Chapter V: Part 5

About four o'clock in the afternoon he was transacting some little affair in the market-place, and had his purse in his hand, opened it and turned out some gold and silver, and from the sum picked out what he wanted and paid the man with whom he was doing business. Standing close by and watching him was a young man named William Lightfoot, who lived at Burlorn, in Egloshayle, and whom he knew well enough by sight.

Mr. Norway did not leave Bodmin till shortly before ten o'clock, and he had got about nine miles to ride before he would reach his house. The road was lonely and led past the Dunmeer Woods and that of Pencarrow.

He was riding a grey horse, and he had a companion, who proceeded with him along the road for three miles and then took his leave and branched off in another direction.

A farmer returning from market somewhat later to Wadebridge saw a grey horse in the road, saddled and bridled, but without a rider. He tried at first to overtake it, but the horse struck into a gallop and he gave up the chase; his curiosity was, however, excited, and upon meeting some men on the road, and making inquiry, they told him that they thought that the grey horse that had just gone by them belonged to Mr. Norway. This induced him to call at the house of that gentleman, and he found the grey steed standing at the stable gate. The servants were called out, and spots of blood were found upon the saddle. A surgeon was immediately summoned, and two of the domestics sallied forth on the Bodmin road, in quest of their master. The search was not successful that night, but later, one of the searchers perceiving something white in the little stream of water that runs beside the highway and enters the river Allen at Pendavey Bridge, they examined it, and found the body of their unfortunate master, lying on his back in the stream, with his feet towards the road, and what they had seen glimmering in the uncertain light was his shirt frill. He was quite dead.

The body was at once placed on the horse and conveyed home, where the surgeon, named Tickell, proceeded to examine it. He found that the deceased had received injuries about the face and head, produced by heavy and repeated blows from some blunt instrument, which had undoubtedly been the cause of death. A wound was discovered under the chin, into which it appeared as if some powder had been carried; and the bones of the nose, the forehead, the left side of the head and the back of the skull were frightfully fractured.

An immediate examination of the spot ensued when the body had been found, and on the left-hand side of the road was seen a pool of blood, from which to the rivulet opposite was a track produced by the drawing of a heavy body across the way, and footsteps were observed as of more than one person in the mud, and it was further noticed that the boots of those there impressed must have been heavy. There had apparently been a desperate scuffle before Mr. Norway had been killed.

_From a painting in the possession of Miss A. T. Norway_]

There was further evidence. Two sets of footmarks could be traced of men pacing up and down behind a hedge in an orchard attached to an uninhabited house hard by; apparently men on the watch for their intended victim.

At a short distance from the pool of blood was found the hammer of a pistol that had been but recently broken off.

Upon the pockets of the deceased being examined, it became obvious that robbery had been the object of the attack made upon him, for his purse and a tablet and bunch of keys had been carried off.

Every exertion was made to discover the perpetrators of the crime, and large rewards were offered for evidence that should tend to point them out. Jackson, a constable from London, was sent for, and mainly by his exertions the murderers were tracked down. A man named Harris, a shoemaker, deposed that he had seen the two brothers, James and William Lightfoot, of Burlorn, in Egloshayle, loitering about the deserted cottage late at night after the Bodmin fair; and a man named Ayres, who lived next door to James Lightfoot, stated that he had heard his neighbour enter his cottage at a very late hour on the night in question, and say something to his wife and child, upon which they began to weep. What he had said he could not hear, though the partition between the cottages was thin.

This led to an examination of the house of James Lightfoot on February 14th, when a pistol was found, without a lock, concealed in a hole in a beam that ran across the ceiling. As the manner of Lightfoot was suspicious, he was taken into custody.

On the 17th his brother William was arrested in consequence of a remark to a man named Vercoe that he was in it as well as James. He was examined before a magistrate, and made the following confession:--

"I went to Bodmin last Saturday week, the 8th instant, and on returning I met my brother James just at the head of Dunmeer Hill. It was just come dim-like. My brother had been to Burlorn, Egloshayle, to buy potatoes. Something had been said about meeting; but I was not certain about that. My brother was not in Bodmin on that day. Mr. Vercoe overtook us between Mount Charles Turnpike Gate at the top of Dunmeer Hill and a place called Lane End. We came on the turnpike road all the way till we came to the house near the spot where the murder was committed. We did not go into the house, but hid ourselves in a field. My brother knocked Mr. Norway down; he snapped a pistol at him twice, and it did not go off. Then he knocked him down with the pistol. He was struck whilst on horseback. It was on the turnpike road between Pencarrow Mill and the directing-post towards Wadebridge. I cannot say at what time of the night it was. We left the body in the water on the left side of the road coming to Wadebridge. We took money in a purse, but I do not know how much it was. It was a brownish purse. There were some papers, which my brother took and pitched away in a field on the left-hand side of the road, into some browse or furze. The purse was hid by me in my garden, and afterwards I threw it over Pendavey Bridge. My brother drew the body across the road to the water. We did not know whom we stopped till when my brother snapped the pistol at him. Mr. Norway said, 'I know what you are about. I see you.' We went home across the fields. We were not disturbed by any one. The pistol belonged to my brother. I don't know whether it was broken; I never saw it afterwards; and I do not know what became of it. I don't know whether it was soiled with blood. I did not see any blood on my brother's clothes. We returned together, crossing the river at Pendavey Bridge and the Treraren fields to Burlorn village. My brother then went to his house and I to mine. I think it was handy about eleven o'clock. I saw my brother again on the Sunday morning. He came to my house. There was nobody there but my own family. He said, 'Dear me, Mr. Norway is killed.' I did not make any reply."

