Cornish Characters and Strange Events

Added to all this came violent changes in the services of the Church. Candles were forbidden to be carried on Candlemas Day, ashes to be used on Ash Wednesday, and palms on Palm Sunday; all images were to be removed from the churches, and even the sacred form of the Redeemer on the Cross above the rood was not respected.

Several of the bishops objected to these proceedings, but Somerset was inexorable. Then several colleges, chantries, and free chapels, as well as fraternities and guilds, were abolished, and their lands and goods confiscated to the King, which, being sold at very small prices, enriched many of the Protestant hangers-on of the Court, and strengthened their resolution to maintain the changes.

These violent and hasty proceedings provoked widespread discontent and even exasperation. The first disturbances arose in the county of Cornwall, where one Body, a commissioner sent down to "purify" the churches, was stabbed in the back whilst pulling down images in a church.35 Thence they quickly spread into the counties of Devon, Wilts, Somerset, Hants, Sussex, Kent, Essex, Gloucester, Hereford, Worcester, Leicester, Oxford, Norfolk, and York. In most parts the rioters were quickly put down, but the disorders in Devonshire and Norfolk threatened more dangerous consequences (1549). The commotion first broke out at Sampford Courtenay on Whit Monday, the day after the Act for reforming the Church Service had been put in force. The people assembled and forced the priest to say Mass in the ancient manner, instead of using the Book of Common Prayer. The commotion spread through the adjoining parishes, and many came up out of Cornwall; many of the disaffected gentry of the two counties placed themselves at the head of the insurgents; among them were Sir Thomas Pomeroy, Mr. Coffin, and Mr. Humphry Arundell, and the body swelled to 10,000 men. They then laid siege to Exeter, but the citizens shut their gates against them. Some attempts were made to scale the walls, which being repulsed, the rebels endeavoured to gain admittance by burning the gates. The citizens, by adding more wood to the fires, kept the enemy back till they had raised fresh defences within. After this the insurgents sought to effect a breach by mining the walls. Having completed their mine, laid their powder, and rammed the mouth, before they could explode it the citizens had drenched the powder by means of a countermine filled with water.

Lord Russell, glutted with the plunder of the Church, was sent to relieve the city, but the rebels cut down trees and laid them in his way, so that he could not approach, and after burning some villages he determined on withdrawing to Honiton. He now found his retreat cut off, and he was constrained to give battle on Clyst Heath, and defeated them with great slaughter, killing 600 men. "Such was the valour and stoutness of these men," says Hooker, "that the Lord Grey reported himself that he never, in all the wars that he had been in, did know the like." The ringleaders were taken and executed. The vicar of S. Thomas by Exeter, who was with them, was conveyed to his church and hanged from the tower, where his body was left to dangle for four years.

The defeat was on the 7th August, and the rebels were pursued to Launceston, every one falling into the hands of the King's troops being put to death. Arundell and other gentlemen were, however, taken prisoners. The Lords of the Council wrote to Lord Russell on the 21st August congratulating him on his success, and directing him to search for Sir Thomas Pomeroy, and to "send up Sir Humphry Arundell, Maunder, and the Mayor of Bodmin, and two or three of the rankest traitors." They desired him to delay a short time the issue of a general pardon. In the same month Lord Russell, William, Lord Grey of Wilton, and Sir William Herbert, informed the Council that they sent up Pomeroy, Arundell, and other prisoners; and they observed that Castle, Arundell's secretary, went up not as a prisoner, but as an accuser of his former employer.

Nicholas Boyer, the Mayor of Bodmin, had escaped capture. But the King's army pursued the dispersed Cornishmen into the duchy; and Sir Anthony Kingston, Provost-Marshal, arrived at Bodmin, where the Mayor was snugly ensconced in his house, and congratulating himself on his escape, trusted that it was not known that he had taken part in the rising.

No sooner was Sir Anthony in the town than he wrote to Boyer, announcing his intention of dining with him on a certain day. The Mayor felt highly honoured at such a mark of confidence and condescension, and made great preparations, brought out his best plate and linen and wine, and ordered pasties and siskins and dainty cates of all kinds to be prepared in his kitchen, so as to receive his guest with becoming hospitality.

