feast of John the
Baptist, and the anniversary of the dedication ; for
the expenses of a man and horse sent to buy Avax at
Plymouth for lights in the church; charges for
materials for repafring windoAVS, &c. ; for making
three painted figures in the AvindoAV of the vestry ;
for fuel ; for shutters to the great east windoAV ; for
the bringing a mason to repair the said Avindow ; for
drinkings to the workmen employed on the above ;
rents frora the park of TreAvclake for maintaining
Ughts at the altars of St. Nicholas, St. Stephen, St.
John the Baptist, St. Katharine ; payments made to
the sacrist of the parish church for offerings to the
respective altars therein ; to the notary, for draAving
the account, &c.*"
*Tavystoke. S. Compu's custod'. hujus eccli'c beati Eustachii Ta
vistock a^ festo luvenc'o'is s'c'e crucis sub anno d'ni millo ccc°»-
octogesimo usq' ad id'm tu'c p'x'mS sequ' ann' d'm' millo ccc'""-
Ixxxvi'"" Empcio cerffi. Idem comput. in cxl. lib. cerre emptis hoc anno Ivis.
x"- custos et Repa'cio Ecclie. Idem computat' in cirpis colligend' con'.
festum s'c'i Johis' baptistse iv""- Iu die dedicac' ois eccl'ie— In bo-
keram emptis in repac'o'e vestementor'— In conduco'e unius viri ce-
ram emere apud Plymouth ct unius equi expcus. Suis ibidem viii""-

xxvi] TAVISTOCK CHURCH. 117
The paintings Avhich formed the subject of the
engraving that appeared in the Gentleman's Maga-
In quar'tio calcis (lime) empt xv" — In earriag. d'ce v — Carreragio
latiid iv''- (carriage of stones) — In vet. vit. (old glass) empt. iii*. vi —
I repac'oe unius fenestrse vitre. in fine ecc'lie iis. iiii" — In vi. pedibus
novi vitri empt. viis. — In focalibus (fuel) empt. ii* — In Iviij. lib. plumbi
empt. \vs, X. ob — In vii. lib. stanni empt. xviii" — In conduco'e unius
machionis (mason) ad d'c'am fenestram reparand— In factura trium
ymaginum in fenesti in vestiario xii"- — I' repa'coe trium claterium
(shutters) ad magnara fenestram in fine eccl'ie vi" — In cibo et potu
vi" — In libera ad opus fenest' iii"- ad campanas xii"; (for bell-ringing)
— In rasina (resin) empt. iu fatura 1 1 (torches)— In 1 parva corda pro
velo — In v. verg (yards) panni linei ad unum rochetum — In factura
ejusd. rocheti vi"- — In factura unius cartse vi*- — In libitina (a bier)
empt. viii — In repa'coe vestlmentorum p. a', vi" — In vestimentis la-
vandis p. a' vi*- Item, ad cap. redditis parci de trewelake xvi"- Et
diversis altaribus eccl'ie p'd'ce de redds, p'ci. pd'ci. viz, ad lumen sci
nichi iii"- ad lumen sc'i Ste'phi iii"- ad lumen sci Joh, baptiste iii"- ad
lumen see Katerine iii" — In clerico scribent. compot. xii" — In emen-
dacoe fenest ii"- — In pergamino (parchinent) empto ii"-
[The sum total of these expenses, of which I have only given ex
tracts, is ZI. 7s, 3d,; then follows :]
Liberacio denar" — Idem computat' in liba'colo sacristee" monasterii
de Tavystocke pro oblacione perveniente ad altaria ecclesie parochialis
predicts iii*. iv"- per ann — Pro altari see Marie apud la south dor vi*.
viij"- a festo invencionis see crucis usque ad idem festum tunc proxime
sequent'. Pro altari Sci Eustace xii"- per a. pro altari scse Katerinae
xii"- pro altari sci blasii iv"- p'altari sci Johis Baptist vi"- pro altari see
Trinitatis vi"- d. altari sci Georgii iv"- pro altari sci Salvatoris in ca-
pella Joh. dabernoun iv"-
[The account is subscribed " per me cleric " by the notary, who, I
suspect, was a wag, as, instead of his signature, he affixes his notarial
mark ; a head with an extraordinary long nose (perhaps this was in
tended for his own portrait), having a quill stuck on the forehead by
way of plume. Subjoined to the account is this postscript.]
Sepum (tallow) pro mortario (a light burning at the shrines or tombs
of the dead) — de xxxiv. lib. sepi de empeione hoc anu. Thesaurus
ecc'lie. Idem R. de cupacum cnverculo (cup and cover) argento et
duobus angelis de auratis tenent. vit. clan, corpus, d' m'cum (two gilt
angels holding the body of our Lord enclosed in glass) ; et de iv ca-
lices cum patenis argent. Et duobus cruetis (silver cruets) et de 1
pixide argenteo pro corpore xs. summa pat. Et reman I cupa cum cu-
verculo, iv. calicos cum patenis 2 cruet' cum pixide argenteo.

118 CHURCH OF ST. EUSTACE. [lET.
zine (February, 1830) Avere the next reUcs in point
of antiquity appertaining to the church of St. Eu
stace. The panels are two feet eleven inches in
height, the longer piece four feet in length, the
shorter about two feet ; the figures are canopied by
the most tasteful and elegant carved Gothic foliage ;
the mouldings Avhich dirided them no longer remain.
but their situation is readily observed by the A-acant
spaces betAveen the figures, and those Avho have a
knowledge of the Gothic style of architecture and
ornament Avill easily supply them. The first figure
to the left hand is the martyred Stephen, his hands
uplifted, and his head surrounded by a nimbus of
glory, the distinguishing emblem of saints ; the next
figure is St. LaAvrence holding the instrument of his
martyrdom, the gridiron. These are all that remain
of a series of saints which were probably at least
nine in number, to correspond Arith the nine grades
of the angelic hierarchy, Avhich are distinguished
with wings ; of the latter remain the personifications
ofthe Archangeli, Cherubira, Potestates, and a fourth
Arith the crown and sceptre, the inscription of which
was probably Principatus.* The style of the armour
"•* The five other grades were — Throni, Angeli, Seraphim, Domini-
tus, and Virttif es. All nine are represented in a window in St. Neot's
Church, Cornwall (see Hedgeland's prints), and doubtless it was these
nine orders which were painted on the Romsey altar-piece. To this
order of mar.shalling the heavenly host, derived by early Christian
writers from the Bible and the traditions of the Jews, Milton has fre
quently aUuded. He makes both the Saviour of mankind and Satan
address them in the fifth book of Paradise Lost, —
"Thrones, Dominations, Priueedoms, Virtues, Powers."
And in the tenth is the following passage :

" •^—^—-^^ him Thrones and Powers,
Princedoms and Dominations ministrant.
Accompanied to Heaven gate."

XXVI.] CHURCH OF ST. EUSTACE. 119
worn by one of the figures fixes the age of the paint
ing at about the time of Henry VI. I believe that
the Avhole of these figures must have adorned com
partments of the rood-loft in the parish church,
which Avas doubtless erected over the opening from
the church into the chancel, supporting the figure of
our blessed Sariour on the cross, and of his mother
and John, the disciple Avhora he loved, standing by.
The mysterious meaning of this arrangement was
as follows : The body of the church typified the
church militant on earth, the chancel the church
triumphant in heaven ; and all Avho would attain to
a place in the latter must pass under the rood ; that
is, take up the cross, and then follow their great
Captain through trials and afflictions. A veil or
curtain was draAvm over the rood and the figures at
tached to it, when the services of the church in
Avhich they were exhibited Avere completed. This
explains the charge in the preceding account, " of a
little cord for the vail."*
The next parochial document appertaining to the
church of St. Eustace, which 1 shall here notice, is
headed as follows. " The account of Thomas Holes
and John CoUyn, wardens of the churche of Tavis
tock ffrom the thfrde of Maye in the yere of om-
Lorde Godd one thousande ffyve hundred flower
schore and eight, untU the third day of Maye in the
yere of our Lorde Godd one thousande ffyve hun
dred ffower score and nyne, that is to weete for one
whole yere  " — from which I extract the fol-
loAring items :
* Sold a rod of iron which the curtain run upon before the rood
A. D. 1549—3 Edward VI. See Fuller's History of Waltham Abbey.

120 CHURCH OF ST. EUSTACE. [lET.
" Receipts for the buryaUe and belle."*
"Imprimis, the same accomptants doe charge
themselves with the receipt of iv*. ffor the greate
bell, upon the deathe of Margarett the daughter of
Roger Dollyn."
" Item — Receaved upon the deathe of Agnes
Drake, for all the bells and her grave, viis. iv*.
" Receaved of the p'shers (parishioners) of Tavj's-
tock toAvardes a rate made for the setting fforth of
souldyers for the guardynge of the Queen's ma'tie's
p'son, and toAvardes the mayntenaunce of the churche
this yere, as appeareth by a book of p'ticulars thereof,
xxxii. XS. iv*."
A large portion of this charge Avas doubtless for
the musters of 1588, the year ofthe Armada.
"Item. Gave Mr. Bickell, Mr. Battishill, Mr.
Knightes, and other preachers Avho preached at s'vall
tiraes in this p'ishe churche this yere (1588) ivs. A'iii*.
¦ — Item, paide for Avyne and bread this yere for the
comunyon table, lixs iii*. — Item, paide John Drake
the schole master, for teachinge in the graraer scholc
this yere, xii li. — Itera, paide to Nicholas Watts for
wages for teachinge of the little children this yere,
iiij li.^ — Item, paide at the muster in August last past,
xls. — Item, paide by M'' Ffytz his comaundement
the xvi of June, 1588, unto a collector having the
Queene's greate scale to collect vrith, vi* — Item,
paide for a rope for one of the beUs, xviij*. — Item,
paide in August for the expenses of the soldiers at
Plympton, viis. — Item, paide to John Burges, for his
paynes in going Avith the Thrum (the toAvn drum)
* This shows that the expressions used by Shakspeare in his Ham
let, " the bringing home of bell and burial," were in the current form .
of his day, — Vide Hamlet, Act V,, Scene 1st,

XXVI.] CHURCH REGISTERS. 12l
vi*. — Item, paid the 6th of August and the 8th of
August last past, to M'' Ffytz of the money es col
lected at the last rate xrii li — Item, paide the 18
August last, to Richard Drake, tovvardes the charge
of the tynners, vi li. — Item, paide James the cutler
for makynge cleane strappyne and other trymmynge
for the corselett and other armour of the parishe, and
for a new dagger, vis. — Item, paide for a new girdell,
xA'i*. — Item, paide for a booke of articles at the firste
visitac'on and for ffees then xxii* — Item, for writing
the presentments * at the risitac'on and lyninge in
thereof xii* — Itera, paide for the expenses of the
wardens, sydemen, clarkes, and others of the p'ishe at
dynuer that day, vis. vi* — Item, paide Thomas Watts
for amendinge of the Bible and the Booke of Co'mon
Prayer, beinge tornen in dyvers places, iis. ii* — Item,
paide for the expenses of the constable, M'' Mohan,
and of John CoUyn, one of the Avardens, and of Ste
phen Hamblyn and of the Constable's raan at Plyrap-
ton, beinge then at the assessinge of the subsidis,
the xth of Sept'' 1588, iiis. i* — Item, paide to one
that collected Avith the broade seale, the 20th Octo
ber last vi*.
" Item, paide to three Iryshemen, which hadd a
lycence from the Earell (Earl) of Bath, ri*. To a
poore man that collected for the hospital of Saynt
Leonard's vi*.
" Paide the paver for amendinge the pavement by
the conduytts and the street by the higher Churche
boAve xxvii*.
" William Gaye for killing of eight ffoxes this
yere viii.s.f *' Of Recusants refusing to attend the common prayer.
f The reward for the destruction of a fox was increased about a cen-
VOL. II. G

122 CHURCH REGISTERS. [lET.
" Item, paide for a chayne and settinge in thereof,
for the fastenynge of the dictionarrie in the Schole
howse ix*.*
" Item, paide Walter Burges for one planke and
nayles, amendinge of the Widdow NichoUs and Wal
ter Poynter's Avyfe's seate and other seates rii*.
Item, paide him for coveringe of six graves in the
.churche this yere xriU*. Item, paide hun for wash-
inge of the churche clothes, riu*.
" Item, for Avi-ytinge this accompt and the accompt
of the Alms-house landes, Ai.s. viii*.
" Bestowed on Mr. Moore the preacher for his ex-
pence, xxU*."
From a churchAvarden's book, beginning 1661, 1
extract the following curious entries :
" Briefs in our parish as follow —
"29th AprU, 1660. CoUected for a company
going to New England, taken by the Ostenders,
6s. 6*."
" September 16th, 1666. Collected towardes the
reliefe of the present poore distressed people of the
towne and University of Cambridge."
"October llth, 1666. CoUected toAvardes the
tury after this time, more than threefold, as appears from the follow
ing entry : "May I Sth, 1673. This day it was agreed by the masters
and inhabitants ofthe towne and parish of Tavystoke, that whosoever
shall kill any ffox within the said parish, shall receive for his or their
paynes in so doing, the sum of three shillings and four pence."
Churchwarden's Book, 1660 to 1740.
* This is an amusing charge, and shows the scarcity of lexico
graphic tomes in that day. The readerJwiU remember to have seen,
,in many parish churches, the black letter Acts and Monuments ofthe
Martyrs, similarly attached, pro bono publico," " to a chayne." Eras
mus's 'Paraphrase on the Gospels' remains at the present time thus
secured in Tavistock Church, the original cost of which, according to
au item in another account, was fifteen shilUngs.

XXVI.J CHURCH REGISTERS. 123
•reliefe ofthe poore inhabitants of London, who have
lately suffered by the lamentable fire 111. 5s. 9^\"
" Feb^y. 21st, 1668. CoUected the day above^ writ
ten of the toAvne and parishe of Tavystocke towardes
the reUefe and redemption of severall persons now
slaves to the Turkes in Algiers and Sallay and
Other places 1?. 2s. li*."
" 1670, 21st, 22d, 23d, 24th November. Collected
towardes the redemption of the present captives
in Turkey, in the towne and parishe of Tavy
stoke." The list consists of upwards of seven hundred
contributors. Araount of contribution 16L Os. 9^*.*
" 12th July, 1674. CoUected then the surame of
11. 3s. 4i*. for the fire of St. Martins in the fields,
in the County of Middlesex."
"9th May, 1675. CoUected then for John Fors-
lett of Thilbroke, in the County of CornwaU, a poor
captive in Ffez under the Turkes, 11, 10s, 1|*."
" 24th AprU, 1675. For the fire at Redburne, in
the County of Hereford, 6s. 6*."
"March 19th, 1675. To a petition for John
LaAves, a captive in Tituan, 9s. 3*."
" 13th September, 1677. For the fire at St. Sa
viours and St. Thoraas, in the County of Surrey,
, 27s. 9*."
" 27th October. For James Cole of Totness, a
captive in Argier, 17s. 7^*."
* At the head of this list is the Honourable Lady Marie Howard,
ten shillings. She was the Lady Howard to this day so much the
theme of tradition, and of whom so many wild stories are told. Some
notice of her life will hereafter be given in these letters. George
Howard, Esq. gave six shillings, and eight servants, nine shillings.
g2

124 CHURCH REGISTERS. [lET.
" 1680, August. Another general collection for
redemption of the present captives in Turkey^
amounting to 6?. 18s. 5*."
"1681, November. Another, towardes the pre
sent subsistence and reUefe of the distressed Pro
testants of Ffrance 61, 12s. SJ*."
"27th September, 1683. Paide and layd out to
one M". Mary Danevaux foAvre shiUings for her
charges in going to her fi-iendes having a greate
losse among nine famraUyes in the towne of Mumby,
in the County of Lincoln, having seen her petition
under the hands and seales of the Justices of Peace of
that County, Somerset, and Devon, to testifie it. The
summe is 1400/., she lost by a breache of the tyde-
storrae that riolently destroyed heare howeses and
goodes, and her husbande was lost in savinge those
goodes." The " Captives in Turkey," who appear to have
been very numerous, Avere prisoners to the rovers
of Barbary, Avhose piratical depredations on the
seas, in the reign of Charles II., were repressed with
considerable difficulty by the outfit of several naval
armaments against them.
The register of marriages, births, baptisms and
deaths is not extant at Taristock earlier than the
year 1614; but the Rev. Mr. Carpenter, of South
Sydenham Damerell, in that neighbourhood, showed
me the register of his church, beginning a.d. 1539.
I apprehend this is as early a register as any extant;
for in the year 1538, says Stow, "in the moneth of
September, Thoraas Crorawell, Lord Privy Seale,
Vicegerent to the King's Highness, sent forth inti
mations to all bishops and curates through the

XXVI.j TAVISTOCK CHURCH. 125
realme, charging them to see that in everie Parish
Churche, the Bible of the largest Aolume printed
in English Avere placed for all men to reade on
(secured, no doubt, like the dictionary of the Gram^
mar School at Taristock, and the Martyrology, in
many churches, by ' a chayne'), and that a book of
Register were also prorided and kept in every Parish
Church, wherein shall be Avritten every Avedding,
chi-istning, and burying Avithin the same Parish for
ever." The various heads of the Sydenham Register are
preceded by certain texts of Scripture, as the bap
tismal entries by " whosoever Avas not found written
in the book of life, Avas cast into the lake of
fire, &c. &c."
Haring given the above very copious extracts
from my brother's notices of our church, and the
curious churchwarden's accounts (which he took the
pains most minutely to exaraine), I shall subjoin a
few observations from Mr. Bray's MS. notes in con
tinuation ; and then conclude this letter, which may
be considered as one addressed to you more in your
character of an antiquary than a poet ; but the sub
jects, however recondite, belong so much to the
history of this place, they ought not to be oraitted.
Of the Church itself, Mr. Bray says, "it con
sists of a nave Arith an aisle on each side, and a
shorter one, probably additional, to the south, ex
tending only to the chancel. This latter aisle, it has
been supposed, Avas not carried on to the end of the
chancel on account of Judge Glanrille's monument,
which is on that side of it. But by the carved wood
Avork of the ceUing, it appears to be of a more
ancient date than the rest of the church. The pil-

126 TAVISTOCK CHURCH. [lET.
lars, also, have capitals enriched with leaves, AvhUst
the others are plain. But the tracery of the Arindows
is less ornamented than those to the north. How
ever, the windows, in their general form, are the
same ; consisting of pointed but depressed arches.
The tower, which is at the west end (though, strictly
speaking, the whole of the buUding varies consi
derably from the cardinal points), is supported on
four arches. Through two of these was the passage
from the abbey precincts into the toAvn, at a spot
still called Church Bow, though the arch that gave
name to it has recently being taken down.
" By reraoving a row of old houses a few years
since, the north side of the church has been opened
to the street, and adds not a Uttle to its embellish
ment. " The churchyard, fi-om the deep funereal shade of
a number of large yew trees, was forraerly reraarkably
gloomy. In addition to AA'hich it Avas so solitary,
that few, after night-fall, could be induced to enter
it. But the fears of superstition have long since
fled, and a callous indifference to the sacredness of
the spot seemed to have succeeded. It is now not
only one of the most pubUc thoroughfares in the
place by night as AveU as by day ; but even chUtfren,
by running over the graves, at play, prevent the
¦Very turf from coA'ering the mould. This wanton
riolation of common decency, it is hoped, requires
only to be noticed to be suppressed *
" But the feelings of those Avho venerate the dead
* It is suppressed, for not very long after the above note was
¦written, the churchyard was surrounded by an iron railing and planted
-with lime-trees on three of its sides. It is now wholly undisturbed,
.and kept with all care from intrusion.

XXVI.] EFFECTS OF SUPERSTITION. 127
must have been more greatly shocked when, some
years since, the turnpike road was cut through the
churchyard, when the coffins and bones of deceased
relatives and fi-iends were seen not only exposed to
the eye of day, but almost trampled on by the feet
of men, and even of horses.
" In the tower of the church, which is plain and
simple, but lofty, are eight bells. They Avere given
by the Duke of Bedford, who left it to the inhabit
ants of the place, whether they would have an organ
or beUs, and they chose the latter. * Formerly there
were only five, Avhich seeras to have been the general
nuraber in country towns. When the poor were
buried, no bell Avas tolled, even in an age when the
tolUng of a bell Avas thought to assist the departure
of the soul to heaven, tUl some good old lady, whose
name has unfortunately perished, gave one for the
express pm-pose; and it Avas ever after caUed the
poor-bell. Since they have been increased to eight,
that, among the rest, Avas removed and probably
melted; but the third beU stiU retains the name,
and is appUed to the same purpose.
" The singular custom existed here, tUl lately, of
the sexton's carrying his spade, not shouldered, but,
to use the miUtary phrase, reversed, before the cler
gyman at every funeral. But this ceremony of the
church miUtant here on earth is now dispensed
with. " About forty years ago, a melancholy instance of
the effects of superstitious creduUty happened here.
Two brothers of the name of Luggar sat up one
* The Duke of Bedford has since given a very handsome and fine-
toued organ to the church.

128 ANCIENT MONUMENTS. [lET.
Midsummer-eve, in the church porch, from an idea
(founded on ancient custom) that if at twelve o'clock
at night they looked through the key-hole of the
door, they would see all those who were to die that
year walk into the church from the opposite door-
Avay. Their imagination Avas so worked up that
they fancied they saw themselves in this funereal pro
cession. Certain it is that they both died within a
very short space of tirae afterwards ; Avere both buried
in the same grave ; and the inhabitants, by having
the bells muffled at their funeral, testified a more
than ordinary commiseration of their awful fate.*
" In the chancel is a monument to the memory of
one of the Fitz family ; Avhich, according to Prince,
'is known by tradition more than inscription, no
epitaph being found thereon.' But though there is
no inscription on the monument itself, on a flat stone
in the pavement beneath may be distinguished
the foUoAring words among others that are oblite
rated: — 'Here lyeth John Fytz of Fytz-ford, Es-
quier,' Arith the date of 1539, or 1559 : the third
figure of the date being much worn, it cannot clearly
be distinguished.
"Prince describes the arms of Fitz as 'argent a
cross gules guttee de sang.' The arms on the canopy
of the present monument do not exactly answer this
description ; but they have so near a resemblance
that it is probable Prince may have been mistaken.
They are a cross engrailled with five gouttes de sang
on each quarter. These are on the right of the
canopy ; on the left are three rams ; and, in front,
=* This melancholy circumstance of the death of the Luggars sug
gested the ballad of 'Midsummer Eve,' written by Mr. Bray, and in
serted in my novel of ' Fitz of Fitz-ford.'

XXVI.] ANCIENT MONUMENTS, 129
the above coats of arms are quartered Arith others : the
crest is a centaur. Beneath the canopy, Avhich is
supported by four columns, Ues the figure of a knight
in armour, Arith a lady by his side; the forraer
resting his feet on a lion, the latter on a lamb.
At the back of the monument, against the wall, a
youth, probably their son, is represented kneeUng,
with a book before him on a desk. Some have
supposed this j'outhful figure to be the effigy of Sir
John Fitz, of whom so remarkable a story is told by
Prince, and Avho fell on his own sword'*. _ It raay be
such, though Ave have no authority, either Avritten or
traditional, to Avarrant the assertion.
" On the opposite side of the chancel is the mo
nument of Judge GlanviUe. Prince tells us it is
' a very fair monument, so lively representing his.
person, in his scarlet robes, that some, at thefr first
entrance into one of the doors there, (against which
it stands,) have been surprised at the sight, sup
posing it had been living.' It is certainly very cha—
racteristic ; and I have no doubt, (frora its resem
blance to a picture of the Judge, once in my father's
possession,) was a striking likeness. Altogether it
is one of the finest monuments I have ever seen of
the Elizabethan age. His lady, Alicia, is kneeling
before him, surrounded by their seven children, all
of the sarae dirainutive size, as if they were brought
forth at a birth.
" Near it (of which, though now effaced, I once,
when sorae whitewash peeled off, saw sorae vestiges,)
was painted against the waU, as an honorary mo
nument. Queen Elizabeth, lying under a canopy,
* The story, as related by Prince, will be given in a future letter,
g3

130 ANCIENT MONUMENTS. [lET.
Arith the foUoAring inscription, which is preserved by
Prince —
If ever royal vertues crown' d a crown.
If ever mildness shined in majesty,
If ever honour honoured renown.
If ever courage dwelt with courtesy,
If ever princess put all princes down
For temperance, prowess, prudence, equity,
This ! this was she, that in despight of death
Lives etill ador'd, admired Elizabeth :
Spain's rod, Rome's ruin, Netherland's relief.
Heaven's gem, earth's joy, world's wonder, nature's chief.
" In the chancel also is a slab on the pavement,
dated 1740, to the memory of one of the Manatons,
who, subsequently to the GlanviUes, were the pos
sessors of Kilworthy.
"In the north aisle are the arms of an ancient
family, with the foUoAring inscription —
Gladius Spiritus est verus clypeus.
Sub hoc lateat omnis tuta domus.
" Near it is a monument of one of the Fortescues,
of Buckland Filleigh, Avhich is principally curious
fi-om the blunders of the sculptor, Avho seems to have
corrected the text by turning one letter into another
and filUng up the superfluous parts by a kind of
composition which is now falling off, and renders
some of the AVords difficult to be deciphered. On
the sarae side is the upper part of an arched tomb,
too mutilated to require further notice. In other
parts of the church are two or three modern tablets,
and an expensive monument lately erected by the
late Mr. Carpenter, of Mount Tavy, to the memory
of his father, and others of his famUy*.
* Another monument to the late Mrs. Carpenter has likewise heen
erected by her eldest son, John Carpenter, Esq., the present proprietor
of Mount Tavy.

XXVI.] SAXON SCHOOL. 131
"The font, of an octagonal form, each side
bearing a shield, is supported on a low pillar, with,
a base. The upper part is enclosed Avith a kind of
Avooden pyramid, surmounted by a pelican, bearing
the date 1660. Around it is 'God save King
Charles II. !' Arith the names of Alexander Gove,
and John Noseworthy, churchAvardens.
" On either side ofthe commandments, at the altar,
is a border in the form of a pilaster, containing fruit
and flowers beautifully carA'ed. The figures of Moses
and Aaron, as large as Ufe, are painted in the com
partments beyond, Arithin the railing ; they were ex
ecuted about the tirae of George I., by a native of this
place, named Beaumont, and, considering the state
of the arts at that period, and that the artist Avas
uneducated as a painter, they are a very respectable
perforraance. The altar table is of oak, richly and
beautifully carA'ed in the Gothic style. The pulpit is
of much later date, but handsome in its decoration.
In the church is seen an iron-bound oak chest, most
probably as old as the building itself ; in this were
found the ancient parish docuraents before noticed,
Avhich are so nuraerous and so curious, that I question
if any parish in the kingdom can produce a more
interesting coUection ofthe like nature."
Having here given you Mr. Bray's account of the
church, I shall conclude this letter Avith my brother's
notice of THE SAXON SCHOOL »,
" No mention of such an establishment is to bo
found among the muniments of the abbey; but
Archbishop Parker refers to the existence of a
Saxon school at Taristock, and at many other monas-
* From " Notices of Tavistock and its Abbey." — Gentleman's
Magazine, 1830.

132 SAXON SCHOOL. [lET.
teries within the realm, as a matter in the memory
of persons of his time. He says that many of the
charters and muniments of the early times being
Tvi-itten in the Saxon tongue, these foundations Avere
prorided in order to communicate the knowledge of
it from age to age, lest it should at length become
totally obsolete. It is probable that the Saxon
school shared the fate of its fostering parent, the
monastery, at the time of the Reformation, or that it
merged in the grammar school still existing at
Taristock, to Avhich no date of foundation can be
assigned. Indeed it is not likely that so erainent a
monastery as Tavistock had neglected to establish a
school for the instruction of the children of the poor
in Latin and church music ; the mode in that day of
proriding that there should always be a number of
persons qualified for the priesthood. The graramar
school at Tavistock is at the present tirae very slen
derly attended, there seldom being more than one
or two scholars on its list. The schoolmaster in
structs thera in Latin and Greek, and the steward
of the Duke of Bedford sends as many scholars (in
the name of the Duke) as he chooses ; each boy
paying tAvo guineas entrance money, and one guinea
annually to the master. Some particulars of the
master's stipend in the time of Elizabeth AA'iU be
found in a subsequent document.
"THE PRINTING PRESS.
" The noble art of printing (continues my brother)
was communicated to our land about the year 1471,
and being first practised in Westminster Abbey,
the example Avas soon foUoAvcd by St. Augustine's,
Canterbury, St. Alban's, and ' other monasteries of
England,' says Stow. Among Avhich number was

XXVI.] THE PRINTING PRESS. 133
the Abbey of Tavistock. Certain it is, that a
translation of 'Boetius de Consolatione PhUoso-
phiae,' undertaken at the instance of one Elizabeth
Berkeley, and completed by John Walton, Canon of
Osney, in 1410, was printed at Tavistock, in 1524 *,
under the editorship of Dan Thomas Rychard, one of
the monks, Avho, by his prefix of Dan or Dominus to
his name, Avas perhaps a graduate of the university,
or a scholar of some note. It might, hoAvever, be a
distinction added on account of the office which he
bore in the monastery ; for 1 take hira to be the sarae
person AA'ho signs his narae to the surrender, ' Ry-
cardus custos.' The conclusion of this book (so rare
that Hearne had only seen tAVO imperfect copies of
it) has the following note : —
" ' Here endeth the boke of comfort called in Latyn
Boecius de Consolatione Phi'e, eraprinted in the
exempt monastery of Tavestock in Denshyre, by
me Dan Thomas Richard Monke of the sayd mo
nastery. To the instant desyer of the ryght Avor-
shypful esquyer Mayster Robert Langdon. Anno
d. M.D. XXV. Deo Gracias j.'
"Robert Langdon, LL.D., was nepheAv to Bishop
Langdon, a great patron of Uterature, and I suppose
had imbibed something of his uncle's spirit."
I have the honour to remain.
My dear Sir,
Very respectfully and faithfully yours,
Anna E. Bray.
* The charter of the Tinners of Devon, small quarto, was also"
printed at Tavistock Abbey, 1534; and the Long Grammar, con
taining only sixteen pages, edited by Richards.
f " A copy of this book was purchased by Dr. Askew, at Mr. West's
sale, for three pounds. At Dr. Askew's sale, it was bought by Mr.
Mason, for five pounds : it would, if sold now, produce four times as
much," — Beloe's ' Anecdotes of Literature.'

134 [let.

LETTER XXVII.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.
Contents. — A garden — The love of it common with amiable persons
— Nature contemplated generally, a subject of constant benefit and
delight — Its variety and interest — By whom sought — Examples
cited in ancient and raodern times — A passage from St. Chi-ysos-
tom — Cottage gardens ; their beauty in Devon — The general cha
racter of a Devonshire cottage — Spenser's lines on the Butterfly —
Great men who have been noted for their love of nature, and rural
pleasures and occupations — ^The Vicarage garden described — The
still house — Abbey walls; its boundary — The orchard — St. John's —
Romanized.British sepulchral stones — Two of them in the Vicar
age garden^ — Blackbird's nest — Birds — A remarkable cat; a feat of
hers related — The storm — Thrush — Swallows — Inscriptions — Betsey
Grimhal's Tower — Cleopatra's Needle — Little Bridge — Second di
vision of the garden — The Long Walk — A wood dove that built its
nest in the old tower — Lines upon it — A Laurestina planted by the
mother of the writer ; a sacred memorial — Crowndale ; birth-place
of Drake ; way to it — The old parish clerk ; his favourite walk —
Remarkable character of this worthy person — A sketch of him at
tempted — His good sense — His early life and exemplary conduct —
His observations on various subjects, moral and religious — The
valley of Crowndale, and the walk to it described — The house in
whieh Drake was born taken down — Proposed inscription to Drake
— Crowndale ; origin of its name — ^Witchcraft — Ancient game of
Kales — Tradition respecting Sir Francis Drake and the fire-ships
— Another legend concerning him — Shooting the gulf — Tradition
of his wife about being married during his absence — Tale of Sir
Francis and the ship-boy — Another legend — Extract from a letter
of Mr. Southey sent to the writer in reply to the above.
Vicarage, Tavistock, September 7, 1832.
My dear Sir,
I have often observed in life that the most
happy and contented minds, the most amiable and

XXVII.] creation contemplated. 135
gentle dispositions, have been found in persons who;
take pecuUar deUght in a garden, or in contem
plating, on a larger scale, the boundless beauties and.
Avon der s of creation. It is a theme, though often
touched upon, never to be exhausted, because the
subject has God for its origin and its end. Nay,
God himself deUghts in his own Avorks, for he saw
that " they were good." The prophets of old con*"
tinually allude to them ; and amongst the heariest
curses of the lamentable faU of Moab was, " that the
waters should be bitter, the grass faU, and that there
should be no green thing." And Job enumerates
the wonders of God's works from the highest to the
least; from that power which "hangeth the earth
upon nothing," and " openeth out the north on the
empty place," which " maketh a way for the Ught
ning of the thunder," to the mercy which sends the
" small drops of rain, that cause the bud of the ten
der herb to shoot." And holy Darid, in the 148th
Psalm, enumerates aU "planets, the greater and
lesser light ; the fire, the haU, the snow and vapour,
hills and mountains and fruitful trees, and all ce
dars," as giring praise to God.
To look, therefore, on the creation Arith an eye of
interest and feeUng must be ever acceptable to the
Creator. To trace out the several properties of his
AVorks, and to study Avith humUity and dUigence thefr
laAvs, their uses and operations, is an employment
worthy the iramortal mind of man ; since it is one of
those studies which we may reasonably hope AriU
surrive and become enlarged beyond the grave,
when we shall have shaken off this " mortal coil :"
when we shall no longer see through a " glass
darkly," what wonders of creation, spiritual as well

136 RELIGIOUS REFLECTIONS. [lET.
as material, may unfold themselves to our vieAV ! But
if we pass through this world, as the slumberer does
through the night, unconscious of Avhat lies around
us, how can we be assured that those exceUent
things Arill delight us in futurity, of which we had
no perception in our preparatory state ? These, it
must be admitted, are speculative notions, but they
may be true ; and they are certainly harmless— we
may hope, therefore, they may be indulged.
The wisdom of Providence is seldom, in any one
thing, confined in its operations to the mere term of
our mortal career ; and in placing us in a world so
diversified, so beautiful in its forms as well as useful
in their properties, there is soraething Avhich seems
to tell us that Nature does not court our admiration,
or invite our inquiry into her most hidden secrets
in vain ; and all would be vain if it ended with the
grave. There is, indeed, in most things a constant
connexion or figure between mortal and immortal.
What, for instance, to advert to the most obrious, is
that regular succession of day and night, but a lively
image of death and the renewal of our being ? What
the sun, Avhich of all celestial bodies is to us the
most glorious, but an emblem of Him who is the
fountain of all light ? And when that great lumi
nary " leaves the world to darkness," what but the
assured power of God (whose laws never A'ary nor
know the shadoAV of change) can certify it AriU ever
rise on us again? As glorious as is our hope in
Christ, so certain will be its fulfilment. StiU fur
ther, to draAv the parallel, it may be added that it
is by the light of the sun Ave discover all the
endless variety of substances, and of their colours
that robe the earth as with a mantle of beauty, which

XXVII.] RELIGIOUS REFLECTIONS. 137
God changes as the seasons vary in their order and
their kind. The Ught he has given us by reve
lation is, in the moral, Uke this luminary in the
physical world — it shows us all the beauty of the
divine law, and where the everlasting fountains may
be sought which refresh the soul, even should it
"be weary unto death."
The contemplation of nature continually suggests
thoughts like these ; and never, I should hope, can
do other than lead the mind to a conviction of the
power and the excellence of the Almighty, without
which, knowledge is useless, and inquiry vain : sincei
it produces no fruit but that Avhich, as the gourd of
Jonah, Arithers in a day. How instructive, for ex
ample, is it in aU seasons to consider the progress
of the vegetable and the animal Avorld ! Winter,
that season of inactirity and barrenness to the eye,
Ave find teeming Arith the hidden operations of na
ture; for then the snows, which cover the face of
the earth with thefr chiUing aspect, are, in fact, like
that Avhich clothes the flocks, a mantle affording'
a covering to the plants as they nestle beneath it :
and the bare and leafless tree abounds Arith ritaUty.
And how adrafrable is that Arisdom which guards its
works against the dangerous transition of passing
from one extreme in the seasons to the other ! The
fluctuating spring, Avhich not too suddenly makes us
forget the Arinter, yet prepares the earth by rnUder
Avarmth for the sumraer's ardent suns ; and the fall
of the year, when the harvest is complete, that leads
us, like the decline of Ufe, by gentle steps to the
winter, and enables us to raeet its attendant seve
rities of storms and biting frosts, are all instances
ofthe merciful order and government of Providence.

138 COTTAGE GARDENS. [lET.
There is a beautiful passage in St. Chrysostom
which is so in harmony with this subject, that I
cannot forbear lo quote it, in the very words in
which I heard it, as introduced in a discourse fi-om
the pulpit : " As the water, which descends from
Heaven nourishes and ririfies, and though it be of
one kind, operates in various ways ; is snow-white in
the lUy, but sable in the narcissus, blushes in the
rose, is purple in the violet, is sweet in the fig, but
bitter in the wormAvood : so also the Divine Spirit,
which descends from Heaven, nourishes and ririfies
the soul, and though of one kind, exerts its power
and efficacy in various ways."
I have ventured to give these remarks as intro
ductory to a very favourite subject of mine — the
many benefits that result to us from cultivating a
taste not only for nature at large, but for a garden.
A taste for gardening is more marked in the Eng
Ush perhaps, than in any other nation. We see it
not merely in the educated and higher classes, but
¦vrith the poorest of the peasantry. How many a
cottage, whose want even of the most ordinary con
veniences of Ufe bespeaks the needy condition of
its inmate, possesses a character of cheerfulness and
comfort by the woodbine that tArines round the
ruinous porch, the rose-bush that creeps in upon the
lattice, or the stately hoUyhock and the gorgeous
sun-floAver that deck the sUp of ground before his
door — ^flowers which, like noble persons in their
progress through the world, plant them wherever
it may be, near the palace or the cottage, lose no
thing of the dignity inherent in their nature, and
rather give it to their station than derive it thence.
I knoAV not any county in England where this

XXVII.] DEVONSHIRE COTTAGES. 139
taste for a garden with the peasantry is more uni
versal than in the west. A Devonshire cottage, if
not too modern, is the sweetest object that the poet,
the artist, or the lover of the romantic could desfre
to see. The walls, generally of stone, are grey, and
if not whitewashed, (which they too often are,)
abound Arith lichen, stone-crop, or moss. Many of
these dweUings are ancient, principaUy of the Tudor
age, Arith the square-headed mulUoned and labelled
\rindows. The roof is always of thatch, and no
cottage but has its ivy, its jessamine, or its rose
mantling its sides and creeping on its top. A bfrd-
cage at the door is often the delight of the children ;
and the little garden, besides its complement of hol
lyhocks, &c., has a bed or two of flowers before the
house of the most brUUant colours. A bee-hive, and
the elder, that most useful of aU domestic trees, are
seen near the entrance ; and more than once have I
stopped to observe the eagerness and the deUght Avith
which the chUdren amuse themselves in chasing a
butterfly from flower to flower. A butterfly is the
favourite of infancy, and affords a subject for re
flection even to age. The change it undergoes
would puzzle a phUosopher did he attempt to explain
the laws of its ephemeral being ; and wherefore a
supine and ugly grub, that Ues in darkness, should
change into a creature Arith ribrating Arings, ever
restless, ever sporting in Ught and sun, and whose
brief existence seems to reaUze the notions of Epi
curus, in being devoted to pleasure. Who has ever
described a butterfly like our Spenser in those Unes
of matchless beauty?
The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie,
The silken downe with which his baeke is dight.

140 GREAT MEN, ETC. [lET.
His broad outstretched homes, his hayrie thies.
His glorious colours and his glistering eies.
Those Avho deUght in sacred studies can never
forget that a garden was the first possession be
stowed on man whilst he was in a state of innocence.
There, by the forfeiture of his obedience, he became
subject to mortaUty. And in a garden, too, stood
the sepulchre, Avhence came his assurance, by the
resurrection of our Lord, of his immortaUty. Even
the heathen world of antiquity affords us examples
of how many great and wise men delighted in the
culture of a particular spot of earth. The admirable
Numa left Avith reluctance his garden and his retfre
ment at Cures, (Avhere, says Plutarch, he gave his
hours to the Avorship of the gods, to his friends, and
dressing the ground, and feeding cattle,) to become
the king of Rome. Cincinnatus Avas taken from the
plough to be a Dictator. " And the sublime imagi
nation of Plato," says an eloquent modern Avriter ¦*,
" still required him to seek God amidst the pleasant
haunts of a garden." It is recorded of Socrates,
that he delighted in the beauties of the country,
where, in a garden, he enjoyed sitting under the
plane-tree, on the margin of a pure stream, to
breathe the evening air. In ages of a more recent
date, we have numerous examples of the best men
who found in a garden a relaxation from the toils,
and a solace for the cares of life. Rene, the afflicted
and noble Count of Anjou, felt a melancholy jjleasure
in shoAving to his friends the flowers he had reared
with his ovvn hands. Fenelon, in such a spot, Avould
pursue his Avalks of contemplation "in peace and
silence before God." In our oavu country, hoAV many
• Kenelm Digby, author of the " Broad Stone of Honour."

¦XXVIE.] ADMIRERS OF NATURE. 141
good men have evinced the same taste ! How many
great poets and Avriters have, like the bees around
them, culled from the garden the choicest sweets,
and stored them, as the floAvers of song ! The poem
by Mason, on such a subject, can never be forgotten ;
for he Avas one
Of those the favour'd few, whom Heav'ii has lent
The power to seize, select, and reunite
Her loveliest features ; and of these to form
One archetype complete of sovereign grace *.
Cowley addressed a poem to Evelyn on the de
Ught he took in his garden ; and Evelyn was the
first Englishman Avho brought its culture into a
regular art ; and left his Avork on Forest Trees as an
invaluable legacy to posterity. Lord Bacon's fond
ness for horticulture is Avell knovra ; and Shenstone's
garden at the Leasowes Avas as celebrated as himself
Avho formed it. And Avhat a picture of beauty has
Milton given in his description
Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
Now nearer, crowns with her inelosure green,
As with a rural mound, the champaign head
Of a steep wilderness ; whose hairy sides
With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild,
Access denied : and overhead upgrew
Insuperable height of loftiest shade.
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,
A sylvan scene ! and as the ranks ascend
Shade above shade, a woody theatre
Of stateliest view.
To speak of a less lofty theme than that of Mil
ton's Eden ; a garden, such as Ave generally find in
the country, is a world in miniature, and one that
Ave may call our own. Its extent is not too large to
prevent our becoming acquainted with every capa-
* Mason's Garden. Book the First.