The prisoner upon this was remanded to Bodmin gaol, where his brother was already confined, and on the way he pointed out the furze bush in which the tablet and the keys of the deceased were to be found. James Lightfoot, in the meantime, had also made a confession, in which he threw the guilt of the murder upon his brother William.

This latter, when in prison, admitted that his confession had not been altogether true. He and his brother had met by appointment, with full purpose to rob the Rev. W. Molesworth, of S. Breock, returning from Bodmin market, and when James had snapped his pistol twice at Mr. Norway, he, William, had struck him with a stick on the back of his head and felled him from his horse, whereupon James had battered his head and face with the pistol.

The two wretched men were tried at Bodmin on March 30th, 1840, before Mr. Justice Coltman, and the jury returned a verdict of "Guilty"; they were accordingly both sentenced to death, and received the sentence with great stolidity.

Up to this time the brothers had been allowed no opportunity for communication, and the discrepancy in their stories distinctly enough showed that the object of each was to screen himself and to secure the conviction of the other.

After the passing of the sentence on them, they were conveyed to the same cell, and were now, for the first time, allowed to approach each other. They had scarcely met before, in the most hardened manner, they broke out into mutual recrimination, using the most horrible and abusive language of each other, and, not content with this, they flew at each other's throat, so that the gaolers were obliged to interfere and separate them and confine them in separate apartments.

On April 7th their families were admitted to bid them farewell, and the scene was most distressing. On Monday morning, April 13th, they were both executed, and it was said that upwards of ten thousand persons had assembled to witness their end.

As Mr. Norway's family was left in most straitened circumstances, a collection was made for them in Cornwall, and the sum of £3500 was raised on their behalf.

William Lightfoot was aged thirty-six and James thirty-three when hanged at Bodmin.

There is a monument to the memory of Mr. Norway in Egloshayle Church.

In the _Cornwall Gazette_, 17th April, 1840, the portraits of the murderers were given. Mention is made of the tragedy in C. Carlyon's _Early Years_, 1843. He gives the following story. At the time of the murder, Edmund Norway, the brother of Nevill, was in command of a merchant vessel, the _Orient_, on his voyage from Manilla to Cadiz. He wrote on the same day as the murder:--

"Ship _Orient_, from Manilla to Cadiz,

"_Feb._ 8th, 1840.

"About 7.30 p.m. the island of S. Helena, N.N.W., distant about
seven miles, shortened sail and rounded to, with the ship's head
to the eastward; at eight, set the watch and went below--wrote a
letter to my brother, Nevell Norway. About twenty minutes or a
quarter before ten o'clock went to bed--fell asleep, and dreamt I
saw two men attack my brother and murder him. One caught the horse
by the bridle and snapped a pistol twice, but I heard no report;
he then struck him a blow, and he fell off the horse. They struck
him several blows, and dragged him by the shoulders across the
road and left him. In my dream there was a house on the left-hand
side of the road. At five o'clock I was called, and went on deck
to take charge of the ship. I told the second officer, Mr. Henry
Wren, that I had had a dreadful dream, and dreamt that my brother
Nevell was murdered by two men on the road from S. Columb to
Wadebridge; but I was sure it could not be there, as the house
there would have been on the right-hand side of the road, but it
must have been somewhere else. He replied, 'Don't think anything
about it; you West-country people are superstitious; you will make
yourself miserable the remainder of the passage. He then left the
general orders and went below. It was one continued dream from the
time I fell asleep until I was called, at five o'clock in the
morning.

"EDMUND NORWAY,
"Chief Officer, Ship _Orient_."

There are some difficulties about this account. It is dated, as may be seen, February 8th, but it must have been written on February 9th, after Mr. Norway had had the dream, and the date must refer to the letter written to his brother and to the dream, and not to the time when the account was penned.

From the Cape of Good Hope to S. Helena the course would be about N.N.W., and with a fair wind the ship would cover about eighty or ninety miles in eight hours. So that at noon of the day February 8th she would be about one hundred miles S.S.E. of S. Helena, i.e. in about 5° W. longitude, as nearly as possible. The ship's clock would then be set, and they would keep that time for letter-writing purposes, meals, ship routine, etc.

Ship, long. 5° 0' 0" W.
Bodmin " 4° 40' 0" W.
---------
Difference 20' 0"

The difference would be twenty minutes of longitude, and the difference in time between the two places one degree apart is four minutes. Reduce this to seconds:--

4 × 60 × 20
----------- = 80 sec., i.e. 1 min. 20 sec.
60

Therefore, if the murder was committed, say, at 10h. 30m. p.m. Bodmin time, the time on the ship's clock would be 10h. 28m. 40s. p.m. An inconsiderable difference.

The log-book of Edmund Norway is said to be still in existence.

One very remarkable point deserves notice. In his dream Mr. Edmund Norway saw the house on the right hand of the road, and as he remembered, on waking, that the cottage was on the left hand, he consoled himself with the thought that if the dream was incorrect in one point it might be in the whole. But he was unaware that during his absence from England the road from Bodmin to Wadebridge had been altered, and that it had been carried so that the position of the house was precisely as he saw it in his dream, and the reverse of what he had remembered it to be.