A little before dinner the Provost took him aside and whispered in his ear that execution must that day be done in the town, and nowhere so suitably as in the street in front of Boyer's door, and he desired that a gallows might be erected by the time the dinner was ended. The Mayor complied with the request, and during the meal the hammering of the carpenters could be heard. The Provost was cheery and jocose, and if Boyer had been nervous at first, this wore off under the friendly conversation of his guest.

When dinner was concluded, Sir Anthony asked if the little job he had ordered had been carried out, and when Boyer assured him that it was so, "I pray you," said the Provost, "bring me to the place." Thereupon he took the Mayor by the hand and led him forth before his door, in the kindliest manner imaginable.

On seeing the gallows, the Provost asked Boyer whether he thought them strong enough to sustain the weight of a stout man. "Aye," replied the Mayor; "doubtless they be so."

"Well, then," said the Provost, "get up speedily, for they are prepared for you."

"I hope," exclaimed the astonished and disconcerted Mayor, "that you mean not what you speak."

"In very faith," said Sir Anthony Kingston, "there is no remedy, for you have been a busy rebel."

And so, without trial or defence, he was hanged before his own door by the man who had just dined at his table.

Sir John Hayward, who relates this incident, tells also the story of a miller who resided near Bodmin. This man had been a "busy rebel," and fearing the wrath of the Provost-Marshal, he told a "sturdy, tall fellow, his servant," that he had occasion to go from home, and that if any one should inquire for the miller, the fellow should affirm that he was the man, and that he had been so for three years. The Provost came to the mill and inquired for the miller, and the servant at once presented himself as such. The Provost inquired how long he had kept the mill. "These three years," answered the servant.

"String him up on the nearest tree!" ordered Sir Anthony.

The fellow then cried out that he was not the miller, but the miller's man. "Nay, sir," said the Provost, "I will take thee at thy word; and if thou beest the miller, thou art a busy knave; if thou beest not, thou art a false lying knave; whatsoever thou art, thou shalt be hanged." When others told him that the man was in reality only the miller's servant, the Provost replied, "Could he ever have done his master a better service than to hang in his stead?" and so he was despatched.

Hals says: "Mayow, of Cleoyan, in S. Columb Major, was hanged at a tavern signpost in that town, of whom tradition says his crime was not capital; and therefore his wife was advised by her friends to hasten to the town after the Marshal and his men, who had him in custody, and beg for his life, which accordingly she prepared to do. And to render herself the more amiable petitioner before the Marshal's eyes, this dame spent so much time in attiring herself, and putting on her French hood, then in fashion, that her husband was put to death before her arrival. In like manner the Marshal hanged John Payne, the mayor or portreeve of St. Ives, on a gallows erected in the middle of that town, whose arms are still to be seen in one of the fore seats in that church, viz. in a plain field, three pineapples."

Humphry Arundell, who had headed the rebels, was the son of Roger Arundell, of Helland, and he had been appointed Governor of S. Michael's Mount in 1539. He had married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Fulford. After his capture he was taken up to London, confined in the Tower, and hanged at Tyburn, 27th January, 1549-50. Sir Thomas Pomeroy, of Berry Pomeroy, managed to save his life, but suffered severely in his estate. He married Jane, daughter of Sir Piers Edgcumbe, of Cothele.

Strype tells us that "when this rebellion was well allayed, it was remembered how the bells in the churches served, by ringing, to summon and call in the disaffected unto their arms. Therefore, in September, an order was sent down from the Council to the Lord Russell, to execute a work that proved no doubt highly disgustful to the people, viz. to take away all the bells in Devonshire and Cornwall, leaving only one in each steeple, which was to call the people to church. And this partly to prevent the like insurrection for the future, and partly to help to defray the charges the King had been at among them."

Strype adds that "two gentlemen of those parts, Champion (Champernon) and (Sir John) Chichester, assistant perhaps against the rebels, took this opportunity to get themselves rewarded, by begging, not the bells, but the bell-clappers only, which was granted them, with the ironwork and furniture thereunto belonging. And no question they made good benefit thereof."