142 VICARAGE GARDEN, [lET.
biUty of our domain. We may here form our colo
nies of plants and flowers, and see them rise and
grow and thrive, Uke so many subjects obedient to
our wUl ; we may cherish or neglect them, and as we
do the one or the other they wUl flourish or decUne,
Avhilst they are Uable to no injuries but such as arise
from causes beyond our control — the inclemency of
the seasons, the vrinds, the blight, and the storm.
It is not ahvays necessary, though doubtless it en
hances the pleasure, to be reaUy a good gardener, in
order to enjoy a garden. This I can ti-uly say ; for
though I am not skiUed in the horticultural art, yet
I am not insensible to its value, and deUght in our
OAvn spot of ground. At aU seasons I find it replete
with entertainment and variety; and truly is it a
pretty picturesque appendage to the ricarage house,
which stands in the raidst ; and ray pleasure is en
hanced by knoAring that the garden Avas, in its pre
sent state, entirely planned, laid out, and planted by
Mr. Bray, in a way to show to most advantage such
ruins ofthe abbey as it contains, and to make apiece
of ground of moderate size appear, by an ingenious
exercise of art, a great deal larger than it is.
Another pecuUarity is attached to it — it is not
merely a summer-garden ; since by planting a num
ber of evergreens near the house, we have aU the
year round the satisfaction of looking upon verdure.
These evergreens consist principaUy of laurels, bays,
and hoUies — the common and variegated — Avhich,
from the humidity and mUdness of the climate, and
the luxuriant way in which aU vegetation grows in
this neighbourhood, are now become not merely fine
slirubs, but large and spreading trees. We have,
also, the beautiful Portugal laurel, the cypress, the

XXVII.] VICARAGE GARDEN. 143
juniper, and a most noble cedar of Lebanon ; besides
the Spanish chestnut, the comraon English horse
chestnut, the sycamore, and the finest acacias.
The Spanish chestnut produces fine fruit, Avhich we
store for Christmas. At a particular tirae, Avhen the
tree is in blossom, the smell it emits is most dis
agreeable, something Uke that of rotten Avood. If
such is the case in Spain, where there are Avhole
forests of these chestnuts, they must, I should think,
be very unwholesome to aU Avho Uve near, or travel
thi-ough them.
Of ivy we have, perhaps, a Uttle too much. Ours
is the giant ivy, as it is caUed; it grows so fast
that, Avithout continual cutting and clearing, it in
trudes more than it ought to do upon the architec
tural remains of the abbey, particularly the still-
house, and Betsy Grimbal's tower, the two most
distinguished ruins in our Uttle domain ; yet not so
fine in themselves as the noble portion of the abbey
waUs, with their battlemented parapet that once
formed the boundary of the abbot's, and noAV of the
¦ricar's private gardens.
At no season of the year are these gardens other
than beautiful. In the winter, when, now and then,
they are covered Arith snow, the majestic cedar of
Lebanon (which I can see from the Arindows Avhere
I am writing this letter) assumes the most elegant
appearance : it looks light and feathery, and its
branches wave, if there is the least wind, like a
panache of white plumes on the helmet of a chival
rous knight equipped for the tourney. And the
old towers with thefr heads buried in snow, whUst
the lower parts, sheltered by the incurabent ivy, stiU
show their dusky sides, remind one of the old monks

144 ST. John's. [let.
Avith a white cowl upon their heads. But I ought to
take you more regularly through our garden ; a A'ery
fit place for a poet, and especially for one Avho has
sung of other lands as Avell as of our oavu ; for here
the laurels of Portugal and of England will Uterally
Avave above his broAV.
The Athenians had a notion that the Muses would
be gratified by haring a temple dedicated to them on
the banks of the river Ilissus ; and so, according to
the idea of Digby, the founders of the abbeys seemed
to think that the saints to Avhom they dedicated
them would be delighted by having all such edifices
stationed on the banks of a river. Buckland, as AveU
as Tavistock Abbey, stood amidst emboAvering Avoods
on the raargin of the beautiful Tavy ; and though,
in our immediate neighbourhood, the antique oakS,
that in all probability saw the rise and progress of
these monastic buildings, have long been swept
aAvay; yet Ave are not Arithout wooded hills. For
example, that called St. John's, Avhere the hermitage
once stood, is situated opposite to our garden on the
other side the river. It is a romantic spot, Avhcre
stands a rock, that stiU rears his head, like the tower
of an old fortress, and looks down upon the Tavy,
and upon the abbey's mouldering AvaUs, with the
same solemn front Avith Avhich it beheld them Avlien
they Avere stormed by the Danes, or desecrated by the
Reformationists. A Avilderness of briars and brambles
and old trees surround it ; but there is a winding
path that runs past its base and affords a very
pleasing A'icAV of the town, the abbey bridge, &c.,
AA'ith the advantages derived frora a rugged and
picturesque foreground. We look directly upon St.
Jolm's ; and the French windoAVs of my favourite

XXVJI.] BLACKBIRDS. 145
room, Avhere I love to sit and read and Avrite, open
into our garden. A laAvn faces them, bordered Avith
evergreens, of such luxuriant growth, that I call
them my grove, and there is no extravagance in the
expression. To the west, and not more than seven or eight
feet distant from one of the AvindoAvs, stands, on the
sldrts of the lawn, one of those British, Romanized
sepulchral stones, which Mr. Bray discovered and
preserved; a particular account of Avhich has been
given by himself. This stone is of granite, and
stands upright about eight feet above the earth.
Against the back part of it some ivy Avas planted,
Avhich is noAV so thick and spreading, that it has
assumed at the top an appearance someAvhat re
sembling a judge's Avig; this, Avhich somoAvhat over
shadows the inscription, Avould have been cleared
away, but for the circumstance I ara about to relate.
During the spring ofthe present year, I observed
that between the hours of four and five in the after
noon, Arith the most exact regularity, as if ruled by a
clock, seA'eral fine blackbirds assembled together on
our lawn, amusing themselves Avith singing, chirping,
and picking up worms. We took especial care not
to disturb them, and at last they gi-oAV so bold, that
they would sometimes hop and flutter even upon the
gravel walk that runs close to the ArindoAvs. At
length AA'e observed that a pair of them constantly
returned to the judge's wig, Avhere we soon found
they had formed a nest in the ivy; and Avere bring
ing up a little family of vocalists to complete the
nuraerous band of that description Avhich have li
terally conA'erted our garden into an aviary. I need
not add we get no fruit. The blackbird is one of
A'OL. II. h

146 A FAVOURITE CAT. [LET.
the shyest in existence; and I am assured by the
Rev. Mr. Johnes (the White of our neighbour
hood), that a nest built by one of the race Avithin
a few feet of a parlour vrindow, is a remarkable fact
in natural history : here, therefore, I record it. We
are, indeed, exceedingly musical ; for the old walls,
the ivy, the number of trees, and not aUoAring them
to be disturbed, is altogether so agreeable and
inriting to the feathered tribes, that we have them
of all descriptions, and nearly all the year round.
Our thrushes are numerous ; and they Arill sit and
sing upon the trees, sometimes in answer to each
other, in the most delightful manner. We have
also goldfinches, and buUfinches and green and all
other finches that ever bore the narae ; and black-
bobs, linnets, and martins, and the poor Uttle Avren *,
and robin red-breasts out of number ; and such a
colony of sparrows have settled themselves in the
ivy, that our man John says it grieves his heart to
see how they eat up the peas after all his trouble
of sowing and sticking. Guns are never alloAved in
our territory; and scarecrows are of no use Arith
bfrds so gently treated. But one enemy they have
in spite of all our endeavours to guard them ; and
that enemy is a certain favourite cat ; one of the
smallest, yet fiercest, and most beautiful of her kind ;
a very tigress in her nature.
Our proximity to the Taristock canal, Avhich un
fortunately runs through our garden (for it is no
ornament, being too much like a ditch), has brought
* " The golden-crested -wren mentioned by Polwhele is probably
the humming bird noticed by Martin, in the environs of Tavistock,
who describes it as hanging its nest by a thread to the extreme bough
of a tree." — Monthly Review,

XXVII. J A FAVOURITE CAT. 147
upon us a number of rats; and this cat has been
knoAvn to combat and slaughter many nearly as large
as herself. She is, indeed, invaluable on account of
the able manner in Avhich she carries on the war
against these vermin. But she seems determined to
leave no rictory within her reach unaccomplished;
for she hunts birds almost as successfully as she does
rats and mice ; I have often met her groAvling Avith
exultation, and slowly striding up toAvards the house
Arith some luckless robin or finch in her mouth.
Her mode of warfare, which I one day discovered by
chance, showed great deliberation and fierceness.
I observed her sitting under the branches, Avhich
groAv near the ground, of the. cedar of Lebanon;
her body half hidden in the long grass, her fore feet
draAvn up, her head erect, and truly in the attitude
of " cat-Uke watch." I saw at once that her eye was
fixed on a pretty little greenfinch that Avas hopping
on some bushes by the side of the canal. Not
thinking she would commit murder in my sight;
and, indeed, not fancying the bird was in any im
mediate danger, I amused myself Arith seeing what
manoeuvre she would practise next; when, to my
extreme astonishment, the bird aUghting but for an
instant on the grass, she made one spring, and Arith
so true an aim that the poor thing was dead before
I could possibly interfere to save it : the feat was
announced by a low growl ; and trifling as this cir
cumstance was, I could not help thinking it Avas
a miniature representation of the spring, the fierce
ness and the power of the tiger. I took the bird
from her, and scolded and beat her ; but she seeraed
not to heed it ; for she only turned away, drew up
her back like an arch, raised and curled her tail, and
h2

148 THE STORM-THRUSH. [lET.
set off after another bird that caught her eye,
Arithout the delay of a moment.
We constantly hear in our garden that little
watchman of the tempest, the stoi-m-thrush : for
Avhenever A-iolent wind and rain come together, one
or more of these avUI perch on the A'ery topmost
branches of an elm, the loftiest tree we have, and
there Avill sit and pipe, rocking in the gale ; and its
note vriU sometimes seem to grow more loud and
shriU as the Arinds blow stronger and higher. SAval-
lows in abundance pay us a passing A^isit as they
make their rapid evolutions in pursuit of the insect
tribe ; and after haring been on the Aving fi-om sun
rise to sun-doAvn, Ave sometimes see them of an even
ing, hanging Uke bees on the pendant branches of
the shrubs above the canal.
In going doAvn the lawn, the stUl-house, an old
toAver where the monks distiUed thefr medicines and
sweet Avaters *, becomes the point of attraction ; on
returning, the A'icarage and the shrubbery are seen
in the foreground, backed by the tower ofthe church.
And from no part of the grounds do we Aiew any
thing belonging- to the town, excepting a few of the
old buUdings that keep up the character of antiquity
afforded by the massive AvaUs. I must not pass
Arithout notice another object, although a modem
one, of sorae cm-iosity — ^it is the verandah before the
draAring-room Arindows, which Mr. Bray erected
after a design of his own. It now needs repafr, as
it was injured by the A-iolent storms of a AA'inter or
two ago; but in this verandah, as weU as in the
external porch of the house, he has proved that the
zigzag ornament so often seen in our chm-ches of
* The Benedictine monasteries had always a school for medicine.

XXVII,] GARDEN INSCRIPTIONS, 149
Saxon date Avas suggested by wood work. The
frieze is formed in that fashion by small pieces of
fir nailed together ; and the rich brown colour of the
bark of the wood, as avcU as the pattern, produces a
beautiful effect. The festoons, Avhich hang across
the space left open in the verandah before the
windows are composed of pine cones pierced and
strung together upon Avire, the same as those so
much admired Avhich surround the cottage near the
sea in the delightful grounds of Mount Edgcumbe.
The trellis Avork is enriched by the honey-suckle, the
clematis, the pyrus japonica, and a spreading hy-
drangia, whose flowers are of the noblest growth.
In no part of England arc they, I believe, seen so
large and beautiful as in Devonshire.
To the Avest of the house there is a Avalking shed,
erected by Mr. Bray, and very similar to the ve
randah* ; it is thatched ; a boundary Avail supports
the roof; trees grow in front of it, and the ivy and
shrubs render it a cool retreat from the summer's
heat or shower. The following inscriptions were
Avrittcn by Mr. Bray for several parts of the garden.
The second he cut himself on a slab of Devonshire
slate, and placed it on the wall under the Avalking
shed. The third, similarly cut, is on part of the
abbey walls, where the noblest laurels and hollies
form a natural arcade.
INSCUIPTION von A SEAT IN THE OAKUEN, SUGGESTED BY THE NOTE ON
Gen. ii. 8, in Mant's dible,
The man with heavenly wisdom blest,
Seeks in a garden peace and rest,
-A.nd there, by worldly evils ci-oss'd,
He finds " a Paradise unlost."
' Since writing this letter, in Sept. last, the verandah mentioned
was found to be in so dangeioiis a stato from dry rot, thut it was
obligi^d to be taken down.

150 GARDEN INSCRIPTIONS. [lET.
INSCRIPTION UNDER THE WALKING SU£D.
" From storms a shelter, aud frora heat a shade,"
Beneath this shed, ray feeble hands have made,
May I with God, like holy Enoch walk.
As friend to friend, like Moses, hear him talk !
And he, who's the true shadow from the heat,
And shelter from the storm, shall guide ray feet.
Not only here where first I drpw my breath,
But " wheresoe'er I go, through life or death."

INSCRIPTION ON THE ABBEY WALL, FRONTING THE WEST.
Sacred to Zimmerman and Solitude,
Nor worldly cares, nor eastern winds, so rude.
Should hither, could weak man command, intrude.

To Livingus, Abbot of Tavistock*.
Thou taught'st thy king to chide his flatt'ring slaves.
By bidding cease to flow the heedless waves.

To the Same f ,
When fied thy spirit from this sacred pile,
Presageful thunders shook Britannia's isle.

To Elfrida +.
Here to thy heart were peace and virtue known;
Not wheu thy beauty graced fond Edgar's throne.

To Sir Francis Drake ^.
By thee, hold chief! around th' astonish'd world,
Britannia's sovereign flag was first unfurl'd.

* Livingus lived in the reigu of Canute, and was rauch beloved by
that monarch.
I " Just as he was about to expire — Horrisonus crepitus per totara
Angliam auditus, ut ruina et finis totius putaretur orbis." See
' Worthies of Devon.'
J Elfrida caused her son-in-law, Edward the raartyr, to be mur
dered, that her own son Ethelred raight succeed to the crown.
§ Sir Francis Drake was bom at Crowndale, about a mile from
Tavistock.

xxvu,] GARDEN IKSCRIPTIONS. 151
To Glanvil*.
Here to thine eye, illustrious sage !
Themis unrolled her ample page.

To the Family of Fits of Fitz-ford \,
Ye patriot race ! Fond favourites of renown !
Yours was the warlike sword, the peaceful gown.

To Browne X,

Your pasfK^ral lyre the hand of fancy strung.
In Ina's combe when Walla's love you sung.

INSCRIPTION FOU THE ABBEl' WALL, NEAR THE TAVY.
This wall, the abbey's sacred bound, between,
Tavy, though not unheard, yet, ah ! unseen,
Flows on, regardless of ray votive lays.
Or thine, O Browne ! the boast of happier days.
Y'et still I'll string the lyre, still preach the word.
Or all unheeded, or but idly heard ;
Content my labours but to one be known ;
He, who's Hi'mself the great reward alone.
Haring before described Betsey Grimbal's toAver,
I have here only to mention that it is situated near
the entrance to our house, in the quarter towards
the toAvn; but we must stiU continue our Avalk to
the still-house of the monks. In doing so we raust
pass the Arinding path which threads the lawn, at
the extremity of which, and forming a very pic
turesque and elegant object, stands what I call
Cleopatra s Needle. This is nothing more than a
* Glanvil was one of the Justices of the Common Pleas. His
house, Kilworthy, is situated near Tavistock.
•j- As there is no inscription on the raonuraent in the church, it is
uncertain to which of this remarkable family it was erected.
X Tn his 'Britannia's Pastorals,' he has introduced the love of
¦Tavy for Walla; a poetical name for Wallabrook, which runs
iuto it.

152 Cleopatra's needle. [let.
stone about ten feet high, somewhat of the obeUsk
form, with an inscription Avhich shows it to be a
Romanized British memorial of the dead.* This
stone Avas lately presented to my husband in the
most handsome manner by Sir Ralph Lopez, the
present proprietor of the beautiful domain of Maris-
toAve, in our neighbourhood. Thus you find avc
have two of these rare monuments of antiquity sta
tioned in our garden. Not far from the obelisk
there is an arbour, Avhich was speedUy constructed.
Mr. Bray removed to that spot, from the front of
the Abbey-house, Avhich it nearly covered, a very
fine tea-tree, as it is called, by planting it, and
bringing forAvard the branches Avith the support of
a light frame AVork ; so that one and the same day
saAv the rise and completion of his arbour. The
branches thus bent foi-Avard afterwa,rds struck root,
the same at their tops as at the bottom. The birds
arc very fond of this boAver, and build their nests in
and near it. In the arbour there is placed, by way
of seat, the capital of a column that in all probabi
lity belonged to the Abbey-church. The ornaments
Avhicli decorated the 'front are obliterated; but on
one of the sides may still be seen a trefoil emblem
of the Trinity, and on the other a cross. By the
form of the latter, and the style of the Avhole, I
should think this capital is as old as the time of
Livingus, Avhen the Abbey Avas rebuilt, after being
destroyed by the Danes. 1 ought not to omit stat-
* Siu-h memorials aie of the highest antiquity. Josephus (Book
the 7th) describes one, as a marble StelC, near the holy city of Jeru-
.siilem, that was erected as a memorial of himself by Absalom. In
sciipture it is called ' Absalom's place.' The custom of erecting mo
numents for eminent persons during their lifetime prevailed also at
oue period in the middle ages, as we read in Froissart,

XXVII,] the battlements. '^^^-^'^ 0\, 1|3
ing that so highly did the late Mr. Repton, the
celebrated landscape gardener, estimate Mr. Bray's
taste in the art, that he raore than once consulted
hira ; and used good-humouredly to say, that if all
trades failed Mr. Bray might succeed him in his
profession. Beyond the obelisk is a little bridge, built of
stone, that crosses the Taristock canal, on the op
posite bank of Avhich arises my favourite tree, so
often named, the noble cedar. The bridge leads to
the second division of the garden, bounded on the
left by a lateral Avall that belonged to the Abbey,
and joining the still-house, Avhich also unites with
the massive and lengthened boundary walls of the
Abbot's grounds toAvards the river. This is a very
interesting spot. A walk, shaded Avith trees, (so
that it Uterally forms an aA'enue of a sombre charac
ter, quite in harmony Avith monastic buildings,) runs
about three hundi-ed yards, close under this portion
of the Abbey Avails, in a direct Une from the still-
house. A door in the first-mentioned lateral Avail
opens into Avhat is now our kitchen-garden, and
there we can walk under the lofty and battlemented
portion ofthe ancient Avails next the river. The ram
parts, from which you look through the battlements
upon the Tavy beneath, is still entire. From this
spot you also command a good riew of some of the
remains ofthe monastic edifices that exist in the town.
Returning to the second garden, we come out
close to the stUl-house. In this toAver there is an
upper and an under apartment, now in a very
ruinous state; but the former, a foAV years ago,
before the decaying roof for want of repair partially
fell in, afforded a very snug upper room, that would
h3

154 the still-house. [let.
have made a good study for Friar Bacon ; and which
UkcArise reminds me of Buffon's study in the tower
of his garden at Montbard, in Burgundy, where that
great naturalist and most eloquent Avriter patiently
toiled at those Avorks which are noAV held in honour
by aU the nations of Europe. In the little room above
npticed there are three Arindows, one trefoUed, the
others round headed, that look out on the TaA'y,
which runs at the base of the public waUc, foaming
over rocks beloAv. The still-house is overgrown Avith
ivy, and so much does it hide the architecture ofthe
buUdings and the Arindows, that Mr. Bray is about
to have it partially cleared aAvay ; and this he has
hitherto done once every two or three years. Some
time ago a wood-dove took up her abode in the ivy
that grows thus luxuriantly about the old toAver. I
was fond of seeing the bird fly to and from her
nest ; and I believe I may say that I saved its life,
by requesting om- neighbour and cousin, Mr. John
Bray, to forbear firing at it. But the bird did not
know her true friend, for it fled from me as I ap
proached the spot that gave her shelter, — a cir
cumstance Avhich suggested to me, though a very
humble votary of the muses, a fcAV Unes wluch Mr.
Bray wishes me to send you in this letter, as he is
pleased to say they belong to the histoi-y of our
garden ; and as I knoAV you to be one of those in
dulgent poets who look with a kindly feeUng on the
Uttle productions of others, I wUl, Arithout further
apology, here venture to giA'e you my lines : —
TO THE WOOD-DOVE.
Oh ! fly not away, silly dove, from thy nest ;
No footstep is mine to intrude :
Return to thine ivy-built covert of rest.
And cherish thy soft- feather'd brood.

XXVII.] lines to the wood-dove. 155
But here, pretty bird, prithee make thee thy bower.
Thou shalt find it a shelter of love ;
In this old abbey wall, near yon gray-mantled tower,
AA'here the ivy is nodding above.
Yes — there, when the wind sighs in sad fitful moans,
While Tavy rolls dark through the dell,
Fast foaming along o'er the flood-beaten stones.
Thou shalt nestle secure in thy cell.
Or when at grey eve, or the still summer night.
Whilst the clouds in soft livery shine.
Oh, then, pretty wood-dove, bend hither thy flight.
And the care to protect thee be mine.
Here no fowler shall harm thee, uo harsh sounds intrude,
Thou shall list to the notes of thy mate ;
Thou shalt hear but the chirps of thy young, tender hrood,
So blest in their innocent state.
Still thou wander'st abroad on thy light, silver'd wings
Frora her who would shelter thy nest ;
Oh ! turn thee again, ere thine own folly brings
A wound to that beautiful breast.
Ah ! how oft shun we those, foolish dove, like thy flight.
To whose precepts we soonest should bend :
For the smiles of the world, for its follies so light.
We leave the warm heart of a friend,
I have but one spot more to notice in our garden ;
and that is one I never can approach without feel
ings of the tenderest regret. It is the spot where
my beloved mother planted a laurestine, as a memo
rial, before she quitted the vicarage to return to her
OAvn home ; a journey which, from her great age, I
must not hope she can ever undertake again, I
often look on that tree, and remember that the
hand which planted it had sustained me in infancy,
guided my. youth, aiursed me in sickness and in
sorrow, and never, throughout life, met mine but
AA'ith the most devoted kuidness and affection*,
* The beloved raother, here mentioned, Mrs, Anne Kerape, died in
March, 1835,

156 FILIAL PIETY, [lET.
Well may the love of a chUd to a parent be called
filial piety, as distinguishing, as raising it above all
other earthly duties or affections ; for surely if there
is to be seen in this Avorld an image of God's Avatch-
fulness over the creatures he has formed, it is to be
found in the tenderness of a dear mother. Her care
has something in it that is holy ; her heart and eye
are ever Avith her child ; her solicitude is incessant,
absence cannot shake it, for she watches, even at a
distance, for the happiness and safety of her off
spring. Misfortune or distress, that loosen the
bonds of Avorldly regard, draAv but the closer those
of parental affection ; and the afflicted child is often
the dearest because it is the sufferer. In its pros
perity, a mother forgets her oAvn cares, and if it Avins
honour she enjoys that most rare of eQI noble feel
ings, to rejoice in another's praise more than in her
own. Death cannot conquer her affection; it but
sanctifies it ; and she has a cherished hope that AA'iU
blunt his most bitter pang, — to meet her child be
yond the grave, A parent's love, too, does not de
sert even the guilty; it outlives shame, for it Avill
Avait, like God himself, and hope for penitence, and
run to meet it, and rejoice over the lost that is
found, more than over the just Avho need no forgive
ness. The postern in our Abbey Avails that opens on
the walk, is the nearest way from our house to tliat
quiet and beautiful valley CroAvndale; and as I
intend to conclude my letter Avith some account of it,
I take the present opportunity of mentioning that,
in my solitary rambles to this favourite spot, I have
not unfrequently met a remarkable character of this
place, Avho seems as fond of the banks of the Tavy,
in the dfrection toAvards CroAvndale, as I am myself.

XXVII,] THE PARISH CLERK, 157
And if you AriU but let me so far indulge my fancy
as to say I AviU uoav take you thither, whilst Ave pass
on I will endeavour to make you, in some measure,
acquainted Avith this good old man, who, Avith his
fishing- rod in hand, may be often found throAving a
line into the river, the favourite amusement of his
Avalks, This worthy person, though born in humble life,
and possessing no advantages of education beyond
those of reading and Avriting, may truly be called a
Christian philosopher ; for if to possess the soul in
content and peace, to Avalk honestly before God,
and to receive His word with the simplicity and
docility of a little child, constitute the essentials of
true Avisdom, he of whom I speak deserves the title
as much as if he had studied in the schools. I knoAV
you delight in the ' short and simple annals of the
poor;' sAich you wished me to collect, — and where-
ever I can find any that have the interest Avhich re
ligion and moraUty never fail to give them, they
shall not want a record, as far as I have the power
to bestow it ; for no more in Avriting than in society
Avould I Avish to see th^t "Dives and Lazarus
gulph," between the poor and the better classes,
Avhich shows nothing so much, in those Avho form it,
as a hard heart and an arrogant mind. I have
often thought that though in the biographj' of the
rich Ave may learn the lessons of this world, avc,
generally speaking, should be more likely to mark
the Avay to a better in the annals of those amongst
the poor, Avho are, as Bossuet says, " Souls hidden
to the eyes of men, and chiefly hidden to their own
eyes, but Avho know God, and Avho are known of him."
The good man of whom I speak bears no higher

158 THE PARISH CLERK. [LET.
station than that of clerk in our parish church. He
is more than seventy years old, and stUl performs the
duties of his office with cheerfulness and regularity.
He is a most single-hearted being kind, to every
one ; and Arith a privUege, to which his years and his
worth fully entitle him, he wUl give his word of ad-
rice, and even of admonition, to all, Arith the same
good Arill and sincerity ; nor is he other than charit
able in alloAA'ing for the infirmities of his neighbours.
Mr. Doney, for such is his name, though he has
lived here above fifty years, Avas born at Bovey Tracy
in this county. He considers all the good that has
befaUen him in this Ufe, and the happy course he
has hitherto held through it, under Dirine Prori-
dence, to be OAring to the care and example of his
mother: Avho, though obUged to toil for her daily
bread, to bring up her fatherless children in the
humblest Avalks of society, appears, by aU I can learn,
to have been a most exceUent Avoman. From the
earliest age, she taught her Uttle ones the knowledge
and fear of God; to be kind and aff'ectionate to
each other, truly " forbearing one another in loA'e:"
and so much did our worthy clerk feel his obligations
to her, for thus "training him up in the way he
should go," that when she was on her death-bed,
he knelt doAvn by her, thanked her for it, and prayed
God to give her the reward.
At eleven years old he was put to the now for
gotten trade of a stay-maker; but his master
dying when he was about eighteen, he went to sea,
in the Avhale fishery to the coast of Newfound
land. On his return to Taristock he married;
and for many jears Uved happUy vrith his wife, till
she was removed fi-om him by death. He has since

XXVII.] THE PARISH CLERK. 159
taken another, who is still aUve. After his first
marriage, he returned to business and settled in this
town ; but he soon found that stay-making was fast
faUing as a trade ; and though he had no prospect
of any other to which he could turn his hand, yet,
to use his own words, he put his trust in God, and
waited His time as patiently as he could. The
parish clerk died just at this juncture ; and the late
ricar haring observed hoAV constant Mr. Doney had
been in his attendance at church for ten years, and
hearing that he bore a good character, gave him the
appointment so recently become vacant. This hap
pened at the very moment the good man's business
was become so dead that he must have been reduced
to extreme necessity but for the relief thus afforded
to him. Mr. Doney, who in all the events of his life
never forgets the ' Great Ffrst Cause,' gave the praise
for this blessing where it was due ; and a joyful day
was it for him Avhen he became, though the humblest,
a servant in the house of the Lord. Two years after,
in 1811, Mr. Bray became the Vicar of Taristock;
and from that hour to the present he has had the
fiUlest experience of the integrity and the true
christian piety of his worthy clerk, for whom he en
tertains the highest respect and regard. It is not a
little remarkable that he has never been prevented
by Ulness, or any other cause, a single day, discharg
ing his duties in the church during all these years.
Our friend, Mr. Doney, is now of a spare person,
and begins to feel the infirmities of time, and to
show them in his countenance ; yet the expression of
cheerfulness and benevolence by Avhich that counte
nance has always been distinguished, is unchanged,
and I doubt not avUI remain the same to the last.

160 THE PARISH CLERK. [lET.
since it is but a reflection of the good man's mind.
He has a Aveak thin voice, though he is quick and
ready in all matters of business. In his dress he
observes the old fashion of Avearing buckles in his
shoes; and has tAvo Avigs, one light coloured for
week days, the other, somewhat darker, for Sundays.
Indeed the Arigs of the Tavistock parish clerks have,
I understand, ahvays been famous. Mr. Doney's
predecessor, in the time of a former vicar, used to
inherit the cast-off wigs of his master, from Avhose
noAv frizzled headpiece they Avere alone distinguished
by being less poAvdered and pomatumed.
It is a great pleasure to us to hear Mr. Doney
talk : in doing so he has a habit of standing Avith
his hands crossed upon his arms ; and his remarks
on the circumstances of the times, or such as may
occur in the parish, or on the sermon of a Sunday,
though full of simplicity, are Avell worth the hearing
and remembering, for they are ahvays founded on
truth and good sense; since Mr. Doney is one of
those who study the Bible as a practical and daily
guide, not merely as a book only to be reverenced
and thought of on a Sunday. Indeed, such is his
love of truth in its most literal sense, that he ahvays
speaks it to the letter ; and Avhatever- he tells you,
if about himself, or anything else, you may know
it is the relation of a simple fact, neither palliated
nor coloured by prejudice, nor having one Avord more
or less than is necessary. His ideas on most sub
jects are truly primitive, and of that old school Avhich
is now alraost forgotten by the rising generation.
He considers loyalty to the king, and submission to
the laws of the land, and to the rulers of the same,
as much a part of scripture commandment as any

XXVII.] THE PARISH CLERK. 161
other Avritten precept to regulate our duties, and
he likes not to hear those placed by Providence in
such lUgh stations too familiarly spoken of, or their
conduct too curiously questioned by their inferiors ;
as he thinks it tends to shake that reverence and
old respect Avhich their office ought to secure for
them, for their OAvn benefit, as Avell as for the good
of those Avho are placed under them in the state.
For the Church, as being founded on the very
spu-it of scripture, its liturgy, its ceremonies, and its
ministers, he entertains the greatest love and vene
ration ; and he thinks that all dissent fi-om such an
admirable establishment is the raost bitter and
deadly AA'ork of that spirit of evil, Avho goes about
to produce this dissent by taking advantage of the
pride of some, the doubts of others, and the igno
rance of all. The devU he justly holds to be an
agent as active in these days as in any of old ; and
that it is now one of his Aviles to hide himself, and to
make men think little of him, so that he may the
more covertly Avatch to catch souls, as the wolf does
the stray sheep from the flock.
In temporal matters our honest friend is somewhat
of a theorist. Snuff he considers as a sort of pana
cea ; and that it is particularly adA'antageous in keep
ing the head in a comfortable and quiet state ; and he
strongly recommends the use of it to those Avho read
or Avi-ite much. His favourite theory respecting all
diseases that afflict the human frame is, that they
arise from nothing but the Arind; and he thinks
that the doctors should go to work to cure the pri
mary cause rather than secondary effects. This
theory he illustrates by arguments draAvn from
nature ; the constant and obvious action Avhich the

162 THE PARISH CLERK. [LET.
wind has upon the seas, rivers and clouds; its
poAver to convey pestilence, or to dispel noxious
vapours, &c. And he justly thinks that the severity
of most disorders is much increased by man not liv
ing so simply or so laboriously as he Avas designed
to do by his Creator ; and, above all, by a want of
Christian patience and humility — patience to keep
his mind easy, and humUity to keep doAvn his ex
pectations, so that he may not trouble himself by
the crosses and disappointments of the Avorld; to
which he considers the favourites of Heaven are
more peculiarly Uable; Christ haring promised to
all such persecutions as amongst the blessings they
are to receive in their pUgrimage here on earth;
and all trouble either of mind or body may come
under that head. . Many books Mr. Doney does not
think good; because, he says, they take off our
time fi-om the study of the Bible, Avhich, if a man
reads all his Ufe long, avUI be ahvays found new, and
he Avill become the Ariser for it. Jeremy Taylor (or
" Avorthy Mr. Taylor," as he calls that good and ,
leaiHied Bishop) is his most favourite author; and
so well is he acquainted Arith the few works he has
of that divine, that I verily believe he knows the
greater part of them by heart ; and he is very fond
of referring to them and to scripture, in conver
sation, always vrith cheerfulness, and without the
least shade of Avhat is termed cant. The truth is,
his mind is constantly bent on the word of God ; his
conversation, therefore, naturally takes its colour
ing from his thoughts. One of his opinions is, that
every heart may be known by the pen; for let a
person be never so deceitful, he cannot mask him
self, for God will not let him, in his Avritings ; and

XXVII.] 'THE PARISH CLERK. 163
that if you often Avrite to any one, you may know the
heart of that person as Avell as if you could turn it
inside out : for little words, he says, like little things,
shoAV man or Avoman as much as great ones ; and
Uttle things are not taken so much " count" of; and
there is seen the spirit, as in the cfrcumstance of the
AridoAv's mite.
Indeed, Avhenever you enter into conversation
Arith good Mr. Doney, it is sure to lead to some
moral, or some religious observation; for he never
can think that the wisdom, the fear, or the love of
God should be separated fi-om anything. The last
time I met him in one of my walks to Crowndale,
he had his fishing rod in his hand ; and as I learnt
we Avere partly going the sarae way, we joined cora
pany ; and on that day, like the melancholy Jaques
(though the word melancholy does not very weU
apply to my friend), I found him " full of raatter."
The morning, he told me, Avas not favourable for
fishing; Avhich I should not rayself have guessed,
as the day Avas sunny and delightful ; but he felt as
much amusement, I beUeve, in throvring his line
and in catching nothing, as if he had been ever so
successful in his sport. As we passed along, the
beauty of the river, as its limpid Avaters, that seemed
to talk to us, ran gurgling over the rocks and stones,
drew our attention ; and the wooded hills and open
ing vaUey of Crowndale shone with aU the freshness
and rivacity of a morning in the spring: I made
some sUght remark on the country ; and he foUoAved
it up by an observation that forcibly struck me for
its singular coincidence, even in expression, vrith a
Une in Shakspeare ; a poet whose AVorks, I am cer
tain, he had never seen : for, whUst speaking of the

164 THE PARISH CLERK. [lET.
wisdom of God displayed in his creation, Mr. Doney
said, " that, for his part, he could find sermons in the
very stones, and Providence in every thing about
him ! "
Another thing he said that was as striking as it
Avas just — "That anger Avas a storm, in Avhich reason
could not be heard; and Ave must take Christ's
word, like Peter, to lay the tempest, or we should sink
in it." Mary ColUng, is a great favourite with Mr.
Doney ; and no wonder : Avhere there is so much con
geniality in true wisdom, (that which rules in the
heart) there vrill be a fellowship of kindness and of
feeling. If I were to Avrite doAvn half the wise and
good remarks I have heard from our worthy parish
clerk, this letter Avould not soon find an end. Ano
ther anecdote, however, I raust mention, ere I bid
adieu to him. He Avas here the other day, and
assisted me in looking over the oldest register we
have (beginning in 1614), as I Avished to ascertain
the tirae of the birth of one of the famous family of
Glanviile. We chanced to turn over the pages to
the entry of the deaths in the great plague-year in
Tavistock, 1626. The list was a formidable one ;
so formidable, that Mr. Doney's spirit of religious
reflection could not pass it Avithout a comment.
He said, and raost justly, how thankful Ave ought
to be that our present register did not show the
same melancholy numbers, considering hoAV the
cholera had lately raged at Plyraouth, and hoAV con
stant our communication had been with that toAvn.
There was but one year that he remembered, since
he had been clerk, AA'hen the deaths in this parish
(Avhich are about one hundred yearly) had extended
to any extraordinary amount; that Avas AA'hen the

XXA'II.] CROWNDALE. 165
small-pox raged so terribly amongst the chUdren.
He told me the poor mothers were then, like Ra
chel, Aveeping for their children, and Avould not be
comforted because they Avere not ; but he did all he
could, in his Avay, to console them. " For I told
them," said Mr. Doney, " that it Avas Christ's word
to suffer Uttle chUdren to come to hira, for of such
was the kingdom of heaven ; and that Avas the best
thing I could think of to say to them." — " A bishop
could not have spoken better, Mr. Doney," I replied,
" than jovl did to these poor mothers ; and I dare
say you did comfort them." — " I did my best," he re
joined, "but all comfort comes fi-ora above."
I must not forget, too, an instance of Mr. Doney's
good will in speaking in defence of a young clergy
man in this neighbourhood whom some one censured,
in lus presence, for going out hunting. He told
the censurer " not to judge rash judgment ; for Isaac,
as good a soul as ever breathed, sent out his son
Esau to kill venison for him that he might make a
saA'oury dish, and that in our time there Avas no harm
in it ; and allowance raust be made for young men,
though they were ministers." Our good clerk, in
the single-heartedness of his character, his affec
tionate respect for his "master,'' as he caUs Mr.
Bray, and his love of the church, reminds me much
of the worthy parish clerk so feelingly described by
Izaak Walton in his Life of Hooker.
In the quiet valley of Crowndale, situated about
a mile distant to the south-west of Tavistock, and
towards Avhich we have been thus slowly advancing,
there are none of those bold and striking features
which afford a grand subject for a painter, and a
good one for an author. Yet the artist may find in

166 CROWNDALE. [lET.
it many a picturesque study, and the fertile fancy
may there indulge its reverie of past times with ad
vantage, surrounded, as the valley is, by objects of
a pleasing and pastoral character. VicAved with
feelings of this description (and surely foAV can see
the birth-place of Di-ake without them), the ima
gination, which has a charm to make even nature
herself obedient to her behests, may here exert its
power in a thousand agreeable visions, till, Uke the
azure fields of air, Avhen the rainboAv spreads its
glorious arch amid thera, the reposing landscape is
seen more beautiful from the varied colouring of a
poetic mind.
The river flows past the picturesque arches of
West Bridge in a rippUng course over its bed of
pebbles and stones in many a Arind and bend to
wards Crowndale, till suddenly taking a bolder
sweep near a place called Brook, it encounters and
rushes over several scattered masses of rock, foam
ing with that impetuosity after rain Avhich gives so
animated a character to most streams that, like the
Tavy, have their source in mountainous or elevated
lands. A pretty cottage at Brook stands close to
ihe water's side, Arith steps cut in the shelving rock
that descend to it from the Uttle garden. Fields
and meadows are opposite ; and many an old tree,
whose roots start from the banks ofthe river, -throws
its branches across it where shade and sunshine
may alternately be found to relieve each other Arith
the most beautiful effects, whilst the tremulous
boughs raake those dancing shadoAvs that chequer
the ground beneath. In the summer months the
fox-glove, here so tall and luxuriant, and a vast va
riety of Avild plants, give a rich and gay appearance

XXAII.] THE TAVY. 167
to the banks of the hedge-rows and the fields ; and
the cattle, in many of them, stray to the river's side,
and are often seen standing as motionless as statues
cooling themselves in the water.
Farther doAvn, the valley is terminated by lofty
and steep hills (and there the scene becomes more
AvUd, rocky, and broken) that are clothed to their
summits Arith wood, and form part of the ancient
domain of Walreddon. At no great distance from
Brook, and opposite to the spot where Drake was
born, the Tavy is seen as clear as crystal. When
I Avas last there, several sheep Avere grazing on a
plot of grass that runs down to the water's brink
where some of them were drinking ; and a Avhole
flock of geese, that appeared quite familiar with
thefr four-footed companions, flapped their wings
and saUed upon the river as stately as swans, with
the highest degree of enjoyment, and reminded me
of your geese at the rocky basin in the mountain
stream near Castlerigg ; for, Uke your flock, they
Avould sometimes " thrust their long necks under the
water straight down, and turned up their broad
yellow feet ; sometimes rose half way up, shaking
and clapping their wings ; sometimes vrith retorted
head pruned themselves as they floated. Thefr
motion did not in the sUghtest degree defile the
water, for there was no soU to disturb : the stream,
floAring from its mountain springs over a bed of
rock, had contracted no impurity in its course, and
these birds were so deUcately clean that they could
not sully it : the few feathers which they plucked or
shook off were presently carried away by the cur
rent."* * See Colloquies, vol. i. page 146.

168 BIRTH-PLACE OF DRAKE. [lET.
There is something peculiarly beautiful in this
spot. It is so sequestered, that it seems shut out
from all the Avorld. The surrounding objects are
simple ; there is nothing to produce surprise, or any
other strong emotion, but all is tranquil and in
harmony. There is cheerfiilness in the verdure of
the meadows ; the little plot of grass is thickly set
Avith tufts of daisies, and Avith the Avhite cloA'er, that
banquet for the sheep. It is so sheltered, that the
rudest Arinds seldom disturb its repose ; and here
the Tavy does not foam or rush along impetuously,
but passes onAvard in gentle ripples,
" That sing the song which contemplation loves."
And HERE Drake was born ; and here stood the
old barn-looking cottage (for it Avas no better) in
Avhich he first drew breath, with its antique win
dows, and all its character of past times about it,
till, alas, for modern innovation I this poor building,
which should have been held sacred as long as one
stone" would rest upon another, Avas pulled doAvn to
give place to an ox-stall, or some such common ap
pendage to the farra-house hard by *. This hap
pened Avhile Mr. Bray was in London, many years
back ; for had he knoAvn it in time he Avould have
Avritten to the proprietor, the Duke of Bedford, to
warn his Grace of the destruction that was medi
tated against a vestige so replete Avith interest to
all Avho are not insensible to the power of local and
historical associations ; to aU Avho delight to trace
Avhatever may be connected with men, the greatness
¦* Mr. Bray fortunately made a slight sketch of the house in which
Drake was born, not long before it^was pulled down. This was very
incorrectly copied in the etching which appeared in Lewis's Views of
the Tavy.

XXVII.] FAME OF DRAKE. 169
of whose designs is derived from that of their
genius; and, God prospering thera, who become
an honour to their age and to their country. Mr."
Bray once suggested to the Duke of Bedford that,
as the house no longer stood, it would be well to
erect, as a memorial, a common block of granite
near the spot, in the form of an obelisk, like the
Romanized-British stones. He wrote, also, the fol
lowing distich, by way of inscription, should the
Duke think it worth Avhile to have it cut in the
block : —
" Who the New World bade British thunders shake ?
Who mark'd out bounds fo both ? — Our native Drake."
I do not knoAV whence CroAvndale derived its
name. Mr. Bray, in one of his inscriptions*, has
been pleased to consider it was so called from Ed
gar's Jiaving there offered the crown to Elfrida.
An antiquary would ask his authority for such a
supposition; but a poet Avill not be unwilling to
admit it, though it have no surer basis than that
of imagination.
Tradition, in this part of the west, is still busied
Avith the fame of Drake ; and all the stories told of
him are of a wUd and extravagant nature. No
doubt this originated frora the terror of his name,
and the wonder of his exploits — exploits so extra
ordinary, that they Avere here considered to owe
their success to something supernatural in himself,
and that he often performed them by the power of
enchantment. Nor can we feel surprised at this
''¦ " Fired by her charms, that far outshone renown,
Edgar, on Tavy's banks, his kingly crown
Laid at Elfrida's feet, as Beauty's meed ;
And does not Crowndale still attest the deed ?"
VOL. II. 1

170 TRADITIONS OF DRAKE. [lET.
credulity when we recollect that, even in these days
¦with the peasantry of Devon, Avitchcraft is still be
Ueved to be practised in the county, and that ex
traordinary cfrcumstances or sufferings are brought
about by the active agency and co-operation of the
devU*. Thus was our hero converted, by popular opinion,
into a Avizard ; and as such the " old warrior " (for
so the lower classes here call Drake) is to the
present time considered amongst them. The fol
lovring traditionary tales Avill serve to shoAV the sort
of necromantic adventures which credulity has
fastened on the memory of the great naval admiral
ofthe reign of good Queen Bess,
One day whilst Sir Francis Drake was playing at
the game of Kales f on the Hoe at Plymouth, it
was announced to him that a foreign fleet (the
Armada, I suppose) Avas sailing into the harbour
close by. He showed no alarm at the intelUgence,
but persisted in playing out his game. When this
was concluded, he ordered a large block of timber
and a hatchet to be brought to him. He bared his
arms, took the axe in hand and manfully chopped
up the wood into sundry smaller blocks. These he
hurled into the sea, while, at his command, every
block arose a fire- ship ; and, Arithin a short space of
time, a general destruction of the enemy's fleet took
* Our much esteemed friend, Arthur Chichester, Esq., late of Gre-
nofen, and now of Stokelake, told me a story of a farmer coraing to
him as a magistrate to consult how he had best proceed against an
old woman who had bewitched him in his aim, and his cattle also.
I have known many other similar instances.
t This is our provincial name, for what, I believe, is nothing more
than the common game of nine-pins, or skittles, now played by the
vulgar in public-house yards.

XXVII,] TRADITIONS OF DRAKE, 171
place in consequence of the irresistible strength of
those vessels he had caUed up to "flame amaze
ment" on the foes of Elizabeth and of England.
Wild as this story is, there is something of grandeur
in the idea of Drake standing on such a commanding
elevation as the Hoe, vrith the sea (Avhich spreads
itself at its foot) before him, and that element, to
gether vrith the fire-ships, obedient to the power of
his genius, whose energies Avere thus marvellously
exerted for the safety of his country.
The next tradition respecting Sir Francis Avas
coraraunicated to rae by our AVorthy and esteemed
fi-iend, Mr. Davies Gilbert, Avho has shoAvn the
interest he takes in such fi-agments of the "olden
tirae " by the very curious collection he some years
ago published of the Cornish Ballads.
In the days of Drake the vulgar considered the
world to be composed of tAvo parallel planes, the one
at a certain distance from the other. In reference
to this space it Avas commonly said that Sir Francis
had "shot the gulf," raeaning that his ship had
turned over the edge of the upper plane so as to
pass on to the waters of the under. " There is,"
said Mr. Daries Gilbert, " an old picture of Drake
at Oxford, representing him holding a pistol in one
hand, which, in former years, the man who acted as
showman to strangers was wont to say (still further
improring upon the story) was the very pistol itself
Arith which Sfr Francis shot the gulf! "
Another story told of this hero is, that the people
of Plymouth Avere so destitute of water in the reign
of Queen EUzabeth, that they were obliged to send
their clothes to Plympton to be washed in fresh
i2

172 TRADITIONS OF DRAKE. [lET.
water. Sir Francis Drake resolved to rid them of
this inconvenience. So he called for his horse,
mounted, rode to Dartmoor, and hunted about tUl
he found a very fine spring. Having fixed on one
that would suit his purpose, he gave a smart lash
to his horse's side, pronouncing as he did so some
magical words, when off" went the animal as fast as
he could gallop, and the stream followed his heels
all the way into the town. This assuredly Avas not
only the most wonderful, but the most cheap and
expeditious mode of forraing a canal ever known or
recorded by tradition.
The next story of Sir Francis is a very singular
one, nor can I in the least trace its origin to any
real circurastance which might have been exagge
rated in the relation, till it becarae, Uke the other
tales about our hero, necroraantic. It seems, in
every way, a fiction. The good people here say
that whilst the " old warrior " was abroad, his lady,
not hearing from hira for seven years, considered
he must be dead, and that she was free to marry
¦again. Her choice was made — the nuptial day
fixed, and the parties had assembled in the church.
Now it so happened that at this very hour Sir Fran
cis Drake was at the antipodes of Devonshire, and
one of his spirits, who let him know from time to
tirae how things went on in England, Avhispered in
his ear in Avhat raanner he Avas about to lose his wife.
Sir Francis rose up in haste, charged one of his
great guns, and sent off a cannon ball so truly
airaed that it shot up right through the globe,
forced its way into the church, and fell with a loud
explosion betAveen the lady and her intended bride-

XXVII.] TRADITIONS OF DRAKE. 173
groom. " It is the signal of Drake," she exclaimed,
" he is alive, and 1 am still a Avife. There must be
neither troth nor ring between thee and rae."
Another legend of Sir Francis represents hira as
acting from motives of jealousy and cruelty in a way
he was very little likely to do. The story says that
Avhilst he Avas once sailing in foreign seas he had on
board the vessel a boy of uncommonly quick parts.
In order to put them to the proof. Sir Francis ques
tioned the youth and bade him tell Avhat might be
their antipodes at that moment. The boy without
hesitation told him Barton Place (for so Buckland
Abbey Avas then called), the Admiral's oavu mansion
in his native county. After the ship had raade
some further progress Sir Francis repeated his
question, and the answer he received Avas, that they
Avere then at the antipodes of London Bridge.
Drake, surprised at the accuracy of the boy's know
ledge, exclaimed " Hast thou, too, a devil ? If I let
thee live, there Avill be one a greater man than I am
in the world;'' and, so saying, he threw the lad
overboard into the sea, Avhere he perished.
There is likewise another legend concerning
Drake, of which I have heard a confused account : it
is something about the devil helping him to move a
great stone, whilst he was repairing certain parts of
Buckland Abbey ; but I have so vague a recollection
ofthis story, that I raust not venture to repeat it in
detail. You once mentioned having yourself heard
this tradition when you were in Devon ; and very
possibly you may remember these particulars which
I have forgotten.
The people of Tavistock say, that notwithstanding
this place is fourteen mUes from the sea (at PI3'-

174 TRADITIONS OF DRAKE. [lET.
mouth). Sir Francis Drake offered to make his native
town a sea-port, if the inhabitants would but haA'e
granted to him the estate of Mile-mead.
I have something more to say of Drake ere I quit
the subject of local anecdotes about him ; but this
letter haring run on to an unconscionable length, I
must here conclude Avith assuring you, my dear Sir,
how much I am.
With every feeling of respect.
Very sincerely yours,
Anna Eliza Bray*.