Another point to be mentioned is that one of the murderers wore on that occasion a coat which Mr. Norway had given him a few weeks before, out of charity.

Both brothers protested that they had not purposed the murder of Mr. Norway but of the Rev. Mr. Molesworth, parson of S. Breock, who they supposed was returning with tithe in his pocket. This, however, did not agree with the evidence that William Lightfoot had watched him counting his money at Bodmin, and then had made off.

On the occasion of the discovery of the murder, Sir William Molesworth sent his bloodhounds to track the murderers, but because they ran in a direction opposed to that which the constables supposed was the right one they were recalled. The hounds were right, the constables wrong.

SIR WILLIAM LOWER, KNT.

Sir William Lower was the only son of John Lower, and was born at Tremere, in S. Tudy, about the year 1600.

The Lowers were a very ancient family in Cornwall, seated in S. Winnow parish, and at Clifton, in Landulph, at which latter place lived Sir Nicholas Lower, the brother of John, whilst the eldest brother, Sir William, settled at Treventy, in Carmarthen, having married the daughter and co-heiress of Sir Thomas Pescott, of that place. John had two other brothers knights, Sir Francis and Sir Thomas.

William was not educated at Oxford, but, as Wood says, "spent some time in Oxon, in the condition of _hospes_, for the sake of the public library and scholastical company." He exhibited a "gay fancy," and a mighty aversion from the dry and crabbed studies of logic and philosophy.

Leaving Oxford, he spent some time in France, where he became a master of the French tongue, and acquired a great admiration for the dramatic compositions of Corneille, Quirault, and Ceriziers, and in after years amused himself with translating some of their plays.

When the troubles broke out in England he took the King's side, and in 1640 was a lieutenant in Sir Jacob Ashley's regiment in Northumberland's army against the Scotch Covenanters, and was then appointed captain, but lost his company, that proved mutinous and deserted. "It was a marvellous thing," says a writer of the time, "to observe the averseness of the common soldiers to this war. Though commanders and gentlemen of great quality, in pure obedience to the King, seemed not at all to dispute the cause or consequence of this war, the common soldiers would not be satisfied, questioning, in a mutinous manner, whether their captains were papists or not, and in many places were not appeased till they saw them receive the sacrament; laying violent hands on divers of their commanders, and killing some, uttering in bold speeches their distaste of the cause, to the astonishment of many, that common people should be sensible of public interest and religion, when lords and gentlemen seemed not to be."

Pub May 21 1800 by W Richardson N^o 31 Strond]

In June, 1644, being a lieutenant-colonel in Thomas Blague's regiment and lieutenant-governor of Wallingford, Lower received orders from the King to raise £50 a week from the town of Reading. Lower at once laid hands on the mayor and carried him to Wallingford as a hostage; he then plied the corporation with demands for the money, without which their head would not be restored to them. The corporation, however, did not value their mayor so highly that they were disposed to pay £50 per week for the privilege of having him restored to them. Lower was taken prisoner by the garrison of Abingdon on 19th January, 1645-6, and Charles rewarded him for his zeal by conferring on him knighthood.

He remained in England for nearly ten more years and saw the ruin of the Royal cause, which he did care for, and of the Church, for which he cared not a rush. In 1655 he quitted England and went to Cologne, which was full of refugees, and there he was cheered with the tidings that Oliver Cromwell was failing in health and had not long to live. Leaving Cologne, after a brief residence there, he "took sanctuary in Holland, where in peace and privacy he enjoyed the society of the Muses," says Langhorn.

His _The Phœnix in Her Flames_, a tragedy in four acts, had been published in 1639. _The Innocent Lady, or the Illustrious Innocence_, translated from the French of R. de Ceriziers, was published in 1654. Now in Holland he worked hard at other translations, and he was the more able to do this at ease, as the Princess Royal Mary of Orange seems to have taken him into her retinue at the Hague. If the Court was anything like what it was when James Howell was there, it must have been vastly dull for the lively and dissolute Sir William Lower. But his stay was enlivened by the arrival of Charles and the intrigues there carried on with the well-affected in England.

At the Hague he issued a thin royal folio, with many plates, entitled "A relation in form of Journal of the voiage and residence which the most excellent and most mighty Prince, Charles the II, King of Great Britain, etc., hath made in Holland, from the 25th of May to the 2nd of June, 1660, rendered into English from the original French. By Sir W. Lower, Knt. Printed by Adrian Ulack." This was published in Dutch, French, and English, and at the end of the volume Sir W. Lower inserted his poems, and an apology for the "tardive appearance (of the book) due to those men who grave the plates."

Such "poems" as he has given as his own show conclusively enough that he was not a poet, but a mere hammerer together of rhymes.

In June, 1660, calculating on his services rendered to Charles I and to the sumptuous book on the residence in Holland of Charles II that he had brought out, Lower appealed to Secretary Nicholas from The Hague to obtain for him some place in the King's service. But the death of his cousin Thomas, only son of Sir William Lower, of Treventy, who died on 5th February, 1661, by which he became sole heir, executor, and chief representative of the family, recalled him to England. He did not, however, enjoy ease long, for he died in the ensuing year, 1662, leaving an only child, Elizabeth, who probably died early, for nothing further is known of her than that she was in existence when her father died. Who the wife of Sir William Lower was is not known.