JOHN NICHOLS TOM,

alias SIR WILLIAM COURTENAY, K.M

This strange man was the son of William Tom, landlord of the "Joiners' Arms," S. Columb, and of his wife Charity Bray – "Cracked Charity" was the nickname she bore – who died in the County Lunatic Asylum, and it was from his mother that the subject of this memoir derived the bee that was in his bonnet.

John Nichols was born at S. Columb Major on November 10th, 1799, and he owed his name to a kinsman of his mother – his godfather, a well-to-do-farmer, who was unmarried.

At an early age John Nichols Tom showed a mischievous disposition. He was turned out of the dame's school at which he had been placed for cutting off the whiskers of her favourite cat. At the next school where he was placed he exhibited the characteristic vanity that was a leading feature through life. He liked to be thought to know more than any of his fellow pupils. One day he propounded to them the question: —

"Who is Neptune? I bet none of you know."

"Neptune," replied one urchin, "is my father's Newfoundland dog."

"Then who is Venus?"

"She is mother's spaniel bitch," answered one of the boys.

John Nichols in a fury fell on both with his fists.

"No such thing. Neptune is a god, and Venus is a goddess."

A general fray was the result, out of which our hero came mauled.

When it became time for him to strike out a course in life, he was placed in an attorney's office, and he conducted himself there well.

A fire broke out on the premises of the elder Tom and consumed the house. This occasioned Mrs. Tom to sink into a condition of profound melancholy, and she rapidly became so wholly insane that she had to be confined in an asylum, where some years later she died, and then Mr. Tom married a schoolmistress who lived on the other side of the road. This did not please John Nichols, and he quitted the attorney's office and was placed in the firm of Plumer and Turner, wine merchants and maltsters at Truro, as cellarman. After five years' service the firm came to an end, and Tom then began to trade on his own account. He married Catherine, second daughter of a Mr. Philpot, of Truro, whose elder sister Julia was engaged to a Mr. Hugo. Tom moved into his father-in-law's house, which was old and dilapidated, and rebuilt it as a commodious mansion, with spacious premises in its rear for the carrying on of the business of a maltster. But on a sudden a fire broke out in this newly-constructed malt-house, and speedily consumed all that had been built for his business. Folk naturally concluded that, as Tom had recently had some losses, he had set fire to his premises, that were insured for £3000, and they remembered that his father's house had also been insured and been burnt down. But Tom demanded that a most searching inquiry should be made as to the cause of the fire, and the insurance company, satisfying itself that it was accidental, paid the sum without demur. With the money thus received he rebuilt his premises, and continued the business. Those who saw much of him were convinced that, as they termed it, "there was a screw loose somewhere." He affected an unusual dress, and tried to induce his wife to assume a habit that would have caused her to be mobbed in the streets. He moreover became great as an orator, denouncing the Church, the aristocracy, and all organized governments. In a word, he was a Socialist of the day.

Two years later he made a considerable sum of money by a successful venture in malt at Liverpool. The result of the transaction may be gathered from the following letter which he wrote to his wife, and which was the last she ever received from him: —

"Liverpool, May 3, 1832.

"My dear Wife,

"I merely wish to inform you that I have just discharged the vessel of the malt, which has given every satisfaction to the purchasers. The measurement has exceeded my expectations by twenty-four Winchesters. There are the malt sacks in the vessel, and also half a bushel of the bottom scrapings; this you will get screened immediately. I am well and in good spirits (thank God for it). As I shall write to you again in a day or two, my letter will be short. The letter you will receive by post shall contain all I have to say, and as it will be subsequent to this I need not prolong. I have paid the captain of the vessel all the freight.

"With the kindest regards to all,

"I remain, yours affectionately,

"John Nichols Tom."

The letter was rational enough, but it was the last rational act he committed, as this also was the last time that he signed his name as above.