¦* I cannot here resist extracting from a letter which I had the
honour to receive from Mr. Southey, in reply to the above, a passage
or two respecting Drake.
" You have indeed collected a rich harvest of traditions concerning
Sir Francis Drake. I had heard of his shooting the gulf; and of
his pushing the boy overboard who knew that they were under
London bridge. My story of the stone is yours of the marriage :
with this variation, that instead of a ball coming up through the
earth, a huge round stone fell through the air upon the train of the
intended bride's gown, as she was on the way to church ; upon
¦which she turned back, saying, she knew it came from her husband.
My story adds that the stone is still used as a weight upon the
harrow ofthe farm ; and if it be removed fiom the estate in which it
fell, always returns thither. Yours is much the grander fiction. My
story says, moreover, that it was not long before Sir Francis returned,
and iu the dress of a beggar asked alms of his wife at her own door ;
but in the raidst of his feigned tale, a smile escaped him, and he was
recoguized, and of course joyfully embraced. This is borrowed from
Guy, Earl of Warwick, and is fuund also in other romances. The
miracle of leading the water is common in the lives of the saints,
and especially of the Irish saints, who generally led it up hill to make
the miracle the greater.
"These stories probably originated in the notion which was very
piously entertained by the Spaniards that Drake dealt with the devil,
and owed his success to the assistance which the devil gave him.
The English catholics were likely enough to have received this notion
from their Spanish friends; aud it made its way among the people
because of its romantic character. The black art in popular tradition

XXVII.] TRADITIONS OF DRAKE. 175
is no very black business when it is not employed for black purposes ;
and there is generally some contrivance for whitewashing such pro
ficients as Drake, Friar Bungay, and Friar Bacon just in time ; — Lope
de Vega, to whose Dragontia I have this moraent referred to refresh
my memory, says of Drake, that our countrymen admitted he had
dealings with the devil, and praised him for it, so that it was no
calumny of Spain's, Que no es en erto EspaSa mentirosa :
and that he (Lope), when he was in the Armada, had heard all this
from some soldiers in the same ship, who had been eight years pri
soners in England. The raost curious piece of slanderous fiction
concerning him which I have seen is in the Latin poem of a Jesuit.
I shall extract it for a note iu my Naval History ; in which, indeed,
if your letters had been published, I should have been very much
tempted to have incorporated all your stories."

176

LETTER XXVIII.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

Contents: — Drake, his residence at Buckland Abbey— Benefits
conferred by him on tbe town of Plymouth — The Leet — D.-ake ; the
more interesting parts of his life not generally kiuiwn — His family
— His father; probably Vicar of Tavistock— His exile into Kent —
Date of Francis Drake's birth not known with any certainty — Six
Articles — Sir Francis Russel, his godfather — Drake's father con
cealed in a shin — On the death of Henry, becomes a ch;iplain —
Francis Drake goes to sea — Dealh of his master, who leaves bim
his ship — Drake related to Hawkins — Joins him in an enterprize to
the West Indies — Spanish treachery — Drake loses all his property
— Vows vengeance against Spain — Fuller's apology for his piracies
— Drake sails in the Dragon and the Swan — His fortunes improve
— Is raised to the rank of captain — Sails in the Pascha — Arrives
off America — Steers for Port Pheasant — Observes Captain Gar.
ret's warning — Fortifies himself on the coast, and builds up the
pinnaces — Joined by Rawse— Drake receives mformation of Ihe
state of Nombre de Dios — Prepares to set forward on an expedition
to attack the town — His great hazard — The town assaulted — His
men eager for fhe spoil — He leads on to fhe king's treasure — His
weapons injured by rain — Panic — His bravery — Danger of his men
— Harangues them — Leads on again ; is dangt-rously wounded —
Carried to the ships — Spanish Envoy, or spy — His interview with
the Captain — Parts company with Rawse — Feels success in this
expedition to be necessary to bis reputation — Learns that the
richest Spanish settlements are at Carthagena — Anchors near
St. Bernard — Prevails with fhe ship carpenter to destroy tlie Swan
— Drake departs for Rio Grande — Surprised by a hurricane during
the night — A dead calm succeeds — Swarm of mosquitoes — Descry a
Spaniard on the opposite shore — Pillage— Erect four magazines for
their spoils — His brother John goes in search of the Scymerons —
Holds friendly communication with them — Waits to take from the
rivers fhe gold cast into them — Drake's motive for desiring to
possess wealth — Builds a fortress of timber — His successes — His
daring and romantic courage — Leaves the coast of Carthagena for
Rio de Heba — Drake's Crew; their distress from want of food —
Sickness — Very fatal — Arrives at Port Diego — His brotber Joseph

XXVIII.] CONTENTS. 177
dies in his arms — Receives news that the Spanish fleet is arrived at
Nombre de Dios to bear off the treasures of Panama — Determines
to possess himself of them — A Spanish ship captured — The negroes
wish to murder the raen — Drake protects them — Drake sets off on
his overland expedition iu pursuit of the treasures — His journey
and adventures noticed — Ascends the great tree — Sees the north
and south Atlantic oceans — Forms his resolution (o be the first to
sail au English ship in those unknown seas — His prayer for suc
cess — Arrives near Panama — Marches towards Veuta Cruz — Sur
prises a Spanish soldier sleeping — Commands a strict silence — The
mu'es laden with treasure appear in sight — Drake's plan rendered
abortive by the drunkenness of one of his followers — Robert Pike —
A body of Spaniards stationed to receive them— Assault and
defence — Drake's victory — His humanity to the conquered — His
march overland — Arrives on fhe banks of the Tortugas — Town of
huts built with the branches of the Palmetto — Drake sends hi^i
token to fhe captain to sail up the river — Drake on board the
Minion — Sails to the Cabezas to seize the treasure — Joined by a
Frenchman — He leaves the large vessel — Proceeds for Rio Fran
cisco — Lands — Mules and their drivers advance from Panama —
Spanish soldiers who guard fhe treasure overcome — ^The treasure
too weighty to be removed by the crew — Their perilous situation —
Drake's gallantry and spirit — The genius of Drake suggests an
expedient fo save them — Constructs a raft — For six hours in danger
of instant death — Descries the pinnaces — Joy at their deliverance —
Rewards the faithful negro, Pedro, with his sword set with
diamonds — Returns to England — Drake lands at Plymouth, 1573
— The people run out of church to see him — Drake's great plan to
sail his ship in fhe unknown seas — Obstacles — He overcomes thera.
— 1577, once more quits the shores of England — Driven back by a.
storm — Sails again — comes in sight of the isle of Magadon —
Lands — ^The savages seize one of his crew — Touches at Cape-
Blanc — The inhabitants beg water— Drake gives it to them — They
assist hira with provisions — His fleet draws near the Line — They
approach fhe coast of Brazil — Inhabitants — Incantations to raise a
storm — April 7th, dreadful storm — The Christopher supposed to be
lost — Joins fhe fleet again — Drake enters the river Plate — Violent
tempest — Loss of the fleet appreheuded — He enters the Elizabeth —
Sends Captain Winter to look after the ships missing.
Vicarage, Tavistock, Oct. 8, 1832.
My DEAR Sir,
In returning to the subject of Drake, I can
not forbear observing that there is some reason to
i3

178 LIFE OF DRAKE. [LET.
suppose our great naval hero retained throughout
life an affection for the neighbourhood in Avhich he
Avas born; a feeling that we often see strongly
marked in raen of genius. It is not unlikely Drake
(who, by his own merit and God's favour, rose from
a poor lad to become the terror of Spain, and the
wonder of England) might have a secret pleasm-e in
risiting the scenes of his boyhood, Avhere lus ardent
mind had employed itself in those risions of enterprize
and forebodings of success which persons of great un
derstanding at a very early period are apt to indulge,
tUl they sometimes become prophets to themselves,
as they feel Arithin them a strong assurance, like the
whisper of their better angel, that the course they
have to run AriU be marked by more than ordinary
things. Drake's fondness for Buckland Abbey,
where during his latter years he frequently resided
whilst in England, is weU knoAvn. There one of the
finest portraits of hira is still preserved, together
with his bible, his sword, and his ship- drum, that
went Arith him round the world. He was also a
munificent benefactor to Plyraouth, by causing a
supply of fresh water to be brought to that town,
from a distance of many miles, over the rocky and
elevated lands of Dartmoor. On the completion of
the Leet, for so it is called, the mayor and corpora
tion, dressed in thefr formaUties, accompanied by
Sir Francis, came out to meet the water, and followed
the stream in procession, as it Avas for the first time
permitted to floAV into the town, whilst the ringing
of beUs and the discharge of cannon welcomed its
arrival in full chorus.
On referring to your letter of March, 1831, where
you so kindly suggested to me the subjects ¦you
would vrish to see erabraced in a local history, so as

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 179
to make it of universal interest, you have named
"the whole of its History and Biography." Sir
Francis Drake, born in our parish, certainly comes
under the latter class ; and though I shall attempt
to give little more than a sketch of his life, particu
larly noticing any events that may be connected
vrith the county of his birth ; yet, should these letters
ever go beyond j'our hands, even a sketch may not
be unacceptable to such of my readers (especially in
this part of England) as may never have had the
good fortune to meet with Johnson's life of our hero ;
or Fuller's or Prince's abbreviated notices of him, in
the ' Worthies of Devon*.' I have not unfrequently
been surprised to find that, even some who are con
sidered reading persons, in this neighbom-hood,
knew very Uttle more of Drake than that he was
born here, saUed round the world, and fought the
Armada ; whUst of his personal adventures, and the
more minute cfrcumstances of his history, replete as
they are vvith Arild and romantic interest, they knew
nothing whatever, nor seemed to suspect there was
anything Avorth knoAving about them.
Francis Drake, the eldest of twelve male children,
was the son of a minister of the reformed church.
He was born in Crowndale, in the parish of Taris
tock, Devon. The time of his birth, as it wUl appear,
I think, on examination, is very doubtful ; and as
our registers, prerious to 1614, were lost or de-
* This letter was written in Oct. 1832. It was not till I had
nearly completed the present sketch of Drake's life, that I learnt Mr.
Southey was about writing it for his Naval History. Had I known
this sooner, I should indeed have touched on the subject with re
luctance.

180 LIFE OF DRAKE. [LET.
stroyed, probably during the troublesome days of
Charles I., there is here no record by which we can
now ascertain the date Avith any certainty. That
his father's connexions were very respectable, raay be
inferred -by Sir Francis Russel, afterwards Earl of
Bedford, standing sponsor to the chUd at the font,
to whom he gave his own christian name.
If Drake's father might have been the vicar of
this place, I have not been able to discover ; but as
Sir Francis Russel held the abbey lands given by
Henry VIII., the patronage of our church came
likewise to him, and he might have nominated Drake
to the living of Tavistock.
It has been generally asserted by historians that
our naval hero Avas born about the year 1545. This,
hoAvever, I think I shall prove to be incorrect, since
it Avas after his birth that his father fled from Devon
to conceal himself in Kent, in consequence of his
nonconformity to the fearful Six Articles. Now as
these articles became a law in 1539, hoAv could
Francis Drake, who, when yet a child, Avas the com
panion of his father's flight into Kent, to avoid the
danger he incurred by dissent, have been born so
long after as 1545 ?
It may be urged that if Drake held the living of
Taristock (as very likely he did), he might, on the
appearance of the Six Articles, throw it up ; and
retire from the old vicarage in the town, to the poor
barn-looking house in Crowndale, in 1539 ; and
might not quit that humble retreat, where he as
suredly lived in indigence, tiU some intimation was
conveyed to him that the law would be enforced
against him for his disobedience. Admitting this to

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 181
be probable, it is not likely he would be suflrered to
remain unmolested in Crowndale for so long a period
as till the year 1545. And another argument may
be urged in support of the opinion that his son
Francis was born before the articles in question were
established by law ; namely, that it is most impro
bable Sir Francis Russel — a man so highly favoured
and enriched by Henry, and one who so Avell under
stood the character of his benefactor — would have
exposed himself to the risk of displeasing his royal
master by standing sponsor, and giving his own
name to the son of a clergyman who refrised com
pliance Arith the very articles the king had set up ;
and one of them under a penalty as cruel as that
ordained by Nebuchadnezzar himself in support of
his idol — the fiery death, on denial of the same*.
This circumstance alone, Avhen duly considered,
surely will go far to prove that our Drake was born
prerious to that memorable epocha in the history of
the church; and be it also reraembered that Sir
Francis Russel, to the last, preserved the favour of
Henry, — a sure sign he was a cautious man in his
conduct towards that tyrant.
I have somewhat dwelt on this point, because in
most of the books I have seen about Drake (except
ing Johnson's, where no date is given), the authors
will have it that he was born in 1545. Where is
their authority ?
In what raanner Drake's father supported himself
and his increasing 'family after his flight into Kent
is not known ; probably he had friends who assisted
'* All persons denying fhe real presence iu fhe Sacrament were, by
the first of Henry's Six Articles, subjected to be burnt alive, and to
forfeiture of goods, &c., the same as on a conviction of high treason.

182 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
him in his concealment; and as a man who from
religious motives placed his very Ufe in perU of an
arbitrary laAV could not be other than conscientious
in all points of duty, it will not be conjecturing too
much if we consider that the devout feelings that
marked the character of our great naval captain
throughout Ufe Avere derived from the early example
and instructions of his father. At one period this
good man was so much in fear of persecution, that
he lay for a considerable time concealed in the hiUl
of a ship, somewhere off the Kentish coast. On the
death of Henry, however, he obtained a situation as
chaplain in the navy ; and it Avas about this time that
he bound Francis apprentice to the master of a small
bark that traded to France and Zealand. His
serrice was a hard one on ship-board, but it Avas not
Arithout the reward of its fidelity; for his master
dying unmarried, he left Francis Drake his ship as a
legacy, with all things belonging to the same. On
this event Johnson, with that moralizing spirit which
renders all his Avorks so beautiful and so instructive,
observes — " That rirtue is the surest foundation both
of reputation and fortune, and that the first step to
greatness is to be honest."
Let us imagine for a moment what must have been
the feelings of such a mind as Drake's, on finding
himself (hitherto a poor lad, toiling hard and earning
but his bare subsistence) at once master of that
little world, for such is a ship, which was by degrees
to become the means of advancing him in the neces
sary knoAvledge of the seas, in the patience of expe
rience, the constancy of courage, and in the advan
tages of industry, till he should compass the world
itself, as the first British navigator who had the

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 183
boldness to conceive and to execute such a plan.
Hitherto he had been in the best school — that of
obedience and faithful service to his master — to
learn to govern others; since we generaUy find in
life those persons Avho have submitted to poAver in
the onset of their career, are the safest with whom it
may be trusted in a riper age. For some time
Drake followed his old master's trade with diligence
and success ; but narrow seas and a large mind
could ill agree together ; for the first were not cal-
ciUated to admit the exercise of those great enter-
prizes his genius and his activity prompted him to
undertake. He sold, therefore, the bark in which
his infant fortunes had been cradled on the seas, and
fuU of those golden dreams vrith which projects of the
new world now filled all heads, the strongest as well
as the weakest, he prepared to venture his gains in
the trade of the Western Indies. It is not a Uttle
amusing to look back, in old Avriters, for the accounts
they brought horae of the new world ; where gold
and jewels were described to be alraost as plentiful
as in the Ai-abian tales, and where they seemed to
Ue as easy of access as if the adventurers carried
vrith them the wonderful lamp of Aladdin, to procure
such treasures by a wish, a word, and a turn of the
hand. Drake was related to Hawkins, whose family were
of very ancient standing in the county of Devon.
Captain John Hawkins had projected an enterprize
to the West Indies, and as the reputation of his
cousin Francis Avas noAV fully established as a good
seaman, he was not sorry to be joined by him in the
undertaking. It was a luckless one for both ; since
the gold and sUver they had in riew Avere protected

184 LIFE OF DRAKE. / [lET.
by something that to Drake was more formidable
than any danger Avould have been in an open and
obvious forra — Spanish treachery ; and soon did he
and his friend feel its effects. For notwithstanding
that England and Spain Avere then on terms of
peace, and that these adventurers had received per
mission from the viceroy to traffic in the Bay of
Mexico, they were so suddenly and treacherously
attacked by the Spaniards, that Hawkins lost several
ships and men, and Drake the whole of his property
Avhich had been embarked in the speculation. In a
moment of irritation, when all the fruits of his in
dustry (gathered in the little bark where his humble
fortunes had been so much more true to hira than his
greater expectations) were lost for ever he voAved to
wreak his vengeance on the Spaniards. He has been
charged by some, 'more particularly the envious of
his own time, with having kept this vow more rigidly
than justly ; but Fuller seems willing to clear Sir
Francis of this charge, and therefore puts the bur
then of the blame on another man's shoulders : for
he says, "that after Drake's goods were taken by
the Spaniards at St. John de Ulva, and he himself
scarcely escaped with life, to make him satisfaction,
Mr. Drake was persuaded by the minister of the
ship, that he might lawfully recover the value of the
King of Spain, by reprisal, and repair his losses
upon him any Avhere else : the case was clear in sea-
divinity ; and few are such infidels as not to believe
doctrines which make for their own profit : where
upon Drake, though then a poor private man, un
dertook to revenge himself upon so mighty a mo
narch." This early check in the fortunes of our townsman.

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 185
that Avould have broken the spfrits and ruined the
enterprize of an ordinary man, Avas with him, perhaps,
an advantage : since so strong are the resources of
strong minds, that it is not till roused by adversity
and the most formidable obstacles, they know their
own poAver, or put forth their utmost energies ; and
even if such minds bend for awhile, it is but like
the bending of the archer's bow, to acquire their
necessary impetus. Another cause also might have
operated to produce those extraordinary exertions
which enabled Drake so soon to rise again after these
disasters ; his mind Avas not of that order which can
rest in the present : men of his mould call up their
recollections ofthe past to aid their judgment in the
future ; and the remerabrance of raisfortune, there
fore, is Avith them less an evil than a monitor, by
Avhose assistance experience becomes Arisdom.
Intent on the plan of reprisals recommended to
him by " Sea-divinity," and having found hoAV ne
cessary it Avas to arm himself with caution as the best
mode to avoid the snares of treachery, Avith little
means and great patience, Drake made two or three
voyages, first in the Dragon, and afterwards in the
Swan, to render himself perfectly Avell acquainted
with the coast, and to gain all necessary intelligence
respecting the Spanish settlements : in these voy
ages of investigation, he fell in with sorae minor
Spanish \-essels, and having gained a prize or two,
it helped to repair his broken fortunes. He was
soon after in commission, and reached the rank of
captain ; now, therefore, he determined no longer to
delay the execution of that voav, by which he had
called heaven to Avitness that he would requite his
injuries on the King of Spain.

186 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
Pursuant to this plan, on Whitsun-eve, May 24th,
1572, Drake, in the Pascha of seventy tons, accom
panied by his brother John, in the Swan of twenty-
five tons, vrith no greater force than seventy-three
men and boys (including the crew of both vessels),
weighed anchor from Plymouth, then the most fre
quented harbour of England. The day Avas de
Ughtful ; and as Drake set forth Arith his little arma
ment, on so bold an enterprize, Avhilst the Avaves
gently bowed their proud crests before him, and with
yielding submission received the bark that was des
tined to perform such wonders on their turbulent
domain, Ave may fancy the exhiUrating hopes that
played, like the beams of that day's sun, around his
entei-prize, and gave to the brave heart which formed
it sorae assurance and presentiraent of his success.
The vessels steered their course for Norabre de
Dios, a town where vast quantities of wheat from
Panama were stored to await the opportunity of
being conveyed into Spain. On the 2nd of June,
they hove in sight of the high lands of Sancta
Martha, in America, and directed their course to
Port Pheasant, so named by Drake in a previous
voyage, from the vast number of birds of that de
scription he had observed near the coast. In this
spot, in every way convenient, he proposed to buUd
up the pinnaces he had ready on board his oaati ship
for that purpose. But whilst rowing towards the
bay, he observed a smoke arise from the woods, and
not knowing vrith Avhat number of his enemies he
might have to encounter, he caused a reinforcement
of men to join him from the ships. He landed, when
on advancing toAvards the AVOods, on a tree so large
that. Fuller says, " four men could not fathom (en-

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 187
compass) it," he saAv a plate of lead that had been
nailed aloft by his friend Captain Garret, of Ply
mouth, giving hira Avarning to depart those shores,
as the Spaniards had discovered that convenient
harbour, and his stay there would be dangerous.
The plate was dated only five days before it was thus
seen; and the smoke in the woods was found to
arise fi-om a large burning tree, no doubt set on fire
by Garret to draw the attention of his brother na-
rigator to the spot.
DrakeJ however, was not to be deterred fi-om his
purpose by the fear of such enemies, and so adopting
a plan of precaution, (Avhich De Foe, probably from
this cfrcumstance, afterwards made one of defence to
Robinson Crusoe's cave,) he caused his men to fell
certain trees groAring near the shore, Avhich (if a
very old book that I am noAV consulting respecting
the voyages of Drake speaks truth) were nothing
less than "forty yards about," and vrith these he
set up a wall that Avas as stout as his own heart, and
would stand battering like a feudal castle. Under
cover of this wall the captain and his men built up
the pinnaces ; nor did he wish, perhaps, for " more
men from England," though had he done so the
wish Avould not have been in vain ; for here he Avas
joined by his friend Captain RaAVse of the Isle of
Wight. The little fleet, Arith this new accession of
strength, now set sail towards Norabre de Dios;
and near the Isle of Pines they fell in Avith two
fi-igates, of Avhich they speedily made themselves
masters. From sorae negroes on board these ships
Drake gained intelligence of iraport ; namely, that
Nombre de Dios expected the arrival of some troops
to defend the toAvn from the attack of the Sey-

188 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
merons; a race of blacks who, driven by cruelty, had
escaped from their tyrannical Spanish masters, and
had formed themselves into a kingdom under two
monarchs of their own choosing and people. The
negroes, whose information Avas most important to
Drake, he set on shore, so that they might join their
countrymen, the Scymerons, and not have it in their
power, by going back to their old masters, to give
any intelligence of his being in the neighbourhood
of his eneraies.
Leaving three ships and the carrack Avith Captain
RaAvse, and selecting fifty-three of the best men,
armed with pikes, targets, fire-arms, the old English
bow, and the cloth-yard arrow, a weapon then not
out of fashion, and taking also a couple of drums,
with a trumpeter as herald, Drake departed on his
bold adventure, and in five days approached the
enemy's shore, where, having represented to his
men the greatness of the enterprize, the richness of
the spoil, and how much a determined courage would
enable them to possess it, he prepared to assault the
town at the dawn of the ensuing day. But as dan
gers are more formidable when dwelt upon in ex
pectation, and are best encountered by that activity
which alloAvs no leisure for their becoming magnified
by fear, Drake soon found how necessary it was to
subdue the panic fast spreading amongst his people
by at once leading them on to action, as their OAvn
scanty numbers, and the greatness of the hazard,
seemed to depress every heart.
In this juncture he had recourse to a simple arti
fice, in the hope to render his men Avilling to begin
the attack; for the moon shining that night with
uncommon lustre, he persuaded them it was dawn

XXVIII.J LIFE OF DRAKE. 189
more than an hour before the morning light could
appear. And soon had his people enough to en
gage their attention, and to draAv thera off" from
their fears : for a Spanish ship, lately arrived in the
bay, seeing the moA'ement of the English, sent a
boat to give notice of the circumstance to the go
vernor of the toAvn; and Drake, before he could
land his men, had to chase it to the opposite side
of the bay. He then disembarked without moles
tation ; but a gunner fled from his post on the
shore, gave the alarm, and speedily the rolling of
drums and the ringing of bells was heard arousing
the inhabitants of Nombre de Dios to arms.
The town was Avithout Avails ; and many of the
people, surprised by the sudden nature of the attack,
fled on the first shock, before their assailants, in
every direction. Some, however, attempted resist
ance, several were kUled, and a few taken prisoners.
Drake obliged one of these to guide him to the
governor's house, where the treasures of the mines
of Panama were deposited in heaps. On entering
this storehouse of riches, the first view seemed to
realize all the extravagant accounts that had been
brought home about the wealth of the New World ;
for the silver Avas piled in bars of immense Aveight
and bulk, so that each man who raight hope to take
his share, considered his fortune ready laid before
him, and needed but the stretching forth his hand
to make it his oavu. But every one of these soon
found Avealth indeed a burthen; and that dan
ger and death raust be defied before they could
convey it to the boats, and secure its possession.
Drake saw the hazard and the difficulty of encum
bering his people vrith booty that must retard or

190 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
frustrate their march. The pursuit of fortune,
hoAvever, is not easUy abandoned, even vvhen the
universal spoiler, death himself, stands ready to in
tercept it ; and the nuraber of those Spaniards Avho
were now fast gathering in order to raake a de
termined resistance rendered the case desjierate
unless the English acted more as soldiers than as
spoilers. At this crisis, it vvas not by the influence of reason
alone, but of hope, that Drake could induce his men
to abandon the El Dorado of the Governor's stores :
for he promised them greater things, wordd they
but foUoAV him ; he would lead them forward to the
king's treasure, where gold and jewels, instead of
silver, should become the guerdon of their labours.
They believed and foUowed him, as he guided them
to his brother, and stout John Oxenham (a fellow
townsman of the captain) Avhere they had already
drawn up Arith their detachment, in the market
place of the tOAvn. But Avhilst Drake (who was
now suff'ering from, and concealing a sharp Avound
he had received) displayed that courage and con
duct Avhich marked all his actions, the violent de
sfre his men had shown for riches was suddenly
succeeded by the frequent attendant of that pas
sion — fear. The apprehension that the Spaniards
would avail themselves of these moments to master
the pinnaces, and so cut off their retreat, struck
such a panic into their hearts, that they were now
as eager to secure the ships, as the sight of the
treasure had before rendered them careless about
their safety. Drake, however, learning from one
he had sent forward to inquire, that there was Uttle
cause for this alarm, persisted in leading on to the

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 191
king's treasure. In their march a most serious
disaster befell them; for the rain poured doAvn in
such torrents that it injured the strings of their
bows, and the matches of their guns. This mis
fortune produced delay ; and delay brought on a
rencAval of panic, so exaggerated in its character,
that they fancied, by this time, the Avhole country
must be up in arms, and ready to rush upon them.
Certain it is, fi-om these repeated instances of a
vrilful indulgence in imaginary fears, that however
brave Drake might be hiraself, he had raany cow
ardly folloAvers, who were as likely to ruin as to
support a bold atterapt. He saw this, and re
proached thera Avith their Avant of resolution to
accomplish their own desfres, Avhen he stood ready
to lead them on to honour and to fortune. The
feelings of some Avere stung by his reproaches, and
the avarice of others excited by the hopes he had
renewed ; so that all were once more ready to stand
the hazard of the hour.
After ordering Oxenham, his brother John, and
their people to seize the king's treasure, Drake led
the rest of the men to take their stand in the mar
ket, so as to oppose the scattered soldiers of the
garrison, Avho might othei-Avise become dangerous
if suffered to unite into one body. But loss of
blood from his AVOund overpowered the strong spirit
of the leader ; he fell to the earth as he Avas about
to advance ; and now was it first knoAvn to aU that,
whUst acting Avith such firmness and resolution,
Drake had suff'ered an effusion of blood so great
as actually to fill the raarks of his footsteps as he
moved. The sight of their beloved captain on the
point of death, for no one expected he could survive

192 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
that hour, recalled their better judgment ; and they
felt that the life of a brave man Avas of more value
than the treasures of Panama. All were eager to
bear him off in safety ; though Drake, restored to a
sense of suff'ering by the strong drink they had
given him^ Avas the only man Avho expressed a wish
that the enterprize might not be abandoned for his
sake. But, for once, their fears had taken a right
direction, and alarmed for their captain's preser
vation, not even his own entreaty could prevail Avith
thera to risk it. They tore the scarf he wore from
off his shoulders, bound up his Avounds, and Avith all
speed carried him back to the boats, and thence to
the ships, by the dawn of the next day.
They here made no caj)ture but that of taking
from the bay a vessel Avhose cargo Avas of wine;
and directing their course to a neighbouring island,
they reposed there a few days to recruit themselves
after their late disastrous exploit. During this in
terval, a Spanish gentleman Avas deputed by the
governor of Nombre de Dios to visit Drake, and
learn if he might be the same person who the year
before had landed on those shores ; if the arrows he
had used in the late assault Avere poisoned ; and, if
so, what must be done to cure the Spaniards of
their wounds? This envoy acquitted himself Avith
credit in his commission, and paid the captain many
compliments on the courage he had displayed to the
cost of the toAvn. Drake, though he guessed him
to be a spy, received his compliments Avith courtesy,
sent him aAvay with a gift of some value, and Avith
the assurance that he knoAv too well Avhat belonged
to the laws of cirilized nations to send poisoned
arrows from an English bow; but that he would

XXVIII.J LIFE OF DRAKE. 193
never desist in maldng "reprisals on the Idng of
Spain, by sharing with him some of that gold and
silver Avhich he got out of the earth in order to
trouble it."
Shortly after this, Drake and Captain Rawse
parted company ; the latter having formed so ill an
opinion of the expedition, that he desired no longer
to remain a participator in Avhat he anticipated
would be an eventual failure and disgrace. His
companion was too vrise to be thus easily disheart
ened : for though great success raay, by a con
currence of fortunate circurastances, attend the ad
venturous and laborious in the outset of their career,
yet success, generaUy speaking, is like a coy mis
tress Avho must long be Avooed, and that too through
many a repulse, ere she is won. Drake knew well
enough, before he saAV it confirmed in the conduct
of RaAvse, that with common minds it is success
alone that gains confidence and constitutes merit.
Few are above the prejudices of the many: with
them the question is, Avhat has a man gained ? not
what does he deserve ? — if reputation be his, it is
well ; and the Avay is opened to call forth and en
courage his most ardent endeavours; since repu
tation gives poAver as it expands, even as those
winds carry on the vessel, as they swell the sail,
Avith Avhich tliey only played before, and passed by
Avhilst the canvass hung useless on the mast.
Drake knew how much his reputation at home, as
well as abroad, depended on the success of this hardy
enterprize : he would be extolled for its very daring
if all Avent well, but censured as little short of mad
ness if he returned back with nothing but a shat
tered bark, and loss of time and means. He uoav,
VOL. II. K

194 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
therefore, held debate with his own spirit, that never
gave him other than bold counsel, and it impelled
him to proceed.
Haring learnt, from a black he received on board
at the Bay of Nombre de Dios, that the richest of
the Spanish settlements were at Carthagena, he
resolved to make what sail he could to attack that
place. On the 13th of August, the Pascha, the
SAvan, and the three pinnaces, anchored between the
islands of Charesha and St. Bernard. Drake, on
bringing the vessels into the harbour, observed at
the entrance a ship at anchor. In this he discovered,
to his surprise, but one old man, Avho freely gave
him all the information that Avas required, and told
him " that the ship's company Avere gone on shore
that evening to fight about a young lady, who
had occasioned a quarrel between some of them on
board." He also said, "that, about two hours be
fore, a pinnace had passed by with an appearance
of haste; and AvhUst so doing, warned the croAV
to look to themselves, for an enemy was at hand.
Drake having heard (before he received this intel
ligence of his being discovered) guns firing as sig
nals in the harbour, gave up his design of attacking
Carthagena ; since it raust be a hopeless enterprise
whilst the town stood in readiness to resist him;
so much had he calculated on that distraction
which a surprise was likely to spread amongst his
enemies, as necessary to his success. He Avas, how
ever, somewhat recompensed for his disappointment
by capturing a large Spanish ship and two smaller
vessels. Drake haring found that the pinnaces, from their
lightness and fast sailing, were more useful to him

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 195
in these seas than his brother's ship, and that he
had not hands enough to man both the larger
vessels, determined to accomplish by stratagem a
plan he had formed to free himself frora the incum
brance of the Swan, to whose destruction he felt
certain his brother never would consent, as, being
master of her, he had grown fond of the A'essel.
There was on board her a carpenter, named Thomas
Moon, to Avhom Drake confided not only his plan,
but the charge of its execution. This was nothing-
less than, in the night whilst all the crew Avere
asleep, that he should bore sorae holes in the well of
the Swan, sufficiently large to render her incapable of
saUing, however much, like the bird after which she
was caUed, she had hitherto floated on the waters.
Moon probably considered the captain who forraed
this plan was under the influence of that planet
whose narae the carpenter had himself the honour
to bear, since, expressing the utmost astonishment
at the proposal, he frankly told the projector he had
no mind to be hanged by his brother for sinking
his ship. But Drake, chief in command, gave him
his word that a rope should neither touch his neck
nor his back for doing this serrice, if it were dis
covered ; and if not, certainly there was no likeli
hood, however musical swans might be in their death-
note, that this would tell the tale of her end. On
the next moming Drake invited his brother to go
fishing with him ; and as they rowed off", he casually
asked what it was that raade the Swan Ue so deep in
the water. Inquiry followed ; when, to the conster
nation of her master, he found there was six feet
water in the hold. All hands were set to work at
the pumps ; but it was too late to find a remedy ;
k2

196 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
and Drake advised that the ship, when all the stores
had been laken out of her, should be burnt. This
advice, though reluctantly, was put in execution,
and the captain's project completely effected, for
his favorite pinnaces were uoav manned as he re
quired. Not long after this, Drake departed for the Rio
Grande, where he took in a supply of fresh Avater.
Here they moored close inshore ; and during the
night Avere surprised by one of those fearful hurri
canes coramon in such latitudes. So aAvful was the
thunder and lightning, that it astonished and even
filled Avith terror the minds of such of the crew as
had never before Avitnessed a storra in this part of
the world. Drake assured them it would soon pass;
and be succeeded by a dead calm. This happened ;
but the calm brought with it a swarm of flies and
mosquitoes that stung them even to torture, and
proved worse than the storm. Here, on the next
morning, they were descried by a Spaniard on the
opposite side the river, Avho, mistaking them for his
countrymen, waved his hat, and shook his long
hanging- sleeves, as a signal that they should ap
proach. They obeyed the summons, but no sooner
did they touch the shore than, finding his error, the
Spaniard ran away ; and leaving his plantations and
his stores at the mercy of the English, Drake pro
bably thought his vow of reprisals on the King of
Spain extended to the subjects of that monarch,
for he did not scruple to load his men with such a
sufficient reinforcement of wines and good cheer,
that they were obliged to buUd four magazines
here, to contain the spoils now taken, together with
those they removed from the ships, placing them at

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 197
such distances, that if one should be taken, the rest
would probably' remain undiscovered and secure.
During this interval his brother John had been
in search of the Scymerons, those independent ne
groes Avho had fied fi-om their Spanish masters, and
set up a kingdom for themselves. With these
Drake purposed to open a friendly communication,
as only by their assistance he now could expect to
accomplish the great object of his hopes. A place
therefore Avas appointed by his brother, after an ex
change of hostages, for the captain to hold this
meeting Avith the leaders of the blacks. And this
he found to be an island as beautiful as it Avas con
venient ; where, from the rocks that guarded the
river, it was impossible he could be surprised by an
attack during the night.
The acquisition pf Spanish gold and silver seems
to have been the great aim of Drake's reprisals on
the King of Spain ; since, learning from the negroes
that during the rainy season, noAV set in, there was
no hope they could draw up from the rivers the
treasures they had taken from the Spaniards and
had cast into them for concealment, he deterrained
to AA-ait the proper season for such fishing. But
though in all these expeditions treasure Avas the ob
ject, I cannot fancy that a mind like Drake's could
be influenced by the mere acquisition of metals,
however bright and rare. It was the enterprise,
the difficulty, the activity of spirit, the genius to
form and the boldness to execute schemes that a
less daring man Avould never have dreamt of, that
prompted his purpose. The interest was in the
danger of the pursuit more than in the profit to.be
gained by it : since, could Drake have possessed

198 LIFE OF DRAKE. [LET.
himself of the whole wealth of Panama by quietly
trading for it in the city of London, Spanish gold
woiUd probably have had as little attractions for him
as the patient and calculating commerce by Avhich it
must be gained in drudgery and peace. He was
something like the racers in the ancient games, who
would not have stooped to pluck a laurel fi-om the
finest tree that ever bloomed, but who would strive
for it to the death when woven as the croAvn of ric
tory. Another motive might also have influenced
Drake's eager pursuit of Avealth : he might have
found how absolutely necessary it was to acquire it
in order to secure such assistance as he needed in
carrying on his great and after-enterprises, which,
at this period, he could only meditate upon Avithout
having the present means to attempt.
To return to the subject. In the interval that
must pass before the cessation of the rainy season
Drake could not rest unemployed. After, therefore,
building a fortress of timber with the assistance of
the negroes, he determined to cruise the pinnaces
in those seas, and comraenced his plan by taking
a ship off Carthagena, but did not land on the coast.
A stratagem was now attempted by the Spaniards
to get him into their power; for one of his old
prisoners, to whom he had given liberty, artfully
came to him, as on a friendly errand, to offer hira a
supply of necessaries, in the hope that such fafr
promises might induce him to land at disadvantage.
Drake suspected the snare, and avoided it ; and not
long after the enemy sent out two frigates against
him, but these he compelled to Avithdraw; and,
having sunk one prize and burnt another before
their eyes, his prudence for once forsook him, as he

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 199
committed the extravagant act of leaping from the
boat and standing alone on the shore, in sight of
the Spanish troops ; yet such was the reputation of
his courage, the terror of his name, and the fear
of his pinnaces, that not one could be found bold
enough to venture to approach him Avith any hostUe
purpose. Such a single-handed exploit as this would
have been Avorthy Don Quixote, or any of those
heroes of the old romance Avhom he imitated ; but
Johnson, though he censures the imprudence of
Drake in this action, observes that possibly he might
consider it would not only contribute to heighten
him in the esteem of his oavu followers, but in the
opinion of the Spaniards, Avho were great admirers
of chivalry and romance, and Avho might yield the
more easily to a hero of whose fortitude they had so
high an idea.
Finding the country in arms against hira, Drake
resolved to leave the coast of Carthagena for Rio
de Heba, though so iU was he prepared for any new
enterprise, and so much did his men murmur at
their distresses, being reduced to a great scarcity of
necessary food, that it was only by the determined
spirit he evinced that he could induce them to be
lieve the repeated assurances he made that, would
they but follow him with willing hearts, he would
find a way, and speedily, to supply all their wants.
But they had not sailed far Avhen sickness, the con
sequence of such hardships, began to spread among
them, and the quarter-master, a very skilful seaman,
died in a few days.
In this state of distress Drake resolved to return
to the Scymerons, with whom he had left his brother
and his people, to attempt an inland and sudden

200 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
attack upon the enemy. But this Avas destined
to be the dark hour in the fortunes of Drake;
for on his arrival at Port Diego among his ne
gro friends, he learned that his brother, having
been driven by the importunity of his men, against
his own better judgment, to a rash attempt, met
his death whilst boarding a Spanish frigate, and
almost unarmed for defence. Not many days after
he had received this melancholy intelligence his
3'ounger brother Joseph died in his arms of that
malignant distemper which carried off so many of
the crew. This was a severe trial of the fortitude
of Drake, for so much did the sick at this raoment
stand in danger, that his sorrow was divided be
tween regret for the dead and alarm for the living;
and scarcely had he paid the last rites of fi-aternal
regard Avhen he Avas again called into action.
The Scymerons brought him word that the
Spanish fleet had arrived at Nombre de Dios to bear
off the treasures of Panama to the king. These
treasures must be transported overland to the ves
sels, and possibly might be intercepted and taken by
a vigorous attack. This, therefore, Avas the moment
in which Drake could most effectuaUy make repri
sals on the king. Glad, perhaps, of an opportunity
which, by the necessity of great exertions, AA'ould
rouse his mind from the gloom that cast so heavy a
cloud upon his spirit, he determined to lose no time
in executing his premeditated attempt. With all
actirity, therefore, did he prepare for the enterprise :
nor can we wonder at this, since, from the perpetual
variety of circumstances, escapes, and dangers, that
render sudden transitions of feeling as a second
nature in the character of seamen, they are of all

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE; 201
classes the least liable to indulge grief Avith inac
tion. Probably no sailor ever yet broke his heart
whilst on ship-board in the career of his duties.
At this juncture one of Drake's pinnaces, that had
been sent to Nombre de Dios to ascertain the fact
if the Spanish fleet might be arrived there or not,
captured a frigate of the enemy on their return to
the captain, and brought her, with all hands prison
ers, safe inshore. The sight of so many Spaniards
on board aroused in the iiegroes their old fury of
revenge, to Avhich the tyranny of their former mas
ters had, in the first instance, given birth ; and they
now begged Drake to give the prisoners up to
them, that they raight satisfy their vengeance in
the blood of these \-ictiras. Drake, who received
the proposal with the horror it deserved, now as
sumed that command over his allies which he
exercised at all times over his own people, and
would not suff'er a hair of the captives' heads to be
touched, ordering them to be placed in his own
pinnace for their security and protection.
Soon after he set out on his hazardous attempt,
taking Avith hira not more than twenty of his raen
(so many having been swept off by the fever), and
about twenty-eight of the blacks, armed with wea
pons for hunting and fowling as Avell as for battle;
In their march Drake conformed entirely to the
manner of living of the Scymerons — resting at night
in deep and sequestered valleys, where, not unlike
the Celtic nations, they set up circular huts, thatched
them with the branches of the palm-tree, and left a
hole at the conical top for a chimney, and a small
aperture by way of entrance. Some of these huts
Avere found ready to their hand, having been con-
k3

202 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
structed in previous marches up the country. The
more minute circurastances recorded of this journey
are fuU of interest, and deserve to be repeated, were
they not too numerous to find a place in an account
of Drake, which must of necessity be confined to
the narrow limits of a sketch.
I must not, however, pass in silence the mention
of one thing so much to the honour of our hero,
that in his wanderings through these difficult tracts,
in a land of hostility, he forgot not that Power which
went before his path, and was as a shield to him
against danger. The poor Scymerons had acquired
some imperfect knowledge of Christianity fi-om thefr
old Spanish raasters ; but their faith, like too many
Roman Catholic converts, rather consisted in an
observance of the superstitions than of the spirit of
their new religion. For though, as we have lately
seen, they scrupled not to beg the blood of their
captive enemies, they failed not to bow reverently
before the Cross ; a custom which Drake taught
them to abandon, and in its stead to repeat the
Lord's Prayer.
The greater part of their journey was indeed
delightful, for they travelled through thick woods,
and under shadowy palms that clothed the hills
and sheltered the valleys from the wind and the
sun, whilst they often stopped on the greensward
and reposed, as the gentle breeze played upon them;
by the side of sorae rivulet or stream that ran
trickling past the green turf, and served them as a
fountain to cool their thirst, or refresh their lunbs
after the labour of hunting their food in the Avoods.
At length they arrived on the summit of a lofty
eminence, Avhere there stood a tree of such enor-

XXVIU.] LIFE OF DRAKE, 203
mous groAvth, that it was held as a wonder by the
Scymerons, who pointed it out to Drake, and told
him from its top might plainly bo descried the
North and South Atlantic Ocean — in the latter no
EngUsh A'essel had yet spread her sails. In order
to ascend this tree of observation with greater
ease Drake caused a flight of steps to be cut in it,
and the day being remarkably clear he mounted to
its top.
Thence he vicAved with extreme deUght the mag
nificent scene which, from such a height, was spread
Uke a map before him. There lay the boundless
Atlantic, seen in its most opposite points ; that
ocean of Avhich fame had spoken vrith such golden
promise, and had rendered the theme of wonder as
well as of praise. The sight of this in a mind like
Drake's, Avhose desires were even yet more bound
less than those seas, for they compassed the vast
globe, produced the most powerful effect; and as
he looked on the interminable waters, seen in the
distance as if mingling themselves with the air and
with the clouds, he felt the kindling emotions of
his genius. And as the vast and the noble are
ever allied to genius, AvhatcA'er be the object of
pursuit, and (except in rainds wholly perverted) can
never be separated from sorae strong feeling of
the Divinity, his emotions raised his thoughts to
Him Avho had formed that august scene by which
he was surrounded ; and calling on God to grant
him but life once to saU an English ship in those
unknoAvn seas, he declared the utmost desire of his
soul would be accomplished. The prayer was heard
and granted ; for, God prospering him, Drake lived

204 LIFE OF DRAKE. [leT.
to become the British navigator Avho, in the lan
guage of our great poet,
" First bound a girdle round about the earth."
Soon after this the captain and his followers
arrived safe Avithin a short distance of Panama, the
toAvn whence the treasure Avas to be transported to
Nombre de Dios. Having gained intelligence by
one of the most acute amongst the Scymerons em
ployed for that purpose as a spy, that the treasurer
of Lima would on that very night set forward Arith
his mules burthened with gold and precious stones,
Drake immediately marched towards Venta Cruz.
Near this toAvn they surprised a Spanish soldier,
took him prisoner, and from him they received
Avhatever information they required at this juncture.
The captain now commanded his raen to observe
a strict silence, to lie down in the long grass, in two
separate bodies, one on either side the road, and
on no account to disturb the Recoes Avho were coming
from Venta Cruz, since such carried nothing but
common merchandize to Panama, and the latter Avas
the quarter Avhence came the expected spoUs. He
also commanded Oxenham to seize the foremost
Recoe, and the chief of the blacks to do the same by
the hindmost, as the mules of the Recoes travelled in
a string, the one haring a bridle of communication
with the other ; so that if the foremost received a
check, all stood stUl. The Spanish drovers, with
whose character Cervantes and Quevedo have ren
dered us so familiar, were at all times very fond of
their mules, and not only dressed them up AA'ith a
profusion of gay colours, but hung about their necks
a number of little bells, whose sound, which they