His cousin, Dr. Richard Lower, of S. Paul's, Covent Garden, who gave Wood information relative to his kinsman, described him as "an ill poet and a worse man."

His long residence abroad, his dissociation from Cornwall for all his life save his early boyhood, his separation from his kinsmen, had broken all the ties that linked him to his family and county; and when he inherited the estates and was in a position to assist his kinsmen who had been greatly reduced by the civil wars, "he did not, but followed the vices of poets."

THE PIRATES AT PENZANCE

An event occurred at Penzance in the year 1760 that deserves to be remembered. Great Britain had been engaged in the Seven Years War; and notwithstanding the successes of 1759, when Rodney bombarded Havre, Boscawen had routed and dispersed the Toulon fleet off Lagos, and Hawke had defeated the fleet of De Conflans near Quiberon, there was still a certain amount of alarm in the country, a dread of predatory incursions, and if this fear existed inland, it was most acute upon the coast.

On the night of the 29-30th September Penzance was alarmed by the firing of guns, and soon after by the intelligence that a large ship of a strange appearance had run ashore near Newlyn. Half Penzance poured out in that direction in the grey of early morning. But on reaching the strand they were panic-stricken to see on the ship, and drawn up on the beach, a number of ferocious-looking individuals with baggy trousers, and red fezes on their heads, and each armed with a scimitar, and with brass-mounted pistols stuck in their girdles. Thereupon the half of Penzance that had turned out now turned tail and made the best of their way back to the town, crying out that the Turks had landed and were intent on massacring the inhabitants of Penzance, plundering their houses, and carrying away their wives and children into captivity to become galley-slaves or to fill the harems of these Moslem monsters.

A volunteer company was called out, the drum beat to arms, and marched to the beach, where they found 172 men, who were surrounded, deprived of their weapons, and marched to a spacious building called "The Folly," that stood on the Western Green. As there were some of the captives who could speak the _lingua franca_, and there was here and there to be found a magistrate or an officer who had a limited knowledge of French, it was at last elicited from these men that they were the crew of an Algerine corsair, carrying twenty-four guns, from nine to six pounders. The captain, believing himself to be in the Atlantic, somewhere about the latitude of Cadiz, had cheerily in the dark run his vessel into Mount's Bay, and was vastly surprised when she struck, and still more so when he found himself surrounded by Cornishmen and not by Spaniards. He had lost eight men, drowned.

No sooner was this bruited about than a second panic set in, and the good citizens of Penzance went into hysterics of fear lest these Algerine pirates should have brought with them an invasion of the plague.

A cordon of volunteers was accordingly drawn up round "The Folly" to prevent all intercourse, intelligence was conveyed to the Government, and orders were issued for troops to march from Plymouth so as to surround the whole district. However, the local authorities recovered from their terror or apprehension in time to send off information that there was no cause for such a measure, and the orders were countermanded.

After some days, when no case of plague had revealed itself among the captives, the people of the town and neighbourhood were suffered to approach and contemplate the strangers. Their Oriental dress, their long beards and moustaches, the dark complexion and glittering eyes of the piratical band, made them objects of curiosity. But they still inspired so much fear that few ventured to approach near to them.

Upon the whole, they were kindly treated, and finally, as their vessel was a complete wreck, a man-of-war was despatched to take all the men on board and convey them back to Algiers.

DAME KILLIGREW

The Killigrew family is one of the most ancient in Cornwall. It takes its name from Killigrew in the parish of S. Erme. Here stands the old nest of the family beside the high road from Truro that falls into that from Redruth to Bodmin at Casland. It is now represented by a couple of insignificant cottages, without old trees surrounding it, and the only hint that it was once the seat of a distinguished family is found in the remains of the deerpark.

The genuine pedigree of the family goes back to Ralph Killigrew of Killigrew, in the reign of Henry III. In that of Richard II, Simon Killigrew married Jane, daughter and heiress of Robert of Arwenack, near Penryn, and he quitted the ancestral mansion to move to his wife's house that was planted in a less bleak situation and was on the estuary of the Fal.

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, Sir John Killigrew of Arwenack, was Captain in Command of Pendennis Castle. He married Mary, daughter of Philip Wolverston and widow of Henry Knyvett of an Eastern counties family, but her son by Henry Knyvett settled in Cornwall, at Rosemorryn in S. Budoc. Sir John pulled down the greater portion of the ancient house and built himself another, very stately in the style of the times--but, alas! this also has disappeared, for when Sir William Waller approached Pendennis, to besiege it on behalf of the Parliament, the Governor of the Castle set fire to Arwenack lest it should give harbour to the enemy.

Sir John had a son, also called John, who married Dorothy, daughter of the impecunious Sir Thomas Monck, Knt., of Potheridge, which Sir Thomas died in the debtors' gaol at S. Thomas', by Exeter. John and Dorothy had a son, Sir John Killigrew, aged twenty-two on his father's death in 1605.