For some time his imagination had been influenced by stories that circulated relative to Lady Hester Stanhope, the "Queen of Lebanon," of her wealth, her authority over Arabs and Druses, of her prophecies and expectations of the near coming of the Messiah to institute the millennium; and he felt convinced that he was predestined to be the forerunner or herald to announce the coming advent of Christ. He had read a translation of Lamartine's Travels in the East, in which it was stated that, according to Eastern prophecy, the Messiah would ride into Jerusalem on a mare foaled ready saddled, and that Lady Hester had such a mare ready for the advent of the Prince of Peace. "Since destiny," said Lady Hester to Lamartine, "has sent you hither – permit me to confide to you what I have hitherto concealed from so many of the profane. Come, and you shall see with your own eyes a prodigy of Nature, the destination of which is known only to myself and my immediate votaries. The prophets of the East have announced it centuries ago, and yourself shall be judge if a part of those prophecies have not been accomplished." Lamartine goes on to say: "She opened a gate of the garden which led into a smaller inner court, where I perceived two magnificent Arab mares of the finest blood, and of the most symmetrical form. 'Approach,' said she to me, 'and examine that bay mare: see if Nature hath not accomplished in her everything which is written about the mare that is to carry the Messiah —she was foaled ready saddled!'

"I saw, in fact, in this beautiful animal a freak of nature. The mare had, in the place of the shoulders, a cavity so broad and deep, and imitating so well the form of a Turkish saddle, that it might be said with truth that she was foaled ready saddled, and but for the want of stirrups she might have been mounted without experiencing the want of an artificial saddle."

This account that John Tom had read of Lady Hester made the most profound impression on his mind, and inflated as he was with self-conceit and ambition, he conceived that he was called to take a place beside, if not before, Lady Hester, as a herald of Christ. Accordingly, having his pocket full of money from the sale of his malt, he started for Havre, and thence for Constantinople and Syria.

For what follows, till his reappearance in England in December of the same year, 1832, our sole authority is "Canterburiensis," who wrote Tom's life, but who does not tell us what were his authorities, and who certainly so embroidered some of the facts he relates, that in instances we feel uncertain whether they are facts or fables.

According to this authority he arrived at Beirout, at what date we are not informed, and he at once presented himself before the English consul, under the assumed name of Sir William Courtenay, Knight, and requested an escort to the Lebanon, where he desired to see Hester Stanhope, and acquaint her with the fact that he was the forerunner of the expected Messiah. The consul saw that the man was not wholly sane, and he was in a dilemma what to do with him; finally he concluded that it would not be unwise to send one mad head to the other, and see what would be the result. Accordingly he gave Sir William, as we must now call him, an escort and he departed for her Lebanon residence, at Dgioun.

"On arriving at the principal entrance, Sir William sent forward his dragoman to announce to the slave, who was standing at the door, that a person of consequence, on a mission of high import, requested an interview with Lady Hester Stanhope. Sir William and the dragoman were accordingly conducted into a narrow cell, deprived almost of all light, and almost destitute of furniture; here they were ordered to wait, until the pleasure of her ladyship should be known. After waiting full three hours in the most suffocating heat, the slave returned with a rather peremptory message, demanding, on the part of her ladyship, to know who and what the stranger was who had solicited an interview with her. Sir William wrote with his pencil, that he had travelled from the County of Cornwall to announce to the expectant faithful in the East the approaching advent of the Messiah, and that as her ladyship had established herself in the Holy Land for the direct purpose of awaiting that glorious event, which was so near at hand, he considered that he was acting in conformity with the high destiny that was awarded to him to communicate to her ladyship in person the arrival of the Millennium, that she might co-operate with him in spreading the glad tidings throughout the Holy Land, and acknowledge him as the harbinger of the great event.

"Fully satisfied that Lady Hester Stanhope would in a short time rush into his arms and hail him as the accredited messenger of Heaven, Sir William felt not the torrid heat, but stood in dignified complacency with himself, proudly awaiting the result of his message. In a very short time the slave returned, followed by several others, and it would be a difficult task to describe the astonishment and indignation of Sir William when he was informed that it was the decided opinion of her ladyship that he was an impostor, for that not one of the prophecies had been as yet fulfilled, which were to precede the coming of the Messiah, nor in any one of those prophecies was the slightest mention made of a messenger being appointed to announce His coming, and that accordingly the sooner he returned to his native country, the better it would be for him."

In a word, Sir William was detected, without having been seen, as an impostor, and was ejected from the house as such.

We should greatly like to know how much of this is true. Not only are no dates given, but the name of the consul at Beirout is also withheld.