XXVIII,] LIFE OF DRAKE. 205
thought delighted the ears of the aniraals as much as
it did their own, gave notice of their approach in
the darkest night.
Drake's orders had been precise, and so simple
that it seemed impossible they could be circumvented :
yet though it had cost him so much time, labour,
and thought to bring his enterprize to bear, it cost
a drunken man but one act of folly to upset the
Avhole Avithout plan or purpose ; and so it is often
seen in huraan life, in things of less as well as greater
moment than Drake's reprisals on the King of Spain.
Days and years of toil are sometimes spent Avith no
other profit to the laborious than the secret and rae
lancholy consciousness that he deserved a better
roAvard than he found : Avhen perhaps he may at
length be on the eve of success, some cross turn of
fortune, some cunning enemy, or sorae foolish friend
may step in and raar all, leaving the luckless person
to a renoAved exercise of that patience Avhich often
outlives hope ; for patience, though a great virtue,
is not always friendly to exertion. However, Drake's
patience, hopes, and perseverance, like his three
favorite pinnaces, always held company together ;
and this night they Avere to be put to no small trial,
after all his pains.
The accident which noAV occurred had its origin
Avith one Robert Pike (a Tavistock raan, and con
sequently a fellow townsman Avith our captain), and
Avho, notvrithstandlng the foolish manner he acted
in this instance, afterwards rose, by fighting and
beating three Spaniards, Avho carae in united opposi
tion against hira, to the rank of Captain ; and by that
honourable style was for many a day reraembered in
the place that gave him bfrth. Pike, deprived of

206 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
all prudence by the quantity of brandy he had taken,
quitted his station, and prevailed with one of the
negroes to bear hira company, that they might dis
play their courage by being the first Avho should
sally forth and stop the mules without the assistance of
their felloAvs. This act of folly betrayed them to the
observation of a passenger, who speedily conveyed
his suspicions to the town : the treasure was held
back ; so that when Drake and his people came to
seize the mules, they found them laden vrith nothing
but prorisions, and learnt frora the Recoe they made
prisoner, that the whole force of the country Avas
likely to be upon them. In this situation there Avas
no choice but that of retreat, Avhich would show thefr
OAvn fears, or to force their Avay to Venta Cruz : as
the latter was the raost bold and hazardous scheme,
it suited best Arith the spirit of Drake ; it was there
fore adopted.
Within a short distance of the town they found
stationed, ready to receive them, a body of Spaniards,
assisted by a whole convent of monks, who were
determined on this occasion to act as the church
militant against the famous heretical Captain of
England. No sooner did he appear than they
called upon him to yield ; a call that was answered
by Drake with the discharge of his pistol ; and ira
mediately after he gave the signal for action. The
assault and defence Avere conducted, on either side,
with much Avarmth ; but the English arrows were
found irresistible ; the enemy was driven back, as
the Scymerons exulted over their defeat in shouts
and war-songs of victory.
The inhabitants of the town were throAvn into a
state of the utmost consternation ; to appease which

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 207
Drake, with a generosity like that Avhich animated
the Avarlike in times of ancient chivalry, not only
commanded his men to spare all who offered no re
sistance, and to respect the sanctity of the churches,
where no spoil was to be committed, but Avent him
self and quieted the fears of the principal ladies, by
an assurance that all of their sex he considered that
night as under his own especial protection. So
much did this union of courage and gentleness work
on the minds of the conquered, different as it was
fi-om the unsparing teraper of the Spanish con
querors, that they looked on Drake as soraething
more than human ; and a feeling of confidence
blended itself with that of awe, which his hardihood
and extraordinary success CA'ery where inspired.
Though Drake spared the lives and respected
the feeUngs of his enemies, he shoAved in this exploit
no raercy to their purses. The spoils, hoAvever, here
gained he dirided araongst his raen and the negroes,
refusing all share of thera hiraself, and still looking
to the treasures of the King of Spain for his own
reprisals of victory; a prospect which neither toU
nor disappointment could induce him to forego.
But the safety of his crew Avas now the first object ;
and he felt hoAv necessary it was that no delay
should take place in his return to the ships. Still
the march overland to the coast Avas long and weari
some ; and one that required all his energies to
render it other than a source of murmuring and
peril to his people. In this emergency he took the
wisest means to support their spirits, by shoAving in
his own person how easily hardships may be borne
where there is courage to meet and to endure them.
In moments where all depended on sudden and ex-

208 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
traordinary exertions, Ave have seen that Drake could
use even reproaches to stimulate their endeaA'Ours ;
but Avhere the operations that lead to success were of
a less exciting and more tedious nature, and required
patience to bring about their issue, Drake .used
kindness and encouragement in his exhortations,
shared all their toils, and even the pain of hunger
Avith them, vvhen Avant of food reduced them to ne
cessity and vA'eakness.
On their arrival Avithin a fcAV leagues of the ships,
they found on the banks of the river Tortugas one
of those towns consisting of huts thatched with the
branches of the palmetto, that had been built during
thefr absence by the Scymerons. Here the weary
reposed ; and Drake, anxious to afford them reUef,
sent forward his token by a negro to the master of
his own pinnace, vrith orders that he should sail her
up to him Avith all speed. The master received the
token — a gold tooth-pick case — with a doubtful
mind ; for the captain had charged hira to consider
none as authentic unless his own handwriting also
bore witness to its validity. The negro, hoAvever,
soon satisfied his doubts by telUng hira that the
English leader had scratched something on the
token with the blade of a knife ; and on more closely
examining it, he soon perceived the Avords, ' By me,
Francis Drake,' The pinnace was iraraediately sent
forAvard, and all the company finally uniting on the
23rd day of February, Drake halloAved it by appoint
ing it as a day of solemn thanksgiving to Almighty
God, Avho, after all their hardships, had thus brought
thera in safety together.
Soon after this Drake, being on board his pinnace,
the Minion, sailed to the Cabezas, in order to seize

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 209
the treasure that he had learnt fi-ora the Scymerons
Avas to be transported from Veragua to the Spanish
vessels at Nombre de Dios. At Cabezas he cap
tured a ship, and John Oxenham, in the Bear, also
took another, stored, not Avith gold, but with good
fat hens, hogs, and maize, or Indian corn. The last
prize so Avell pleased the captain, that he determined
to sail in her, and attack the Spanish fleet at Nombre
de Dios. He Avas soon after met by a Frenchman,
Avhose commander, named Tetu, begged he might be
permitted to join Drake both in the expedition and
the spoils that were Ukely to accrue from it. They
set sail in company together in the frigate and two
of the pinnaces, for the Cabezas, Avhere they left the
first-mentioned vessel, finding she was too large to
pass the shallows. Proceeding for Rio Francisco,
they landed, and ordered the pinnaces to return to
the same spot in four or five days to receive them.
Drake then set out on his inland expedition, accom
panied by a certain number of his men, his French
aUies, and the Scymerons. Their way Avas through
thick woods, and after a fatiguing journey, as they
arrived Avithin little more than a mile of Nombre
de Dios, they could hear persons at work in the
harbour ; the hour being no interruption to labour,
since indeed in those Avarm latitudes more Avork is
effected in the night than in the day.
They soon observed the mules and their drivers
advancing from Panama; and at that sight every
man thought of nothing but the riches he Avas now
to call his own : riches indeed, could his desires
have been as certainly satisfied as they Avere formed ;
for the drove consisted of more than one hundred
mules, each laden Avith three hundred pounds' Avcight

210 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
in bars of silver. The soldiers Avho guarded the
treasure were easily overcome; but Captain Tetu
was Avounded in the battle. Yet now the treasure
was won it could not be secured, for the rictorious
possessors of the prize Avere compelled, on account of
its weight, to conceal by far the greater part of it in
holes under the earth, or beneath shallow Avaters.
For the present they resolved to return by the Avay
they had come ; and once more retraced their steps
through the woods, where the French officer was
obliged to stay, finding himself disabled by his
wounds frora going onward. Here sorae of his men
remained with him, and one Avas lost or missing in
the Avoods.
Drake and his company travelled forward to meet
the pinnaces ; but on arriving at the appointed place
soon found cause for astonishment and dismay. No
pinnaces Avere to be seen, but in their stead seven
Spanish ships floating in the distance ! At the
sight of these not a doubt remained on their minds
but that the Spaniards had received sorae infor
mation of their plan on Nombre de Dios, and these
ships had been sent forth to intercept their return
Arith the treasure. The pinnaces they concluded had
been taken, and the torture used, to learn from the
crew where the frigate and the ship had been left,
in order that they might next surprise and capture
them. Thus did the foUoAvers of Drake, as they now
stood on a hostile shore from Avhich there was no
escape, look on the Spanish ships riding before thefr
riew, and gave themselves up for lost.
Never, in any the most trying moments of his life,
was the firmness, the presence of mind, or the hardy

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE, 211
enterprise of Drake more conspicuous than in this
scene of apparent hopeless disaster. By a train of
the clearest arguments (for he had that greatness
in his courage Avhich preserves the mind calm, and
free from all embarrassment in peril, so that reason
loses nothing of her power), he convinced them that
it was morally impossible the pinnaces could be
taken, the men tortured and examined, and the
Spanish ships sent forth to secure the English
frigate, in the short space of time that had inter
vened since they had parted on that very shore from
their shipmates; so that it Avas still possible they
might reach the vessel before their enemies could
become her master.
The men, for the moment, Avere silenced by these
arguments; j'et nothing but the resources of a mind
like Drake's could have instantaneously suggested
the means of attempting the very possibility he had
so strongly asserted. To a less fertUe genius, the
thing must have appeared hopeless under any view
in which it Avas considered — they could not travel
overland toAvards that part of the coast where the
frigate had been left, for barrier mountains and
impenetrable woods lay betAveen them and it. They
could not pass deep rivers or even venture on tur
bulent seas, for they had no boat; and to return
towards Nombre de Dios, AvhUst the country alarmed
woiUd be in arms against them, must lead to certain
death. Yet Drake, whilst his people saw nothing
but these erils and their OAvn despair, observed,
vrith a glance of the eye, the trees that were slowly
and idly floating down the river, borne along with
the current towards the shore ; and in these he saw
deUverance.

212 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
With a countenance enlivened by the most con
fident and cheerful expression, he asked " Who
would accompany him to sea, on the raft he was
about to form Avith those timbers?" Nothing is
more decisive in its eff'ect than the hope, how
ever slight, that suddenly visits despair. The
most animated feelings noAV succeeded to the list-
lessness of despondence, and all hands and hearts
Avere eager to help their gallant captain in the con
struction of his raft, that Avas to bear him and a foAV
of his most determined followers on this perilous
attempt. The raft was quickly formed; a rudder
contrived to steer it ; and, ingenious in expedients,
an old biscuit-sack was converted into a sail, fitted
to the light body of a small tree by Avay of mast.
Drake now chose three of his most expert and re
solute followers ; and giving those he left on the
shore the firmest assurance, that, if he surviA'ed, he
Avould return as their deliverer from peril, he prayed
God to calm the seas, so that his raft might ride in
safety, and straightway embarked himself and his
last hope on this precarious stay.
For six hours, such was the danger of their situ
ation, the sea continually Avashed oA'er them ; and
Avhilst in the hollow of tlie Avave, they were fre
quently up to the chest in Avater ; long they could
not have escaped death, which, on any sudden turn
of the Arind upsetting the raft, must have been in
evitable, had not Providence interfered to save
them. The strength of all means, employed in
extraordinary circumstances, depends not on man's
capacity Lut on the power of the Almighty. With
Him the wing of the raven became as strong and as
swift as that of the eagle, to do His behests in the

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 213
preservation of a prophet : OA'en so Avas the fragile
raft of Drake, by God's Avatchful providence, ren
dered as much a vessel of safety, as if it had been
formed from the oaks of England, shaped and fit
ted vrith the most consummate art, and armed with
the thunders of her artillery and the strength of her
bravest sons. The pinnaces — those very pinnaces
considered as lost to the enemy — appeared in sight ;
but forced by the wind, that noAV rose toAvards
night-fall, to a contrary course, they ran for shelter
behind a projecting point of land — there Drake ran
his raft ashore also, and praising God Avho had thus
conducted hira in safety through the stormy waters,
he rejoined his vessels, and soon after received his
whole company, with such part of the treasure as
they had been able to bear off, though it Avas incon
siderable when compared with what Avas left behind.
And noAV the generosity of Drake's character was
fuUy displayed ; for so little selfish were his views,
that he made an equal dirision of the spoil taken
from his enemies, between his own people and the
French allies; Monsieur Tetu having happily es
caped death, and regained his vessel. To Pedro,
the chief of the Scymerons, he gave, as a reward for
his faithful serrices, a SAVord set Avith diamonds, that
the negro greatly desired to possess, but feared to
ask on account of its exceeding value. Pedro, de
lighted Avith this act of munificence, which he de
clared would (by presenting it to his own king)
enable him to obtain the highest rank and honours,
insisted on presenting the captain with some bars
that he had secured in the late exploit ; but Drake,
though he at length yielded to his importunity,
refused to appropriate them to himself, but threw

214 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
them into the common stock, saying, "that where
aU had shared the danger, there likewise should
aU in justice share the benefit." Thus have Ave
the strongest evidence, that though many of the en
rious amongst the courtiers of his own time charged
Drake's enterprises with the guilt of piracy, a mean
spirit of avarice could not have been the motive
which prompted him to undertakings so replete Avith
toil and danger ; indeed, on all occasions, he Avas
more mindful of the interests of his followers than
of his OAvn.
Returning home, after so raany perils, he once
more landed on the shores of his native Devon, on
the 9th of August, 1573 : it Avas on a Sunday, and
though during the tirae of divine service, such was
the desire ofthe people of Plymouth to see the man
Avho had done so much honour to their county, that
most of them ran out of the churches to meet him
Arith the warmest congratulations on his way fi-om
the harbour.
Drake's return to England was never contem
plated by a mind so active as his as a final repose
from his toUs ; on the contrary, it Avas in order to
mature his plans, and to gather strength to execute
them, that he noAV sought the countenance of his
friends, that their interest at court might obtain for
him a full commission from the queen, so that he
might sail an English ship in those unknown seas,
whose distant view from the heights, to which he
had been conducted by the Scymerons, inspired
that prayer to the Almighty wherein he begged a
blessing to accomplish his designs. Many causes,
however, operated to retard his undertaking; for,
Uke Columbus, he found princes sceptical, and envy

XXVIII.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 215
rife. Such, indeed, Avas the fame he had already
acquired, that many Avere more disposed to pluck
away than to add to his laurels ; and those whose
natural dullness and coldness of feeling rendered
them dead to all the high hopes and vigorous imagi
nations of the brave and the great, had neither the
faculty nor the disposition to comprehend his de
signs, and treated them, therefore, vrith indifference
or ridicule.
So many obstacles might retard but could not
conquer the genius of Drake ; a genius that was far
beyond that sort of talent Avhich plays brilliantly on
the surface of things, Uke a sunbeam on the waters,
but has neither endurance nor vital heat in itself.
Drake knew well what Avere his own capabilities ; and
if the world gave him present credit for them or not
was to him a matter of indifference ; since no man
ever more eminently possessed that wisdom which is
content to work by patience ; to sow the seed in the
certainty that, sooner or later, the harvest will ap
pear, without standing to watch its growth, with an
fr-ritable spirit, if the blade is slow in rising or in
bursting into light.
Great must have been the obstacles he had to
contend with at home, since it was not till the faU
of the year 1577 that he once more quitted the
shores of England on that expedition which has
given him a fame that wiU live as long as the globe
he encircled shall itself endure. Though this enter
prise was undertaken with the queen's sanction, it
does not appear she took any share of the expense
of the outfit ; and here we find another instance of
Drake valuing his gold and silver only as it served

216 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
him to carry forward his great and immediate plans ;
for the ships, five in number, were equipped at his
cost, assisted by the other private adventurers who
joined in the design. These equipments were made
Avith an eye to the dignity of the nation which our
great naval captain Avas to represent in his own
person in far and distant lands. He took Arith him,
therefore, costly furniture, rich apparel, a princely
service of plate, and a band of the most skilful
musicians. The seas once more received him ; but as if he
Avere ncA'er to find rest on their bosom, so fearful Avas
the storra that presently arose, he Avas driven back
on shore with considerable damage. Yet tho seas
Drake treated as he did his envious adversaries,
for he Avas neither repulsed by their opposition nor
scared by thefr tumult, but ventured forth again
in the hope of better fortune ; and this he soon
found, for the winds became favourable, and his
voyage for some time was as prosperous as he could
desire. On the 27th of the same month they came
in sight ofthe Isle of Mogador, on the coast of Bar
bary, where, finding a convenient harbour for the
purpose, Drake, now admfral of the fleet, erected
one pinnace, out of several he had ready prepared
in the ships. Here they were observed by the Moors
who inhabited the country, and for some days a
fi-iendly intercourse was held between them and the
English, Avhich Avas at length, however, broken by
the infidels; for one of the crew, seeing the Moors
raaking signs, leapt on shore alone: he was in
stantly made prisoner, and carried up the country ;
when it appeared he had been seized, from some

XXVIn.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 217
apprehension that Drake Avas in command of cer
tain Portuguese A'essels, and had come thither to
observe the coast previous to an invasion. This
prisoner Avas afterwards released ; and the admiral
sufficiently satisfied hiraself in the visit he paid to
the coast, by taldng many Spanish vessels. They
next touched at Cape Blanc, where the inhabitants
came forward to trafl[ic for fresh Avater, being in
great need of it at that moment on account of the
dryness of the season. Drake generously relieved
their distresses, and would take nothing they offered
in return. They next proceeded to Mayo, one of
the Cape de Verd islands, where they found the
people so extremely shy of thera, that they ran
aAvay as the English approached, and would neither
traffic with, nor corae near them. But the country
abounding Avith figs, grapes, hens, &c., they failed
not to obtain plentiful supplies for the ships. Soon
after they passed St. Jago, an island in which the
Portuguese had gained a footing; and where they
had treated the natives with so much cruelty, that
many Avere driven into the most mountainous and
rocky parts to seek shelter from their oppressors.
Quitting these islands, the fleet droAv near the
line, Avhere calms and tempests for some tirae re
tarded their progress. Soon after they neared the
coast of the Brazils. The inhabitants, obserring
the ships from the shore, comraenced their accus
tomed raagical rites, for the purpose of raising
such a storm as would prevent their landing, and
sink them into the depths of the sea. The bar
barians made great fires, and offered sacrifices to
the spirit of the tempest; who, on this occasion,
VOL. II. L

218 LIFE OF DRAKE. [LET.
did not accept them, for the Arinds slept, and the
seas continued unruffled, so that no mischief ensued.
On the 7th of April, however, Arithout any invo
cation, the lightning, thunder and rain, caused so
fearful a storm, that for some time Drake appre
hended he had lost in it the ship called the Chris
topher;, but on the llth she joined the fleet again,
and the place where the reunion of the vessels was
effected he named Cape Joy, in remembrance of
that deliverance. To trace the various islands and
lands on which the Admiral touched during this
adventurous voyage, with some account, however
brief, of the inhabitants and natural productions of
each, would, instead of a slight notice, require a
lengthened chapter. And as the whole of this part
of , his history may be found so fully detailed in the
voyages of the time, it would be presumptuous to
venture upon the subject after them.
At length Drake entered the river Plate; but
there so violent was the tempest which assaUed him,
that the destruction, of the whole fleet seemed in
evitable. In this extremity, anxious to preserve the
life of the Admiral, Captain Thomas, of the EUza
beth, whose vessel was the lightest, prevailed with
him to go on board that ship, and running her into
the bay dropped anchor, and here she reraained tiU
after the storm. Not finding the harbour so con
venient as they expected, on the 15th of May they
left it for another, and, Drake sent Captain Winter
southward, to look after those ships still missing,
and saUed hiraself northward ; when meeting fortu
nately with one vessel, he bore it company to the
rest of the fleet; but no other could be found.

XXVIII.] LIFE OP DRAKE. 219
And here, for the present, we must leave him,
since this letter having extended beyond the usual
limits, obUges me to conclude, though somewhat
abruptly, with the assurance that
I am, my dear Sir,
Ever most respectfully
and faithfuUy yours,
Anna E. Bray.

1.2

220

LETTER XXIX.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.
Contents. — Drake and his followers on shore at an island near the
main land— Descried by the natives — ^They traffic — Honours paid
to Drake by the savages — Token of friendship given by one of them
 Drake sets sail towards the South Seas — Goes in search of ves
sels that are missing ; finds them — Sails for Port Julian — Indians
seera disposed to be friendly — Sportive competition with Oliver the
gunner — Fatal consequences and aflfray — Drake awes the natives
by the discharge of a gun — Transaction with Thomas Doughtie ;
slightly wounded — Drake continues his course along the shores
of Peru — Goes to Mucho — Quarrels with inhabitants; general
assault ; Drake receives a wound from an arrow in the eye — Drops
anchor in Philipps' Bay — Receives a friendly Indian, who offers to
become guide — Captures a Spanish vessel laden with wines — Fla
grant instance of Spanish brutality — Enters the harbour of Cippo
— ^The Spaniards rush out upon the crew ; they retire, save one, to
the boats — Act of cruelty — The Admiral touches at Tarapaca ;
finds a Spaniard sleeping ; takes from him a burthen of silver —
Sail thence — Arrival at Lima — Steer into the harbour — No resist
ance — Name of Drake formidable — His successes — Drake resolves
on the discovery of a passage from the South Sea to the Atlantic —
Steers to the isle of Caines to repair the ship — Good fortune — Se
vere sufferings from change of climate — Drake encourages his men
— One of the barbarians ventures in his canoe near the ship —
Pronounces an oration — The crew land — The natives consider
Drake and his followers to be more than human ; would sacrifice
to thera as gods — Drake endeavours to prevent them — He prays
and sings hymns with his crew — Powerful impression made by
them on the natives — The English stand prepared in case of trea
chery — High honours paid by the chieftains to the Admiral ; place
on him the insignia of Hiebob — Friendly feelings of the natives
and English — The Admiral at length leaves their shores — Steers
for the Moluccas — Touches at Terranata, where he is received by
the King, styled by Fuller " a true pagan gentleman " — Account
of the King, his counsellors, and courtiers — Visit of the Chinese

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 221
nobleman — His history — Inquiries concerning the adventures of
Drake ; he relates thera — The Admiral bent on a homeward voyage
— Sails to the Celebes — January 9th, 1580, Drake and his crew in
their greatest danger ; they run on a rock — Drake causes his crew
to receive the sacrament aud prepare for death — Providential es
cape when at their utmost peril — Near the Cape of Good Hope^
Return to England — Elizabeth dines on board his ship the Peli
can ; she knights him — Jealousy of Sir Bernard Drake — Quarrel
with Sir Francis about his arms — The courtiers jealous of Drake
— The Queen appoints Drake, Forbisher, and Hawkins in com
mand — Drake takes the towns of St. Jago, St. Domingo, Cartha
gena, and St. Augustine, in Florida, from the Spaniards — Sends a
flag of truce to St. Domingo by a negro boy — The boy murdered—
Drake requires justice of his murderer ; at length obtains it— -
1588, Spanish Armada — Drake's last voyage, 1595 — Sails to the
AVest Indies — Hawkins dies — Drake's friend, Brute Browne, killed
by the Spaniards — ^The Admiral swears to avenge his death — Ful
fils his purposes — Captures and burns two Spanish ships — Storms
and burns Norabre de Dios — Dies at sea January 9th, 1597 — Bu
ried iu the ocean— His character and genius.

Vicarage, Tavistock, November lith, 1832.
My DEAR Sir,
Soon after the events lately mentioned,
Drake and his followers, Avhilst going on shore at
an island near the main land, Avere descried by the
barbarians of the country, who made signs to them
as if they Avere disposed for friendly traffic. On
seeing this, the Admiral sent forward a boat Avith
many toys and knives as presents, in the hope to
concUiate them. Two of them advanced for a short
space, but would not venture near the English,
who, in consequence of this shyness, were obliged to
suspend their gifts to a long pole which they fixed
in the earth, and immediately after retired. The.
savages soon availed themselves of such bounty^
and, on their part, left on the pole a plume of

222 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
feathers and a carved bone, as gifts of honour from
their king.
Drake, pleased to find them thus amicably dis
posed, ventured to draw nigh, upon which the
natives drew up in a Une on a hill, and bowing to
those quarters of the heavens whence arose the sun
and moon, they thus let the strangers know they
¦were received in peace. The accounts given, in the
voyages of Drake, of the customs of these Indians,
are replete with interest, but too numerous to be
here stated in detaU. They practised a more noble
kind of idolatry than that of worshipping blocks of
wood or stone, as they believed, fi-om the splendour
of their aspect, that the planets were gods that had
power to oven-ule the destinies of men. Haring
no canoes, they could never quit their islands to
reach so far as the main land, Avhich, in this part
at least, was uninhabited by man; for, on Drake
saiUng thither, the birds (unaccustomed to the
sight of human beings, and never haring known
thefr snares) did not fly from but came to him, even
as the feathered race had done to Adam in Para
dise. The poor Indians of the islands he found as
docile as the birds, and almost as simple in thefr
habits : they principally lived on the raw flesh of
the seal, not using fire in the preparation of their
food. Their notions of friendship and affection
were of the strongest kind, and this Drake expe
rienced when on giring a cap to one of the natives,
he Avas so transported Avith the generosity of the Ad
miral that, to express his sense of the favour, he
thrust his arroAv into his oavu leg, and let the blood
run on the earth in token of fidelity.
At length Drake set saU towards the South Sea,

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 223
and soon after dropped anchor in a convenient bay
in order to break up the Christopher. He now
also became anxious to determine in what manner
it would be most desirable to act respecting the
Portuguese prize, Avhich he had lost sight of in the
great storm, as he could not endure the idea of
proceeding and leaAing his fellow voyagers, who
were in her, exposed to so many dangers alone.
After off'ering up prayers to Almighty God, that
he Avould send a blessing on his endeavour, he set
sail in search of the vessel, and on the very next
day had the happiness to meet Arith his companions
near Port Julian. Drake, in order to refresh his
associates, steered into this port, and Avent on shore
with some of them to seek fresh water. There was
he addressed by tAvo of the people, a race sufficiently
formidable in manners and appearance, and of a
character alike treacherous and cruel.
The Indians Avho had accosted Drake seeraed
disposed to be fi-iendly with him, and even entered
into a sportive competition AA'ith OUver the gunner,
in shooting their arroAvs, though theirs did not reach
so far as the shafts sent from an English bow.
Whilst they Avere thus amusing themselves another
Indian joined them, who seemed less pleased with
the strangers than Avere his companions, to whom he
addressed his discourse Arith much vehemence, in
his OAvn tongue. One of Drake's men at this mo
ment attempting to give the angry native a speci
men of his skill with the bow, unfortunately broke
his bow-string. The Indians immediately fancied
he must be disarmed by the accident, and, artfully
watching the retreat of the strangers to their boat,
discharged their arroAvs upon them, and wounded

224 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET,
the man who had broken the string. He endea
voured to refit the bow Avith another, but received
a second wound in the breast. The gunner Oliver
instantly presented his matchlock, but it failed to
give fire, and the natives, encouraged by these
disasters on the part of the English, discharged
upon them a second flight, killed poor Oliver,
Avounded many, and had not Drake acted Avith his
accustomed calmness and intrepidity, it is probable
every man Avould have been cut off. But he di
rected them to cover their bodies in their retreat
Avith the targets they carried for defence ; to shift
perpetually their position so as to avoid the arrows,
and to stop, pick up, and destroy them as they fell.
Drake also seized the gun, which had so unfortu
nately hung fire in the hands of Oliver, and aiming
at the treacherous Indian Avho had been his death,
Avounded that savage mortally on the spot. This
circumstance effectually changed the fortune of the
combat ; for the barbarians, whose numbers had
been fearfully increasing, retreated in terror and
amazement to their Avoods, Avhilst Drake Avithdrew
his men from the scene of action. In a few days,
howcA'er, he had to perform the melancholy duty of
attending the burial of his friend Winter, and some
of his people Avho died of their Avounds. He re
mained in this part of the Avorld, Avithout receiving
further molestation, nearly two months longer, the
natives having been literally awed into submission
by the discharge of a gun.
I pass in silence the remarkable transaction con
cerning Thoraas Doughtie, Avhich took place on
board Drake's ship in this obscure quarter of the
globe. My reason for doing so is, that I find it

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 225
impossible to give it so as to make it intelligible
in any abridged account, replete as the whole trans
action is with mystery and the most contradictory
circumstances. In its present state it is so en
veloped in obscurity that it defied even the critical
examination of Johnson, Avho declares " it is difficult
to form any judgment upon it." But thus much
surely may be said vA'ith perfect impartiality, that
Avhere there is such a Avant of clear intelligence, Ave
are entitled, in a great measure, to rest our opinion
on the general character of Drake, his known sense-
of religious duty, and his humanity to his people. Is
it therefore likely that a commander governed by
principles such as these would have executed Tho
mas Doughtie (whatever might have been his
crimes), had they been of a nature to adrait his
showing raercy ? Possibly, also, in such an obscure
part of the globe, Avhere the lives of all depended on
discipline and obedience, it might really have been
more merciful to the many to punish one, for the
sake of example, than by an ill-timed lenity to spare
him, and thus remove the salutary fear of the worst
consequences, should any attempt to mutiny be
meditated in the ships.
After a variety of perilous adventures amongst
the savages, on Avhose shores he occasionally landed^
Drake at length entered the South Sea, that vast
expanse of ocean on which no vessel bearing the-
British flag had hitherto sailed; an achievement
reserved for him, the happy success of which had
been the great object of his ambition. But he was
again destined to suffer another and severe trial;
for so fearful a tempest arose that the destruction of
the whole fleet appeared inevitable. During the
L 3

226 LIFE OF DRAKE. [LET.
space of fifty-two days the ships were incessantly
driven and tossed (Arithout the power to spread a
sail) from one quarter of the ocean to another, not
knowing in which they should at last find a watery
grave. Here they lost company with the EUzabeth,
and that vessel did not afterwards rejoin them,
though fortunately escaping Avreck she found her
way in safety to England.
For some time after the riolence of the tempest
had abated, Drake steered his ship frora island to
island in search of fi-esh water ; tUl on the 30th of
of October he steered for the rendezvous of his fleet.
Thence, laden with a store of prorisions, he continued
his com-se along the shores of Peru ; but not finding
his vessels as he expected, nor any harbourage that
proraised safety, he made no stay until he reached
Mucho, an island thronged by such of the Indians
as, haring suffered every kind of cruelty under the
Spanish yoke, had fled thither from the continent
for refuge. The savages appearing Arilling to enter
tain the strangers in friendly traffic, on the next day
they ventured on shore for water; but they soon
found how little sincerity there had been in thefr
apparent cordiality; for tAvo of the seamen going
forAvard Avith the water vessels were immediately
put to death. This was the signal for a general
assault, and some hundreds of the barbarians, having
crouched behind the surrounding rocks in order
to conceal their purpose, in a raoment started up,
discharged their arrows on the crew that had not
yet quitted the boat, and wounded every man on
board. The sea ran in such tumultuous waves, that to
return to the ship was almost as hazardous as it

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 227
would have been to land on the shore. Drake re
ceived a wound frora one ofthe arrows which pierced
nearly to the brain, and another struck him under
the eye. But notwithstanding- the danger and the
absence of the surgeon, Avho was in one of the parted
ships, by the mercy of Providence his life and the
Uves of his wounded followers were preserved ; a cir
cumstance little less than miraculous, and evidently
showing that when those ordinary raeans by Avhich
men are both permitted and enjoined to heal the
injuries of the body fail, the arm of God is not short
ened, and that he can extend it towards his afflicted
creatures in the most marked and raerciful manner.
Shortly after Drake dropped anchor in Philipps'
Bay, where, receiving an Indian on board, of a better
nature than those of Mucho, he so far won upon him
by his kindness, that the stranger offered to become
his pilot to a spot where aU his wants should be
supplied. Here he succeeded also in the capture of
a Spanish vessel richly laden vrith Arines, stores,
jewels, and gold. The Indian pilot was rewarded
and returned safe to his people, having, during the
time he was with Drake, exhibited that mild and
docile temper, so natural to his race before the
Spaniards hardened their hearts and roused their
passions by the cruelty and treachery with which
they treated them in order to make them discover to
their conquerors those mines of gold where they
were destined to labour like slaves.
A flagrant instance of Spanish brutality that oc
curred shortly after, acted poAverfuUy on the mind
of Drake, and made him feel, if possible, a yet more
determined enmity against the whole nation. About
the end of Deceraber, he entered the harbour of

228 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
Cippo, where these men held possession of the toAvn,
and of many Indians who were no better than cap
tives in their service. Observing the English land
on the coast they rushed out in an overwhelraing
body, accorapanied by their naked slaves, each of
the latter arraed with arrows formed of green wood ;
since such Avas their dread of the Indian captives,
that they allowed them no Aveapons but what should
be cut for some immediate scrA'ice ; disarming
and maltreating thera Avhen the labours of the day
were at an end. Finding opposition against such
nurabers would be madness, Drake and his men,
saving one, retired hastily to the boats ; Avhen that
unfortunate raan left behind Avas seized on the spot
and shot by the Spaniards, who, hurrying Avith his
body to a rock, Avhence the savage exultation of their
victory might be seen, thej' cut off his head and
hands, and tore out his heart in the face of his coun
trymen, first insisting that the Indians should dis
charge their arrows over the body, and thus disarm
themselves. The next place at which the Admiral touched Avas
Tarrapaca ; where, finding a Spaniard asleep, Avith
many bars of silver, Aveighing about four thousand
dollars, by his side, they relieved him of his burthen
Arithout interrupting his repose, and left him to
wonder, Avhen he should awake, by whom he had been
deprived of a care that raore often breaks the slumber
of the possessor than contributes to its security.
Another Spaniard they met in their Avay was era
ployed in driving certain Peruvian sheep, animals
there used as beasts of burthen, laden vrith bars of
silver. These they also relieved of their load, taking
all the spoil with more than ordinary pleasure, as it

XXIX.] life OF DRAKE. 229
Avas considered a lawful reprisal for the Spanish cruel
ties they had so lately Avitnessed. The treasure was
conveyed in safety to the ship.
Sailing thence they came to Lima, where, groAvn
confident and even daring by success, they steered
directly into the harbour, and to their astonishraent
met vrith no offer of resistance. But the narae of
Drake Avas become as appalling as his own can
non ; and the Spaniards, cruel to a feeble enemy,
Avere dastardly before a brave one ; so that they now
actually suffered the Admiral to take possession of
one of their ships richly laden Avith gold, without the
slightest attempt at defence ; and had he been as
evil rainded as themselves, they would, with equal
submission, have suffered hira to burn it. A second
great prize Avas the Caca Fuego, where they took
gold, jewels, and fourteen chests of ryals of plate,
and such treasure that it was the work of some days
to transfer it to the EngUsh ship. Content, even
satiated Avith spoil, and despairing of finding the
vessels from which they had parted corapany in the
great storm, Drake now began to turn his thoughts
homOAvard; but ere he sailed thither, he Avished
to accomplish an object which would be of incalcu
lable benefit to his country — the discovery of a
passage from the South Sea to the Atlantic. To-
prepare for this enterprise, it became necessary that
the ship should undergo some repair, and receive a
fresh supply of water. The Admiral steered accord
ingly to a convenient bay in the island of Caines,
and as good fortune at this time seeraed to raeet hira
at every turn, here also they fell in with and cap
tured a vessel laden with rich silks and stuffs.
But an uninterrupted continuance of prosperity is

230 life OF DRAKE. [lET.
seldom the lot of pubUc or of private men; and
Drake and his crcAv were soon to feel a reverse which*
was indeed calculated to give them a practical lesson
of how Uttle worth are riches in the extremity of
human distress ; that some power, greater than that
of fortune, is alone worthy the trust of a Arise man,
and should, therefore, be alone the object of his
hopes. The first suffering they had to endure Avas
a change of climate ; for, haring sailed about four
teen hundred leagues, they found the cold so intense
that the ropes of the ship became frozen, and it re
qufred six men to perform the duties usually accom
pUsbed by half the number. As they advanced, the
vital heat of the sun seemed entirely to forsake
them, and their hearts became cold and cheerless as
their Umbs. A melancholy discouragement seized
on all the crew, and in this torpid state they Avere in
danger of sinking before the perils that beset them,
vrithout a struggle to overcome such accumulated
difficulties. But nothing could move the spirit of Drake to
give way before circumstances, however adverse thefr
nature; and blending the kindness of his generous
disposition Arith the authority of his station, he re
minded his people, in the most impressive manner,
of the never-faUing proridenoe of God ; and with a
cheerful voice and countenance encouraged them to
labour so that they might deserve the assistance of
a power without whose aid their labours would be
vain. Onward they sailed, till at length they found
a convenient harbour, and dropped anchor on the
17th of June, on an unknoAvm shore. Nothing could
be more cheerless than the prospect before them.
The land was barren, the trees leafless, and the

XXIX.] life of drake. 231
natives a set of savages, who seemed to look on them
with wonder and fear.
One of these barbarians ventured in his canoe
near the ship, and haring pronounced Avith solemn
gestures an oration in his oavu tongue, which, of
course, could not be understood, he presented the
English Arith a croAvn of black feathers, and a basket
made of rushes filled Arith herbs. It was here abso
lutely necessary that the crew should land in order
to stop a leak which the ship had sprung at sea.
Experience had taught Drake not to depend on the
peace-offerings of savages ; he caused, therefore, in
the first instance, a fortification of stones to be raised
on the shore; Arithin this he pitched the tents to
accommodate his people. The work thus speedily
accomplished, to a nation so wUd and ignorant as
the poor savages in the comraon arts of Ufe, seemed
Uttle less than miraculous ; and they now came down
in crowds to worship the Admfral and his men, as if
they had been gods. Drake, however, had too deep
a sense of what was due to God to countenance this
error ; probably also he might remember the conduct
of Paul and Barnabas, who, when the Greeks would
have sacrificed to them as Jupiter and Mercurius,
rent thefr clothes, and ran in araong the people,
crying " we are also men of Uke passions vrith you."
Drake made them comprehend by signs and gestures
that he would not receive thefr worship ; and causing
them to throw aside their bows and arrows, gave
them Unen and necessaries, shovring in what way
these things would become useful.
The savages, hoAvever, could not so easily be pre
vailed Arith to consider the wonderful strangers as
men of earthly mould like themselves. GratefiiUy

232 LIFE OF drake. [let.
receiving the presents of the Admiral, they retired
to some distance from the tents, where they set up
their voices in loud and doleful shoutings; whilst
the women, with frantic gestures, commenced those
fearful rites so common Avith the ancient idolatrous
nations : tearing their bodies and their cheeks tiU
the blood ran down them, or dashing themselves
against rocks aud stones in homage to the gods
before their eyes, for gods they would persist in
thinking the English must be, Avho had honoured
their shores by coming down fi-om the clouds to set
their feet upon them.
Drake, shocked at such inhumanities, Avhich he
had no poAver AvhoUy to prevent, coraraanded his own
men to kneel down on the spot ; there with eyes and
hands upraised, he caused them to pray aloud to
the true God, in the hojje that these poor savages
might be convinced, by the humility of the action,
that there was a Power to bo worshipped high above
the heavens, and that they should not, therefore,
boAV doAvn to creatures Avho moved but on the earth.
After this, Drake opened his bible*, read some
chapters aloud to the crew, and closing the book
desired them to join with him in singing a psahn.
This scene, touching in itself, greatly charmed the
savages ; and inspired the whole crew Avith feelings
of the deepest reverence. Nor can we uoav reflect
upon it without sharing their delight. The hardy
seamen, Avho had spirits so bold to meet danger,
to combat their enemies Arith undaunted courage,
whom neither perils by land nor sea could raove,
thus humbly acknowledging their entire dependence
* Drake's hible is still carefully preserved at Buckland Abbey, a
place about seven miles from Tavistock,

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 233
on God, and singing His praises with the voice that
had so often mingled its rough sounds with those of
the gale, Avas a spectacle calculated to affect all Avho
were present, and no doubt Avith a merciful God the
sacrifice of prayer and thanksgiving so heartily of
fered, Avas not made in vain.
Drake and his men having produced this poAverful
impression on the natives, soon experienced its
eff'ect. In a fcAV days, the king of the country an
nounced his intention of coming to visit the Admiral.
The English stood prepared in case of treachery;
but soon found they had nothing to fear. A servant
of state came before the royal savage, bearing his
black AVOoden sceptre, decorated AA'ith a chain of
bone, and two crowns of black feathers with a
bundle of herbs like those solemnly presented to the
Admiral. The king hiraself next appeared, attired
in a rabbit-skin jacket, Avith a cap on his head, Avoven
with the feathers of various birds, and decorated
Avith ornaments carved in bone. His attendants
brought in baskets, so beautifully and closely Avoven
that they would contain Avater, fish and herbs ; these
being nothing less than sacred offerings for the
strangers. The sceptre-bearer made a speech Avhich
nobody could understand ; and even as it is in many
instances of speech-making in our OAvn days, it was
deemed not less excellent on that account. The
speech concluded, the orator, king, and all the re
tinue of royalty, commenced dancing and singing
with solemn deUght ; so that it was quite evident to
the Euglish, who understood action much better
than words, that nothing but honours and kindness
Avere intended towards them and their commander.
These high ceremonies finished Avith the coronation

234 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
of the Admfr-al, Avho, with the consent of the legiti
mate king and of all his people, Avas declared, Arith
the honours of feathers, bone chains, rabbit-skin
jacket, and all other insignia of royalty, to he Hiebob
of the nation, in one universal shout. Drake, how-
CA'er, did not choose to consider himself a king
abroad, whUst he had a queen at home; and so
receiring the wooden sceptre of Hiebob in the name
of Elizabeth, he took nothing from her new domain
but a stock of such prorisions as he could get ; and
expressed his hopes, in return for the generosity vrith
which these were supplied, that so harmless and con
fiding a people might indeed hereafter feel the
blessing of becoming the subjects of Elizabeth, by
being made members of the true church.
The utmost good avUI and regard subsisted be
tween the English and the natives, though it Avas
vrith extreme difficulty the former could prevail Arith
them to desist fi-om thefr barbarous custom of tear
ing their flesh in token of reverence and duty. Drake
now ventured to inspect the interior of the country,
in company Arith the king ; and, to his surprise,
found it to be far better than he had even imagined
it possible to be. It was very fruitful, abounding
vrith deer and rabbits of so extraordinary a kind that
their furs might very well be considered as a dress
fit for the majesty of the land. It Avas with extreme
regret that these friendly natives parted from thefr
neAV masters, whose kindness and gentle rule had
inspired them Avith a warmth of attachment seldom
equalled in cirilized countries, and stUl more rare in
those where civiUzation is unknown.
The Admiral at length steered his course for the
Moluccas, and in sixty-seven days came Arithin sight

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 235
of land. On the 30th of Septeraber, he neared sorae
islands, where he soon met Arith a very different
reception fi-om that he had so lately experienced.
Not liking the natives, he did not tarry longer than
necessity required; but continuing his course, on
the third of November he touched at Terrenata,
Avhere he Avas received by the king, whom Fuller calls
"a true pagan gentleman." This king appeared
dressed in state ; he was of a noble person, of a mild,
commanding countenance, and spoke with gentleness
to all around him. He was attended by a number of
old men with flowing beards, attfred in white dresses ;
these acted as his counsellors, and had that vene
rable and grave appearance which inspires a feeUng
of reverence due alike to wisdom and to years.
This "true pagan gentleman" welcomed Drake
vrith every mark of honour ; and as a proof of the
good opinion he entertained concerning him, he told
the Admiral that, " they were both of one reUgion,
since neither of them worshipped stocks or stones as
did the Portuguese." Drake was prevailed with to
visit him in his castle, where he found three score old
men, Avho attended upon the king as his regular
council of state ; one of these performed the part of
interpreter, a necessary office in a place where much
of the accumulated wealth of the sovereign depended
on his commerce vrith foreigners. Here Drake ob*
served everything was magnificent ; cloth of gold,
jewels, and riches, dazzled his eyes at every turn;
and the very fan which the chief slave held in his
hand appeared set with diamonds and sapphfres.
The castle had been erected by the Portuguese
whUst they were masters of the town, though they
did not long hold it in possession ; for so great had

236 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
been their tyranny, that the natives rose and drove
them out. At the court of this prince the Admiral
met Avith an adventure too remarkable to be passed
in sUence. It was a visit from a Chinese nobleman,
Avho having seen him with the king, came on board
his vessel shortly after attended by an interpreter.
The Chinese, before making known the object of his
visit, begged to inform Drake of the circumstances
of his history Avhich had occasioned his quitting the
" Celestial Empire" to Avander forth in so remote a
quarter of the earth. He was a native of China ;
had been accused of a capital offence, of which he
knoAV himself to be innocent ; but not having suf
ficient proof of his innocence to satisfy the jealous
court of his own country, he begged the emperor to
banish instead of putting him on his trial, which
Would have been the same thing as sentencing- him
to death ; and this exile he proposed should continue
till such time as, by travelling abroad, he might be
enabled, by Divine assistance, to prove his innocence
in bringing back to China some information of such
an extraordinary nature, that it could not fail to
be honourable and useful to the empire. His terms
were granted, and Avith this object in A'iew, for three
long years had the Chinese nobleman wandered,
Uke other travellers, in search of the Avonderful in
various quarters of the world ; and not till he had
met with Drake did he see any likelihood of satis
fying the expectations of his imperial master. He
now, therefore, told Drake, would he but raake him
acquainted with his adventures, the relation of them
would aff'ord such a store for his memory, that he
could not fail, on imparting it at court, to procure
a full pardon from the greatest emperor on the face

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 237
of the globe. Drake gladly complied with this re
quest, and, assisted by the interpreter, told all the
"import of his travel's history" to the delighted
exile; whose gratitude was so warm at hearing such
wonders that, as the only adequate return he could
make to the narrator of thera, he offered to become
his guide, and to secure him an honourable recep
tion at the high court of the Celestial Empire itself,
would he but steer his course that Avay.
Drake's mind, however, Avas bent on a homeward
voyage ; so learing his history to be recorded by the
Chinese, after the manner of his country (and no
doubt a curious work it must have been), he bade
him adieu; and after touching at more than one
island, sailed to the Celebes, where a contrary Avind
impeded his course, and he became entangled by the
numerous shaUows that Avere found amongst the
contiguous islands. Here they beat about till the
9th day of January, 1580, when, in the midst of
smooth seas, a favourable gale, and in the fiill con
fidence they had at last attained a free passage for
then- bark, Drake and his crew in an instant found
themselves in more imminent danger than they had
encountered during all the various trials of thefr
adventurous career; for, Avhilst sailing without even
a suspicion of danger, the ship struck on a shoal Avith
such force that all human aid was vain.
Drake, Avho never quailed whilst there Avas a
chance left that, by the boldness of his example
and the manly exertion of his authority, some relief
might be obtained, noAV saAv no hope but with God,
to Avhom he looked, in this instance, more for eternal
than present mercy on himself and his people.
Death, and that immediate, was before their eyes.