Now it fell out that Sir Walter Raleigh on his homeward voyage from Guiana put into Falmouth harbour, and found there, where the town now stands, only a fisherman's cottage. Killigrew, however, hospitably entertained Sir Walter, who expressed his surprise that so fine a harbour should have no accommodation for sailors sheltering there, and when he went to town memorialized King James on the subject. He had fired the imagination of his host, Sir John, and he also petitioned the King to grant him a royal licence to build four houses, where now stands Falmouth, for the convenience of sailors. This roused the wrath of the people of Penryn further up the river, who saw that four houses would bring in their wake many more, and would draw away the trade, and cut off the prosperity of Penryn. Accordingly they used every possible endeavour to obstruct the project. Sir John made several journeys to London, but it was only by spending a great deal of money in fees and bribery of officials that he was able to obtain the licence; and by so doing he incurred the implacable resentment of the inhabitants of Penryn.

We will now let Martin Killigrew continue the story. He wrote a history of the family in 1737 or 1738. We will somewhat simplify the reading by giving "the" for "y^e."

"The last Sir John Killigrew was hardly got over this difficulty, when he fell under a much greater affliction, the prostitution of his wife, who caused herself to be called, or unaccountably was known by the name of Lady Jane." He has already stated, "Sir John Killigrew, a sober, good man, to his utter undoing, married the daughter of an ancient and honourable family, new in the peerage, in respect to whom I forbear the name; making herself infamous, and first debauched by the Governor of Pendennis Castle." This lady was Jane, daughter of Sir George Fermon, of Northampton. Sir William, his brother, was created Baron Leominster in 1622, whose son was given the earldom of Pomfret in 1721.

"1633. FROM MAIOR TO MAIOR TO THE TOWNE OF PERMARIN, WHERE THEY RECEIVED MEE THAT WAS IN GREAT MISERY"

JANE KILLYGREW

_This Cup has been recently valued at the sum of £4,000. It measures just two feet in height_]

"Arrived to that shameful degree, Sir John, in point of honour and for quietness of mind, found himself under a necessity to prosecute a divorce from her in the Archbishop's Court, which lasted so many years and [was] so very expensive, as quite ruined his estate, to the degree of his being often put to very hard shifts to get home from London upon the frequent recesses in the process, but at length obtained the divorce in all its formal extent. This woman in such long contest was in no degree protected by her family, but supported and cherished by the town of Penryn, from their jealousy and hatred of Arwenack, as specially appears to this day, by plate by her given to the Mayor and Corporation of Penryn, when she came into her jointure, as an acknowledgment for such protection.[11] Sir John did not long outlive such his divorce, dying in 1632."

Hals says: "Jane Killigrew, widow of Sir John Killigrew, Knt., in the Spanish wars in the latter end of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, went on board two Dutch ships of the Hans Towns (always free traders in times of war) driven into Falmouth harbour by cross winds, laden with merchandise, on account (as was said) of Spaniards, and with a numerous party of ruffians, murdered the two Spanish merchants or factors on board these ships, and took from them two barrels or hogsheads of Spanish pieces of eight, and converted them to her own use."

"Now, though Fleta (lib. i. c. iii., temp. Edward II) tells us that it is no murder except it be proved that the party slain was English, and no stranger, yet afterwards by the statute 4 Edward III, the killing any foreigner under the King's protection, out of evil design or malice, is murder; upon which statute these offenders were tried and found guilty at Launceston of wilful murder, both by the grand and petty juries, and had sentence of death passed accordingly upon them, and were all executed, except the said Lady Killigrew, the principal agent and contriver of the barbarous fact, who, by the interest and favour of Sir John Arundell, of Tolverne, Knt., and his son-in-law, Sir Nicholas Hals, of Pengersick, Knt., obtained of Queen Elizabeth a pardon or reprieve for the said lady, which was seasonably put into the Sheriff of Cornwall's hands.

"At the news whereof the other condemned wretches aforesaid at the gallows lamented nothing more than that they had not the company of that old Jezebel Killigrew at that place as in justice they ought to be (to use their own words), and begged Almighty God that some remarkable judgment might befall her and her posterity, nay, and all those that were instrumental in procuring her freedom, and observed hereupon it was, that her grandson Sir William Killigrew spent the whole paternal estate of his ancestors, as did Sir Thomas Arundell, Knt., son of Sir John Arundell, aforesaid, and John Hals, Esq., son of Sir Nicolas Hals, Knt., in their own times, but alas, several and public revolutions of this kind; and all other in worldly affairs are carried on by the judgment and providence of God, not the determination of men, especially such barbarous ruffians as these criminals, though these things happened according to the malefactors' direful imprecations in some sense."

Hals in the above account makes several blunders. The affair to which he alludes took place in January, 1583, and the Dame Killigrew who was involved in it was Mary, wife of Sir John, the grandfather of the Sir John who divorced his wife Jane. Another mistake is that the ship was not one of the Hanseatic town merchant vessels, but was Spanish. Moreover, Hals is wrong in saying that the two Spanish merchants were murdered. On the contrary, Lady Killigrew's ruffians threw overboard and drowned the whole ship's crew, with the exception of the two merchants, who were on shore and so escaped.

The facts are as follows:--

The _Mary_ of S. Sebastian, a Spanish ship of 144 tons burden, owned by two merchants, John de Chavis and Philip de Oryo, the latter being as well the captain, arrived in Falmouth harbour on January 1st, 1582-3, and cast anchor within the bar, just under Sir John Killigrew's house of Arwenack. Here for lack of wind it remained, and the owners went on shore and took up their quarters in an inn at Penryn, awaiting a favourable breeze. At this time there was no open breach of peace between England and Spain. It was not till 1585 that Elizabeth sent over an army into the Netherlands to oppose the forces of Philip II, and despatched a fleet under Sir Francis Drake into the West Indies to molest the Spanish galleons and colonies there.