Nothing remained for Sir William Courtenay to do but to retire discomfited to England, and try there whether he would have better luck. He embarked in a ship of Beirout for Malta, and after a residence of about three weeks in that island, sailed for England and arrived safely in London. The first intimation that he was back, received in Cornwall, was that he had assumed the name and title of Sir William Percy Honeywood Courtenay, Knight of Malta, King of Jerusalem, and Prince of Abyssinia, and that he had presented himself before the electors of Canterbury to contest that borough, in December, 1832.

He had taken up his residence at the Rose Hotel, Canterbury, where his dignified manners, his rich dress, his professions that he was the rightful owner of the estates of the Earl of Devon, and that he intended to establish his claims to them, his assertion that he was not only Knight of Malta but also de jure King of Jerusalem, imposed on so many of the burgesses of Canterbury that he polled 375 votes; but was unsuccessful, as the opponent candidates, the Honourable R. Watson and Lord Fordwick gained respectively 832 and 802.

After his defeat Tom made a circuit through the towns and villages of Kent, declaiming against the poor laws, the revenue laws, and such other portions of the statutes of the realm as might be considered by the poor to be adverse to their interests. By his speeches he obtained great success, and a sort of periodical that he issued, entitled The Lion, was greedily bought and distributed. But it ran through eight numbers only. The full title was "The Lion. The British Lion will be free. Heaven is his throne and earth is his footstool. He spake and it was done, he commanded and it stood fast. Liberty, truth bears off the victory, independence."

He then started for Devonshire, accompanied by a gentleman who so firmly believed in his pretensions that he defrayed his expenses to the amount of a thousand pounds. This man, Mr. George Denne, and a young surgeon named Robinson were completely duped by him. "My dearest George," said the Knight of Malta to the former, "it may please Heaven to take me in a short time from this sphere of my sublunary greatness, to translate me to the beatitude of another world."

"I hope not, Sir William," said George Denne.

"But," continued Sir William, "I shall carry with me the pleasing satisfaction of having provided in a truly princely manner for those who, whilst I was on earth, had the sense and sagacity to see into the nobility of my character, and to acknowledge me as Lord Viscount William Courtenay, of Powderham Castle, Knight of Malta, King of Jerusalem, Prince of Arabia, King of the Gypsies, and all the other honours and titles which by descent or creation belong to me. To you, therefore, George Denne, I bequeath the Hales' estate, with the proviso that you erect a monument on the highest ground on that estate to the memory of me, the great Lord of Devon, the regenerator of the world, and one of the greatest benefactors whom the human race ever saw."

In like manner he bequeathed to Mr. Robinson the whole of Powderham Castle and all its valuable paintings, together with one-half of the lands belonging to the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury Cathedral.

It will hardly be credited to what an extent he was run after at Canterbury. Professional men, such as physicians, surgeons, solicitors, also gentlemen of independent property and tradesmen of the first respectability, were his staunch supporters, and daily invited him to their table, and introduced him to the bosom of their families. The invitations which he received to dinners, teas, and suppers were so numerous that he was known to attend several parties in a few hours. Mothers with marriageable daughters hunted him in packs.

But – it was asked – why did not Sir William take possession of his extensive estates in Devon? It was to do this that he started, attended by his faithful squire, Mr. George Denne. On reaching Exmouth, Sir William despatched his squire to the authorities of the place to announce his arrival, and that as Lord of Devon and King of Jerusalem he would hold a levee at eight o'clock in the evening, at which he would be ready to receive them and lay before them his right and title to Powderham Castle and the estates belonging to it.

But when the hour of the levee arrived only one man appeared, and that was the steward of the Earl of Devon, who came very bluntly to inform him that should he venture to set foot within the private grounds of Powderham Castle he would be prosecuted for trespass.

Next day Sir William repaired to the newspaper office at Exmouth, and drew up an advertisement, purporting to be an announcement of the arrival of the rightful Earl of Devon for the purpose of taking possession of Powderham Castle, and a statement to the effect that he was now recalled to the metropolis to appear before the House of Lords to substantiate his claim. The editor laughed in his face, refused to insert what was handed over to him, and tore it to shreds.