238 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
Determined, hoAvever hopeless, to use every eff'ort,
he caused the pumps to be pUed, and the vessel Avas
found fi-ee from any leak. His next thought Avas, if
possible, to discover if there might not be some spot
where they might moor the boat, and thence drag
the ship into deep water. In this emergency Drake
would trust no one Arith the soundings but himself.
He threw the Une that was to become the hope of
life, or the certainty of death, Arith a firm hand — but
so deep were the waters that no anchorage could be
found even close to the ship, and it now appeared
that the rock on which she had struck started per
pendicularly from the sea. Drake's hopes were
gone, for well did he know it needed but the sUghtest
breath of Avind to lift the keel of the vessel, Avhen
one blow more must be the last. This discovery of
a fathomless deep that Avould have plunged his men
into despair, Drake did not immediately make known
to them ; he paused for a moment's reflection ; but
found no comfort in his oavu bosom, since escape
from so many perils seemed impossible. In a little
whUe the ship would be a Avreck> if the men at
tempted to reach the land in thefr boat they would
be swamped, or, did they gain it, a worse fate Avould
be thefrs ; they Avould be murdered by the savages,
for a more fierce and cruel race than those Avho
inhabited the surrounding shores was no where to
be found.
Wishing his people, therefore, to meet death as it
became brave and Christian men, Drake caUed them
around him, and with that impressive solemnity of
feeling which his deep sense of religion never failed
to inspfre, he commanded the sacrament to be admi
nistered to all, and that aU should on thefr bended

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 239
knees humbly and devoutly join in one coramon
prayer for deliverance. This done, and strength
ened by a brief though hearty repentance towards
God, he once more earnestly enjoined them to labour,
that by so doing they might speedily lighten the
ship. Six pieces of ordnance were first thrown
overboard; bars of gold and sUver, those riches for
which they had toiled and bled, Avent next to enrich
the caves and treasure-houses of the boundless deep.
This labour ended,, there was no more to do but wait
in patience for that moment when the present aAvful
suspense should end in death. But now that every
human eff'ort was unavaiUng, when man had done
his Uttle aU, and his prayers had come up to the
throne of mercy, God showed himself "raighty to
save ;" as if he had audibly said to every ear — as the
event proved he did to every heart — " Stand by, and
see the salvation of the Lord ;" for scarcely had
thefr last hope deserted thera, when the wind (which
had hitherto blown so strongly against the side of
the vessel, as she leaned towards the sea, that it held
her upright against the rock) suddenly dropped;
and the tide being then low, she reeled — in another
moment she was in deep water, and cleared from
that perUous rock which must have dashed her in
pieces : Drake and his crew had passed from the
certainty of death, to life and hope again. How
few, as they did, have tasted the cup of bitter
ness, thus suddenly changed to one of blessing
and of joy ! Yet scarcely even then could they
trust it. So deep was the impression of this escape
from death on all the crew, that for some time they
dared not venture to hoist a sail, but let the vessel
creep along, as it were, amidst the shoals and

240 LIFE OF DRAKE. [LET.
shallows vrith a degree of fear that kept them con
stantly on the watch.
After mentioning an event so interesting as this,
I shall not dwell on those of minor import, which
occurred at the several islands Avhere the Admiral
touched during the remainder of his A'oyage. At
length he advanced towards the Cape of Good Hope;
on the 15th of August, passed the tropic, and on the
26th of September, arrived once more at Plymouth ;
Avhere he found, by the variation of the several cli
mates through which he had saUed, that he had lost
one day in his reckoning, having in all been absent
from England two years, ten months, and a fsAV
days. Drake, notAvithstanding the wealth he had lost by
throAving it into the sea, brought home sufficient to
be the possessor of great riches ; and his fame Avas
now so established, that he was the delight and
Avonderof the kingdom; Avherever he came the mul
titude thronged around and greeted him Avith the
most enthusiastic expressions of admiration and
regard. Elizabeth, Avho might Avell be proud of her
adventurous Admiral, on his bringing the Pelican,
which had so long spread her wings over the Avilder
ness of the wild waters, into the harbour near Green-
Aricli, did him the favour of a royal visit ; feasted,
Avith her court, on board his ship, and there conferred
upon him the honour of knighthood; an honour
then rare ; and never was it more truly deserved, or
more boldly won.
Drake, hoAvever, Avas one of those characters Avho
can gain nothing by any external mark of distinc
tion ; his own untitled name would have been suf
ficient honour for him in his day, and posterity

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 241
estimates no man by his titles nor his bearings.
Yet so rauch did our great Admiral underrate his
own merits that he was desirous to assume the coat
of arms of Sir Bernard Drake, a Devonshire knight,
to whose family Francis Drake believed himself to
be related by a younger branch. If our hero is to
be blamed for feeling anxious about a thing so infi
nitely below his consideration, Avhat must be said
of Sir Bernard, who took high offence at what he
deemed an act of presumption in one, in the poverty
and obscurity of whose birth he was himself mean
enough to see more cause for shame, than honour in
the genius, the worth, and the eminent services of the
individual that Avould hereafter rank him amongst the
most glorious of his country's sons ? It is said by tra
dition, that so bitterly did the silly Sir Bernard resent
this affront about his arms, that he travelled up to
London to complain of it ; and whilst heated in quar
rel on the subject, gave Sir Francis a box on the ear !
The news Avas soon carried to the queen, who speed
ily devised the means of justly and severely mortifying
the pride of Sir Bernard in the most tender point.
Elizabeth, fond of aUegory, (and in her age it Avas
the fashion in all things, serious or trifling,) now
gave her gallant Admiral a coat of arms of her OAvn
invention: Sable, a fess Avavy between two pole
stars argent. For the crest: a ship, under ruff,
draAvn round a globe, Arith a cable rope, by a hand
out of the clouds, with this motto over it, ' auxUio
dirino,' and this under it, ' sic parris magna.' In
the rigging of the vessel, the queen suspended a
wivern hy the heels, that heraldic bird being the
crest of the proud Sir Bernard, and the cause of his
petty jealousy and quarrels with Sir Francis.
VOL. II. M

242 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET..
Drake found, in more instances than the one above
cited, that though he had compassed the world, he
could not escape the effects of those malignant pas
sions which are every where found in it; from
the Indian, Avho, in savage society, knocks doAvn his
enemy and scalps him, to the European, in more
poUshed life, who caUs his felloAV man his friend,
AvhUst he often aims a secret blow at his feelings, or
his reputation, when he can no longer injure him in
his fortune. In Drake's tirae it was a custom, on
receiATing the honour of knighthood, to give presents
in money to such courtiers as might belong to the
household of the queen. Sir Francis offered his
gold as freely as he had gained it ; but many, not
otherwise noted for nice or scrupulous feeUngs,
indulged their envy and malice by the refusal of his
gifts, affecting to consider them the fruits of nothing
better than a pirate's success in a lawless career.
The Queen, hoAvever, judged more Idndly of her
Admiral; and joined him in command Avith other
naval officers of eminence, Forbisher and Hawkins.
Drake AveU repaid her confidence in his prowess, by
taking the towns of St. Jago, St. Domingo, Car
thagena, and St. Augustine, in Florida, from the
Spaniards. During the attack on St. Domingo, he
had landed a large body of men, and kept possession
of the place for several weeks, and sent a flag of
truce (intending to treat Avith the enemy) by a
negro boy. So little did the Spaniard, AA'ho received
the flag, respect the laAV of nations, or of humanity,
that he stabbed the unfortunate envoy with his own
hand on the spot. The poor negro fled; he had
strength sufficient to enable him to return to the
Admiral ; he related the circumstance, and instantly

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 243
expired at his feet. Drake, justly indignant at such
an outrage on common huraanity, seized a couple of
friars, who were already his prisoners, and sent them
with a strong guard to the spot Avhere the negro
boy received his death blow ; declaring that unless
the murderer was given up to him, he would hang
those priests and a couple more each day, till jus
tice should be done. The Spaniards dared not
trifle with the EngUsh Admfral, Avho they weU knoAV
would be Ukely to keep his word ; the offender Avas
therefore given up, and executed for the crime of
murder ; Drake obliging the dastardly Spaniards to
carry into effect the sentence he had pronounced.
The year 1588 avUI be ever memorable in the
annals of England for the defeat of the Armada;
a force which, had it been permitted to succeed,
would in all probability have been the means of.
restoring, at least for a time, the papal poAver in this
Idngdom; and it is not unworthy remark, that
exactly a century after, 1688, the providence of God
was again manifestly extended over this country,
the landing of King WUliam becoming the means of
preserring to us our Protestant Church and consti
tution ; and in 1788, the memorable struggle be
tAveen Fox, the whig advocate of emancipation, and
Pitt, the tory supporter of our civil and religious
polity, took place on the bUl respecting the regency,
and once more the good cause prevailed, by the
king's restoration to health, enabling him to fulfil
the duties of his august station, and to preserve
inriolate his coronation oath.
The chief command of the English fleet sent forth
by Elizabeth against the Spaniards Avas committed
to Lord Howard of Effingham, as Lord High Ad-
m2

244 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
miral of England, Sir Francis Drake Avas Vice-Ad-
miral, and Hawkins and Forbisher had each an
eminent post appointed them in the fleet; which
altogether amounted to about one hundred sail.
The gallant conduct of Drake in this expedition is
known to every reader of history ; and so great was the
terror of our hero's name, that the Spanish ship com
manded by Don Pedro de Valdez yielded on finding
with Avhom he had ventured on immediate contact.
Drake continued chasing such of the vessels as had
escaped the fury of battle during three days, till God
himself finally defeated the enemies of England, by
that fearful storm Avhich sent their fugitive ships,
little better than Avrecks, back to their OAvn ports.
The last voyage undertaken by Sir Francis was
in the year 1595, when Elizabeth, desirous of de
stroying the power of Spain past reraedy, in the
West Indies, gave Hawkins and Drake command
of six of her ships, besides which they had not less
than twenty-one of their oavu. It Avas intended this
expedition should be carried on Arith the utmost
secrecy ; a measure of prudence Avhich Drake had
never faUed observing, Avhen he acted singly, in his
forraer voyages. In the present instance, however,
discretion Avas somcAvhere Avanting, for the King
of Spain received information of their plans, and
adopted means of defence even before the fleet had
quitted the British shores. Sir John Hawkins, a
man of considerable merit, unhappily died soon
after he was at sea; and Drake being uoav left
alone in command, steered his course for the coast
of Porto Rico, a toAvn in South America, where,
Avhilst the vessel Avas riding in the road, a shot from
the batteries entered the cabin as he was at supper.

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 245
struck the chair on Avhich he sat, broke it under
hira, and Idlled his friend Brute Brown, Avhilst
Sir Nicholas Cliff'ord, another companion of his
table, received a dangerous wound. Drake started
up, and looking Avith sorrow on his faUen friend,
exclaimed " Ah ! dear Brute, I could, indeed, mourn
for thee, but this is not the hour to subdue my
spirit ;" and, his heart SAvelling with indignation more
than grief, he took an immediate revenge by cap
turing and burning two Spanish ships in the very
sight of the castle. Thus were the Spaniards made
to feel that Drake was still himself in spirit, though
his success on the Avhole fell far short of his former
achievements, or of his present hopes and expecta
tions ; as he soon found that the inadvertency or
the treachery which had betrayed his plans led the
way to frustrate them. Notwithstanding this, he
was successful in his attack on Nombre de Dios, for
he stormed and burnt the town ; after that event he
did nothing of any import; and this change of
fortune is said to have had such an effect upon his
mind, that it caused his death by bringing on a flux,
which in a foAV hours put a period to his glorious
career, near Bella Porta in America, on the 9th of
January, 1.597. On this point Johnson remarks —
" Upon Avhat the conjecture is grounded does not
appear ; and we may be allowed to hope, for the
honour of so great a man, that it is Avithout founda
tion; and that he, whom no series of success
could ever betray to vanity or negligence, could
have supported a change of fortune without impa
tience or dejection." It may hoAvever be observed
(though Johnson does not riew it in that light),
that present vexation of mind, which differs widely

246 LIFE OF DRAKE. [lET.
fi-ora the deep sorrow of a broken heart, might
really have been the cause of his death, without any
disparagement to the greatness of Drake's cha
racter; since it is weU knoAvn to medical men of
experience that momentary vexation, and sudden
passion of any description will, in constitutions
worn by hardships and varieties of cUmate, fre
quently bring on fatal attacks of that very disorder
which carried him off in so short a time.
His remains Avere placed in a leaden coffin, and
after the funeral service had been performed Arith
every solemnity, they Avere lowered into the deep
by his sorroAving crew, to Avhom he had endeared
hiraself as much by his personal attention to thefr
feelings and their Avants, as by the example of his
courage, perseverance, and generosity. Though
Drake was not wholly free, perhaps, from sorae of
those faults which his enemies drew in exaggerated
colours, yet take him as a whole, and few pubhc
characters have left so fan-, so unblemished a name.
He was the scourge of the Spaniards, and by the just
retribution of Proridence they were made to feel
that he was such in those very lands where they
had acted the most abhorrent crimes to a poor un
enlightened, and (till their OAvn cruelties aAvakened
their Avorst passions) a harmless race of men, ca
pable of gratitude, and exceedingly docile, had they
been led by kind raasters instead of being hunted
and goaded Uke Avild beasts or slaves. Those Avho
are eager to censure Drake for his piracies on the
Spanish settlements in America should remember
these things, as Avell as the base manner in which
he was treated by the Viceroy (who was supported
in that act by the King of Spain) in the very onset

XXIX.] LIFE OF DRAKE. 247
of his career ; when aU the fortune, the result of his
industry and his toils, in his first little bark was
lost, not in the chances of an open and expected
warfare, but by an attack the most unsuspected and
treacherous. The "sea dirinity," which prompted
him to make reprisals, no doubt was too orthodox
in the riews of a bold and injured seaman, inured
from his earliest years to the habits of the ocean,
ever after to be forgotten or laid aside.
But if we riew the character of Drake in its
loyalty, its national pride, its unshaken bravery and
perseverance, its kindness, so blended with a firm
but not tyrannic exercise of authority ; its generosity
to his followers ; and, above all, in its deep de
votional feelings, which neither prosperity nor ad
versity, nor honours, nor riches (the great corrupter
of the human heart), could ever Aveaken, or render
even for a moraent forgetful of his God; we shall
not fail to admire the qualities of his heart as much
as we do those of his genius — both Avere capacious ;
and, like his great and kindred spirit, Columbus,
he was as humble and merciful as a Christian, as he
was celebrated for his skiU as a navigator, and for
his courage as a raan. There is no tomb in Eng
land to the memory of Sir Francis Drake, but his
fame encircles the globe.
And so ends this sketch of our gallant townsman's
Ufe. My next AriU speak of another of our Avorthies;
in the interval Allow me the honour to remain.
My dear Sir,
Very faithfuUy and truly yours,
Anna E. Bray.

248

LETTER XXX.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.
Contents. — Affecting story of a widow and her only son — Old
Nanny the water-cvess woman — Story of an eccentric old farmer ;
his manner of life and interpretation of scripture — Romantic tale
of Sarah related — An old tale noticed by Baretti; his excellence as
a writer; his letters fallen into undeserved neglect ; his journey
through Tavistock noticed ; his account of the weather — The old
woman's tale repeated by herself to Baretti here quoted — Cruelty
of the Agent ; his determination to ruin the inn ; places the new
bridge in a spot remote from it with that view — Barefti's just re
flections on the subject of petty tyranny — Passage extracted from a
letter of Mr. Southey to the writer — Traditions of Tavistock and
wonderful tales, gleaned araongst the elders of the town — Joseph
Glanviile had probably collected frora fhe same source in his day —
Story of an old witch; a hare and a hound followed by the hunts-
' men — Heathfield, the favourite haunt of devils and spirits — Story
of an old woman going to market surprised by a hare — The lamb
and the dove — A Tavistock psalm-singer's encounter with the foul
fiend — Another story of the devil, which shows him to be a great
patron of fiddlers — This last legend probably a vestige of the Old
Moralities — The Dying Miller, an old Christmas play, acted here
about thirty years ago — The devil surprises a lad stealing nuts on
a Sunday — Vestiges of ancient customs — St. Valentine's day — Old
customs still occasionally observed — Gloves sent on Easter day —
Washing clothes on a Good Friday sinful and unlufiky — To wean
children on that day lucky ; also to fill a garden — Shrove Tuesday,
a noted day — Old customs — Lent crocking ; old lines upon it —
Roasting the shoe — Rose plucked on midsummer day — Supersti
tious notions about the days of the week — Birth of children —
Twenty-ninth of May rauch observed in this town ; an affray that
took place on that day some years ago ; called Garland day— Gar
lands, how made ; birds' eggs entwined with flowers— The robin's
egg not allowed— Robin held sacred— Children, their dress and
sports — Midsummer Eve, aucient superstition concerning it — Creep
ing under the communion-table to cure fits— A vestige of an ancient

xxx.] A WIDOW AND HER SON. 249
custom probably originating with the Tolraen — Cure for the tooth.
ache ; practised in the town — Magpie omens — The holy thistle ;
its properties and beautiful appearance — Superstition concerning it
— Charms to cure the king's evil — Reading the eighth psalm over
infants — Unlocking boxes — Lucky omens — Sun shining on tha,
bride — New raoon — Superstition of the Bible and the key — New
corn — Plants put into mourning by a widow — Subterranean passage
said to lead from the Abbey to Fitz-ford — Discovery at Fitz-ford —
Story about concealed plate probably true — Mary Colling brings a
letter written by herself — Story of a ghost that haunted Down-house
— Old stories about Lady Howard, one in particular related.

Vicarage, Tavistock, January 8, 1833.
My dear Sir,
I HAVE heard Mary CoUing (avUo is a most;
intelligent and exact registrar of all the old tales,
traditions, and characters of any note in her native-
town) tell a very interesting story concerning a poor
woman, formerly of this place, the particulars of"
Avhich Mary received fi-om a near relative of the-
person concerned in the tale, and these I deem not
unworthy mentioning to you.
Many years ago this poor woraan (whose name
Mary had either never heard, or had forgotten) was
left a Avidow Avith an only son. She Avas very fond
of the boy, and, as far as her slender means would
go, brought him up with more care than persons in
her station Avere generally able to bestoAV on their
children. WhUst he Avas yet a little fellow, an officer
in the navy took a fancy to him on account of his
hopeful and affectionate disposition, and persuaded
the Avidow that it Avould be better to let the lad go
to sea, than to stay at home and be brought up a
labourer or a mechanic. Reluctant to part with
her only treasure, yet not vrishing to thwart a pro
posal which she Avas led to beUeve would be greatly
m3

250 , A WIDOW AND HER SON. [lET.
to his advantage, she let him go, and looked forward
AAith longing hopes to hear good noAvs of her boy.
None however came : year after year rolled on, and
still she heard nothing. She made many efforts to
gain intelligence, but not succeeding, at length con
cluded he Avas dead.
Finding the home AA'here she had parted from her
son, and where she had hoped to see him again
alive and well, become melancholy, she left the
place ; and after wandering for sorae time Avith a
basket on her arm, selling fi-uit and trifles by Avhich
she obtained a livelihood, increasing years made her
determine to take up a more fixed Avay of life again,
and she removed to Plymouth. There she noAV
sold fruit in the market as a regular dealer. Hav
ing something in her appearance that was venerable,
being very neat in her dress, civil in speech, and
just in her deahngs, the old market-woman became
a favourite, and never wanted customers.
Many vessels put into Plj'mouth harbour, so that
strangers were often frequenters of the market.
Amongst these was a young man, dressed in a
sailor's jacket, who Avas a constant customer to the
poor fi-uit-woman. For several days he renewed
his visits to her basket, and at last, fixing his eyes
upon her Avith great earnestness, he said, as the
tears started into them, " I Uke to buy of you, good
woman, because I had once a poor old mother Avho,
as I well remember, Avas much like you ; but she is
dead and gone."
The woman looked up fiiU in his face, the fruit
she was about to sell fell from her hand, as she ex
claimed, " Good God ! and if I had a son as old as
you alive he would be your fellow, for you are like

XXX.] A WIDOW AND HER SON. 251
what his father Avas at your age. My boy had a
mark on his forehead that came from a hurt he got
by a fall that he had when a child."
"AVas it like this?" said the sailor, as he took off'
his hat and pushed aside his curling hair.
The Avoman could give no answer, so much Avas
she overpoAvered by her feelings on finding the
dead alive in her oAvn long lost son. She dropped
down on the spot, Avas carried from it Avith the
greatest anxiety by her cMld and the neighbours,
and on her senses being restored poured forth a
blessing on her son, tlianldng God she had lived to
see him once more ; and noAv declared she had not
a vrish left but to die Avhen so happy, and be in
heaven. Her prayer, fervently offered, was, no
doubt, mercifully accepted : in a few days, the
young man deeply sorrovring, and attended by some
of the ship's crew, who showed a generous sympathy
in his filial grief, foUoAved the remains of hi& affec
tionate mother to the churchyard in Plymouth,
where they rest in peace. By Avhat train of cfrcum
stances the youth had fancied her to be no more,
so that she had received no news from him for so
many years, I do not know, nor could I learn, but
the story is not undeserring record.
Amongst the Uving characters that Mary CoUing,
to use her own AVords, " loves to be telling about,"
is Old Nanny, the water-cress woman. — " Mary,"
said I, one day, " you have promised to bring me
acquainted vrith your old Nanny, about whom you
teU me so many anecdotes. I want to see her :
what sort of a person is she in her appearance?"
" If you please, ma'am, I'U shoAV you, I've got her
in my pocket."

252 OLD NANNY. [lET.
" In your pocket, Mary ! Avhy, old Nanny is not a
pixy, is she?"
" Oh, no ; but I know you Avill not laugh at me
for what I have done. But as you said the other
day you should like to see Nanny, I have been try
ing to draAV her picture for you on a bit of paper,
in her tidy cloak, and Arith her basket on her arm,
just as she comes to our house Arith one thing
and the other that we buy of her. There it is,
ma'am." Mary put into my hands a little sketch of a Avliole
length figure that, considering Mary Avho attempted
it had, I wUl venture to say, scarcely seen any prints
beyond those to be found in her own little books,
and knew nothing of the rules of drawing, really did
surprise rae and Mr. Bray too ; the figure had so
corapletely the character of a raarket -woman pre
pared for her calling, I gave the sketch all the
praise it deserved ; for Mary is one of those to Avhom
praise does good; it inspires her with hope and
cheerfulness, and not Avith a shadow of vanity. " But,
Mary," said 1, still looking at the sketch, " in your
draAring, you put me in mind of the Greek painter,
whose story no doubt you have read; you remem
ber he despaired of being able to depict the grief of
a father for his daughter's loss, and so he covered
the face with a veil. Thus have you, not feeling
yourself equal to give me a sketch of old Nanny's
features, very ingeniously contrived corapletely to
hide the face, all saving the tip of the chin, under
the poke of the bonnet. Now Nanny's face is the
very thing I most wish to see."
" And it's as honest and as good-tempered a face
as any you will see, ma'am, in a summer's day.

XXX.] OLD NANNY. 253
And Nanny's very good-looking, too, for one of her
years ; for she's up four-score years old, and that's a
great age."
" Indeed ! and yet you tell me she goes out on
Dartmoor to pick cresses and hurtleberiies to gain
a living. Do tell rae all about her." And then
Mary Colling gave rae Nanny's history as nearly as
possible in the follovring Avords : —
" Old Nanny, the water-cress woman, is, as I have
tried to make her in the drawing, rather short and
stout, and looks the picture of health and cheer
fulness. Her right narae is, I think, Anne Burna-
ford Jaraes. Her grandfather was, as she told me,
a clergyman, Avho bore a great character in his day,
particularly for conjuring away a very troublesome
ghost, and confining him in a tower ; the clock of
which has never since struck, as the old people of
the country say. Nanny is a vridoAV, and well known
as a very hard-working woman. She lives with her
daughter-in-law, who is also a vridow vrith three
children ; and, like Ruth and Naomi, they will not
part, and they AVorship God together. You have
heard tell, no doubt, hoAV raany sailors' farailies
lived about Plyraouth and this country formerly.
Nanny's daughter-in-laAV is the widoAv of a sailor,
Avhose ship some said Avas lost, but most believe it
Avas taken by pirates, and that he was Idlled. The
eldest boy goes to school at GreeuAvich, the two
others are very sickly, and live at horae Avith their
mother. She is poor, industrious, and honest ; and
Avhat Avith old Nanny's hard labour and the little
alloAved by the parish, they all make a very decent
appearance; and now the daughter-in-law has set
up a little shop to supply poor people with trifling

254 OLD NANNY. [lET-
things; and the profit of it helps pay the rent. But
the main stay of the faraily is Nanny.
" Poor old soul ! she is up with the lark, and
oftentimes dm-ing summer she goes to Dartmoor
to gather hurtleberries, called by the counti-y
people, hurts. And sometimes she's away to the
woods for nuts or blackberries; or else to the
hedges and fields for herbs and elderberries. She
fi-equently rises on a frosty morning, long before
day, and walks four or five miles to pull water-
cresses, Avhen the streara where they grow has been
half frozen. She told me that one morning, after
coming out of the water into which she had been
obliged to go, to gather the cresses, her clothes
were frozen about her. These vegetables and herbs
she sells, and supplies persons who make elder-
Avine or blackberry-syrup. The poorer class have
a great opinion of old Nanny as a doctress, and
she is the most kind and useful person in the
world to them ; and does cures, and is very clever
in dressing a wound. No one better understands
the medical quaUties of different herbs, Avhich she
says are too much despised and neglected by
the real doctors. She finds many rare ones on
Dartmoor; and always turns her apron before she
goes there in search of them, because she was once
pixy-led on the moor."
I make no apology to you, my dear Sir, for writing
about such humble characters as these, because I
know you deUght in, and indeed, wished me to
gather what I could gather, of "the short and
simple annals of the poor," and in one of your own
essays, you have given some most deUghtful rela
tions of the industry and struggles of the poor, par-

XXX.] AN ECCENTRIC FARMER. 255
ticularly in the story of Britton Abbot, and the lad
who used to attend on his paralytic raother.
And now, having told you tAvo stories of the rir-
tuous poor, I will tell you another respecting a man
who, in point of property, could not come under that
class ; though he had commenced life as a weaver,
but afterwards turned to farming, and with very
considerable success. I bring him forward here as
an instance of the danger arising from presumption,
when the half-educated and whole conceited take
on theraselA'es to interpret scripture after their own
mind, and not according to the canon. As the
story of this old man is notorious, known indeed to
all the neighbourhood, there can be no improper
prying into faraUy secrets in here mentioning it.
However, as what I have to tell is not to the credit
of his memory,. I vriU spare his name. His picture,
sketched from recoUection, full length with the face,
(and I am told it is a good likeness,) I have been
favoured vrith from the ingenious hand of Mary
ColUng. There lived about a mile from Taristock, an
old man Avho was most eccentric in all his ways;
strictly honest in his dealings relative to business,
and Avould pay even a farthing in settUng an ac
count,, rightly saying that a farthing debt was as
much due as a pound. He was also an exceUent
master to his labourers; and such a lover was
he of aU the country customs, that whilst he lived
he might be considered as the representative of
old manners and past times. Every festival through
out the year was duly observed by hun and his
household ; and his men working on the farm.
had their fuU share of all the sports. No house
displayed such an abundance of shrove cakes ; May-

256 AN ECCENTRIC FARMER. [lET.
day had its honours, and as Christmas Avas croAvned
with evergreens, the yule-clogs were noble, and
roast-beef and plum-puddings feasted the poor;
whilst all the games and fi-olics of that season were
celebrated with the honours their antiquity required.
There Avas nothing to be said against this liberal
old farmer, excepting that he considered himself a
profound theologian; controverted the doctrines of
the Established Church, and in his advanced years
chose to give a practical example of patriarchal
liring that scandalized all the neighbourhood. For
after living forty years Avith his Avife, he publicly
avowed his intention of taking her maid, as his oAvn
hand-maid, after the example of Abraham ; saying
he chose, in this particular, to walk after the old
law; nor would he allow, Avhen his friends remon
strated, that there Avas any sin or shame in the act ;
seeing that he did not intend to turn out his old
Avifc, but still to give her the first place of honour in
the house. This beautiful scheme he carried into
eff'ect; but somehow or other, the old Avife did not
think her husband's illustration of scripture quite
orthodox, and very properly refused to live longer
under the same roof with hira ; and so she left him,
to reside Avith her own raarried daughter. But no
sooner had she removed, than the patriarchal far
mer paid her the utmost attention, and to keep up
her authority and rights, deputed the hand-maid to
carry her almost daily the best things his table or
his farra could aff'ord.
The old raan next turned prophet ; and declared
he knew he was to become the father of five chil
dren, who were to be brought up on his Avife's knees,
in all reverence to her, as in the days of Sarah and
Rebecca; and five chUdren he really had — for, as

XXX.] A ROMANTIC STORY. 257
an old divine says, "if we give the devil our ear
to false doctrine, he will grant us our heart's desire
in the fruits of the sermon that goeth after his text."
The boys he named Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob;
one girl Avas called Sarah, and the other he Avished
to narae Rebecca; but the hand-maid begged she
might be called after herself — Mary. So the old
farmer said he had no objection, for the child could
not be called after a better Avoman than the Virgin
Mary, Avhose Ufe he intended her to imitate in holy
prayers and good Avorks. It is lamentable to think
that this man died, as I am assured he did, in the
full conviction that he had committed no sin, in his
Avay of life, either toAvards God or towards society.
"The most romantic story that I have heard of in
this neighbourhood is one I am now about to men
tion. The particulars Avere related to me by our
good friend Mr. H  . He derived thera from his
mother ; that lady has been dead some years ; but
in her young days she Avas acquainted with one of
the parties most concerned, and I am assured by
Mr. H  . that hoAvever romantic the circum
stances may appear, more like those of a novel than
of real life, they are nevertheless unexaggerated
and true. He has given rae full permission to re
peat them, only requesting me to suppress the
names, because, though the actors in this melan
choly drama have long since been in their graves,
he believes some of their descendants may be still
liring. The events I have thus collected and am
about here to repeat occurred about sixty years
ago. A person of this toAvn, Avho Avas the OAvner of con
siderable property, had only one daughter; her
Christian name Avas Sarah. From Avhat I have

258 A ROMANTIC STORY. [lET.
heard, she appears to have been amiable and af
fectionate, possessed of great personal attractions,
and of mild, engaging manners. To her might be
appUed those lines, beautifiil in their simplicity,
descriptive of Emma : '*
Her eye was patient, and she spoke in tones
So sweet and of so pensive gentleness
That the heart felt them.
The attractions of Sarah were too obrious to re
main unnoticed, and she had many admirers ; some
of a station and fortune that might have dazzled a
less ingenuous mind; but her hand and heart re
mained free, till a young man of inferior degree, but
possessed of great worth and industry, became at
tached to her, and was bold enough to apply to her
father for his consent. The father refused to give it
unless the lover could satisfy him that he was worth
one hundred pounds to begin the world with.
From the opulence of the old gentleman, and the
knoAvn poverty of the youth, this was considered a
mere excuse to get rid of his importunity; for as
Sarah declared her only reluctance was the fear of
off'ending her parent, there was no obstacle to be
pleaded concerning her consent to the proposal.
The young man, who possessed a truly honour
able mind, would not attempt to deceive the father,
even to gain the most anxious wish of his heart ;
and he candidly told the old gentleman that his
present fortunes were humble ; he possessed no
such sum as one hundred pounds; but he had
health and industry, and that he hoped to gain it
and many more for Sarah's sake. The father, on
hearing tins, peremptorily refrised him, and forbade
* In the poem of ' Madoc'

XXX.] A ROMANTIC STORY. 259
him all access to the house, though he had hitherto
allowed him to Aisit there without restraint. The
daughter offered no remonstrance; she submitted
to the authority it Avas her duty to respect, with her
accustomed gentleness ; but it soon became evident
that though her outward demeanour Avas calm, aU
was not well Avithin. She Avas dejected, silent, and
so low that what was then called "a fever on the
spirits " ensued, and her state of health was con
sidered very precarious. Alarmed at this, the father
so far relented, that one day, after haring closely
questioned her, he intimated " that though he had
so positively declared to the young man, Avhose pre
sumption he censured for looking so much above
him, that he would never consent, and felt himself
therefore bound not to appear to change his pur
pose; yet, nevertheless, if she could not be happy
\rithout him, and stole a marriage without asking
leave about it, he would forgive her, if she behaved
properly when all was done."
It is needless to add that this intimation was not
spoken to deaf ears ; it was speedily followed by a
stolen marriage, if so it could be called, and most
likely all would have ended happily, but that there
was another person who fancied herself concerned in
the matter, and Avho now stept in to play her part
in the drama. This was the young lady's aunt, (her
father's sister,) who, from the many anecdotes re
peated to me about her, I should judge to be one
of the most reraarkable characters in deliberate
iniquity that I have ever heard of in real life, or ever
read of in romance. This woman was a compound
of many opposite qualities; some the most desfr--
able, and others the worst that could be found in

260 A ROMANTIC STORY. [lET.
her sex. In the first class, she possessed strong
sense, an active spirit, a steady teraper, and an in
defatigable perseverance. Of evil she had a still
larger share ; a smooth insinuating address, the
most artful and far-sighted policy, and was, in equal
degrees, selfish, unfeeling, cold and proud. Tn her
OAvn raarriage, cunning as she Avas, she had been
mistaken, having married a man whose expectations
she beUeved to be raore considerable than they really
were ; she had a son grown up, an apothecary, but
one of the Romeo and .luUet order; for his beg
garly account of empty boxes displayed smaU prac
tice and a barren farae. He bore also a very indif
ferent character, not having the art to hide his
faults so skilfully as his mother concealed her own.
This lady commenced her measures about her
niece, by persuading the father, for the sake of
appearances, (that great object of little minds,) that
it might seera to the world he had not really sanc
tioned such an inferior raatch, to hold himself aloof
for a short time from his daughter, and by no means
immediately to see her. The father was a very
weak man; and as bold spirits, who are held in
respect on account of their superior sense, gene
rally awe such men into submission, it is less Avon
derful that he should have been silly enough to let
his sister guide hira in this unfeeling conduct to
wards his child. She persuaded him, also, that he
had been practised upon ; that the dejection and
Ulness of the girl had been affected for the purpose
of Avorldng on his mind to obtain his sanction to the
marriage, and at the same time to secure an interest
in his purse. She blamed him for what he had
done without consulting his friends, herself in par-

xxx.] A ROMANTIC STORY. 261
ticular, who Avould have opened his eyes to the de
ception ; and finally overcame his reluctance to fol-
loAV her dictates, by appealing to his pride, of which
he had no small share. His health too was declin
ing ; and he had all the peevishness that frequently
attends the valetudinarian in age, Avhen there is not
(what, I fear, was in this instance the case) a deep
sense of dependence on God, and that consequent
resignation Avhich a strong religious trust never fails
to inspire, AvhUst it makes the bed of infirmity one
of hope and rest. In addition to all this, the poor
man had for years been in the bondage of female
rule, in the habit of submitting more than Avas be
coming to the arbitrary Avill of his very clever and
very cunning sister. It was known to all his friends
that he often yielded in the hope to buy his peace.
The only iraportant act that for years he had done
¦without consulting her, Avas the indirect sanction
given to his daughter to get married without his
formal consent, and for this he was soon made to
pay dearly, as the sequel of what I have to relate
¦vrill show.
He agreed to act entirely in future by his sister's
advice. But only half her purpose Avas gained by
this promise. She knew, however much she might
awe her brother whilst present, that nature was a
strong adA'ocate in a father's heart towards a beloved
child ; and she feared to trust him, did an interview
but once take place betAveen hira and that child.
Her part Avas uoav, therefore, to be played with the
daughter. Mr. H  assures me that she Avas base enough,
under the mask of friendship, to pay her niece a sly
visit on her return to the neighbourhood; and

262 A ROMANTIC STORY. [lET.
blamed her very cordiaUy for youthful imprudence
" and precipitancy ; but, as what Avas done could not
be undone, she hoped to make the best of it ; inti
mating to her confidentially, that she feared her
father Avas so very seriously cUspleased at her taking
him at his word, and running off and getting married
so speedily, that unless very nice management Avas
observed, she was sure he would never adrait her
husband vrithin his doors, or do anything for him in
time to come. This was a serious threat for persons
so situated ; and Sarah asked her aunt what should
she do for the best ? Should she go to her father,
or write to him, or would her aunt, AA'ho had such
influence, speak to him and make peace ? She had
no idea but that he really intended what he said : or,
on no consideration, Avould she have left him in so
undutiful a manner. The aunt used many argu
ments to assist her purpose, and finally persuaded
her niece that the best way to act would be to wait
in respectful silence the old gentleman's pleasure;
by no raeans to intrude herself upon him, either by
a personal or written ap^plication ; and that she
would say all that could be said on the subject,
which Avas far more likely to soften his angry feeUngs,
than any other means in the world.
The daughter feU into the snare, and forbore to
write to, or come near her father for some time ; a
Une of conduct which the aunt in the interval repre
sented as highly disrespectful and unfeeUng. After
waiting a long Avhile, and receiving merely such
information as this Avicked Avoman chose to give
her, Sarah heard nothing from her father himself;
and now thinking he had cruelly treated her, she
gave way to some intemperate feelings towards him ;

XXX.] A ROMANTIC STORY. 263
for, notArithstanding the many amiable qualities she
possessed, she had something- of the impatient spirit
of a spoiled chUd Avhen thwarted by long opposition.
In one of these moods, tmhappily for herself, she
wrote to her father in a tone of complaint, and up
braided Inm vrith harshness for his unkindness,
intimating that after what he had done, he was bound
to forgive her and receive her husband.
This was exactly the point to which the aunt had
laboured to bring matters ; so that now, instead of
making peace between the parties, she, on each side,
fanned the flames of wrath ; till at length, so open a
war was declared, that the old gentleman refused to
see or admit his daughter, and was as seriously pre
judiced against her as h.er most artful enemy had
desired he should be. His health experienced a yet
greater shock frora these troubles, and his sister now
prevaUed with him to believe that no doctor on
earth could so long prop up his declining constitu
tion as her son, the apothecary ; and he had better
leave his melancholy way of housekeeping, and come
and Uve vrith them.
Thus both mother and son beset him, and he gave
himself up entirely to thefr hands; for whilst one
Avas propping up the weakened body, the other was
managing the stiU more weakened mind. Harassed
in spirits ; injured, as the old man believed he was,
in iris tenderest feelings by his own child, he gave
up aU contention, and let his sister do with him what
she Avould,
She next persuaded him that he ought to settle
his Avoiidly aff'airs ; and to make such a wUl that his
worthless daughter, who had in his old age brought
on him so much misery, should have no cause to

264 A ROMANTIC STORY. [lET.
triumph after his death in her OAvn wicked work.
She ought not to have one farthing ; she ought to be
disinherited for her punishment. Here, however,
the cunning adviser ventured beyond the mark.
The old gentleraan, Aveak as he Avas, and in the
hands of these vUe people, Avas not altogether so
completely the dupe of his sister's will as she
Avould make him. He represented to her that
though he felt, as well as herself, that his daugh
ter deserved nothing from him, still her husband
had been very unsuccessfiil, he had heard, in some
speculations he had attempted to get on with in the
Avorld. She might have children, and they Avould be
his posterity, hoAvever angry he might feel Avith their
mother ; nor Avould it be right to cut them off because
of her ingratitude. When the invalid said this, there
was about him a degree of angry resolution, AA'hich
made his sister see it Avould be dangerous to con
tradict him ; and all she could gain, besides a hand
some legacy to herself and son, was a sort of half
promise that if his own life should be spared, and he
saw no Ukelihood of his daughter having a family,
he might add a clause to secure the estates to his
iiepheAv, the doctor, in tirae to come. Well Avas
he now nursed and doctored to keep him aUve ;
and the will made and executed without a pre
sent fear of change. But deep Avas the A'exa-
tions of the aunt when soon after she found her
niece Sarah (whose husband was struggling to rid
himself of difficulties, and to support his wife in the
humblest Avay) was Ukely to becorae a raother ; a
circumstance that Avould effectually cut off" her own
dishonest hopes for eA'er.
Such, however, had been her arts, that she had

xxx,] A ROMANTIC STORY. 265
never AvhoUy cast off her niece, but still wearing the
mask of friendship, had kept up an acquaintance in
an under-hand manner, declaring she dared not
openly countenance her on account of the displeasure
of her father, Avho would never forgive his oavu sister,
if he knew she did so. The aunt, on the plea of
anxiety for her safety, proposed that her son, the
doctor, should attend his cousin in her coraing hour ;
as he Avould do more for her than any other pro
fessional man, and it should be no expense to her
as she Avas so poor. The son did attend his cousin,
and the child Avas born dead. My informant assures
me the same circumstance, the sarae doctor, and the
same result happened thrice in a very fcAV years.
The hopes of the poor raother Avere constantly
blighted, no living child ever repaid the sorroAvs of
its birth; and a funeral, Avithout the consolatory
serrice for the baptized dead, constantly foUoAved
her dangerous travail.
At length old age and the father's infirraities
Avore him out ; he Avas dying ; and now, in the last
moments of his life, he begged to see his child.
Anger had long had its course, but death, that van
quishes all things, overcame even this bitter eneray
of life, and he wished to see Sarah once again.
Sarah could not, he hoped, forget the years of af
fection in Avliich they had lived together ; he would
even yet forgive her if she would but come to him
and show she was sorry for what had passed, and had
some feeling for him on his death-bed. He applied
to his constant attendant, his sister, in these mo
ments of returning kindness, and asked if his child
reaUy knew his dangerous state. The sister told
him she did; but persisted in representing the
VOL. II. N

266 A ROMANTIC STORY. [LET.
daughter as caring nothing about her father, as
devoid of all feeling ; speaking harshly of him to aU
the world, and Avishing only for his death, in the
certainty she was heir to his property.
The daughter, also, on the other hand, hearing of
her father's condition, (for age and illness had con
fined him for some years,) implored her aunt to
intercede with him to see her before he died. But
she always answered he would not. I am told that
it was well known, even at the time, that on one
occasion she would have forced herself into the room
to see her father ; but the aunt riolently repulsed
her, saying it would be the immediate death of him,
if she did so. It soon became evident that the old
man had not many days, possibly not many hours, to
live ; and now again the AriU was brought forward.
His sister, seeing his extreme weakness, and his dis
appointed feelings, gave her an opportunity of acting
on him, made a desperate effort to secure the inhe
ritance as her oAvn, without a chance of alteration,
as she well knew the will of the dead must be
final. It was the last struggle she had Avith her
dying brother ; for he still persisted that he would
not disinherit his grandchildren, though his daughter
deserved nothing in requital for her cruelty and
indifference towards him in his last hours. To settle
the question for ever, his sister now told him, what
she declared she had hitherto feared to mention ;
namely, that ber own son had attended his daughter
in all her confinements, and such was the state of
her health, it was impossible she could ever be other
than the mother of a dead-born child. Even then
the old man paused before he would sign another
wiU, in the hope, the last hope, that his Sarah Avould

XXX.] A ROMANTIC STORY, 267
yet shoAv some sense of feeling for his condition, and
would come and ask his blessing and forgiveness
before he died. But he heard nothing of her ; there
was no change ; and a new wiU having been pre-
¦riously arranged by a lawyer, (who, it Avas afterwards
very generally beUeved, had been largely paid for
what he did on the old gentleman's death,) the un
happy father put his hand to it in the presence of
such witnesses as they chose to caU in. This wUl
bequeathed the entfre property, which Avas consi
derable, to his sister, her son, the doctor, and to thefr
hefrs. The father breathed his last soon after he had
signed the ruin of his own child, who was thus left
in great indigence and distress. In a Uttle whUe
strange reports and whispers went abroad; and
many things became known in consequence of quar
rels and disputes between some of the parties most
concerned in the division of the spoil. These reports
could not escape the daughter's ears ; and conrinced
in her OAvn mind that, however angry her father
might have been, he would not have left her in want
had her aunt reaUy acted the friendly part she had
promised, the wUl became a matter of investigation,
and was disputed by the natural heirs. It was
drawn, ho Ave ver, Arithout flaw or error ; and the law
yer employed averred that it had been made under
the sole direction of the deceased, whose long dis
countenance of the daughter, in consequence of her
marriage, was pubUely known ; a fact that could not
be denied.
The unhappy joung woman, and her husband,
whose Uttle means had been rendered less by the
expenses of law, now dropt aU acquaintance vrith the
n2

268 A ROMANTIC STORY. [lET.
vUe aunt and her deceitful son ; and some time after
she Avas the mother of a living child, who came into
the world to share the poverty of his parents and the
inheritance of their Avrongs. Not long before the
particulars I have narrated Avere communicated to
me, I had been reading- Johnson's ' Life of Savage,'
the poet. That masterly work made a deep im
pression on my feelings, as it must on the feeUngs of
every reader who is not raade of stone ; and I could
not help coraparing the continued course of unre
lenting art and cruelty shown by this detestable
woman toAvards her niece, to that of the barbarovis
mother of the poet toAvards her son. How the mo
ther of Savage died Ave do not know ; for she Avas
living when Johnson Avrote his life : but in the tale
I have to conclude, I can relate that the justice of the
Almighty did not slumber ; it never does, for though
it may be suspended or delayed, it is but like those
slowly advancing tempests, that fall the more fear
fully by having gathered every scattered cloud into
one tremendous mass ere they burst ; and woe be to
the Avicked AA'hen the anger of God is delayed till he
shall have passed fi-om this world to another ; it is
then not as a tempest, but rather as the simoom of
the desert that destroys for ever, and Arithers as it
strikes. The circumstance of all the children being dead
born Avhilst the aunt's son attended the unfortunate
mother, and two children, subsequently born, coming
alive into the world when he no longer attended her,
gave rise to Avhisperings and suspicions too danger
ous to be openly declared. But the affair Avas never,
I believe, in any way investigated ; and if that man
might be guUty or not guUty to the extent he Avas

xxx.] A ROMANTIC STORY. 269
suspected, no doubt he was sufficiently iniquitous in
haring connived at his mother's arts to secure him
the inheritance, and he soon felt the effects of an ill
narae. No one openly spoke to hira their thoughts,
but all shunned him. The doors of the rich were
closed to him, who, in point of wealth, was noAV their
equal. The poor, hoAvever low, would pay him no
respect, and few, even of the miserable, would ask
charity at his hand ; for, as superstition was then
more rife in the west even than it is now, a saying
Avent abroad, " that Avhatever money he touched it
became cursed." His house (no longer, I believe,
in existence) was, I am told, in a solitary spot ; no
servant of respectability would eat his bread, or take
wages of one deemed little better than a Herod
towards children in the hour of their birth. If he
came into public, men shrunk from him, and left him
alone, though in a multitude ; whilst the mother, who
Avas the original instigator of all this guilt and misery,
met, even from him, that most just requital, an ill
return for all the Avickedness she had worked for his
benefit. But there are spirits Avho dare act in the
sight of God deeds that make them quaU before tho
eye of man ; and his spirit Avas of this class. Con
tempt was too much for hira ; he could not brook the
public scorn and abhorrence with which he was
treated ; and he died, it was very generally believed^
of a proud yet broken heart.
The country people, even to this day, tell the
wildest stories about his funeral. One of them I
have heard from Mary CoUing. It is that the
coffin which contained his body was so heavy that
it required ten raen to lift it. That his spirit never
could find rest, and still at times walks, enveloped

270 BARETTI. [let.
in flames. At other times he is seen in company
Arith that one great and eril Prince, to whom it was
beUeved he sold himself whilst on earth, and on
some part of the property he is said to have entaUed
a curse on whomsoever should possess it. Of the
fate of the disinherited daughter I know nothing
more than that she died in great poverty; and
Mary tells me, when a child, she recoUects seeing
in the old churchyard, adjoining a portion of the
Abbey (now converted into a Unitarian meeting),
a tomb-stone much defaced, and half hidden by the
long grass, that bore her name. If any of her pos
terity survive I do not know.
Ere I quit the subject of old stories (and pray
observe, that in relating these I vouch for nothing
more, than that the substance of them has been
related to me by persons of sufficient respectability
to warrant my repeating them), I shall mention one
I have often heard related by Mi-. Bray, who re
ceived it from his late father. This has already been
sUghtly noticed by a most adrairable writer, Baretti,
in his letters addressed to his brothers, where he
relates his progress fi-om London to Falmouth,
whence he set sail to Portugal, and so travelled on
to Genoa. Baretti is one of those authors who, in
the present day, have sunk into undeserved neglect.
The natural and graphic manner in which he de
scribes all he sees ; his lively sketches of the dif
ferent characters he meets Arith in his journeys ; his
constant good humour, and the kindness of heart
which pervades aU his letters, render the volumes
that contain them so truly delightful, that we have,
perhaps, no work of the kind that merits higher
praise, or that Avould be more worthy reprinting in

xxx.J baretti's letter. 271
these times of cheap publication. And when we
recollect these letters possessing so much merit,
even in point of language and style, as Avell as in
matter, were written by a foreigner, they excite our
surprise no less than our admiration. Having thus
endeavoured to give the humble tribute of my
praise to a neglected author whose books I have
read three or four times, and always with renewed
pleasure, I avUI state the cfrcumstances mentioned
by him.
After recounting, in his amusing way, his three
days' journey in the stage-coach fi-om London to
Plymouth (a journey noAV performed in twenty-seven
hours), and teUing us how pleasantly he found him
self situated in the stage Arith Miss Anne and Miss
Helen, as travelling companions ; the songs they
sang to beguile the hours on the road, &c.; he gives
us some notice of Plymouth, and then goes on to
a toAvn (Tavistock) in his way to Horse Bridge,
whence he Avrote the letter to which I allude, and
then the passage from Devon into CoruAvall ; the
Tamar diriding these counties. At Horse Bridge
there Avas a little inn.
Baretti truly is faithful ; and by his account Ave
learn that, however things may change in this
ever-varying world, our Tavistock weather is one
of the most constant in nature, for he begins the
letter in question with these words : " This has
proved a very rainy day, which has made my short
journey very disagreeable. At the town where I
dined (that town was Taristock), haring nobody
to talk to, and yet wanting to talk (Baretti Avas one
of those happy mortals who find pleasure and in
formation in talking to the humblest as well as to

272 AN OLD woman's story. [let.
the highest of their kind), I asked mine hostess
how she went on in her business ?" — " Very poorly,"
said the old Avoman. "1 am very sorry to hear
you say so, said I (Baretti always sympathised
with the feelings of the poor); but how can this
be, as the town seems so populous?" The good
woman then told the ItaUan traveller her tale, which,
as he heard the leading facts from herself, I shall
here repeat by again quoting his letter.
"The old woman," says Baretti, "informed me
that almost the Avhole territory of that toAvn be
longed to a noble peer (that was the Duke of Bed
ford), who never goes there (the present duke
honours it, however, occasionally with his presence),
and leaves all his concerns to the management of
an agent." If Baretti heard the agent's name he
did not state it; but I shall venture to do so, as
the man has been dead for years, our traveller
having written this letter in 1760. The agent's
name then was Butcher; and, truly, by the old
woman's account, he did not deserve one a whit
more gentle, for she thus goes on with his history :
" Now the agent by these means, from a very in
significant felloAV that he originally was, is become
a most considerable personage in the toAvn, and
plays the bashaw over almost every body there.
Do you see," quoth the old woraan, " that girl there ?
WeU, she is a virtuous girl, and never would raind
the agent. I Avill say no more : but he took some
thing amiss in us, and declared himself our enemy.''
He did indeed declare and prove himself an
enemy to these poor people ; for when the new road
was about that time made over Dartmoor, it served
him as an excuse for the erection of a noAV bridge.