Lady Killigrew seems to have formed a scheme for robbing the merchant vessel and massacring the crew and the owners, and several efforts were made to induce the two merchants to quit their inn at Penryn and return on board, so that the whole of those on the vessel and the merchants might be got rid of, and not a witness left. However, this failed; Chavis and Oryo did not return to their ship.

About midnight on 7th January a boatload of men boarded the Spanish vessel and overpowered the sailors, raised the anchors, and set sail. The Spaniards were all either butchered or thrown into the sea. The ship was then taken to Ireland, where she was plundered and the spoil divided. But before this was done, two of Lady Killigrew's servants, named Kendal and Hawkins, were sent back to Arwenack with sundry bolts of Hollands and leather, as the share of Lady Killigrew, her kinswoman, Mrs. Killigrew, and the maids and servants in the house.

Lady Killigrew was highly incensed at being put off with so little, but fume as she might she could do nothing, for the ship was on its way to Ireland. What she did accordingly was to keep all that was sent on shore for herself, and distribute none of it among her household.

The two merchants now stirred, and laid formal complaint before the Commissioners for Piracy in Cornwall. Among these was Sir John Killigrew, the husband of the lady who had contrived or abetted the act. A meeting was held at Penryn, and sufficient evidence was produced to implicate Hawkins and Kendal; but this they were able to rebut by the testimony of Elizabeth Bowden, who kept a small tavern at Penryn, and who swore that up to the time that the act of piracy was committed the two men Hawkins and Kendal were drinking in her inn. The jury returned an open verdict that the ship had certainly been stolen, but by whom there was no evidence to show.

Chavis and De Oryo were not men disposed to let the matter rest thus, and having procured a safe conduct to London from the Commissioners, they proceeded thither, and laid their complaint before the higher authorities, with the result that the Earl of Bedford instructed Sir Richard Grenville and Mr. Edmund Tremayne to make a searching investigation into the affair.

As might be anticipated, this inquiry was more thorough-going and real than the other, and the truth was at last elicited from witnesses very reluctant to speak what they knew. The result arrived at was this:--

The whole plot had been contrived by Dame Killigrew, who on the Sunday in question ordered Hawkins and Kendal to board the Spaniard, along with a party of sailors and fishermen got together for the purpose. Moreover, she sent a messenger by boat to the Governor of St. Mawes Castle, to inform him that the Spanish merchants proposed to sail that night, and to request him not to hinder them from so doing. The other castle, that of Pendennis, commanding the entrance to the haven, had Sir John Killigrew as Governor, and in it all day were harboured the boarding-party destined to carry off the merchantman.

Hawkins, who was the ringleader, had been sworn to strict secrecy by Lady Killigrew, who desired to keep the whole transaction from the knowledge of her husband. The leather that fell to her share was placed in a cask and buried in the garden at Arwenack. Hawkins and Kendal were hanged at Launceston, but Lady Killigrew escaped as Hals relates. Sir John died next year; when Lady Killigrew died is not known.

On the death of the later Sir John in 1633, Arwenack passed to his nephew, as he left no issue, and that nephew, Sir Peter Killigrew, married Frances, daughter and co-heiress of Sir Roger Twysden. He had two daughters, and a son George who came to an untimely end.

He was killed in a drunken brawl in a tavern at Penryn by Walter Vincent, barrister-at-law, "who," says Hals, "was tried for his life at Launceston for the fact, and acquitted by the petty jury, through bribery and indiscreet acts and practices, as was generally said; yet this Mr. Vincent, through anguish and horror at this accident (as it was said), within two years after wasted of an extreme atrophy of his flesh and spirits, that at length at the table whereby he was sitting, in the Bishop of Exeter's palace, in the presence of divers gentlemen, he instantly fell back against the wall and died."

Frances, the eldest daughter of Sir Peter Killigrew, married Richard Erisey, and had a daughter who became the wife of John West, of Bury S. Edmunds, and by him had a daughter Frances, who married the Hon. Charles Berkeley, and through their descent the estates, or such as remained of the old family of Killigrew, passed to the Earl of Kimberley.

The history of the Killigrew family, by Martin Killigrew, was published in part by Mr. R. N. Worth in the _Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall_, Vol. III (1868-70), and the story of the seizure of the Spanish vessel by Dame Killigrew was investigated by Mr. H. M. Whitley, in the _Journal_, Vol. VII (1881-3).

FOOTNOTE:

[11] The cup is still in the possession of the Corporation of Penryn. It is of silver, will hold about three quarts, and is inscribed: "From Mayor to Mayor of the town of Penryn, where they received me in great misery. Jane Killygrew, 1613."

TWO NATURALISTS IN CORNWALL

The two men of science of whom a sketch is about to be given here were neither of them Cornishmen by birth and parentage, but, inasmuch as a long stretch of the life of each was spent in the delectable duchy, and as both were well known in it and made it the principal field of their labours, they deserve a place in this collection. These two men are John Ralfs, the botanist, and George Carter Bignell, the entomologist.