XXX.] an old woman's story. 273
which he contrived to have built higher up the
river, so that it might lead travellers, coming from
Moreton, Exeter, and Ashburton, to an inn he
favoured instead of that occupied by the persons he
Avas determined to ruin. The old bridge he caused
to be taken down, and a few vestiges of it still
remain on either side of the river. It Avas a very
ancient construction, and led imraediately to the
house where Baretti dined. After the buUding of
the new bridge, proAious to its destruction, it must
seldom have been crossed, excepting by travellers
fi-om Plymouth on their road to Falmouth, a cfr
cumstance which induces me to conjecture that it
Avas standing when the Italian letter-writer visited-
tliis town, and that thus he found his way to tho
neglected inn.
" He is," continued the old Avoman, still speaking -
of the agent to Baretti, " all powerful here, and does
right and Avrong just as he lists ; nor can we get any
redress, as the justice himself stands in fear of him.
Sorae of the townsmen, who have been wronged by
the agent, as well as we, have gone severally to Lon
don to complain of him to the lord ; but never could
get admittance, because he is too great a man to
be spoke to by ordinary people ; besides that se
veral of his grace's servants are in the bashaw's
interest, and take care to stop all information.
Every body gives a good Avord to the lord, and says
that he Avould set all things to rights if he was
but apprised of Avhat is doing in this place*. To
=* So he did at last ; for Barretti adds, in a note, in a subsequent
edition of his work — " The complaint of the inhabitants, as I was
casually apprised since my return to England, have reached the peer,
and the agent has been turned out of his place."
n3

274 an old woman's story. [let.
distress me and my family, the agent wiU have
nothing further to do Arith any inhabitant who
comes to my inn; and he has it in his power to
harass many, and deny bread to many, haring, as I
said, the management of almost all the land in the
tei-ritory, and many of them being the lord's te
nants. Thus am I ruined," continued the old wo
man, " as I have no means of subsistence but such
chance travellers as you are, and the road from
Plymouth to Falmouth not much frequented. Not
a single glass of cider can I sell to any body de
pendent on that raan ; they all avoid me and my
house as if the plague Avas in it." On this cir
cumstance Baretti makes some just remarks, and
concludes thera thus : " No such laws can be thought
on by mortal legislators as perfectly to screen the
weak against the strong, or the poor against the
rich, especially when the subject of complaint is not
so great as to draAv the public attention, which is
generally the case in those many oppressions that
the little endure from the great. Innumerable are
the distresses that one part of mankind would heap
upon the other were it not for a law much higher
than any you can pass. That laAv you must aU
endeavour to inculcate to each other that it may
spread further and further; that alone wiU prove
powerful if you keep it ; but if you despise or neg
lect it, none else wUl be much conducive to the
suppression and extinction of petty tyi-anny. Thus
did I go on moralizing the whole afternoon, closely
shut up in ray chaise because ofthe rain. This inn
(at Horse Bridge where he wrote the letter) is the
last place in Devonshire. To-morrow I shall be in
Cornwall by break of day."

xxx.J old tales. 275
Having space left, and the epistle itself being of
a very misceUaneous nature, I propose finishing it
with some " disjointed chat" on matters I have col
lected in obedience to you; and that is the best
apology 1 can offer for sending what foUoAvs, Do
you remember a letter I had the pleasure of receiv
ing from Keswick, dated February Oth, 1832 ? I have
just taken it from a certain coUection, equally va
luable and prized by us, in a little old-fashioned
box, where, safe under lock and key, it rests secure
from aU autograph thieves. In the letter, to which
I aUude, there is this passage, that I here give in
case you shoiUd have forgotten it : — " Gather up all
the traditions you can, and even the nursery songs :
no one can tell of Avhat value they may prove to an
antiquary. The Danes have a coUection of such
traditions in two volumes — every local story, Avise
or siUy, that could be collected — and a very curious
book it is : my son and I are just coming to the end
of it in our lessons. There is matter enough in
such things for fancy and for reflection, to point a
moral, or work up into a poem, and not unfre
quently to elucidate soraething in the history of
former times. Mary ColUng may be a very usefiil
helpmate." And so Mary has been ; and by and bye
I shall give more than one proof of it, for I am now
going to tell some wonderful tales, that I hope you
wUl not find less so than those contained in the
Danish book, and not a whit less marvellous than
such as I have already told —
- of fairy elves,

Whose midnight revels by a forest side,
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees.
Or drearas he sees; while over head the moon
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale course."

276 OLD TALES. [lET.
My tales, however, now are anything but of a
Ughtsome character — they are of "midnight hags"
who do "deeds without a name." These have been
gleaned amongst the elders of Tavistock and its
ricinity, and are purely traditional ; but I do not
believe that I am the first gleaner, for I rather think
that a learned author, Joseph Glanrille, famous for
his " Booke on Wytches," has been beforehand with
me in Tavistock, and no Avonder. This country
was well known to him ; he was born at Plymouth
(I Avish it had been here, that I might have had to
Avrite his life), and was of a branch of the celebrated
Glanrille family of Kilworthy ; and I doubt not must
have been, from that circumstance, a frequent visit
ant in our town and neighbourhood, and there he
Avas no idle listener to old tales I wiU Avarrant.
Though it is some time since I saw his work, and I
expected to see the candles burn blue, and the cats
begin to dance, even like his oavu, Avhilst reading it ;
yet I have a very, very strong recollection of a cer
tain story of derilry in it so sirailar to one still told
by the elders of the place, that I cannot help be-
liering it is in substance the same, or founded on
the same. Had Glanville's book been comraon
here, I should have thought the good people had
borrowed this story from it to convert it into a tra
dition (for I have had experience, as wiU be told
anon, they can do such things noAV and then), but
from a very minute and lawyer-like sifting of eri
dence, I am disposed to acquit the Tavistock folk,
and to pronounce that Joseph GlanviUe did, even
what I ara now doing, pick their brains about their
old tales as ingeniuosly as he could to help out his
book. One advantage he had, Avhich I have not
had, he had seen the devU himself, I beUeve, and

xxx.] AN OLD WITCH. 277
was therefore more likely to be correctly informed in
all the most minute points of his history.
Now here foUoAVs the tale about Avhich I have
been talking, as it is told by our old people : —
An old witch, in days of yore, lived in this neigh
bourhood; and whenever she wanted money, she
Avould assume the shape of a hare, and Avould send
out her grandson to tell a certain huntsman Avho
lived hard by, that he had seen a hare sitting at
such a particular spot, for which he always received
the reward of sixpence. After this deception had
many times been practised, the dogs turned out, the
hare pursued, often seen, but never caught, a sports
man of the party began to suspect, in the language
of tradition, " that the devil was in the dance," and
there would be no end to it. The raatter Avas dis
cussed, a justice consulted, and a clergyman to
boot ; and it was thought that, however clever the
devil might be, law and church combined would
be more than a match for him. It was therefore
agreed that, as the boy was singularly regular in the
hour at Avhich he came to announce the sight of the
hare, all should be in readiness for a start the in
stant such information was given : and a neighbour
of the Avitch, npthing friendly to her, promised to
let the parties knoAv directly when the old woman
and her grandson left the cottage and went off to
gether ; the one to be hunted, and the other to set
on the hunt.
The news came, the hounds were unkennelled,
and huntsmen and sportsmen set off with surpris
ing speed. The Avitch, now a hare, and her little
colleague in iniquity, did not expect so very speedy
a turn out ; so that the game Avas pursued at a des-

278 AN OLD WITCH. [lET.
perate rate, and the boy, forgetting himself in a
moment of alarm, was heard to exclaim, "Run,
Granny, run ; run for your life ! " At last the pur
suers lost the hare, and she once more got safe into
the cottage by a little hole in the bottom of the
door; but not large enough to admit a hound in
chase. The huntsman, all the squires Avith their
train, lent a hand to break open the door, but could
not do it tiU the parson and the justice came up;
but as law and church Avere certainly designed to
break through iniquity, even so did they now suc
ceed in bursting the magic bonds that opposed
them. Up stairs they all went. There they found
the old hag bleeding, and covered with Avounds, and
stiU out of breath. She denied she was a hare, and
railed at the Avhole party. " CaU up the hounds,"
said the huntsman, " and let us see what they take
her to be; may be we may yet have another hunt."
On hearing this, the old woman cried quarter.
The boy dropt on his knees, and begged hard for
mercy — mercy vvas granted on condition of its being
received together vrith a good whipping; and the
huntsman, haring long practised amongst the
hounds, now tried his hand on thefr game. Thus,
the old Avoman escaped a worse fate for the time
present ; but on being afterwards put on her trial
for boAritching a young woman, and making her spit
pins, the tale just told was given as evidence
against her, before a particularly learned judge,
and a remarkably sagacious jury, and the old
woman finished her days, like a martyr, at the
stake. But our neighbourhood is much too rich in old
tales, to have merely one to tell about hounds and

XXX.] HEATHFIELD. 279
iritches. If the last is not sufficiently wonderful,
what think you of this ?
There is a place near our town caUed Heath-
field — a large, lone waste, gloomy and solitary, and
aU that — I wiU, however, spare you this tirae a grand
description, without promising always to be so con
siderate when that great temptation to Avriters oc
curs of shoAring "a fine style," and being very
mystical. Heathfield was then just such a place
as eril spirits delight in ; where if people really see
nothing, it is quite dreary and vast enough to fancy
they see a great deal, which, in these sort of cases,
is much the same thing. On Heathfield the derils
dance ; I do not know Avho is the piper, as we have
here no Tam o' Shanter to tell us ; but I suppose
the company are not without musicians ; and I have
sometimes thought they troubled our town bandj
and gave them a few hints in the " concord of sweet
sounds," sweet to those who like them, but marvel
lous harsh to all other ears.
Now, as the " old tale goes," there was once upon
a time (a mode of dating which aU tellers of such
tales as mine should never fail to employ, as it sets
aside any small cavils that might arise from those
awkward points in settUng real facts, that depend on
chronology) — once upon a time then, there was an
old woman (and who wiU deny a fact Uke that ?) and
she made a slight mistake, I do not know how, and
got up at midnight, thinking it to be morning. Had
she lived in London in our days, this would not
have happened, midnight, in that great city, being
the hour that both old and young go to bed. This
good woman mounted her horse, and set off, pan
niers, cloak and all, on her way to market. Anon

280 A YOUNG LADY AND THE HOUNDS. [lET.
she heard a cry of hounds, and soon perceived a
hare rapidly making towards her. The hare, how
ever, took a turn and a leap, and got on the top of
the hedge, as if it Avould say, " come, catch me," to
the old woman. She Uked such hunting as this
very weU, put forth her hand, secured the game,
and popped it into the panniers, covered it over, and
rode forward. She had not gone far, when great
was her alarm on perceiving in the midst of the dis
mal and solitary waste of Heathfield, advancing at
full pace, a headless horse, bearing a black and
grim rider, with horns sprouting from under a little
jockey cap; and having a cloven foot thrust into
one stirrup. He Avas surrounded by a pack of
hounds, thus noticed by Mary Colling in her letter,
printed in the little book, to her sister Anne,
" Of hounds on Heathfield seen to rise.
With horned heads aud flaraing eyes."
They had, according to tradition, tails too, that
whisked about and shone like fire, as the air itself
had a strong sulphurous scent. These were signs
not to be mistaken ; and the poor old AVoman knoAV
in a raoraent, that huntsman and hounds Avere taking
a ride from the regions beloAV. But it soon ap
peared that hoAvever clever the devil might be, he
Avas no conjurer ; for he very civilly asked the old
lady if she could set him right, and point out Avhich
way the hare Avas floAvn ? Probably she thought it
no harm to return the father of lies an answer in his
OAvn coin, so she boldly gave him a negative ; and he
rode on, nothing suspecting the cheat. When he
Avas out of sight, she soon perceived the hare in the
panniers began to move, when, to her utter amaze
ment, arose a beautiful young lady, all in white, who

XXX.] A YOUNG LADY AND THE HOUNDS. 281
thus addressed her preserver : — " Good dame, I ad
mire your courage ; and thank you for the kindness
Avith Avhich you have saved me from a state of suffer
ing that must not be told to human ears. Do not
start Avhen I tell you that 1 am not an inhabitant of
the earth. For a great crime comraitted during the
tirae I dAvelt upon it, I was doomed, as a punishraent
in the other Avorld, to be constantly pursued either
above or beloAV ground by evil spirits, until I could
get behind their tails, Avhilst they passed on in search
of me. This difficult object, by your means, I have
now happily eff'ected ; and as a roAvard for your Idnd-
ness, I promise that all your hens shall lay tAvo eggs
instead of one, and that your cows shall yield thei
most plentiful store of milk all the year round ; that
you shaU talk tAvice as much as you ever did before,
and your husband stand no chance in any matter
between you to be settled by the tongue. But be
ware of the deril, and don't grumble about tithes ;
for my eneray and yours raay do yoa an ill turn
when he finds out you were clever enough to cheat
even him ; since, like all great impostors, he does
not like to be cheated himself. He can assume all
shapes, excepting those of the lamb and the dove."
The lady in white vanished, as all such Avhite
ladies ought to do ; the old market-woman found
the best possible luck that morning in her traffic ;
and to this day the story goes in our toAvn, that
from the Saviour of the world haring hallowed the
form of the lamb, and the Holy Ghost that of the
dove, they can never be assumed by the mortal
enemy of the huinan race under any circumstances.
One other story or two about his Satanic majesty,
and I have done ; not doubting that those Avho are

282 STORIES OF THE DEVIL. [lET.
followers of the " Satanic-school " in prose or verse
wUl feel particularly obUged to me for these most
authentic records of the prince they serve ; though
possibly they may not extend his empfre quite so
much as then- own labours ; as my tales represent
the devU in no very sentimentalv ieAV, but rather tend
to show him unmasked. And now for another story.
Many years ago there Uved in this toAvn a cele
brated singer, belonging to the choir of our church ;
for Taristock church, I take this opportunity of say
ing, has been, and is still, very famous for its choir,
possessing a good organ to accompany the singers *.
This person was rather apt to take a cup too much
in the conrivial society of his friends. One night,
returning very tipsy frora the village of Horrabridge,
the donkey on Avhich he rode suddenly became frisky;
and to the utter dismay of his rider, set off" and ran
as never donkey ran before, leaping and kicking,
towards a certain spot, were tipsy Tom saw a com
pany of goblin spirits (and this is not unlike ' Tam
o' Shanter's' adventure) dancing and frisking all in
a ring. Having no mind to join the dance, Tom,
somewhat restored to his senses by terror, laid
about him most heartily, giving many a kick and
cuff to the beast's sides and ears, and eagerly ex
claimed, "Stop, Mr. Deril, stop, I say; I am a
* It would be a great oraission to narae the choir without some
particular mention of Miss Elizabeth Greco ; a young lady for whom
I entertain much esteem. If placed iu more fortunate circumstances
than those of vocalist in a country town, she would rank with the
first singers of her day, and would be an ornament to St. Paul's or
the Abbey. So rich and beautiful is her voice, so feeling and noble
her expression in the anthems of Handel, that it raises the mind
and aflfects the heart to listen to her. Since this note was written
Miss Elizaheth Greco has left Tavistock for Ireland.

XXX.] STORIES OF THE DEVIL. 283
righteous man, and a psalm-singer to boot in Ta-
¦ristock church; stop, or I'll give you such a stave
as shaU startle all the derils in hell." With that
Tom set up his pipes ; and the donkey sprite not en
during to hear such melody, which exceeded even his
own braying, sent the rider off" his back into the next
ditch, where he was found by a neighbour; and teU
ing his adventure, as an excuse for a black eye, he
received the honorary title of "psalm-singer to Old
Nick," aU the rest of his days.
Another story we have concerning his Satanic
majesty shoAVs him to be a great patron of fiddlers.
Whenever he appeared before any one of these, he
generally came in the shape of a gentleman, dressed
in black, Arith Avhite ruffles round his Avrists ; and he
nsuaUy made so Uberal a bargain that the sons of
harmony Avere much pleased vrith him ; till they now
and then happened to spy the cloven foot, a thing
which he, Uke many other gentlemen of fashion, had
no power to hide even in the best company.
Now, the story goes, that in the time of the monks,
a certain fiddler guessed with whom he had made
some such bargain, and went to consult one of those
ghostly brothers what he had best do for safety.
The monk told the fiddler to act like a raan of
honour, and always stick to a bargain though raade
with the deril himself; or he would be sure to suff'er
grievous things before the time came that the com
pact should expire. But if, in the interval, a little
coin Avas dropt to the brothers of the abbey, one of
them would take his stand, and drive off Satan when
he came to possess himself bodily of his prey. The
doAil generaUy agreed to raeet his fiddler in a nar-

284 STORIES OF THE DEVIL. [lET.
row lane; but Avhen he now found he could not nab
him, he exclaimed, aUuding to the monk stationed
in ambush near the spot — " 'Tis the blackbird be
hind the hedge that keeps thee safe, thou scraper of
old tunes, and foul railer against thy master. Know,
fiddler mine, and I tell it thee only because I cannot
help it, being compeUed to do so by the exorcisms
of the brethren uoav going on at the abbey — that
hadst thou never called for me, I had never ap
peared. But look to thyself, friend, and blame not
me. Has it not ever been with thee, when thou
wast angry, in mirth, in sadness, in bargaining or in
liquor ; ' I Arish the deril did this ; ' or, ' I Avish the
devil had me;' or, 'I vrish the devil were here.'
Devil here and devil there ; and yet now is he un
welcome company. Go home, tune thy fiddle, play
my lord abbot a psalm ; leave off profane SAvearing,
and obey the monks, not failing to give them their
dues, and fear no more dog nor devil for the nonce."
Is not this story like one of the Old Moralities ?
May it not be a vestige of one of thera, well known
here in those days when the inhabitants of the mo
nastery and the choir of the church acted holy plays ?
Indeed, till Arithin the last thirty years, the boys
of this town, so I am informed, used every Christmas
to act a standing old play, handed down by tradi
tion, called the Dying Miller. Father Christmas
was one of the characters, the Noav Year another,
and St. George performed sundry feats of valour.
Mary Colling has A'ery kindly exerted herself to try
if she could recover for me any of the traditionary
doggrel assigned to the parts in this piece; some
foAV lines of Avhich she could remember having heard

XXX.] STORIES OF THE DEVIL. 285
when a child. But hitherto we have not succeeded; '
though many of the elders remember the characters,
and the style in which they drest them.
The most modern story I have heard of Satan is,
that a youth of this neighbourhood Avent into the
woods to pick nuts on a Sunday; and the devil,
pleased to see him so employed instead of going to
church, Idndly gave him assistance, and pulled down
the bushes for him. The lad thought himself
highly favoured, tUl he perceived the cloven foot;
Avhen he instantly quitted the Avood, but soon after
died. "This story," says Mary, "is still told by
mothers to thefr little boys to prevent their break
ing the sabbath."
I now come to the vestiges of our ancient customs ;
these having been gleaned by Mary and myself, but
principally by her, amongst the good old folks ofthe
town and neighbourhood. They are for the greater
part fast wearing out, and two or three generations
hence it is probable few traces may be left of their
existence. Brand quotes a passage from Moresin, that tends
to show that in ancient times, at the festival of
St. Valentine, men made presents to the women, as
the AVomen did to the men at other seasons. We
have a vestige of this custom not altogether extinct ;
for on St. Valentine's day a young woman soraetimes
thus addresses the first young man she raeets : —
" Good morrow, Valentine, I go to-day.
To wear for you what you must pay,
A pair of gloves next Easter day."
And new gloves are generally sent on Easter eve by
the young man Avhom any fair damsel may have
selected to make her such a present by thus inriting

286 HOLIDAY SPORTS. [lET.
him to do it. It is not, however, I am told, very
common to send the gloves, unless there is a little
sweethearting in the case.
Washing clothes on a Good Friday is Arith us
considered a great sin ; and productive of the Avorst
luck. Whoever does so is sure to wash away one of
their famUy, who vrill die before the year is out. To
wean children on this day is deemed very lucky.
Many people then begin to till thefr gardens, as they
beUeve, to use their own words, that aU things put
in the earth on a good Friday wUl grow goody, and
retm-n to them Arith great increase.
Shrove Tuesday is a noted day in our town,
though not so much kept as it used to be many
years ago. The farmers considered it a great holi
day, and every person who was in thefr employ
feasted on pancakes. The great sport of the day
was to assemble round the ffre and each person to
toss a cake before he had it for his supper. The
awkwardness of the tossers, who were compelled to
eat their share, even if it fell into the fire itself,
aff"orded great diversion. Lent-crocking is a simUar
sport, and is stiU here and there practised in some of
the old houses in the country. Pairties of young
persons would during Lent go to the most noted
farm-houses, and sing, in order to obtain a crock
(cake), an old song beginning
"I see by the latch
There is something to catch ;
I see by fhe string
The good dame's within ;
Give a cake, for I've none ;
At the door goes a stone,
Come give, and I'm gone."
If invited in, a cake, a cup of cider, and a health

XXX.] OMir;OUS DAYS. 287
foUowed. If not inrited in, the sport consisted in
battering the house door Arith stones, because not
open to hospitality. Then the assailant would run
aAvay, be foUowed and caught, and brought back
again as prisoner, and had to undergo the punish
ment of roasting the shoe. This consisted in an
old shoe being hung up before the fire, which the
culprit was obliged to keep in a constant whirl,
roasting himself as well as the shoe, tUl some damsel
took compassion on him and let him go ; in this case
he was to treat her Arith a little present at the next
fafr. It is here said, that if a young woman, on Mid
summer-day, plucks a full-blown rose, blindfolded,
while the chimes are playing twelve, and folds it up
in a sheet of white paper, and does not open it till
Christmas day, it wiU then be found as fresh as when
gathered; and if she places it in her bosom, the
young man to whom she is to be married wiU come
and snatch it away.
The poor people here have raany superstitious
ideas about the days of the week. To begin to do
anything on a Friday, or to make a journey, or a
bargain on that day, is held such bad luck, that I
have known persons, even of the better order, put off
an affafr beca'use they would not enter on it with an
Ul omen.
The fortunes of children are Ukevrise considered
to be very much regulated by the day on which they
were born. Here is a poetical adage on the subject
common in our toAvn : —
" Monday's child is fair in face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,

288 HOLIDAY SPORTS. [lET.
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for its living ;
And a child that 's born on a Christmas day,
Is fair aud wise, good and gay."
The 29th of May is still a holiday much observed
in our toAvn, though, I am told, far less so than it
used to be some years back. A notion prevailed
that, on that day, any person might cut oak boughs
Avherever he pleased, provided it Avas done before six
o'clock, and the youths and maidens Avould rise Avith
the light to prepare for the sports. These oak
boughs Avere hung around the doors and windows ;
and chaplets, &c, duly placed in bonnets and hats.
In the afternoon, a mock battle followed, (originally
intended, as far as I can coUect, to represent the
republican and monarchical parties,) the combatants
of Avhich, on the royal side, were armed with kettles
and buckets of Avater, The republicans proceeded
to tear doAvn the oak boughs from the doors and
Avindows : and these assailants were well drenched
Avhilst a scuffle ensued — all carried on with the ut
most good humour — and if the young men succeeded
in getting the boughs, they used to tie them toge
ther and drag them through the town in token of
Aictory ; but Avere generally Avaylaid and dispossessed
of their trophies by the opposite party. The inha
bitants Avould give them pence to make merry with
after their frolic,
HoAVOA'er, during one of these frolics, about thirty
years ago, rather an unpleasant affair took place
from the following circumstance. This ricinity was
a great depot for French prisoners ; and sorae of the
officers lodged in the town. Opposite a house where
one of thera resided, Avas erected a grand display of
oak boughs and May bushes on the top of a long

XXX.J HOLIDAY SPORTS. 289
pole. Some mischievous individual persuaded the
foreigner that it was a part of the sports for some
person, as a good joke, to remove it, and persuaded
Monsieur to perform the feat. He, thinking no
harm, did so, when a stout old fellow, a true John
BuU, who lived near, seeing this act committed by
the Frenchman, considered it a premeditated insult
to the royal family of England, as the oak boughs
Avere suspended in honour of the restoration to the
croAvn. Fired with rage, he sallied forth armed Avith
a poker, and commenced so vigorous an assault on
the poor foreigner, that had not the more peaceably
disposed interfered and made up matters, he Avould
very likely have left the luckless offender scarcely a
Avhole bone in his skin. Amongst the little boys,
this day goes by the narae oi garland day*. Before
it arrives, the children go about in parties, six or
seven together, halfing, as they call it. This custom
is nothing raore than to collect as raany birds' eggs
as they can against garland day ; and all the neigh
bours, high or low, who happen to be possessed of a
garden, are duly teazed and laid under contribution
to give away their flowers to make trophies. The
garlands are carried about thus formed — :two crossed
hoops are entArined Avith flowers, and strung with
birds' eggs in the middle; every egg being held
allowable, save that of the redbreast; if such is
discovered in a garland it is quickly assailed with
stones and destroyed. Very few children in this
* I have now and then heard garlands called by the old name
Coronets, in Devonshire. We have here still in common use many
obsolete words ; such as barm for yeast ; Glome, earthenware ; Hei-
Her, slater; Helling, roof; Slock, to entice; Distraught, and mazed
mad ; IVorsen, to render worse, &c., and indeed sufficient to supply a
long list of old words.
VOL. 11. O

290 HOLIDAY SPORTS. [lET.
town would hurt a redbreast, as it is considered
unlucky to do so ; this bird being entitled to kind
ness from the human race above every other bird
that flies, Mary CoUing thinks it is held thus
sacred from the sympathy excited for it by that most
beautiful of all ballads, ' The Children in the Wood ;'
where the redbreast covers the poor little things
with leaves. But I am rather disposed to think
that in the ballad the robin is assigned, by the
poet, to perform that charitable office in consequence
of his tenderness and sympathy for man ; as, of all
birds, robin is most confiding and fearless in his
approaches towards us ; he comes familiarly to our
doors ; he will not hesitate to enter our dwellings,
and may be tamed to pick crumbs from our hands.
The peasantry here have a most uncouth name for
tlus pretty bird ; they call it pausty-legs. I could
not guess even what this name meant, tUl Mr.
Johnes told me it Avas intended for posty-legs, or
legs like a post.
To return from this digression : the little boys
are fantastically dressed early in the morning Arith
ribands tied round their arras and Avaists, and a smart
garland cap on their heads, made of pasteboard,
decorated Arith gold paper, and Uttle prints with
a gUt border, finished Arith oak leaves intermixed.
Thus equipped, they parade about the town, each
little party by itself; the leader, Avho is generally the
eldest boy, carries the garland. Others have httle
drums, and Avhistles, and swords of lath ; a triangle
is their music : they coUect the donations of the
public ; and in the afternoon it is equally dirided
among thera. The garland eggs are placed on some
block or post ; and their great amusement is to throw

XXX.] ANCIENT SUPERSTITIONS. 291
stones, and try Avho can break the most. This is
our Taristock Avay of celebrating King Charles's
Restoration, amongst the younger tribe. The elders
go to church, and Mr, Bray annually gives them an
appropriate sermon.
We have here many vestiges of andent super
stitions. That respecting Midsummer eve I have
before noticed. And the very old custom of going
into the church at night whilst the chimes are playing
twelve o'clock, in order to creep three tiraes under
the communion table to be cured of fits, is still held
in repute. The present sexton, Mr. James Cole,
has been applied to in such cases to unlock the
church door. Mr. Bray considers this custom a
vestige ofthe A'ery ancient one of creeping under the
Tolmen to be cured of various disorders.* We have
another practice, which I am assured is frequently
observed as a cure for the tooth-ache : a very general
complaint in this neighbourhood, where it is common
to see young women with not a sound front tooth
in their heads ; and many a handsome face is thus
spoilt and looks old before its time. I attribute
this to the use of a very acid cider as a daily beve
rage ; nor do I think I am mistaken ; as the decay
of the teeth, so early in life, is most common Arith the
servant girls and lower orders, Avho never drink any
thing else Arith their meals ; whUst some of the very
* Since writing the above, Mr. Bray received, as clergyman of the
place, the following letter: I orait only the name of the writer —
" Rev. Sir, I should take it as a great favour if your Honour would be
good enough to let me have the key of the churchyard to-night, to go
in at twelve o'clock, to cut off three bits of lead about the size of a half
fa,rthing ; each from three different shuts (meaning spouts), for the
cure of fits. Sir, I reraain your humbled obedient servant,
' " Tavistock, February 2d, 1835. (Signed) J. M,"
o2

292 ANCIENT SUPERSTITION.?. [lET.
poor cottagers in the surrounding country, Avho
seldom taste anything stronger than water, or milk
and water, often have teeth Avhite and sound as pearls.
Here is the cure for the tooth-ache : if the sufferer
have a tooth left sufficiently whole to enable him to
use it. " Take an old skull found in the churchyard,
bite a tooth out of it, and keep it in your pocket all
the year round, and never more will you have pain
in your teeth or gums."
I have copied this delectable receipt as given to
me ; and only this very day, had I not been too lazy
to stir from my room, I raight have had the gratifi
cation of seeing a scrarable after old teeth in a skull.
For Miss EUzabeth Greco (of whora I spoke just
now in the note) had a iicav piece of music Avhich she
thought I should like, and very Idndly came to play
and sing it to me ; she asked me if I kneAV Avhat Avas
going on in the churchyard, so many persons, old
and young, were thronging- to it. Scarcely had she
spoken, Avhen Mary Colling came running- in, and
said if I wanted to see an old custom she had told
me of, I had only to go to the churchyard, for several
skulls having, in making a grave, been dug up near
the reraains of Orgar's tomb, there was going on
such a scene as she had never before vritnessed :
men and Avomen tugging Avith their mouths at every
tooth they could find left to cure them. I felt quite
satisfied, however, Avitli her report, and Miss Eliza
beth and the piano being a much greater attraction
did not stir frora the fire-side.
Our terror of meeting a single magpie crossing
our path is very great. Sad must be the fortune of
any person who has this mishap — sad I am sure
then must be mine ; for the last I called magpie

XXX.] ANCIENT SUPERSTITIONS. 293
year ; never once did we ride, Avalk, or drive along
the Plj'mouth road, a favourite ride of ours, with
out meeting a solitary magpie strutting or flying
most ominously across the road. Now and then
Ave saAv a couple, Avhich is good luck; once three, a
sign of a Avedding ; and once four, a sign of death.
We have a thistle that is considered holy. I do
not know its particular species ; but the plant itself
is noble and beautiful. One of them, above five feet
in height, sprang up Avildly in our garden in the
midst of a strawberry bed. It had a large purple
flower, and the steins and leaves spread to a A'ery
great extent. So rauch did Mr. Bray adraire it, that
he Avould not suffer it to be disturbed. This plant is
valuable in a raedicinal riew ; the old Avomen here
say it is a cure for all disorders ; and when I Avas so
ill last summer, more than one wanted to persuade
me to make a decoction and try it. On the leaves of
this thistle there are Avhite specks, Avhich I learn from
the venerable authority just quoted, is occasioned
by the Virgin Mary having sprinkled her milk on
this very plant during her flight into Egypt. This
conferred a blessing on the thistle and made it sa
lutary for ever.
I here say nothing about the "thousand and one"
charms Ave have in this county for curing the king's
eril ; some of them being as delicately pleasing as
the cure for the tooth-ache ; let them go ; the least
offensive, however, is that of Queen Anne's farthing,
a stale and common charm in many counties.
Reading the eighth psalra over the heads of in
fants three times three days in the Aveek, for three
following weeks, will, they say, prevent babes hav
ing the thi-ush. Another very old custom prevails

294 SUPERSTITIOUS USAGES. [lET.
amongst the poor, that of unlocking their boxes
in the house Avhere a friend is dying : they con
sider it makes the sick person die easy.
As we have unlucky omens, so have we likewise
lucky ones. The sun shining on the bride going to
church is particularly fortunate. It is fortunate,
also, to see the noAV moon on the right hand ; and
when you do so, it is a prudent thing to shake your
pockets : for what purpose I cannot tell ; but as it is
likcArise deemed Arisdom to puU out your money
and let the iicav moon shine upon it, I suppose it is
connected Avith good fortune in a pecuniary point of
view. Another of our customs is not, I believe, confined
to this place ; it is that of the Bible and the key.
Many old people Avhen they have lost anything,
and suspect it to be stolen, take the fore-door key
of their dwelling, and, in order to find out the thief,
tie this key to the Bible, placing it very carefully
on the eighteenth verse of the fiftieth psalra. Two
persons raust then hold up the book by the bow of
the key, and first repeat the name of the suspected
thief, and then the verse fi-om the psalm. If the
Bible moves, the suspected person is considered
guilty ; if it does not move, innocent. Mary CoUing
tells me she has very gravely seen this done, as an
infallible test of finding out the truth.
When the poor get a loaf frora the flour of new
corn, the first Avho gets it gives a raouthful, as they
say, to his or her neighbour, and they fill their
mouths as full as they can in order not to Avant
bread before the harvest comes round again.
Mary informs me that one day when herself and
her little dog Dimpler took a walk into the country

XXX.] A SUBTERRANEAN PASSAGE. 295
very loringly together, she happened to pass by a
cottage and garden. Pleased with the neatness
and prettiness of the spot, she stayed awhile to look
on the flowers. A poor woraan, seeing- she did so,
carae out, asked her to Avalk in, and gave her a
very pretty nosegay. Mary observed in the cottage
window several beautiful plants, each having a small
piece of black crape or riband tied around it. She
inquired what might be the reason of their being
so decorated. When the poor woman told her,
vrith a sigh, that she had very lately buried her
husband, and if she had not put the plants into
mourning they would have died too. Mary was
much affected by the distress she evidently saw put
ting these questions had given the poor widoAV, and
said she was sorry she had asked about the plants.
But the widow told her not to grieve for that ; the
question was natural enough for one who came from
a toAvn, but the custom was a usual thing in the
country. There is much talk in this place about a myste
rious and subterranean passage (I should like to
find it out), that leads all the Avay from the Abbey
to the gateway of Fitz-ford. A great deal of Avealth
in coin and plate, including, as I was told, "a cru
cifix as large as life," being there deposited. Mary
heard an old woman say that she was told by her
great-grandmother, that during the civil wars a
waggon load of plate was carried in there, and never
afterwards brought out. An inhabitant of this
town, I am likewise informed, once discovered,
whUst rooting up an apple-tree at Fitz-ford, some
steps; and digging stUl deeper, found an entrance
which led under ground. Several persons went

296 A SUBTERRANE.'iN PASSAGE, [lET,
doAvn, but none presumed to follow up the discovery
as it ought to have been foUoAved, I hCar, also
(but pray observe I do not vouch for the truth of
any of these tales), that a man naraed Bickley, AvhUst
eraployed in raising sand in a place called Jessop's
Hay, dug up, as he imagined, a bag of fine sand,
which proved to be a bag of gold dust. He also
discovered a paveraent supposed to be that of the
passage. Every body, I observe, has a tale to tell
about this old passage; but question thera closely,
and you are sure to find they heard it frora some
body, who heard it from somebody else, and so on —
a sort of evidence to be cautiously admitted in a
statement of facts.
That there was a passage, however, belonging to,
or connected Avith, the Abbey, is not at all impro
bable ; and if I Avere inclined to csedit any of the
aboA'e stories, it Avould be the old woman's about
the plate. Because, as I shall relate when we come
to the times of Charles the First, Fitz-ford house Avas
bravely held out by the royalists, and taken by storm
by the Parliament party. The prisoners Avere not
likely to point out to sequestrators and republicans
where they had hidden the wealth, probably of all
the royalists in the toAvn, who had taken shelter in
Fitz-ford, and assisted in the defence of that man
sion; and time, death, and many other chances
might, in such perils, have intervened to prevent its
recovery. More of this hereafter,
I was about to conclude this long " and very pithy "
letter (as a good friend of mine calls the stibjects
on AA'hich I have been Avriting), vvhen Mary Colling,
who always acts as her own postman, brought me
one written by herself, in reply to some questions

XXX,] MARY COLLING's LETTER. 297
I had proposed to her, about certain places, &c., in
our toAvn. I shall here, therefore, transcribe a por
tion of her letter, as it avUI give you a fair speciraen
of her prose style. Many are the authors and au
thoresses of this day Avho, fi-om not being, like Mary,
content to follow nature, and to wi-ite as they Avould
talk, produce a less pleasing mode of expression
than the foUoAving. "TO MRS. BRAY.
" My dear Madam,
" On the south side of the Tavy is a hamlet
consisting of several cottages, called in the parish
register Dolrins, but better known to the inhabit
ants by the name of Guernsey, that nick-name
having been given to it in consequence of a very
noted smuggler who resided there sorae years ago.
At a little distance eastward is another hamlet,
called Greenland, from its cold situation ; the sun
seldom shines upon it, as it is overhung Avith a very
high rock Avhence issue several springs of water;
and during the Arinter the icicles (or, as the Uttle
boys call them, the cockables) which hang from it,
are looked upon as a great curiosity, from their size
and transparency. The Exeter road, opposite this
hamlet, affords a picturesque riew of the bright
stream of Avater from the rock which dashes into
your favourite Tavy. Near is a rookery and an
orchard, that in summer adds to the beauty of the
scene. The Arild floAvers, Avhich there grow in abun
dance, have also a pretty appearance ; and though
the place is considered so cold, there is a very good
garden that abounds with various sorts of floAvers.
o3

298 MARY colling's letter. [let.
The female who resides in a neat cottage attached
to it, takes great pride in her garden, every corner
of it having a something to boast of.
"In reply to the question about the haunted
house, I have learned the follovring particulars.
About half a mile from Taristock there is a farm
called DoAvn House, the dweUing itself was rebuilt
about eleven or twelve years ago. It Avas con
sidered before an ancient place, and haunted by
ghosts. Here is a story of one. The family who
resided there well kneAV the hour of the night in
which the ghosts raade their appearance, and always
took care to go to bed before it came. But it hap
pened on a time that a chUd Avas very ill, and asked
its mother for Avatcr ; she Avent to the pitcher to get
some, when the child refused any but such as might
be got dfrectly fi-om the pump. The mother be
carae quite distressed, unvrilling to displease the
child, yet afraid to go down to the pump, as it Avas
about the hour in Avhich the ghost walked. She
considered upon it a little while, and the child stUl
continuing very anxious about the water, she at last
said, ' In the name of God I avUI go down.' She
did so. Passing over the stairs she perceived a
shadoAV, and then she heard footsteps; and when
she came to the pump she felt a hand on her shoul
der. She turned and perceived a tall raan. Sum
moning a good resolution, hoAvevcr, she said, 'In
the name of God, Avhy troublest thou me?' The
ghost replied, 'It is weU for thee that thou hast
spoken to me in the name of God ; this being the
last time aUotted me to trouble this world, or else I
should haA'e injured thee. Now do as I teU thee.