John Ralfs was born September 13, 1807, at Millbrook, near Southampton. His father, Samuel Ralfs, died when he was a year old, and to his mother was entrusted his early training. From an early age he manifested a passionate love of flowers, and as he grew older an interest in chemistry. Probably on this latter account he decided on the medical profession, and whilst studying medicine he prosecuted botanical research, so that on passing his final examination the President of the Royal College of Surgeons complimented him on his botanical knowledge, and predicted that the world would one day hear a good deal of this then "beardless boy."

He married a Miss Newman, and by her had a son, but they were in every way an ill-suited pair, and after a while they agreed to part, and she went to reside in France, taking her son with her.

Fortunately for science, Ralfs' health would not stand the arduous and anxious life of a village doctor, and he threw up his profession and wandered about in the south of England, a friendless, reserved, and taciturn man, devoting all his time and attention to botany. He settled finally in Penzance, in the year 1837, and became a familiar personality in the west of Cornwall, rambling over the moors, creeping into bogs, often on hands and knees, searching for rare plants; "a terror to timid ladies, who would scuttle away like frightened rabbits at the sight of this dark, strange man hanging over some deep pool, peering with his short-sighted eyes into what was to him a paradise, and perhaps calling out aloud, forgetful that he and nature were not alone, 'I see him! I've got him!' And often he would be seen resting on a stile, weary with his wanderings, his hat and coat almost as green as the grass on one of his favourite bogs, the marks of his last fray fresh upon them, his collar disappearing, apparently, in vain search of his cravat; gazing absently into the distance, where he saw, doubtless, beautiful and rare specimens of his Algæ and Diatomaceæ."

Mr. Ralfs was never so happy as when alone; he did not care for society, least of all that of women, and grievous deafness made it difficult for him to engage in conversation. Even with men of science like himself he did not care to associate, except through written correspondence. At Penzance he was generally regarded as "a bit total," a little, perhaps not a little, off his head; but no one could have other than a kind word to say of him, for he never injured any one. Occasionally his son came from France to pay his father a visit; but such visits were brief; their tastes were not the same, and their outlook into life was different.

Mr. Ralfs wrote a good deal. He contributed to the proceedings of many learned societies, but especially the Edinburgh Botanical Society. He was the author of the botanical chapter in the _Guide to Ilfracombe_, and of the "Sketch of the Botany of West Penwith" in Mr. J. S. Courtney's _Guide to Penzance_. Mr. J. T. Blight also was assisted by him in his _Week at the Land's End_. He helped as well in _English Botany_, by Sir James E. Smith, the figures by James Sowerby. He composed, moreover, a _Flora of West Cornwall_ that remains in MS. in the Penzance Public Library.

_From a photograph_]

Late in life he formed a tender attachment for a little child, who had somehow hitched herself on to him as a companion in his rambles. "The first overtures were entirely on her own side, and it was some time before this acquaintance ripened into friendship. She was a delicate child, and her playfellow--for such he became--prescribed Fresh Air and no Lessons; and so off they would go for long country walks, much to the benefit of her health, but to the detriment of her clothes. Of the mustard poultice that sometimes these excursions rendered necessary, and which could not be endured unless he submitted to a similar infliction; of the delightful dolls' tea parties; of the fairy tales, translated solely for her amusement from the French and German; of his selections from Thackeray and Dickens, whose characters were thus made living people to her; of the wonders that awaited her on S. Valentine's Day, when, through his skilful management, twenty or thirty valentines were to arrive for her from different parts of the country; of the choice variety of sweets he purchased for her stocking at Christmas; of all this, I wish I could discourse at greater length. It is sufficient to say that this friendship, thus begun, lasted to the end of his life, and was the means of relieving to a large extent that solitude which had before surrounded him.

"On Midsummer Day, when the custom is to wear wreaths of flowers, he would give free permission to the children to pick all the flowers in his garden, on condition that they would come to him flower-crowned in the evening, when he would entertain them royally with fruit and sweetmeats. On Corpus Christi Pleasure Fair (a red-letter day for little Cornish children) he would be seen with a small crowd of boys and girls around him, whom he would treat to all the various shows, waiting patiently, until their curiosity was satisfied, outside."

One great delight of Mr. Ralfs was the naturalizing of strange plants in the neighbourhood of Penzance, amongst others the large-flowered butterwort, and very much amused was he when some local paper with a flourish of trumpets announced the discovery of the Pinguicula by a botanical tourist, and a claim put forward that it was indigenous to Cornwall.

John Ralfs died 14 July, 1890, and was buried at Penzance.

* * * * *

The second naturalist, Mr. George Carter Bignell, is happily still alive and in full intellectual vigour, and resides in Saltash. He is a native of Exeter, having been born in that city in 1826. He was educated at S. John's Hospital in his native town, but had to leave it at the age of twelve, when he was placed in a booking-office for receiving parcels and booking passengers for the carriers who made the "Black Lion" their head-quarters when in Exeter. These carriers came from many small towns from twenty to fifty miles away. The yard and stabling were connected with the "Black Lion" and the Commercial Inn, South Street, and opposite was the office. Mr. Bignell says: "Often have I seen these lumbering wagons with twenty magnificent horses attached to them start from the office, the driver riding a cob by the side. Very often such a wagon would be conveying gold from the ships in Falmouth to the Bank of England, and in that case the wagon was attended by a guard carrying a blunderbuss."