XXX.] story of lady HOWARD. 299
and be not afraid. Corae with rae and I AviU direct
thee to a soraething Avhicli shall reraove this pump :
under it is concealed treasure.'
" This sometlUng was procured, and applied as the
ghost directed. The pump was qmckly reraoved,
when under it there lay a great deal of money.
She was desired to take up the treasure and stock
her farm Avith it. And the spirit told her that if
ever any person molested or deprived her of her
property, he should suffer Avell for it. He then or
dered her to go and give the water to the child,
who, in reward for her courage and trust in God,
should recover. The cock crew ; directly the figure
dwindled again to a shadow, ascended through the
air, and she Avatched till he soon became a small
bright cloud." 
" There is," says Mary Colling, in another letter,
" scarcely an old man or AVoman in Tavistock but
can tell sorae story or other about your Lady How
ard. Some have seen her in the shape of a calf;
others as a wool-sack full of eyes, rolling along from
Fitz-ford. But most have seen her as a greyhound,
and very often in the coach of bones, as described by
you in Fitz of Fitz-ford, This story is frequently told
of her : Two servant girls, whose sweethearts came
one Sunday evening to see them, being informed
they intended to get up early the foUoAring morn
ing to washing, offered to corae to the house, at the
hour named, for company. The servants were very
glad of this, as the house was so haunted, according
to report. The young men, anxious to fulfil their
promise, determined to get up early. One heard
Taristock chimes play at twelve o'clock and con
cluded it was four. He arose, awoke his com-

300 STORY OF LADY HOWARD. [lET.
panion, and they went together to Fitz-ford. When
they came there, the doors being open and the fires
all lighted, they thought that the servants Avere gone
up stairs to prepare the clothes, &c. They agreed
upon playing a trick, and got under the stairs in
order to frighten the maids. Soon after they heard
footsteps, and, peeping out cautiously, they saw tAvo
very large black dogs, Avith eyes as big as saucers,
and fiery tongues, Avhich hung out of their mouths.
The young men thought at all events they had best
remain quiet, which they did till cock-croAving ; Avhcn
directly the dogs vanished, the fires Avent out, and
the doors instantly closed. Soon after the servants
came doAvn stairs, and on hearing this story became
so alarmed that they determined to quit Fitz-ford.
But on recollecting they were each the first-born of
their parents, they felt they Avere safe ; as it is said
that no Avitch, ghost, or pixy can injure the first
born child. They became, therefore, reconciled to
the place."
Thus ends Mary Colling's account, and ray letter
too, haring sent quite enough hobgoblins for one
packet ; and lest the post-office should be troubled,
and complain to Sir Frauds Frecling if I send more,
I AvUl conclude with vrishing you may be, my dear
Sir, ghost-free all your days, saving from a few
Aisits of Sir Thomas More, the renoAval of Avliose
' Colloquies ' in the library of Keswick, would be a
very desirable event for the public, and in which no
individual of that body would feel a greater in
terest than your
Very gratefully obliged,
And most faithful servant,
Anna E. Bray.

XXXI.] 301

LETTER XXXI.
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

Contents. — Old house in the neighbourhood — Superstitions about
it — Allusions to Baretti — Reflections on the decay of greatness —
Old buildings — Kilworthy ; huilt by the Glanviile family temp.
Elizabeth — The old raansion and its present state described — The
hall, the gardens and terraces — .\venue of old heech-trees — One
spot peculiarly beautiful ; now called the Pixies' Pool — Devonshire
Rysdael, Mr. John Hitchins^ — Kilworthy hill, the ascent rugged
and steep — Fine view frora the heights — Custom of cutting down
the trees in hedges injurious to the landscape — Suffered to grow in
them near Exeter — -Walla Brook — Ina's Coomhe — Browne and
Carrington ; their poetry quoted — Judge Glanviile ; a sketch of
his life given — His tomb in Tavistock church — Effigies of himself
and lady — Remarks on each — A philosopher's opinion of women
not always to be credited — All fhe real history of Judge GlanviUe
concluded ; the traditionary stated — Whence derived — Fictions by
the writer in the novel of Fitz of Fitz-ford, now told in Tavistock
as traditions — This error corrected — The real traditions ou which
the work was founded given — Copy of a letter hy Mr. Bray to the
late Mr. Daniel Lysons, giving the striking traditionary tale of
Judge Glanviile and his daughter — The first idea, and plan of
grounding on this a tale of romance — Character of Betsy Grirabal ;
on what founded — Lady Howard, a character — The gateway at
Fitz-ford, the spectre hound — The coach of hones — Tales of super
stition, by whom credited — The writer goes to Fitz-ford to recon
noitre — The plot of the tale formed on the spot — The hound named
— Mr. Lewis, jun,, his sketch of the blood-hound — Character of
Levi the jew, suggested by an acquaintance with an honest Israelite
— Attempt to depict him in the novel — The story of John Fitz, of
Fitz-ford, the lawyer and astrologer, and Sir Nicholas Slanniug,
given exactly as found in Prince's " Worthies of Devon," Their
epitaph — How far the novel follows the story, and where it deviates
— Sir John Page, said to have married a daughter of Glanviile ;
Sir John a merchant of Plymouth — -His house in that town — When
pulled down — Page's coffin found and opened — Curiosity of the
populace to see it — No authority but that of tradition in support of

302 CONTENTS, [let,
the truth of the very striking incident related of Judge GlanviUe
and his daughter — The tradition probably arose from some con
fusion about the story of Judge Hody and his son, as related hy
Prince — Lamentable tragedy of Page of Plymouth ; a drama,
temp, Elizabeth — ^Another interesting tale respecting a son of Judge
Glanviile, mentioned by Prince — Sketch of the life of Sir John
Glanviile, Serjeant at law — His birth and education — Reraoves to
Lincoln's Inn — Returned as burgess for Plymouth — Becoraes
Serjeant at law, and Speaker of the House of Coraraons — His worthy
conduct in the House — Is knighted by the king — His enemies
cause his sufferings — Glanviile distinguished in the committee
respecting subsidies — Hampden, seeing the temper of the House
adverse to the king, calls for the " Question" — Serjeant Glanville's
meritorious conduct and speech on the occasiou — He produces a
powerful effect on the House — His allusions to the ship-money
cause offend the court — Dissolution of Parliament — Feeling of
different parties npon it — Imprudence of the king in that disso
lution — Civil war declared — GlanviUe follows the fortunes of the
persecuted king at Oxford — He is created doctor of civil law in the
Convocation, 1643 — Glanviile pronounced a desperate malignant ;
he is seized and committed to prison — Not released till 1648 — His
estates fined — Glanviile six times a prisoner in the course of his
life — University of Oxford return hira as their burgess — Cromwell
will not allow him to sit in the House — He pleads as a lawyer,
and at his own peril, the cause of fhe loyalists — GlanviUe, the first
friend of Sir Matthew Hale — Araiable character of GlanviUe — The
beautiful story of Glanville's conduct to his brother Francis related
— Francis knighted by Charles II  He marries a daughter of 
Cryraes, Esq, of Devon — Death of the great Sir John Glanviile —
Buried at Broad Hinton — The estate of Kilworthy eventually
passed to fhe family of Manaton, in defa-ult of male issue — Manu
script sent to the writer whilst engaged on his life — A charity there
recorded bestowed by him to send a poor boy from Tavistock
to the University — Glanviile fhe friend of learning — His works
political — Some of his speeches preserved in Rushworth — His lines
to Browne the poet — The sons of the Serjeant distinguished — John,
a counsellor at law — Francis, another son, a youth of the greatest
promise ; joins the royal cause, and after the most gallant conduct
falls at Bridgwater, 1645 — Joseph GlanviUe, chaplain in ordinary to
Charles I, — Some account of him — ^The last descendant of the elder
branch of this illustrious family died a few years ago in the poor-
house of Bradstone — Sir John Maynard born in Tavistock — His
family — His early life ; conduct in the tirae of Charles I. — His
integrity ; a true friend to the Protestant Church — Member for

XXXI,] KILWORTHY. 303
Beer Alston — Little known of his private life — His charities and
worth — His reply to King WiUiara when above ninety years old 
His death — No traditions of hira in Tavistock.

Vicarage, Tavistock, January 28th, 1833.
My dear Sir,
There is an old house and domain in this
neighbourhood, which has often set me moraUzing,
as did Baretti, when shut up in his post-chaise, on
the rainy afternoon he drove frem Taristock to
Horse Bridge. There are so raany recollections of
former tiraes, of old tales and traditions connected
with the domain in question, that it is the finest
place possible for the indulgence of imagination;
and though, as you will presently find, you are not
altogether a stranger to it, yet I purpose in this
letter to make you still more intimately acquainted
with the localities of Kilworthy ; nor shall I let you
off till Judge GlanviUe, the founder of the mansion,
and his sons and his grandsons have passed in suc
cession before you ; even as did the ghosts before
Macbeth in the cave of the witches ; nor raust you
suppose this to be by any raeans an inappropriate
simile ; for if you did not really see these shadows of
the mighty, of former generations, in our parish of
Tavistock, you might see thera (if report speaks
truth), which is much the same thing, by only risit
ing Kilworthy at the dead hour of night, " the bell
then beating one," when " churchyards yawn, and
graves give up their dead." It is undoubtedly true
that though I have heard a great deal about the
"walking of the old Judge," I never yet had the
pleasure to meet him. Possibly, however, this may
arise from no want of civility on his part towards me

304 KILWORTHY. [lET.
who have already made him figure in print, but may
rather be the consequence of the peculiar circum
stances attending my birth ; for having had the good
fortune to be born on Christmas-day, my old nurse
used to teU me when a child, " I could never see a
ghostie as long as I lived," all persons so born
being ghost-free to the end of their days.
Thus, therefore, you find I am reduced to the
necessity of giving you all my stories of this nature
on the credit of others, and not on that of my own
eyes ; a thing I deem a great misfortune, because
sometimes when people are good enough to tell rae
a foAV " real facts," that somcAvhat startle my belief,
I am so mistrustful and incredulous to Avish for
ocular demonstration. Of these real facts I shall
have a few to tell b)' and bye, Avhen we come to a
chapter on the Avonderful ; but at present Ave are
about to visit Kilworthy; and though it is the most
delightful place for a ramble, especially in Gam-
marby Avood, yet I must here keep straight on, or
there Avill be no end to this letter ; a beginning,
middle, and ending being as necessary, I presume,
in observing the unities in a letter as in any other
description of composition. Here then follows ray
beginning, and as we are but yet, like Baretti, on the
way, it shall be somewhat in his moralizing strain ;
and that will do for a preface.
There is a melancholy feeling which constantly
assails us when we witness the decay of greatness,
either in animate or inanimate things ; ever accom
panied by that humiliating reflection so often made
the raoral of tomb-stones and monuments — Sic
transit gloria mundi. How fully do Ave experience
this feeling Avhen Ave look upon the walls of some old

XXXI.] KILWORTHY. 305
but once stately mansion falling to decay, or patched
and supported by meaner buildings, wholly incon
gruous in date and appearance vrith the original
edifice ! And though nature and art agree very well
together, where they have been purposely combined,
yet this is not the case where the former breaks in
upon the latter Avith a desolating hand. Thus, when
in an old-fashioned garden Ave see the hedges of box
and of yew that once Avere trimmed and clipped into
order and formality, now growing ragged and Avild ;
the long avenues left between thera choked up Avith
brambles and Aveeds ; Avhilst many a stately terrace
of hewn stone presents the mere wreck of fallen
greatness ; its steps green, tottering, broken, and
half covered with creeping plants; — the aspect of
the Avliole is so cheerless, that it calls up in the mind
nothing but a sense of the vanity and littleness of
the works of man in these adornments of his domestic
habitation. Such are the feelings I have more than once
experienced when risiting the now humbled remains
of Kilworthy, once the splendid mansion of the
GlanviUes, a family long distinguished in Devon :
the house Avas built by them in the reign of Eliza
beth. This structure partook of that combination of
heavy and clumsy ornament common to the period,
yet rendered imposing by the grandeur that cha
racterized the original proportions of the building to
Avhich it was appended. The front of Kilworthy (I
speak of what it was, not Avhat it is), facing the south,
displayed many a window, dirided in the midst by
mulUons, so large and broad that they not a little
obscured the light the windows were intended to
admit.

306 KILWORTHY. [lET.
A smaU tower, not unlike the top of a pepper
box, stood at either end of the building, that was
itself surmounted by a lugh and slanting roof. Along
the front the parapet Avas embattled, and a noble
cluster of chiraneys rose to a considerable height,
and displayed thefr ornaraented caps far above every
other part of the building. A projecting porch stood
before the principal entrance ; over the outward door
of Avhich appeared, carved in stone, the arms of
GlanviUe : three crosses, in the form of that called
St. Andrew's, in the language of heraldry, three
saltier s or, on a field azure. The date of the
buUding Avas beneath, likewise carved in stone.
Sueh was KUworthy ; but it no longer appears in
its original form. It underwent considerable altera
tions in the reign of Charles II., and, lastly and
still worse, in that of George III., Avhen, nearly sixty
years since, the front was entirely modernized. In
a long passage of the house, as weU as in one of its
chambers, may stUl be seen a vast number of paint
ings on panel, representing, in succession, the arms,
alliances, &c., of the family of Glanrille, for many
generations. The hall, though now but a vestige
of what it once was, shows enough to indicate its
former grandeur : it was originally lofty — it is now
low, and divided by a partition. The hall Avas
panelled on either side Arith oak, and had a fire
place large enough to contain several persons Arithin
its ample sides. I can fancy Avhat it was in the
Judge's .time, when the dogs or andirons, that sup
ported the blazing logs, were, no doubt, finished at
their tops Avith solid and chased silver. The re
cesses stiU seen in the hall must have been a more
modern construction, since neither these, nor the

XXXI.] KILWORTHY. 307
gilded Corinthian capitals of the pilasters, are older
than the time of Charles II.
The gardens of Kilworthy, where slight traces of
thefr ancient grandeur may even yet be seen, Avere
on a scale suited to the place. They ran along the
side of an elevated piece of ground to the west of
the house ; being entered through a pair of ample
gates, on whose supporters appeared, at the top of
either, a formidable Uon rampant, holding in his
claws the saltier or, or cross of the Glanrilles, and
froAvning augustly upon all intruders. These, I Avill
venture to say, in the Judge's days, did not half so
weU guard the golden fruits of the Hesperides
vrithin, as did one of those large and fierce hounds,
then so constantly found to perforra the part of
watch at the doors of the wealthy. The lions, and
the original gates of wrought iron, are now gone ; but
opening those wooden ones that have succeeded to
their place, a second and third sort of terrace leads
on to the rising garden (the steepness of the ascent
being thus broken), and many a gay parterre, no
doubt, once lay around exhibiting an endless diver
sity of flowers and plants. When I saAv the gar
dens of Kilworthy, in their more humble state, there
were some beautiful roses in them, and a fine show
of fruit. Kilworthy had once a chapel, but that has
long disappeared, or has been converted into one
of the bams. The dove-cot, stables, and other
offices stood near enough to the house for domestic
convenience, yet not so near as to become an annoy
ance to the family residing in it.
A noble avenue of old beech trees, their trunks
overgrown with moss, and affording the deepest
shade, led on the way from the then principal road

308 KILAA'ORTHY. [lET.
to the mansion, affording the passenger here and
there those peeps of landscape, and of the Dartmoor
heights, between their trunks and branches, always
so welcorae to the lover of the picturesque. These
beech-trees still remain, venerable fi-om time, and
happily untouched by the axe. There are also
some very aged ones of exceeding beauty, in Avhat
Avas once the park, Avhere the red deer used to graze
on the perpetual herbage this climate secures to
our fields. There is one place in KilAVorthy Avhich
deserves pecuUar notice; it is where formerly a
pond was supplied by a pretty little streamlet that
runs meandering through the grounds. Above this,
at the spot I allude to, an old broken bridge of a
single arch, and miniature dimensions, still crosses
it. The spot is so hung with aged trees, their roots
starting from the banks, and overshadowing with
their green arms the rippling waters, that it is the
very scene in which one would fancy the pixies and
fays make their haunts. Here the space is not
large ; the eye cannot Avander beyond its green en
closure of deep boughs. All is still and apparently
reraote fi-ora huraan habitation : so sheltered is it fi-om
the Avinds that they seldora Avander here in rude gusts.
The birds are very fond of this place to build then-
nests in it, and seldom have I visited it Arithout
being struck by the peculiar effect produced by that
Avild music, so sweet to the ear of fancy, that they
made among the boughs, Avhilst the vocalists them
selves Avere often unseen. The notes of the black
bird and the thrush mingled delightftiUy Avith the
very gentlest murraur of the very softest stream.
And this I used to fancy Avas exactly such a spot as
that where Ariel led Ferdinand by the guidance

XXXI.] PIXIES' POOL. 309

of an unseen minstrel. I could almost imagine I
saAV him looking round with wonder, as he ex
claimed, " Where should this music be ? i' the air.
Or fhe earth P It sounds no more,
Yet it crept by me upon the waters.''
This place has, since I endeavoured to describe
a scene suggested by it, received the name of the
Pixies' Pool. And our Devonshire Rysdael, Mr.
John Hitchins, Avhose genius is not less remarkable
than the slight value ho attaches to it, has made
sorae most beautiful drawings of this spot. Few,
scenes, indeed, avUI afford to the mind of the painter
and the poet a more calm and contemplative plea
sure, than that experienced whilst listening to the
vrild songs of the birds, and looking on the still and
clear shadows in the Pixies' Pool.
But I must not indulge this descriptive mood,
well knovring that I may tire you, and that when
once 1 get on a favourite spot I find it difficult to
leave it. Should any tourist, Avho may chance to
visit the beautiful vicinity of Tavistock, ascend the
hill to the north of our town, and visit Kilworthy,
the Ayalk will be good for his health, and Avill cer
tainly soon give him the assurance, if he can bear
the ascent, that he is (as the jockeys say of a horse)
sound in vrind ; since a more steep, rough, or rug
ged path Avill scarcely be found near any town in
the county of Devon. Yet the acclivity once mas
tered, he Avill be amply repaid for the trouble by
the pleasing variety of objects that form the sur
rounding vieAV.
Tavistock, Avith the clustering pinnacles of what
remains of its venerable abbey, the Tavy winding

310 WALLA BROOK. [lET.
beautifiilly amidst a long extent of valley, closed in
by hiUs partially clothed with wood (in Judge Glan
ville's time they were more so), presents, at every
turn, a scene of peculiar interest, and one that
might be rendered more so if those who have the
management of the lands in this part of Devon (and
should they ever see this letter, I hope they will not
despise the hint) would but folloAv the example of
the neighbourhood of Exeter, and suffer the trees
to grow up in the hedges as they do near that an
cient city, and not indulge the fondness for lopping,
which now permits the axe to be laid to the trunk
of every sapling that dares lift its head above the
prescribed height of each hedge- enclosed field. I
hope to see this improvement, so that the landscape,
a thing not so subject to the mutations of time as
are buildings of stone or wood, may again become
as waving with forest trees as it was when viewed
by the GlanviUes fi-om their sj'lvan grounds of Kil
worthy. Once more to return to their dAvelling.
To the east, though at some distance frora the
steep hill on which the house stood, the ground runs
in a precipitous descent towards the valley, through
which floAvs the little stream of the Walla Brook,
visiting in its course Inas Coombe. This coombe
and the Avaters must be considered vrith interest,
and the Walla, indeed, ranked amongst the clas
sical fountains of England, since each has been cele
brated by BroAvne in his 'Britannia's Pastorals.'
Browne, born in Tavistock, and possessing that love
of nature inherent in the breast of every child of
song, deUghted to describe the beautiful scenery of
his native place, and with him the Avanderer through
Kilworthy may truly exclaim.

XXXI.] JUDGE GLANVILLE. 311
" Show rae who can so many christall rylls.
Such sweet-clothed valleys, or aspiring hills."
And to this encomium may be fairly added that of
another poet of our neighbourhood, too early lost to
us : Carrington thus wTites,
" Lovely Devonia ! land of flowers and songs !
To thee the duteous lay. Thou hast a cloud
For ever in thy sky — a breeze, a shower
For ever on thy meads ; yet where shall man,
Pursuing spring around the globe, refresh
His eye with scenes more beauteous than adorn
Thy fields of matchless verdure ?"
Having now endeavoured to give you some idea
of Kilworthy, I shall proceed to raention all I have
been able to learn, both from written record and
tradition, concerning the family who built and re
sided in that mansion.
"Sir John GlanvUle," says Prince, "one of the
justices of the Comraon Pleas, was a native of this
county, and born in the faraous town of Tavistock."
He goes on to state, though he is not certain of
the fact, that this gentleraan was descended fi-om
Ranulph de Glanril, a great man in the days of
WUliam the Conqueror ; and his grandson, he tells
us, was a still greater in the times of Henry II.; for
he was a baron of Parliament, and so skUled in the
laws of the realm that he was made one of the jus
tices itinerant in the twenty-fifth year of that king's
reign ; and soon after raised to the dignity of " Jus
tice of all England." Thus early was a Glanviile
celebrated for his profound knowledge of the laws,
and his posterity appear to have inherited his apti
tude for the legal profession.
John, the subject of this sketch, being but a
younger branch of their stately tree, had not the

312 JUDGE GLANVILLE. [lET.
advantage of a university education, and commenced
his career in no more eminent station than that of
an attorney at law. HoAvever he might be wanting
in the early benefits conferred by regular study in
the schools of learning, he had so much perseverance
that, after he entered himself of the society of Lin
coln's Inn, he rose into great proraise and reputa
tion, having applied his mind Avith indefatigable
industry to the study of the profession. In the
thirty-first year of Elizabeth's reign, 1589, he Avas
called to the bar, and a foAV years after chosen Lent
reader in his house ; and, being nearly at the same
time summoned to the degree of serjeant at law,
he read in the following autumn. His reputation
(as it is often seen vrith persons of real merit) con
stantly increased Avith every favouring opportunity
he found of bringing his talents into play. Glan
viUe was soon deemed worthy higher preferment,
so that in 1598 he was made one of the justices
of Coramon Pleas — an office he fiUed with the great
est honour and integrity. This, however, he did
not long enjoy, as he died about two years after,
and was buried in TaA'istock.
Judge GlanviUe early in life had man-ied a lady
whose name was Skirret ; he had by her three sons
and four daughters. Of the former I shaU have
more to say presently in my letter ; but I cannot
conclude this brief notice of the Judge without
giring his character in the Avords of Prince, Avho
lived so much nearer his time than we do, and from
all circurastances Avas so likely to be well acquainted
vrith it. "He Avas," continues the venerable bio
grapher, "not only skilled in the deep and more
recondite points of the laAv, but he Avas also a great

XXXI.] JUDGE GL.INVILLE. 313
lover of justice and integrity, being careful in his
place to hold the balances intrusted to him, as be
came him, with an even and steady hand; not
inclining to either side, out of awe or dread, out of
favour or affection : he Avould not oppress the sraall
to please the great, but administer justice, accord
ing to his oath, indifferently to all, with that up
rightness and honesty as one conscious to himself
he must one day come to judgment, and have all
his judgments judged over again. This learned
person, dying at Tavistock July 27th, 1600, was
interred in the parish church thereunto belonging,
Avhere is erected to his memory a very fair monu
ment, so lively representing his person in his scarlet
robes, that some at their first entrance into one of
the doors there, against Avhich it stands, have been
surprised at the sight, supposing it had been liring."
The effigy of Judge GlanviUe, thus lauded by
Prince, is certainly a very superior work of art.
There is so much character about the face and head,
that I have no doubt it was an exceUent Ukeness.
Mr. Bray tells me it so exactly corresponds Arith
an old picture, on panel, representing the judge in
his black cap and scarlet robes, that was for years
in the possession of his late father, that it confirms
the circumstance. The effigy is that of a corpulent
man lying at full length on his side ; the upper part
of the body being raised, and the left arm resting
on a cushion. The countenance and brows in par
ticular exhibit those strong marks of intellectual
superiority which ever distinguish a man of talent.
As a Avhole his head is striking and impressive,
notwithstanding the injury it has sustained by a loss
of a part of the nose ; the hands have likewise been
VOL. II. p

314 DAME GLANVILLE. [lET.
mutilated, as Avell as many parts of the tomb. I
have no doubt these injuries had their origin in the
civil Avars when Tavistock Avas, at one period, in a
very disturbed state. In front of the Judge, but
beneath the figure, kneels, in a praying attitude,
the effigy of Dame GlanviUe. This, too, is so cha
racteristic, that it must have been an exceUent like
ness. She is also noseless; but truly estimating
her by Avhat remains of her face, one would be led
to fancy her husband had raade, as raany other wise
men have done, rather an unfortunate choice in his
partner for life. The forehead is Ioav and mean;
and the Avliole expression of the countenance con
veys a strong idea of a proud, cross, disagreeable
woman. And if the dress is correct, and there can
be no doubt it is so, she must have been as fond of
finery as good Queen Bess herself was known to be ;
and as proud of it as a peacock of his magnificent
tail. Seneca described woman as "an animal fond
of dress." This is rather severe upon the ladies,
and ought to be confined to those of Dame Glan-
Aille's order ; nor ought we to feel very well pleased
Avith the old Roman, nor with any other philosopher,
for indulging a querulous mood against us. Vir
tuous and feeling raen honour Avomen : licentious
and proud men abuse them ; and, lowering them in
the scale of intelUgent beings, prepare the way to
degrade them in their moral and reUgious character.
No truly honest man ever yet held woraen in con
terapt ; and those who have entertained the society
of such only as are vain, frivolous, or worse, are not
judges of the worth and the blessing of a truly good
Avoman. This, hoAvever, is rather an odd digression
in the midst of describing Judge GlanriUe's monu-

XXXI.] DAME GLANVILLE. 315
ment, and the figure of his lady. Her di-ess, then,
is the raost extravagant representation of the most
formidable array of the days of Elizabeth. Her
buckram Avaist, like armour, padded sleeves, ruff
and farthingale, are all monstrous ; and her double-
linked gold chains are grand enough for the lord
mayor. On the whole she looks so very formidable,
that thus seen stationed before the Judge, she might
be considered as representing Justice herself, but it
Avould be in her severest mood. In front of the
base of the tomb are seen several sraall figures
about a foot high ; these are the miniature effigies
of the great man's children. Having now told you
all that is knoAvn of the real history of Judge Glan
viUe, I~ shall proceed to mention a story tradition
has connected with him, in which he is indeed made
to bear a prorainent and most painful part.
Before mentioning this, I deem it right to revert
to the use I made of the story in a tale you have
honoured me Avith reading, 'Fitz of Fitz-ford,' a le
gend of Devon. I am more particularly induced to
mention it here, because, since that tale appeared,
many things in it, purely fictions of my own, are now
told as traditions of Tavistock ! And such have,
in more than one instance, been noticed in certain
periodicals. I do not Avish to mislead, or to give
rise to any falsehoods respecting our legends. Once
then and for ever, to set the question at rest, I shall
here state the real traditions of this neighbourhood
on Avhich I grounded my roraance, and shall also
give thera in the very words in which I found them.
No false stories can then hereafter arise.
It Avas in the beginning of the year 1827 that I
chanced to find, amongst some papers relating to
p2

,316 THE GLANVILLES. [lET.
Taristock, the copy of a letter addressed by Mr.
Bray to the late Mr. Daniel Lysons, the author of
the ' Magna Britannia,' of which the ' Devonshire'
forms a part. Mr. Lysons had written to Mr. Bray
to ask him certain questions, in addition to infor
mation before conveyed, respecting this place. The
answer, of which I found a copy in my husband's own
hand, is dated the 16th of January, 1819. Amongst
other matters of minor import, it contains the fol
lowing story, with a few preA'ious remarks. Here
it is. "From information Avhich I have just obtained
fi-om an elderly lady (Miss Adams *), it shoul."
seem that the GlanvUles formerly resided at Hol-
well, in the parish of Whitchurch adjoining ; and that
the Judge removed thence to a house in Tavistock
(Carter's), which, she says, was part of the original
palace of Ordulph (extending to Mrs. Rundle's).
Certainly an arched gateway is near part of it, much
in the style of those belonging to the Abbey ; and in
another part a handsome wainscoted chamber, which
she tells me was called King Edgar's chamber ; as
also a tower apartment. The Judge afterwards built
Kilworthy f , abput a mile and a half from Tavistock,
and occasionally resided in each.
" The Judge's daughter was attached to George
StauAvich, a young man of Tavistock, lieutenant of a
man of war, whose letters (the father disapproAing
of the attachment) were intercepted. An old miser
"¦ Miss Adaras died about nine years ago, at a very great age. She
was a woman possessed of a strong mind, and the living record of
¦whatever of history or tradition raight be in any way connected with
Tavistock. f Prince, however, thinks Kilworthy was built by Sir Johu Glan
rille, son of the Judge.

XXXI.] PAGE THE MISER, 317
of Plymouth, of the narae of Page, wishing to have
an heir to disappoint his relations, Avho, perhaps, Avere
too confident in calculating upon sharing his Avealth,
availed himself of this apparent neglect of the young
sailor, and settling on her a good jointure, obtained
her hand. She took with her a maid servant from
TaAistock, but her husband was so penurious, that
he dismissed all the other servants, and caused his
wife and her maid to do all the work themselves.
On an interview subsequently taking place between
her and Stanwich, she accused hira of neglecting to
Avrite to her; and then discovered that his letters
had been intercepted. The maid advised thera to
get rid of the old gentleraan, and Stanwich at length,
Arith great reluctance, consented to their putting an
end to him. Page lived in what is now the mayor
alty house (at Plymouth), and a Avoman who Uved
opposite hearing at night some sand thrown against
a Avindow, thinldng it Avas her own, arose, and looking
out, saw a young gentleman near Page's window,
and heard him say, " For God's sake stay your
hand !" A female replied, " 'Tis too late, the deed
is done." On the foUoAving morning it Avas given
out that Page had died suddenly in the night, and
as soon as possible he Avas buried. On the testi
mony, however, of his neighbour, the body Avas
taken up again, and it appearing that he had been
strangled, his wife, Stanwich, and the maid, Avere tried
and executed. It is current among the comraon
people here, that Judge Glanviile, her own father^
pronounced her sentence *."
-? In the 92nd No. of the Quarterly Review, January, 1832,
in the reviewal of Collier's ' History of the EngUsh Drama,' I saw it
stated, that, before Shakspeare wrote his plays, it was the custom of

318 STORY OF PAGE. [leT.
On reading this dismal story in Mr. Bray's letter,
it instantly struck me that Avith some alterations,
additions, &c., it might be made a ground-work for
the plot of a romance that, would admit descriptive
scenes, &c. of this town and neighbourhood. And
the more I thought of it, the more I felt desirous
to execute the plan I had formed. At the same time
it struck me that ii' I could unite vrith it a second
plot, founded on the true story of Sir John Fitz
(recorded by Prince), it Avould heighten the interest,
and increase the opportunities that would occur for
scenes of a dramatic character. I next turned to
(Avhat I shall soon give) the story of Sir Joim Fitz,
and saw it Avotdd do.
That of Page required, I thought, considerable
alteration. It Avould make the tale too horrible,
too much of the raw-head and bloody-bones order
to have the vrife kill her husband in the progress of
the piece. I determined, therefore, that the deed
should have been done years before the opening of
the narrative ; that tAvo of the parties concerned
should have escaped immediate justice (StauArich
and the maid), and that the miserable consequences
of their crimes, both to themselves and others,
should form the groundwork of my story, as those
consequences might arise in the course of the Avork.
I had some doubt as to the Avay in which I should
draAV the character of the maid who had urged the
wife of Page to commit the murder. That she must
be very Aricked Avas a thing of course ; but a common
serving damsel Avould hardly siut Arith dramatic
the time to dramatise any remarkable incident which occurred in the
country. Mr. CoUier mentions one of these incidental dramas to have
heen "The lamentable Tragedy of Page of Plymouth."

XXXI.] EETSY GRlMBAL. 319
effect in the particular kind of scenes I Avished to
represent. She ought to be raised something above
the comraon order, so that it Avould not be incon
gruous to raake her speak EngUsh instead of Devon
shire, She ought, I fancied, to have a genius for
wickedness ; and to carry about her something to
excite terror as Avell as abhorrence. Wliat name to
call her Avas also another point. " Call her,'' said
Mr. Bray, " Betsy Grimbal : that name is formidable
enough for any such character as you Avish to draAV ;
and, raoreover, Betsy Grimbal is not unknown to
tradition; though all that is told of her is, that
she, instead of committing a murder, Avas herself
murdered. She is said to have been killed by a
soldier in the spfr-al stairs of the toAver flanking the
old archway in our garden. Hence that tower bears
her name. The stains on the waU, called her blood
used sadly to frighten me when I was a child."
It was agreed that Betsy Grimbal Avas, therefore,
to become the guUty associate and attendant of
Page's wife, and to play a busy and prominent part
in the story. And as I wished as much as possible
to combine every fragment of tradition, or to derive
some hint from it, thatAvould suggest incident and
character, even the slightest legend of old times was
not to be neglected. It struck me that I could
make Lady Howard into a character. All I knew
of her then was, that she bore the reputation of
having been hard-hearted in her lifetime. That
for some crime she had committed (nobody knew
Avhat) she was said to be doomed to run in the shape
of a hound fi-om the gateway of Fitz-ford to Oak
hampton park, between the hours of midnight and
cock-crowing, and to return Avith a single blade of

320 LADY HOWARD. [LET.
grass in her mouth Avhence she started ; and this
she Avas to do tiU every blade Avas picked, Avhen the
Avorld would be at an end.
Dr. Jago, the clergyman of Milton Abbot, how
ever, told me that occasionally she Avas said to ride
in a coach of bones up the West-street towards the
Moor ; and an old man of this place told a friend
of mine the sarae story, only adding that " he had
seen her in it scores of times .'" A lady also Avho
was once a resident here, and whom I met in com
pany, assured me that, happening many years before
to pass the old gateway at Fitz-ford, as the church
clock struck twelve, in returning frora a party, she
had herself seen the hound start ! Now I verily
believe the lady told truth ; for my husband's father,
many years ago, rented Fitz-ford ; it was the resi
dence of his hind or bailiff, and there the late
Mr. Bray used to keep a pack of hounds : it is,
therefore, nothing improbable that one of them
might have slipped the kennel, and ran out as the
church clock struck twelve, and so personated, in the
eyes of imagination, the terrific spectre of the old
tale. My husband can remember that Avhen a boy
it was a common saying with the gentry at a party —
" Come, it is groAving late, let us begone, or Ave shall
meet Lady Howard as she starts fi-om Fitz-ford."
The above anecdotes Avere all 1 knoAv about her,
Avhen I determined to make her take a part in my
story ; but the hound, the gateway, and fhe coach of
bones, were all fine hints for imagination to work
upon. I Avalked doAvn to Fitz-ford with Mr. Bray
and reconnoitred the spot, and there, such is thebe-
Avitching power of locality, all seemed to rush at once
into my mind. The plot Avas formed with ease, and

XXXI.] LADY HOWARD. 321
I Avent horae determined to connect the adventure
of Fitz and Slanning, under the gateway, with Lady
Howard; to give her a real hound, a blood hound,
instead of turning her into one ; and then the coach
of bones and her riding in it after death, might
be made a legend, in consequence of a great crime
which, by an eril passion, she had been led to deter
mine on coraraitting whUst riding in her OAvn coach,
in all her pride, to the house of the person she had
it in vicAv to betray to ruin here on earth. This rude
sketch of a plot was soon Avorked into shape and
committed to paper. Mr. Bray named the hound
Redfang, as a significant appellative for a dog Avhose
instinct Avas to become the agency in assisting to
bring about the catastrophe. I had never seen a
bloodhound, and I Arished to be correct in describing
one. Here fortune favoured me again; for the
younger Lewis, the animal painter, in a few days
arrived at our house. I ventured to tell him my
Avishes, and he vei-y good-naturedly made me a most
spirited sketch of a blood-hound ; for he had painted
one from Ufe, I think he said, in Scotland. From
that drawing I described Redfang, and Mr. Lewis's
account of the habits and instinct of the animal Avas
of great serrice.
The character of the Jew Avas suggested by our
acquaintance Avith a most honest Israelite, a German,
Mr. Rosenthal, who used to come to the ricarage
to teach Mr. Bray Hebrew. The terms of instruc
tion he left to him ; and when the time came for
payraent, he actually wanted to return Mr. Bray
some part of the money, insisting that he ought not
to be paid so much for his lessons. There was so
much mildness, feeling, and gratitude about poor
p3

322 FITZ OF FITZ-FORD. [LET.
Rosenthal, that I endeavoured minutely to observe
him, and to sketch him in Levi, as a A'ery different
sort of character to what Ave generally expect to
find in a Jew. I beUeve I have here stated every
fragment of tradition that suggested to me any
name, character, or incident in the tale, excepting
the real story of Fitz ; Avhich, as it is the principal,
and the one after which I called the work, I here
conclude with giring exactly as I found it in Prince's
' Worthies of Devon.'
"John Fitz, of Fitz-ford, Esquire, was in his time
a A'ery erainent counsellor at laAV ; in demonstra
tion thereof (continues this biographer, after giAing
the list of his generations) is a large volume he is
said to have left behind him in manuscript, called
' Fitz his Reports.' I think it was never printed ;
and Avhether yet in being I know not. He was also
preferred, in his time, to the honour and trust of
being high sheriff of the county of Devon, an. 23d,
some say an. 25th, of Queen Elizabeth's reign. He
married Mary, daughter of Sir John Sydenham, of
Brimton, in Somersetshire ; but was very unfortunate
in his issue, of which there is this remarkable story.
Mr. Fitz being a curious as well as a learned person,
had been prying into the secrets of astrology ; his
lady being with child, he would needs be inqufring
into the fortune of her burthen before she was de
livered ; Avho, being just ready to fall into travaU,
he erected a scheme to calculate the matter ; and as
it often falls out in such unjustifiable curiosities,
finding at that time a very unlucky position of the
heavens, he desired the midwife, if possible, to
hinder the birth but for one hour, which not being
to be done, he declared that the child would come to

XXXI.] SIR J. FITZ AND SLANNING. 323
an unhappy end, and undo his family. And it feU
out accordingly, for that birth proving a son, though
afterAvards knighted by the name of Sir John Fitz
of Fitz-ford, yet having first slain Sir Nicholas Slan
ning of this county, Kt., and after that one or two
raore, he fell upon his oavu sword, and destroyed
hiraself" In a notice respecting the family of Slanning,
Prince thus states the circumstance more at large.
" This gentleraan came to an untimely end, being
slain in a quarrel that happened between him and
Sir John Fitz, near Tavistock, in this county. The
matter, it seems, was likely to have been composed,
but the villain, Fitz's man, tAvitting his master with
a ' What, play chUd's play I Come to fight, and now
put up your sword ! ' made him draw again, and
Slanning's foot in stepping back (having his spurs
on) hitching in the ground, was there, unfortunately
and foully, killed : whereupon Sir John Fitz, by the
interest of his ftiends, sued out his pardon soon
after this happened, which Avas in 1599. But al
though Queen Elizabeth was pleased to forgive
lum, Slanning's AvidoAv would not; but brought her
appeal, and obtained a verdict against Sir John for
damages, Avho thereupon was forced to comply vrith
her, by granting some part of his estate to her and
her family, who are still in possession of it."
"After this," continues Prince, "as one sin be
came (as oftentimes it doth) the punishraent of
another. Sir John was so unhappy to be guilty of
a second murder; and thereupon flying from his
county (though not from his own guilty conscience)
so far as Salisbury, or thereabouts, in his way to
London, to sue out a second pardon, hearing some-

324 SIR J. FITZ AND SLANNING. [lET.
body about his chamber-door early in the morning,
and fearing it had been officers corae to apprehend
him, by raistake in the dark he slew one of the
house come to wake him, as he desiredf in order to
his journey. When the lights carae that raade him
sensible of the horrid and atrocious fact which he
had afresh committed, overwhelmed Arith sorroAV and
despair, he fell upon his oavu sword and slew him
self. Unto Avhich passage that tetrastich formerly
found upon this raonuraent, now nearly expunged by
the finger of tirae, doth plainly relate, Avhere Sir
Nicholas Slanning, by an apostrophe, speaketh thus
of Fitz:"— Idem ceedis erat nostrae, simul author et ullor ;
Trux horaicida mei, mox homicida sui.
Queraque in me primum, mox in se condidit ensem :
O ! nostrum sumrai Judicis arbitriura.
Prince has thus closely rendered it in English : —
" He author of ray murder was, and the revenger too :
A bloody murderer of me, and then himself he slew.
The very sword which in mine first, he bathed his own blood.
O ! of the highest Judge 'twixt us, the arbitration good !"
Mr. Bray has rendered it thus : —
" I in my murderer my avenger found.
Who dealt to both the homicidal wound:
For, of just heaven the retribution due,
Me, and himself, hy the same sword he slew.''
The first part of the above melancholy tale I fol
lowed closely in my novel, and represented the old
laAvyer engaged in his astrological pursuits, and
alarmed for the fate he had so darkly predicted
respecting his only son. The latter part Avas too
fuU of horrors ; and therefore, blending fiction Avith
truth, I ventured to create a cause for the quarrel

XXXI.] MRS. bray's novel. 325
between Slanning and Sir John Fitz, that should be
connected Avith the leading incidents of the story
even from its opening; and instead of John Fitz
kilUng three persons, I thought one would be quite
enough, and so concluded much according to the
real narrative. Tradition marks the old gatcAvay of
Fitz-ford, still in existence, as the scene of the fatal
duel and the spot Avhere Slanning fell.
WliUst 'Fitz of Fitz-ford' was going through
the press, my brother was collecting his materials
for some account of TaAistock and its Abbey,
for the pages of the Gentleman's Magazine, from
Avhich I have occasionaUy made extracts, as men
tioned in these letters. During various researches,
he examined more carefuUy than I had done (for
my attention had been confined to the story of the
astrologer) Prince's account of the genealogy of the
family of Fitz, their marriages, births, &c. Judge,
therefore, how much I Avas surprised at my OAvn
carelessness, Avhen ray brother wrote me word that
I had made a great oversight about Lady Howard ;
for in tracing the alliances of this wife oi four hus
bands, he had found she Avas the sole child and
heiress of Sir John Fitz, who killed Slanning, and
afterwards fell on his own sword. Had Lady HoAvard
been an historical character, this Avould have been a
grievous mistake on my part, for I consider a no-
A'elist not justified in misleading in any important
points connected Avith history; but as she was a
private indiridual, conspicuous only for her for
tune and her bad name, the error appeared to me of
no consequence; and I might hope to be excused
also on the ground of that license which is extended
to novelists as well as poets, in cases of a similar

326 WEALTHY PAGE. [lET.
nature. At all events I made the blunder, and am
therefore bound to acknowledge rather than excuse
it, by at once declaring that Lady Howard, as far
as her birth and her share in the action of my story
goes, is quite as fictitious as the other characters
which are wholly so.
Respecting Su- John, or " Old Page," I am in
formed by Mr. Hughes (who is well acquainted
with many local interesting stories and traditions),
that he was an eminent merchant in his day, com
monly called "wealthy Page." He lived in Wool-
ster Street, Plymouth, in the house since knoAvn by
the narae of the Mayoralty. It stood untouched
tUl the rebuUding of the Guildhall, when it was
taken doAvn. The old house Avas long an object of
curiosity on account of the atrocious murder there
committed. Mr. Hughes likevrise tells me that some
years ago, prerious to the repairs of St. Andrew's
church, Plymouth, Page's coffin was discovered, on
breaking the ground near the communion table for
the interment of a lady named Lovell. The in
scription on the coffin proved it to contain the body
ofthe "AA'ealthy Page." It was opened; the re
mains Avere found in a reraarkably perfect state, but
crumbled to dust on being exposed to the air. So
great was the curiosity of the populace, that during
several days hundreds pressed in to gratify it, and
every relic that could be stolen, if but a nail from
the coffin, Avas carried off.
There is no authority but that of tradition in
support of the assertion that the Arife of Page was
one of the daughters of Judge Glanrille, and re
ceived sentence of death from the lips of her own
father. Supposing the story to be true. Prince has

XXXI.] JUDGE HODY. 327
cai-efully suppressed it. I ara, however, disposed to
think it is not true; as my venerable friend, the
Rev. Richard Polwhele, of Polwhele, Cornwall, (de
scended fi-om the judge by the marriage of his
daughter Dionysia with a' Pohvhele) Avrites me
word — " That though he had heard his grand
mother tell the story of GlanviUe passing the sen
tence on his own chUd, it Avas not, even in her time,
considered true.' It strikes me, after a careful
examination of Avhatever circumstance could throw
Ught on the subject, that some confusion, some
mistake has arisen, in consequence of another De
vonshire judge having really been placed in so trying
and painful a situation as that of sitting on the
bench and passing sentence on his OAvn son. I here
give the circumstance from Prince.
" So great a lover of justice was Judge Hody,
that according to his oath, and the obligation of his
honour, he most exactly administered it to all with
out favour or affection. A traditionary confirmation
whereof in the family I crave leave here to relate,
not as redounding to the disparagement of that, but
the high honour of this grand justiciary. 'Tis said
when his son Thomas was tried before hira at the
public assizes, and found guUty by his country of a
capital crime, he with his own mouth pronounced
sentence of death upon him. For which reason, 'tis
observed, there hath not ever since been any of
the name Thomas in tlus family. And when the
unfortunate son, overAvhelmed Arith sorrow and me
lancholy, killed himself the next night after, the
father, esteeming him degenerate, would not so
much as honour his funeral with his presence."

328 TRADITION OF GLANVILLE. [lET.
This Judge Hody lived in the reigns of Henry
VII. and VIIL, and I cannot help thinking that
the above story about his son has given rise to a
similar tradition about Glanrille and his daughter.
For though Prince says in another part of his curi
ous and ingenious work, that he " liketh not to teU
old tales that are disreputable to honourable fami
lies, and therefore leaveth them unnoticed whenever
he can do so" — yet Ave see he does tell the tale about
Judge Hody's son ; wh}', therefore, suppress that of
Glanrille's eldest or youngest daughter, had it been
true ? If true or false, so striking a tradition Avas
quite sufficient authority for a Avriter of roraance;
and as it afi'orded a good subject for imagination
to work upon, both in character and incident, I felt
fiilly justified in making Glanviile a judge who had
passed sentence on his own daughter in my story.
I should much like to see the old play (mentioned
by Collier in his 'History of the Drama') called the
' Lamentable Tragedy of Page of Plymouth,' as that
would most likely settle the question ; for it cannot
be supposed that a circumstance of so impressive a
nature, and known to all the kingdom, would have
been passed unnoticed by the dramatist, whoever he
might have been ; and as it was the fashion of the
time to dramatise any remarkable incidents that
occurred in real life, a feeling of deUcacy Avould not
have been dreamt of to prevent it, though Judge
GlanvUle was then alive, since it could be no more
shocking to his feelings to represent the act in Avhich
he perforraed a painful duty, than to bring forward
that in which his daughter was seen acting the crime
of murder in its most atrocious form.