In this office Mr. Bignell remained till he was sixteen, and in 1842 he joined the Royal Marines at Stonehouse. He saw some foreign service, and was on board the _Superb_ during the civil war in Spain in 1847, and was employed on the coasts of Spain and Portugal. He was in the squadron which succeeded in capturing a division of the rebel army of Count Das Anton, consisting of about three thousand men. Boats' crews put off from the ships of the squadron, and under a heavy fire from the forts boarded and captured every vessel. The prisoners were conveyed up the river Tagus to Fort S. Julian, where, after being deprived of arms and ammunition, they were safely lodged.

A guard, consisting of half the complement of marines from each ship, was placed over them, the whole body under the command of Major Stransham.

A few days after the capture it was discovered that ammunition was being surreptitiously conveyed into the fort by friends of the rebels, and investigation disclosed that a plot had been hatched to blow up the fort.

Count Das Anton pretended to be wholly ignorant of the conspiracy. The rebels were paraded, each man searched, and every nook and cranny in the fort thoroughly overhauled. A large quantity of gunpowder was found, and this was promptly wheeled to the parapets in barrows and thrown into the Tagus.

The guard placed over this large body of prisoners was small, and to overawe the prisoners all the marines from the ships were landed every evening at sunset and marched with fixed bayonets to the fort, with orders to make as much noise and clatter as they could; and then at night, when all was still, they stole silently away from the fort and returned on board. So well was the ruse practised every day that the prisoners were under the impression that they were guarded by a large body, and never suspected the truth. The time at the fort was not very pleasant to the marines on guard, as the place was filthy and literally swarmed with fleas, and their white drill suits were so covered with these detestable insects that the marines appeared to be dressed in brown instead of white clothing.

This was Mr. Bignell's only taste of active service. When the _Superb_ was paid off he was employed in several offices in the barracks, first as commanding officer's clerk, and afterwards he was appointed to the barracks at Millbay as barrack sergeant, and he held this appointment for seven years. By the end of this time he had served twenty-two years. Throughout all this time he had been a keen and close observer of nature. From his boyhood up natural history had exercised a great attraction for him, and as he grew up, and studied, the subject became more and more interesting. During his last seven years of service he made considerable progress, for as a barrack sergeant he had little work to do, and so had plenty of time to devote to his hobby.

After being discharged he became a member of the Plymouth Institution, with the object of finding out the names of some of the insects he had captured, and was surprised to find that it had nothing like them in its collection, nor could anybody tell him what they were.

_Reproduced by permission of Miss Loveday E. Drake_]

Mr. Bignell had barely retired from the service ere he was appointed Registrar of Births and Deaths for the Stonehouse district and also Poor Law Officer to the Stonehouse Board of Guardians; but his residence is in Saltash. All his spare time has for many years been given up to scientific pursuits, the branch of science to which he is most partial being entomology; but since his residence in Saltash he has been a profound student in marine flora. It is not only in the study of the known and hitherto unregistered insects that Mr. Bignell has acquired a world-wide fame; he has specially taken up the subject, hitherto almost untouched, of the parasites that live on insects.

To grasp what has been done by him an examination must be made of the entomological journals for the last forty years, for there he is generally in evidence. In the proceedings of the Entomological Society of London Mr. Bignell's name is quoted as being the discoverer of fifty-one parasites, nineteen being new to science and thirty-two new to Britain. In recognition of this work, one of the new species has been named after him _Mesoleius Bignellii_. The Royal Cornwall Polytechnic Society have awarded him three of their medals, a bronze one for "land and fresh water shells," a silver one for a "collection of British moths," and a second silver medal for "butterflies and moths."

In the publications of the Ray Society on the _Larvæ of British Butterflies and Moths_, at the end of each volume we find a list of parasites preying on these beautiful insects, "kindly prepared by Mr. G. C. Bignell, F.E.S."

One of the most extraordinary features of Mr. Bignell's work is the infinite delicacy wherewith even now at an advanced age he is able to draw and colour his specimens. The miniature painter of a beautiful girl's face a century ago did not take more pains to delineate the object of his admiring study than does Mr. Bignell to obtain a "counterfeit presentment" of some disgusting caterpillar or parasitic insect.

The hunting for specimens would be an exhausting toil were it not a labour of love. On one occasion Mr. Bignell obtained one hundred and forty-one caterpillars of a certain moth in Whitsand Bay, under Fort Tregantle. They were feeding on henbane, and as he did not know where else to get the right sort of food for them, he had to go out two or three times a week for the food, walking in all a hundred miles. But, alas for the ingratitude of the caterpillars, not a single moth rewarded all this devotion! Yet even this was outdone by a hundred and thirty-five mile walk in the dark to attempt to capture one sort of moth, which perhaps deserves to be mentioned for its elusive ways. It is called the _Dasycampa rubiginea_, and has to live up to its name. Plym Bridge was supposed to be its haunt, and its time of taking its walks or flutter abroad, night, and that also in midwinter. So night after night in November and December it was stalked, till one night, between the 6th and 7th December, the moth was spotted leisurely sipping honey from the flowers of the ivy growing on one of the pillars of the old gateway leading into Cann Wood between Plym Bridge and Plympton, just as the clock at Morley House was striking twelve.