XXJil.] SIR J. GLANVILLE. 329
There is another and a very interesting tale re
specting a son of Judge GlanviUe : this is recorded
by Prince ; and I once entertained the idea of found
ing on it a story, as one of a series of tales that
should attempt to bring into play all the most in
teresting legends of this part of England, as I
think many of thera are not less worthy notice than
the legends of Scotland and Wales. The striking
circurastances to Avhich I now allude are connected
vrith Kilworthy ; but before I relate thera, I must
commence, in regular order, a sketch of the life of
Sir John Glanrille, of Avhich they forra a part.
'tSir John GlanviUe, Serjeant at Law, was born,"
says Prince, " at Tavistock, that fruitful seed-plot
of eminent and learned men in this county. He
was the second son of Judge GlanviUe, aforemen
tioned, an honourable and worthy person."
This gentleman, like his father, had not the ad
vantage of receiving his education at either of the
uniA'er sities. He Avas bred an attorney, but after
wards removing to Lincoln's Inn, with the help of
his father's notes, he became skilled in his pro
fession. For sorae time he practised as a coun
sellor, and his reputation increasing with his years,
he Avas at length elected recorder of Plymouth, and
served as burgess for that town in several parlia
ments. In the fifth of King Charles I. he Avas
chosen Lent reader of his house, and in 1637 ad
vanced to the rank of Seijeant at Law. About this
time he had the honour of becoming Speaker to the
House of Commons. Clarendon, who mentions the
circumstance, says he Avas — " a man very equal to
the AVork, very well acquainted with the proceed
ings in parliaments, of a quick conception, and of a

330 SIR J. GLANVILLE. L'"'^'^-
ready, voluble expression, dexterous in disposing the
house, and very acceptable to them." Glanviile,
who more than once, in his character of burgess for
Plyraouth, had been little fi-iendly to the preroga
tive of the crown, nevertheless, on seeing to Avhat
extremities the factious and discontented were dis
posed to carry aU things in their efforts to subvert
the church, the monarchy, and the laws, proved
himself active in thefr defence ; and so worthily did
he conduct the affairs of the house in its first meet
ing, 1640, Avhen, after a long interval, the king had
again summoned a parliament, that in the foUoAring
year he received the honour of knighthood fromJ;he
hand of that beloA'ed raaster.
It is not a little remarkable that, though he filled
the office of Speaker at a time Avhen the most stormy
debates were carried on, and often interposed his
authority to maintain the rules and order of pro
ceeding, which so many were disposed to subvert,
his popiUarity remained unshaken, and he was held
in universal respect, though knoAvn to have the
king's interest at heart, and to be devoted to his
service. Such, is the respect Avhich a man who acts
conscientiously, and serves the cause of loyalty from
a sense of its justice, vrill generaUy command, even
from his enemies. GlanvUle lost no whit of that
paid to him, tUl the factious became openly the re-
beUious, and Avar Avas proclaimed on either side. It
was then that his enemies, who Avere the King's also,
haring him entfrely Avithin their own power, and
finding he was not to be shaken, conferred on him
the highest honour he had yet attained — that of
being made a sufferer in a just and righteous cause.
Before matters, howeA'er, had arrived to an open

XJvvtJ sill J. GLANVILLE. 331
rupture between the King and the Coraraons, Glan
rille particularly distinguished himself in the com
mittee respecting subsidies, which, by a message
through Sir Harry Vane, the unfortunate Charles
had requested might be granted him in lieu of ship-
money, adjudged to be his right, but Avhieh he would
not insist upon, out of affection to his people, since
they were unvriUing to pay it. Deprived of these
means, by his own forbearance, he prayed the Parlia
ment to grant the supplies that he found so absolutely
necessary at such a crisis. This allusion to " right'
and " ship-money" was exceedingly offensive to some
of the more riolent members ; and, after a sharp de
bate, it was resolved to go again into committee of the
whole house, and all present seemed to wish " that
whatsoever," says Clarendon, " they should give the
kmg should be a free testimony of their affection
and duty, vrithout any release of ship-money, which
deserved no consideration, but in a short time would
appear niUl and void."
Hampden, the most popular and most Arily man
araong them, and who had so lately defended the
ship-money suit against the crown, did not lose
such a moment as this ; and judging the subject
ripe for the question, desired it might be put —
" Whether the House would consent to the propo
sition made by the king, as it was contained in the
message of Sir Harry Vane ? " This the arch-rebel
well knew would be sure to meet vrith a negative
from all who thought the sum too great, and were
not pleased that it should be given in lieu of
ship-money, though the king had said nothing
more than the whole house knew to be truth —
namely, that it had been adjudged his right ; and

332 SIR J. GLANVILLE. [lKT.
his offer to Avaive this right, from love to his people,
Avould have been hailed as a proof of his desire to
render thera happy, and to conciliate them, by any
other than raen who had deterrained the poor king
never should be right, tUl Avi-ong had hurled him
frora the throne.
At this call of " Question," Serjeant GlanvUle
as one of the members only in committee) arose;
and though he seldom spoke on such occasions,
yet noAv, in Avhat Clarendon calls " a most pa-
thetical speech," in which he excelled, he endea
voured to prevail with the house to entertain fi-eely
and grant the king's desire, as an act that Avould
prove of great benefit to the nation at large, inas
much as it could not fail to reconcile his majesty to
parliaments for CA'cr, by a ready testimony of their
affection. After haring endeaA'oured to raise in his
hearers a kind and dutiful feeling towards the king,
he next showed thera, in the clearest raanner, how
A'ery inconsiderable Avould be the subsidy to those,
taken individually, by Avhose contributions it must
be raised. The Serjeant had computed his oaati
assessment : he named the sum to Avhich it Avould
amount ; and all present knowing hoAV large Avas his
estate, and therefore that most men Avould have far
less to pay, the matter appeared too insignificant to
be Avorthy any more debating.
GlanvUle saw the poAverful impression he had
made by his eloquent appeal : he had stirred up
some feeling of generosity towards the king ; and
had shown, by the simplest and raost certain test —
that of an arithmetical calculation — hoAV little such
generosity Avould really cost themselves. Willing,
therefore, stUl further to conciliate them (and in

XXXI.] SIR J. GLANVILLE. 333
this we sec something of the lawyer as Avell as of
the orator), he let the house knoAv that, in matters
of law affecting right, he was as jealous as them
selves ; and he let fall, in his zeal, some severe ex
pressions against the impost of ship-money, and
against the judgment lately given in its favour.
" This," says Clarendon, " from one known to be
very learned, hoAV necessary and artificial soever to
reconcUe the affections of the house to the matter
in question, very much irreconciled him at court,
and to those upon whom he had the greatest de
pendence, though there Avas scarce ever a speech
that more gathered up and united the inclinations
of a popular council to the speaker ; and if the ques
tion had been presently put, it Avas beUeved the
number of the dissenters would not have appeared
great." The failure of this afi'air of the subsidies, princi
paUy by the mismanagement and misrepresentation
of Sir Han-y Vane, who so often betrayed the un
happy king, AvhUst pretending to serve him, caused
the speedy dissolution of that parliament, which
Charles too soon had bitter cause to lament. Some
factious spirits — Hampden, St. John, and cunning
Pym at their head — rejoiced at it; but all Avho wished
well to the king and to the country saw that, taken
in the aggregate, such a number of dispassionate
and Avell-intentioned men Avould not be returned
again ; and that, in another house, Avhich Charles
would too soon be obliged to call, the factious would
return no representatives but such as were willing
to go all lengths with the evil spirits of the times.
Dissolving a parliament such as this, at a crisis

334 SIR J. GLANVILLE. [lET.
when the elements of rebeUion Avere gathering
strength, and combining their several powers before
the bursting of the storm, was, on the part of the
king, as great an act of temerity as it Avould have
been for the captain of a vessel to cut away his
cables, and send the ship out of port to buffet
before the tempest, amidst rocks and shoals, when;
by keeping in harbour, though the gale might sing
in the shrouds, and beat upon her, it could not have
force sufficient to drive her from her moorings, or to
make her the wi-eck of its unmitigable fury. Charles
never recovered that false step of ill-adrised policy ;
and Avhen he Avas forced to leave the treasonable
parliaraent which he afterwards called, and but too
soon hastened his ruin, his faithful Speaker, Glan
rille, followed him to Oxford, Avhere he devoted all
the energies of a mind naturally energetic to the
service of his prince.
At Oxford, with some other loyalists of great
merit, in a public Convocation, he was created Doctor
of Ciril Law, in 164.3. And being noAV considered by
the rebels " a desperate malignant," in the year 1645
they disabled hira from sitting as a meniiber at
Westminster. Shortly after returning to his OAvn
home in Devon, the king's cause no sooner declined
in the west than he was seized and comraitted to
prison (probably at Exeter), and there remained a
long while in captivity — an honourable example of
hoAV patiently and how cheerfully a good cause can
enable a man to suffer the greatest injuries. He
was not released tiU the year 1648, Avhen he bought
his liberty, by a heavy fine being laid on his estates.
Loyd, in his " Loyal Sufferers," gives the highest

XXXI.J SIR J. GLANVILLE. 335
character of GlanviUe ; and fi-om him we learn that
this imprisonment Avas not the first to which the
worthy Serjeant had been exposed.
He states that GlanviUe's first durance was on
shipboard, in 1626, for haring spoken his mind too
fi-eely on some points respecting the prerogative;
that afterAvards he suffered six several hard impri
sonraent^ (one of which Avas two years in the Tower
of London) for declaring himself " as honestly in
some law points against a treasonable popularity;"
and so high did his character stand in the estimation
of all men, that, notArithstanding his so recent cap
tivity, the UniA'ersity of Oxford, ever honourable
and consistent, even under the raost dangerous cir
cumstances and times, was bold enough to return
Sir John Glanviile as her burgess in one of the par
liaments held in the days of the usurper. But Glan
rille's attachment to the exiled family of the mur
dered king was knoAvn to be unshaken ; he Avas not,
therefore, suffered to take his seat. His spirit
undaunted by those Avho in this arbitrary raanner
had opposed his just election, and deterrained, if it
could not aid hira in asserting the rights of the
injured in the general asserably of his countrymen,
that he would defend them as long as one law re
mained unsubverted to bear him out, he now pleaded
openly, as a laAvyer, the causes of many a banished
royaUst ; amongst others, those of Lord Craven and
Sir John Stawel : the latter being a prisoner, and
particularly obnoxious to many Avho then held the
reins of government in their oavu hands.
To the honour of this truly great man, be it also
spoken, that he possessed that most certain mark of

336 SIR J. GLANVILLE. [lET.
superior merit, both of head and heart — the power
to distinguish it in others, and the will to bring it
forward with honour and success. It was Serjeant
Glanviile Avho first appreciated the then obscure
talents of Sir Matthew Hale, — obscure by fortune,
by the want of opportunity, and doubly so by an
idle course of life. This fault he represented to
Hale in strong terms, roused his energies, encou
raged his perseverance, and opened to him that
path by Avhich he afterwards arose to so much dig
nity and repute.
The story I am noAv about to relate (the truth of
which there is no cause to doubt) opens to us the
character of Glanviile in its most amiable light. In
reflecting on it Ave feel that gloAv of pleasure Avhich
both young and old experience Avhilst they listen to
a deed of heroic generosity in the days of chivalry,
when raen were heroes because they Avere Christians,
and thought no action could be worthy the honour
of a knight that Avas not founded on the high prin
ciples and true glory emanating from their obe
dience to God, to his Church here on earth, and to
their anointed King.
Judge Glanrille, the possessor of that fair estate
of Kibvorthy, so often spoken of in this letter, in
tended to settle it on his son Francis, as the elder
born, who was to bear the honours of his house, and
to convey them unsullied to his posterity ; but
Francis disappointed his hopes. He proved idle
and ricious ; and, Uke the prodigal in the Gospel,
would leave his father's house to herd among swine,
for such are the low and the Avicked. Seeing there
was no prospect of his amendment, the Judge gave

xxxi.] FRANK GLANVILLE. 337
the inheritance of the elder to the younger born,
and settled his estate on John, afterwards Serjeant,
GlanviUe. Francis, on his father's death, finding those threats
which had been occasionally held out to induce hira
to reform his wild career were fully executed (for he
had never really believed thera to be other than
threats), was overcome with grief and dismay. He
was the elder born — ¦*ihe natural heritor of the
estate ; and he, like Esau, had sold his birthright
for dishonour. This reflection, and the thought that
his father had died in too just anger towards him,
so Avrought on a mind in which there lay hid
strong, though hitherto perverted, feelings, that he
became melancholy. Riot could no longer soothe the
pangs of conscience ; and when, like the prodigal,
all was gone, instead of giving himself up to utter
despair, he wisely returned to God, as to an offended
and only Father, his earthly parent being alike
removed either from his sorrows or his repentance.
Good resolutions are the guides to virtue, but prac
tice is the path ; and that must be followed Avith an
uuAvearied step. Frank Glanviile, having once set
his foot in the Avay, did not turn back; and so stea
dily did he advance in his progress on the right
road, that what his father could never do with him
whilst he lived (and the spendthrift entertained the
expectation of being his heir), he noAV did for him
self, when he Avas little better than an outcast ftom
his early home : his life became corapletely changed.
Sir John GlanvUle, his younger brother, Avishing
to prove him before he gave him better countenance,
for some time left hira to himself, till he felt con-
A'OL. II. Q

338 FRANK AND SIR J. GLAKVILLE. [lET.
vinced his brother's penitence Avas as lasting as it
Avas sincere : he then sent and invited him to be
present at a feast that he purposed making for his
friends in the halls of Kihvorthy. The most sump
tuous preparations Avere made ; the banquet Avas s6t
forth Avith all the liberal hospitality of the time ; the
guests assembled Avere numerous and honourable ;
and music sounded through the halls its varied and
most enlivening notes.
Sir .John GlanviUe took the repentant prodigal by
the hand, seated him at the table, and, after many
dishes had been served, ordered one that Avas coAcrcd
to be set before his brother Francis ; and then, Avith
a cheerful countenance, he bade him raise the cover.
Francis did so. All present Avere surprised on seeing
that the dish contained nothing but Avritten parch
ments ; Avhereupon Sir John GlanviUe, Avishing all
his friends to knoAv the respect in which he now held
his repentant brother, and at the same tirae Avith
that true generosity Avhich seeks to lighten the
obligation it confers, by lessening its merit, told
Francis, and those Avho were assembled, that Avhat he
now did Avas only the sarae act that he felt assured
would have been performed by his father, could he
haAe lived to witness the happy change which they
all knew had taken place in his eldest son : there
fore, as in honour bound, he freely restored to him
tlie whole estate.
The scene that followed may be readily imagined ;
the "lost that Avas found" feU on his brother's
neck and wept aloud, and if there was one heart in
that assembly more than aU the rest rejoicing in the
general joy, it Avas the heart of the generous, the
Q 2

xxxi. J FRANK AND SIR J, GLANVILLE. 339
noble, fhe just brother, who uoav most truly felt the
force of these Avords of the Lord of life : " It is more
blessed to give than to receive."
It is honourable to both brothers that Francis
proved deserving of being thus restored to his inhe
ritance ; he lived to receive the distinction of knight
hood from the hand of Charles II. Sir John Glan
rille's generosity is a proof that the truly great
in public duties are not less so in private ones ;
indeed I should ever doubt that man's claim to
patriotism and public rirtue, Avho could be unjust,
arrogant, or arbitrary in the relations of domestic
life. Sir Francis GlanviUe some years after married
Elizabeth, the daughter of William Cryraes, Esq.,
of Devon, and left a son named Francis, who died
vrithout issue : in consequence of which his estates
came to his sister's only daughter (by her husband
Mr, William Kelly), and she married Ambrose
Manaton, Esq,, AA'hich caused the noble mansion of
Balworthy to pass into that family *,
Sfr John, or Seijeant GlanvUle, Avhom I consider
not only one of the greatest men ever born in TaAis
tock, but Avhose virtues render hira an honour to the
kingdom at large, lived to see monarchy restored :
he was favourably received, as he deserA'ed to be, by
* The Manatons were very celebrated persons, of honourable repute,
who for generations kept up the old style of hospitality and kindness
to their friends and tenantry. An old house, with the crest of a
unicorn rampant upon the ornameutal parts of the front, still points
out their town residence in Tavistock, Their beautiful old-fashioned
service of pewter plates, dishes, &e., was a few years since sold by
auction. Mr, Bray's mother hought it, and we now every day dine
off the grand Manaton service, decorated with arms and unicorn, at
the Vicarage.
Q 2

340 DEATH OF SIR J. GLANVILLE. [lET.
Charles IL, on his accession to his father's throne,
and was appointed King's Serjeant. In all proba
bility he Avould have risen to yet higher honours had
not God, Avho endowed him so largely on earth with
his richest gift, a truly noble spirit, conferred upon
it that iraraortality which raust have been its highest
reward, in the year 1661. He Avas buried in the
church of Broad Hinton, in Wilts; Avhere he re
sided for some time before his death. His AvidoAV,
Winifred, placed a monument over his grave, Avith an
inscription, in which even raonuraental praise could
scarcely equal his merit.
Whilst employed in the agreeable task of penning
this slight sketch of his Ufe, Mr. Charles Crapp, a
respectable mercer of this town, had the kindness to
send me a very curious raanuscript in his possession,
Avhich he highly values, giving an account of the
lands disposed for charitable purposes in the parish
of Tavistock. In this raanuscript I find an entry,
dated 29th March, 1649, stating that our good
Serjeant did give in trust to certain gentlemen of
this place, all named, the tenement called South
Brent Tor, to the intent that the rent or profits of the
said estate .shall be thus disposed of: — That "the
feoffees, their heirs, assigns, and successors, or the
most of them that wUl be present in the school-house
on Friday in the Easter Aveek, betAveen the hours
of ten and eleven, do elect a toAvardly youth, born of
honest parents within the said borough, whose pa
rents or friends are poor, and without deceit reputed
to be unable to maintain such boy, and to dispose the
profits for his maintenance at one ofthe universities ;
and when all the feoffees (trustees) are dead, to eight

XXXI.] SIR J. glanville's bequests. 341
survivors must renew the estate to others of Avhich
the eight masters of the town and parish must be
of them."
The manuscript (which contains a long list of
charitable donations) says — "N.B. These abstracts
were taken out of the new feoff'ment deeds, dated
2lst August, 1738."
To conclude, as Sir John Glanviile was a man of
A'irtue and talents himself, so, as we have seen, Avas
he the friend to both in others. His Avorks Avere
principally of a political nature. Sorae of his par
liamentary speeches raay be found in Rushworth's
collection. The following lines arc the only frag
raent of his poetry that I have ever had the good
fortune to meet Avith. They are addressed to his
accomplished fi-iend and brother townsman Browne,
the author of ' Britannia's Pastorals.'
Ingenious swaine ! that highly dost adorne
Clear Tavy, on whose brinck we both were borne !
Just praise in me would ne'er be thought to move
From thy sole worth, but from thy pariiall love :
Avherefore I will not do thee so much wrong.
As by such mixture to alloy thy song.
But while kind strangers rightly praise each grace
Of thy chaste muse, I (from the happy placj
That brouglit thee forth, and thinks it not unfit
To boast now that it erst bred such a wit)
AVould only have it knowne I much rejoice
To hear such matters sung by such a voice. John Gt.anvii.j.e.
The sons of Serjeant GlanviUe Avere also dis
tinguished for talent and Avorth. One of them,
John, Avas a barrister at laAv, Avho rose to great emi
nence in his profession : he married a daughter of
Sir Edmund Fortescue of Fallopit, DeA'on; and at

342 SONS OF SIR J. GLANVILLE. [LET.
length retired to Broad Hinton, where he died, and
was buried near his father.
Another son of the Serjeant Avas even yet more
eminent, though his career Avas as brief as it Avas
glorious. He Avas a youth of the greatest promise,
and possessed talents Avhich, had he been longer
spared, could not have failed to becorae alike ho
nourable and useful to himself and to society. But
bearing in his breast a high and martial spirit, he
could not brook standing idly looking on Avhen the
king Avas hard pressed by his enemies. He joined
the royal cause, and in the rank of lieutenant-colonel
maintained the town of BridgeAvater ftgainst the tre
mendous assault that Avas made against it by the
parliament forces In this action he showed Avon
derful gallantry and courage ; and being resolute to
keep the town till the last, ho, vrith several other
gentleraen of like spirit, fell covered with wounds
and honour in the twenty-eighth year of his age, on
the fatal 20th of July, 1645. Thus perished Fran
cis Glanviile the younger. Where he was buried is
not certainly known ; but most likely the body was
removed frora Bridgewater, as the royalists gene
rally begged their dead might be restored when
thej' were persons of eminence. Some years after,
a monument Avas erected to his memory in the
church of Broad Hinton.
Joseph GlanviUe, chaplain in ordinary to Charles
II. , and author of the famous book on Witches,'
Avas born at Plymouth ; and I only sUghtly raention
hira here, because he Avas a branch from the ancient
Kibvorthy stock of GlanviUe. Not being of our
parish, it is not my place to write his life; yet I
cannot forbear mentioning that, in addition to many

XXXI.] SONS OF SIR J. GL.\NV1LLE. 343
other works, he left a posthumous volume of sermons
that are of the highest merit, and breathe the lofty
spirit of those glorious old divines which render the
reign of Charles II. as remarkable for the learning,
the piety, the genius, a-^.d the exemplary conduct of
the clerg-y, as it was depraved and infamous in that
of the morals of the king and of the court. These
sermons have becorae very scarce ; Mr. Bray is so
fortunate as to possess a copy of them. Their charac
teristic is energy ; the atithority of the Church is
maintained with a dig'nity that becomes the subject,
and the boldest arguments (though they must have
been little pleasing to many hearers of his day) are
brought forward and enforced Avith the most power
ful eloquence of feeling- and of truth.
It is melancholy to relate — such are the changes
of time and fortune — that the last descendant of the
elder branch of the illustrious family of GlanviUe
died a very fcAV years ago in the poor-house at
Bradstone in this neighbourhood. He Avas a hunts
man, and known by the narae of Jack GlanviUe.
From all I can learn about him, he appears to have
been an original character ; possessed of a good deal
of sense, and sorae humour ; and valued himself on
his blood, of Avhich he considered there was none
nobler in the Avhole county of Devon. When I
heard of the obscure state in which he Avas brought
up and died, I could not help thinking Avhat a fit
object he Avould have been, in early life, to have
profited by the charitable bequest of his good and
great ancestor, the Serjeant — and a university edu
cation might have rescued the last of the Une from
debasement and poverty, and have once more re
stored it to an honourable place in the famiUes of

3-14 LAST OF THE GLANA'ILLES. [l-ET.
Devon. But he is dead and gone, the elder Une
extinct ; and it is but one more example that there
is no permanence in the families of the great, but
that found in the merit and virtues of the individuals
that compose them.
Tavistock also gave birth to the celebrated Sir
John Maynard, Serjeant at Law. His father, Alex
ander, was a younger branch of the Maynards of
Brixton, and removing to Tavistock, he resided in a
house that stood on the site of the Abbey, where his
son John Avas born. The character and fame of
Maynard are so intimately connected Avith the history
of this county, that they can alone be appreciated
by those Avho render themselves familiar Avitli the
stirring events of the years in Avhicli he lived. In
the times of Charles I., though Clarendon says "he
had too much complied and concurred Avith their
irregular and unjust proceedings,'' he nevertheless
argued stoutly against the treasonable measure of
voting in the house that no more appeals or ad
dresses be made to the king. During the struggle
between popery and protestantism in the reign of
James II., he stood firm, and throughout his long
life he Avas not less distinguished for his integrity in
public affairs than he Avas for his profound legal
skill. lie frequently took his seat in the house as
member for Beer Alston, a sraall town that Avas first
represented in the reign of Elizabeth.
Little is recorded of Maynard's private life, but
that little is to his honour. He was of a munificent
disposition, and managed Avith great care and pru
dence the large sums of which he became trustee,
for various charities, on the death of the donor, his
friend Mr. Elizseus Healc. He also, from his own

XXXI. J SIR J. MAYNARD. 345
estate, devoted a considerable sum to the uses of
charity. He lived to a very great age ; and after
the landing of King WiUiam, Avhen presented at
court, the king on being told that Sir John May
nard was upAvards of ninety years old, observed to
him that he must haA'e outlived all the judges and
eminent men of his day. " Yes," replied the veteran
lawyer, " and I should have outlived the laws too, if
it had not been for the happy arrival of your
majesty." Sir John Maynard died in 1690, and was suc
ceeded in his large possessions by a son, who be
queathed them to his two daughters in default of
raale issue ; both ladies Avere nobly married, the one
into the house of Hobart, Earl of Buckinghamshire,
and the other to the Earl of Stamford. Where
Seijeant Maynard Avas buried I do not knoAv; there
is no monument to him in our church, and his name
is totally forgotten in the place ; not the slightest
tradition exists concerning him, Avhicli induces mc
to believe that he never resided at Tavistock after
his entrance on public life.

LIDFORD CASCADE,
Situated at the distance of about seven miles from Tavistock.
It has just occurred to rae, my dear Sir, that I
have omitted sending some notice of a raost in
teresting spot in our neighbourhood; I therefore
add, by Avay of postscript to the foregoing letter, the
following extract frora an old journal of Mr. Bray : —
" The path that leads to the Cascade winds down
a steep coppice-wood ; and the descent to the river
q3

346 LIDFORD CASCADE. [lET.
Lid, that floAvs beneath, is not a little difficult, being
nearly covered Avith loose stones that slide under one
at every step. But beforie the foot encounters these
dangers, the eye may be gratified Avith a striking
view of the toAver and castle of Lidford, backed by
the distant hills of Dartmoor, at the end of a deep
ravine, formed by the inter] unction of several woody
promontories. " At the bottom of the hill, after walking a short
distance by the side of the Lid, on turning round a
projecting rock, the cascade bursts suddenly upon
the sight. The surprise is for a while kept up by
the appearance of such a continuity of foam rush
ing from so precipitous a height. To this the
native blackness of the rock, rendered raore so by
the glossiness of humidity, forms a striking con
trast. But, ere long, reflection shoAvs the defects
that did not at first present themselves. The fall is
too perpendiciUar to be picturesque ; and the space
in front is so confined that you can hardly get
either on the one side or the other to throw it into
an oblique direction. It is not sufficiently wide, nor
broken ; there being only one place, as seen from
below, where there is any projection of the Avater.
And the stream is generally so small that it merely
trickles down the rock, unless increased by rains, or
discharged in a ton-ent from the sluice above; for
it is nothing but a mill-stream that is thus hurried
from a Avoody height into the river Lid beneath.
Sorae years ago the trees, Avhich have been since
cut down and are succeeded by a Idnd of low cop
pice Avood, served in a degree to break it, and cer
tainly greatly added to the beauty of the scene.
" In order to form an idea of the real height of the

XXXI.] LIDFORD CASCADE. 347
cascade, I forced my way through the bushes, and
over some boggy ground to the spot where what
may be properly considered as the fall begins. It
is a narrow channel between the summits of two
Avoody promontories. That on the left terminates
in a perpendicular rock about thirty feet above the
stream. To avoid this obstacle Ave crossed the
Avater and climbed up the opposite side. By the
assistance of the boughs, for the Avhole is a coppice
wood, we let ourselves doAvn on a rock about tAventy
feet from the head of the cascade, at the bottom of
what raay be called the first fall. Here the Avater
flows doAvn the surface of a smooth sloping rock,
alraost in a regular curve ; Arithin which is a deep
hoUoAv recess, Avhich I at first thought the entrance
to a cave, but found that it reached vea-y little within
the sloping rock aboA'e described, A tree, throw
ing itself across from the opposite side of this re
cess, added much to the effect, Avhich was not a little
increased by the fern and other pendant plants
nodding on the top.
" At this spot my servant tied a cord to one of
the branches of the trees, and descended by the side
of the stream, whilst I reraained to untie it when
he should give the signal by shaking it. This being
given, I foUoAved him and found for about fifty feet
the channel is sinuous and broken. Here, as there
is almost a straight and smooth descent, we threw
the lead into the midst of the water, and it was car
ried down with the utmost rapidity to the top ofthe
last fall, the distance of about one hundred feet.
"The effect of the cascade is here particularly
striking, as you see an unbroken continuance of
foam descending in a straight Une, till, by leaping

348 LIDFORD BRIDGE. [lET.
OA'cr a more perpendicular fall, it is lost to the eye,
aud the scene terminated by the flat and narrow
dingle through which the river finds its way below.
The scene Avas altogether so novel as hardly to
appear naturab but seemed as if it were inverted by
reflexion, and not much unlike the effect produced by
bending the head so as to see objects vvith the eye
almost upside down. Tho last fall is about sixty
feet, so that the whole height, according to my cal
culation, is about tvA'o hundred and thirty feet : of
course, howeA'er, a deduction must be made from
this oblique direction to bring it to its perpendicular
or real height.
" On ascending by the regular path, through the
coppice, I could not but take a farewell look at the
fall below. About half way up the path deviates to
the bottom of a rock, Avhere you catch through the
trees a view of the cascade in its greatest impe
tuosity; and, at a considerable depth beneath, the
same stream peaceably pursuing its course to join
the Lid, small in itself, and still more diminished by
the distance.
" Lidford Bridge," continues Mr. Bray, " is, per
haps, a greater object of curiosity than the water
fall, from Avliich it is distant about half a mile ; as
few bridges are so romantically situated, or buUt
over so deep a chasm; while there are cascades
innumerable, probably of equal height, and certainly
of greater quantity of water.
" It is not seen tiU the traveller, at a turn of the
road, is almost upon it ; and many, it is said, have
passed it Avithout knowing it was the object of their
search. Camden teUs us that ' the water is not to
be seen, but only the murmur to be heard.' This is

XXXI.l LIDFORD BRIDGE. " 349
not the case at present; though a few years since,
indeed, before some trees Avere cut down, it Avas
so overhung vvith branches, and their shade, that the
stream below could scarcely be distinguished. By this
obscurity, also, a greater impression, no doubt, Avas
made upon the raind, and the imagination Avas easily
misled into exan'S'eration, oo
" By destroying them, particularly on the north
east side of the river, another disadvantage has
ensued ; for, holding by their branches and resting
against their trunks, it was possible to let one's self
doAvn so as to have a view of the bridge overhead,
and the Avater dashing amid the rocks beneath. It
is best seen now from a field on the south-west side,
through some trees, Avhence may be discerned the
bridge covered with ivy hanging in wild luxuriance,
the narrow and broken chasm, with some trees
starting from its sides, and the Avater foaming below
through its rocky channel. On the left hand Lid
ford tovA'cr opportunely presents itself to improA'c
and identify the picture.
" Mr. Polwhele presents us with many different
descriptions of the bridge, as Avell as the cascade
at Lidford, but almost all of them greatly exagge
rated. Risdon, as quoted by him, speaking of the
river beneath, says, ' It maketh such a hideous noise,
that, being only heard and not seen, it causeth a kind
of fear to the passengers, seeming to thera that look
down to it a deep abyss, and may be numbered
araongst the AVonders of this kingdom.'
" A person is said to have arrived at Lidford in
the middle of the night, to the great astonishment
of the inhabitants, on finding from him that he came
in the direction of the bridge, as they knew it had

350 LIDFORD. [let.
been lately broken down. The traveller, however,
had remarked nothing more than that his horse
had made a sudden spring; but on being after
Avards led to the tremendous chasm, he was struck
with a mingled sensation of horror, surprise, and
thankfulness at the danger he had so providentially
escaped, "Another remarkable occurrence happened not
many years since on the same spot. Captain
Williams having formed the dreadful resolution of
destroying himself, rode from Exeter, late at night,
to Lidford Bridge, and endeavoured to spur his
horse over the parapet, as was afterwards disco
vered by the marks of its shoes on the stones ; but
finding his efforts useless he turned the horse adrift,
and, in hopes to conceal the deed, threw the saddle
and bridle over the bridge, and followed afterwards
hiraself. But, as the forraer became entangled in
the branches of the trees, they soon led to a dis
covery, and the body of the unfortunate sufferer Avas
found amid the rocks beloAv.
"Lidford,* that hardly deserves uoav even the
name of a village, was a place of such antiquity and
consequence as, according to tradition, to have en
tertained Julius Csesar and his whole army on his
second arrival in this island. But in the year 997
it was spoUed and ravaged by the Danes at the
time they pillaged and burnt the Abbey of Tavis
tock, and laid siege to Exeter.
"It recovered, however, from their inhuman de
predations, and in the time of the Conqueror sent
* Lidford, or Lyghatford, was a. town of some note during the
Saxon heptarchy. Among " specimens of the names of places frora
the Saxon Chronicle," Polwhele has " Illidaford, Lids-ford, Lidford."

xxxi. J LIDFORD. 351
members to ParUament, and had one hundred and
twenty-two, or according to others, one hundred and
forty burgesses. Lidford sent members in the
twenty-eighth and thirtieth of EdAvard 1. Indeed it
appears by Doomsday Book that it was Avont to be
taxed at the same time, and after the sarae manner
Avith London itself.
" And as a proof of its importance, the custody of
the castle Avas generally committed to persons of the
greatest quality. It is the largest parish in the
county, or even in the kingdora, as it contains within
its liraits the vA'hole forest of Dartmoor*. The im
mense extent of this parish, and the distance of some
of its hamlets and villages from the church, caused a
petition from several of the parishioners to Walter,
Bishop of Exeter, dated 13th September, 1260. In
this petition they represented the inconvenience of
their attending dirine serrice. In consequence of
which the bishop ordered, Avith the consent of the
patrons, that the inhabitants of Balbery and Pur-
sliill, two villages on the moor, on account of
their distance from Lidford, their mother church
' being eight miles in fair, and fifteen in foul Avea-
ther,' should resort to Withecombe church; and for
such their pririleges should pay their tithe lambs,
and three parts of their offerings to the parson of
Withecombe, and all other tithes to thefr mother
church. "'Lidford had the privUege of minting in the
Anglo-Saxon times.' The mint continued there but
a short period, chiefly through the boisterous reign
of Ethelred II,, and the coins are consequently rare.
* By a late judicial decision, however, a portion of it belongs lo
the parish of Widdecombe, or Withecombe.

352 LIDFORD CASTLE. [lET.
There are two or three of them in the late Dr. Hun
ter's cabinet.*
"The Castle is a square building, standing on a
heap or mound, probably artificial. The entrance
is at the north-west. Before it is a spacious area,
with a gentle slope, enclosed by two parallel mounds.
At the end of this the ground begins to be very
precipitous in its descent ; which continues, with tho
opposite side alraost equally steep, till it joins the
river near the bridge. Thus Lidford must have
been a place of considerable strength, approachable
only towards the north-east. This naturaUy accounts
for its high antiquity ; as there can be no doubt but
that the Britons availed theraselves of its local ad
vantages in the earliest ages.
'' The stairs and floors of the Castle cannot now be
trodden Avithout danger, as the greater part of the
boards are Avanting. The judge's chair, however,
reraains, and the royal arms over it, in perfect
preservation. The infamous Jeffi-ies is reported
to haA'e beeu the last Avho presided in it. The
only thing that seeras to have elevated the judge
above the rest of the court, is a foot-board at the
bottom of the chair. There are rails in front about
eight feet distant, f The counsel-table has been
removed only Avithin these foAV years. + The ascent
to the roof, Avhence there is a striking and varied
view of the neighbouring hiUs, intersected with deep
dells, and bounded on the east by the Dartmoor
* Polwbele's Devon, Vol. I, p. 242.
t Since the above description of the Castle was written, it is so gone
to ruin that nothing but the bare walls remain.
X " AVe find upon record that fhe Assizes, at tho commencement of
this period (temp. Edward I.), were held at Exeter and Lidford al
ternately."— Polwhele, Vol. I, p. 270.

XXXI.] ANOTHER CASCADE. 353
¦tors, and on the Avest by those of CornAvall, is by
steps carried up within the thickness of the wall.
" To the dungeon, which is about sixteen feet by
ten, the descent must have been by a ladder, and
probably through a trap-door. If this were the
case it Avas completely dark, as there is no Avindow
in it, and the room above is lighted only by a single
narrow loop-hole." Within this castle Avas the
prison for offenders against the stannary laws,
which, in an act of parliament of the year 1512, is
described as " one of the most hanious, contagious,
and detestable places in the realm." That it had
not much improved in its repute a century after
Avards, appears from Browne's raention of it in one
of his poems in the reign of King James :
" To lie therein oue night 'tis guest
'T were better to be stoned and prest.
Or han"-"d — now choose vou whether," *

"About half a mile distant from Lidford, up the
river, is another Cascade, called Kitt's Steps, or Kitt's
Hole. It is conjectured that the name of Kitt ori
ginated from the circurastance of a Avoman called
Catharine, or Kitty, having lost her life here. She
was returning from market on the Oakhampton road,
which passes very near it, and was riding on a
horse Avith crooks, implements, it is believed, almost
peculiar to the west of England. The river Lid
was SAVoUen by some heavy rain that had lately
fallen on the moor, Avhere it takes its rise, and both
horse and rider Avere carried aAvay by the impetu
osity of the torrent. The Avoraan Avas unfortunately
droAvned, prevented probably by tbe crooks from
* See Lyson's Hist.

354 kitt's steps. [let.
"passing through the rocks ; but the horse was found
quietly grazing on the bank of the rner below.
" This ' cataract,' if it can be called so, may be
said to be situated within the recess of a bold and
precipitous hill ; but it is hardly deserving, I think,
the name AA'hich is given to it by Polwhele of a ' high
promontory .'' I heard no 'echoes of aquatic thunder
among the hills;' but it is right perhaps to state
that it had not raiiied the preceding day, nor indeed
for many days before. It may be proper also to
mention that sorae of the Avater is now taken from
its original channel for the purpose of working a
mine ; but as it falls again over some rocks about
thirty feet fi-ora, and nearly opposite to, the cataract
itself, it may be doubted Avhether the noise is not
thus increased : at any rate one might naturally
expect from this circumstance to find here something
like an echo. When the Avheel is in motion and the
machinery at AVork, which did not happen to be the
case during my visit to it, there must of course be no
small addition to the noise ; and yet I very much
doubt whether, even then, it re-echoes among the
hiUs. '¦ I was afi-aid I should find the scene much in
jured by the mine ; but I have little . hesitation in
saying that I think it an improvement, at least in
point of picturesque effect. Over the river in the
foreground is throAvn a singular kind of bridge,
formed, I imagine, of part of an old wheel, or Avhim.
Beyond it, at a little distance, is seen the main fall
of the cataract ; and, considerably above it, a branch
of the river is conveyed by a wooden aqueduct,
supported upon rough poles, Avith the water drop
ping in filaments from seA'cral parts of it, to an

^^^'•]' kitt's steps. 355
•OVei-shot wheel opposite. The accompanying ma
chinery over the shaft, with the flag-staff on the
highest summit at a distance, considerably diversify
the scene; and, as the mine is in its infancy, the
heaps of rubbish, Avith which it is too frequently ac
companied, have not yet accumulated so as to offend
ihe eye.
" In order to form a correct idea of this cascade,
it will be necessary to take a view of it from the top.
The rock appears, by some convulsion of nature, to
be split into two fissures, through only one of which
the water flowed tUl lately, part of it being now
carried through the other for the purpose of AVorking
the mine.
" From the centre mass, Avhich is about tAventy
feet high, two or three large pieces of the rock, as
may be seen fi-om the incumbent part, have fallen
into the fissure, and have entirely covered it ; Avhich
no doubt gave origin to the idea, that ' the Avater
runs sorae Avay underground,' and, when overhung
Avith brushAvood, Avhich is generally the case, the
deception would be still more complete. I am con
rinced that this channel could noA'er have been
entirely forraed by 'the irresistible force of the
waters,' as the surface on either side is flat and al
most perpendicular. The rock is of a slaty nature,
with its strata, unless Avhere it was probably forced
out of its direction by the convulsion before aUuded
to, dipping southward at an angle of about forty-
five degrees. The chasm or fissure, through which
the river begins to fall, at the depth of about five
and twenty feet, is about ten across. Through it the
machinery of the mine below, Avith the Avater that
is conveyed to it faUing over some rough rocks, and

356 kitt's steps. [let. xxxi.
forming a kind of secondary cascade, is a pleasing
object; Avhilst through the other chasm are seen
at a distance the church and castle of Lidford.
VicAved from below, the Avater seems in the centre
of the chasm to rush from beneath a rock, Avliich no
doubt occasioned it to be called Kitt's Hole. After
three or four obstructions in its course, it leaps over
a ledge of rock in a perpendicular fall, but not more
than twelve or fourteen feet in height, whilst the
Avater in the basin beloAV is about elcA'en feet deep.

end OF vol. II.

Priuleil by VVii,lia.u Clowes .-in. I Sons, SUimford-Strci-t.

LIST OF NOVELS,
HISTORICAL, LEGENDARY, AND ROMANTIC,
By Mrs. Bray.
Each work, complete in 3 vols., may be had separate,
or in the series, beautifully bound, price four shillings per volume.
Published by Messrs. Smith and Elder,
CornhUl, London.
DE FOIX ; or. Sketches of the Manners and Customs
of the I4th Century ; an Historical Roraance.
In 3 vols.
THE WHITE HOODS; an Historical Romance.
In 3 vols.
THE PROTESTANT; a Tale of the reign of Queen
Wary. In 3 vols.
FITZ OF FITZ-FORD; a Legend of Devon.
In 3 vols,
THE TALBA; or Moor of Portugal.
In 3 vols.

Lateltj published by Messrs. Longman & Co., London,
WARLEIGH, or the Fatal Oak ; a Legend of Devon.
In 3 vols.
LETTERS; written during a Tour through Nor
mandy, Britanny, and other parts of France.
MEMOIRS of the LIFE of the late CHARLES A.
STOTHARD, Esq., F.S.A , &c. &e.

MRS. BRAY'S WORKS.
Preparing for the press,
By Mrs. Buay,
COLLECTIONS AND RECOLLECTIONS
ABROAD AND AT HOME.
In 3 vols.
" Truth is strange ; stranger than fiction.'

ALSO
TRELAWNY OF TRELAWN, or the Prophecy;
i Legend of Cornwall, In 3 vols.

"' The Talba.' It is but justice to say that there are very few
beauties in the dramatic or the epic of our first poets, which Mrs.
Bray has not most successfully rivalled." — Genlleman's Mugazine.

" Mrs. Bray is well, and deserves to be yet better, known for her
Historical Novels." — Quarterly Review.

" All these volumes are indeed an addition to the high literary
character of the fair and popular writer." — Literary Gazelle.

'¦ Mrs. Bray stands alone amongst our female writers of romance ;
she aims at a high standard, and accomplishes her object with mas
culine energy." — Atlas,

" "We pronounce Mrs'. Bray to he one of our first female novelists."
— New Monthly Magazine,

"The main incidents (of her novels) are of a fearful interest; the
characters various, well conceived, and natural, and are cast with'
great power and eflfect, — All Mrs, Bray's writings evince genius of
the highest order in romance," — Athenaum.

MRS. BR.AV'S AVORKS,
"Mi-s Bray's works entitle her to rank with the Erst novelists-of
her da^, '—The Times,

<¦ Her romances will survive, an example of the permanence se
cured by an adherence to the simplicity of nature, AVe scarcely
know any one so well qualified to fill up the vacuum left by the death
of Sir Walter Scott as Jlrs. Bray."— Genlleman's Magazine.

" ¦ De Foix,' and ' The White Hoods,' may be consulted as very
faithful and very pleasing chronicles of the elder day," — Quarterly
Review.

' The White Hoods ' will, we think, stand very high in its clas;
:re is a most interesting story, the most spirited sketches of ch;
er, and most faithful pictures of the times," — Literary Gazette.

ti i ^

' A^''arleigh,' From her very first productions fo the volumes
(Warleigh) now upon our table, her -works, one and all, are faitliful
transcripts of history, heightened and Invested with every charm of
fiction by the creative touch of genius — the necromantic power of
imagination." — Court Journal.

"The genius of Mrs. Bray has been so justly appreciated by an
admiring public, and we ourselves entered so fully into the peculiar
excellencies which characterize it, in the 36lst number of the Lite
rary Chronicle, when reviewing her chivalrous story of ' De Foix,'
that it will be no slight recommendation of ' The fVhite Hoods ' to
say that, as an historical romance, it is not less distinguished by
the pomp and circumstance of chivalry, by accurate delineatiou.s of
every variety of ancient manners, by an interesting narrative, and a
flowing, vigorous, and graceful style." — Literary Chronicle.

" We are weU pleased to see another production from the authoress
of ' De Foix.' That work alone showed Mrs. Bray possessed talents
of no common class." — Monthly Review,

MRS. BRAY'S WORKS.
"In ' The Protestant' are some exquisite touches of nature; and
scenes worthy to be ranked with v^ry high flights of poetry." — Gen
tleman's Magazine.

" Such scenes as these form the staple of Mrs, Bray's novel of
' The Protestant' The incidents of the tale follow oue another in
breathless rapidity, according to the hurried and fearful nature of
the times they illustrate. The heroine, Rose, is a beautiful creation,
her suflFerings are many, and her constancy under them is heroical,"
— New Monthly Magazine.

''¦'Fitz of Fitz-ford' is wrought up with exquisite skill. The
characters are finely discriminated, the descriptive parts admirable,
and the narrative never flags, Mrs. Bray's knowledge is more varied
and extensive than that of any other female writer ; she merits to be
ranked with those illustrious females who have deserved weU of their
country." — Family Magazine.

"' The Talba' 'is one of those works that astonish us with the
power of the writer, whilst they interest every feeling of the heart."
— Western Luminary.

" ' Tke Tallia' is her greatest work : its interest is deep and thrill
ing ; the characters masterly ; and the scenes of a power and pathos
that few novelists have equalled, and none excelled." — Norfolk
Chronicle.

"' AVarleigh.' Every person who admires a work of genius aud
ta.ste will read this book." — Gentleman's Magazine.

" ' AVarleigh.' In the volumes now before us, Mrs. Bray has given
a striking proof that every subject, however well known, becomes
new uuder the touch of genius." — fVoolmer's Exeter Gazette.

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