ADMIRAL WILLIAM BLIGH, F.R.S.
The name of Admiral Bligh will always be associated with that painful episode in the history of the British Navy—the Mutiny of the Bounty—and the settlement of the mutineers on Pitcairn and other of the South Sea Islands; whence we still occasionally obtain news of their happy and flourishing descendants—happier far than their progenitors.[62] He is another example of a Cornish circumnavigator of the globe; the first being a Michell of Truro, who went round the world with Sir Francis Drake. Captain Samuel Wallis, R.N., of Lanteglos juxta Camelford, also sailed round the world in the Dolphin in 1766-68.
The Admiral was born, in all probability (though there has been some uncertainty on the subject) on the Duchy Manor of Tinten,[63] in the parish of St. Tudy, about half a mile south of the 'Church Town,' about the year 1753,—the son of Charles and Margaret Bligh; although I am aware that, according to another account, he is said to have been the son of John Bligh, of Tretawne, in the adjoining parish of St. Kew. The earliest connexion which I have been able to trace between this family and the parish of St. Tudy is, that they acquired some property here of the Westlakes, in 1680-81; but there was a John Bligh, or Blygh, at Bodmin, who acted as an assistant to the Commissioners for the Suppression of Monasteries, temp. Henry VIII. To this ancient town a branch of the Bligh family contributed four mayors between the years 1505 and 1588—indeed, the Cornish Blighs may be traced back as early as the reign of Henry IV. I am not sure whether or not Admiral Sir Richard Rodney Bligh, G.C.B, (who died in 1821), was a member of this family; but he was a Cornishman, as were some other naval officers of the same name.
Young Bligh—often called 'Bread-fruit Bligh,' from his having accompanied Captain Cook,[64] as sailing-master in the Resolution, on his second voyage round the world, in 1772-74, (in the course of which the fruit associated with his name was first discovered at Otaheite)—became a lieutenant in the Royal Navy; and, having obtained a high reputation as a skilful navigator, was appointed by George III. to command the Bounty, of 250 tons, on a voyage to Otaheite, in December 1787. After one or two ineffectual attempts to round Cape Horn, she arrived at her destination ten months after leaving England, and remained there for five or six months, the crew revelling in the natural beauty of the place, and enjoying an intercourse (which appears unfortunately to have been totally unrestricted) with the soft savages, its interesting inhabitants. On the homeward voyage, however, laden with plants and specimens of the bread-fruit, which it had been the object of the voyage to secure, with a view to its acclimatization in the British West India Islands, Bligh—who had made himself, by his irascible and overbearing disposition, obnoxious to many of those who sailed with him—was secured and bound by the majority of his crew; and, together with eighteen luckless sailors, was cast adrift on the 28th April, 1789, in an open boat only twenty-three feet long, and deeply laden within 'eight inches of the water's edge,' in which small, frail craft they sailed 3,618 miles. They had on board 32 lbs. of pork, 150 lbs. of bread, some wine, some spirits, and some water—but NO CHART:—
Not until nearly twelve months afterwards, did they reach England; after having touched at one or two islands, where they got a few shell-fish and some fruit, and at the Dutch settlement of Timor, to the east of Java, which they reached on 14th June, 1789, and where they obtained a schooner. Bligh arrived home on the 14th March, 1790, with twelve of his companions; the remainder having died on their weary, miserable passage.[65] To Bligh's skill, resource, and courage, were due the lives of all who were saved.
So astounding a voyage was, of course, the theme of conversation throughout the country; Bligh was immediately promoted to the rank of Commander, and soon afterwards to that of Post-Captain; shortly after which he got appointed, in 1791, to the command of another ship, the Providence, which was sent on a similar expedition to the Society Islands. On this occasion fortune was more favourable to the brave; he did not linger so long amongst the luxurious islets of the Pacific; and having entirely succeeded in the object which he had in view, on his safe return to England received the gold medal of the Society of Arts in 1794. The practical result of this voyage was, however, a failure; the quick-growing plantain being preferred by the West Indians to the somewhat insipid bread-fruit. As regards the mutineers, the Pandora was sent out to punish the ringleaders, some of whom her captain brought back to Portsmouth (notwithstanding having lost his ship on the return voyage near the north point of Australia); and at Portsmouth three of them were executed. Many of the mutineers, however, hid in the islands, whose charms, in the beauty of its scenery, climate, and 'gushing fruits,' and in the hospitable offers of its chiefs, and still more in the winning ways of the fairer sex, 'Nature and Nature's goddess—woman,' had proved too attractive to insure their allegiance to their duty. Byron's poem of 'The Island' is based partly upon the sailors' adventures, and partly on 'Mariner's Account of the Tonga Islands.'
Bligh also displayed great courage at the mutiny at the Nore, in 1797; on which occasion he was deputed to negotiate with the rebellious seamen, and is said to have performed that dangerous duty with singular intrepidity and address.
He was present at the memorable battle off the Dogger Bank, 5th August, 1781; fought under Lord Howe at Gibraltar in 1782; commanded off Ushant in 1794, the Warrior, of 74 guns; at Camperdown, 1797, when he was captain of the 64-gun ship Director; and also at Copenhagen, on 21st May, 1801, when he commanded the Glatton, of 54 guns (a ship's name still perpetuated in the British navy)—
At the close of this fight Nelson sent for our Cornish hero, and personally thanked him for the gallant part which he had taken in that glorious engagement. In the same year, in consideration of his distinguished services in navigation, botany, etc., he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society.
In 1805 he was appointed Captain-General and Governor of New South Wales, and took up office in the following year; but his very arbitrary disposition and harsh notions of discipline, imbibed on the quarter-deck, and which, indeed, distinguished his character throughout life, were strongly resented by many of his subordinate officials, both civil and military; and, notwithstanding that his efforts (which were approved by Lord Castlereagh) seem to have been mainly directed towards preventing the unlimited importation of ardent spirits into the colony, on the 26th January, 1808, Bligh was deposed from his authority by Major George Johnston, of the 102nd Regiment, and those who served under him, and was imprisoned by them until March, 1810.[66] In that year he returned to England in H.M.S. Porpoise, as to the command of which he had a painful squabble with her captain—Kent. He obtained on 31st July, 1811, his flag as Rear-Admiral of the Blue; proceeding by the usual steps of promotion until he became Vice-Admiral of the Blue, in June, 1814. This dignity, however, he did not long enjoy at his quiet rural retreat at Farningham, in Kent, as he died in Bond Street, London, on the 7th December, 1817, and was buried (by the side of his wife—a Miss Elizabeth Betham, of the Isle of Man) at Lambeth, in the east part of the ground enclosing the church, and abutting on the Tradescant tomb. Mrs. Bligh was a woman of superior attainments; and her father is described as being the son of the Principal of some (unnamed) university, and himself a literary man, the friend of Hume, Black, Adam Smith, and Robertson. Bligh left six daughters and three sons, William, Henry, and Richard (the latter a barrister-at-law and author of several legal works) who sold the Tinten property, and thus terminated the connexion of this family with the county of Cornwall.
Admiral Bligh's epitaph records that 'he was that celebrated navigator who first transplanted the bread-fruit tree from Otaheite to the West Indies; bravely fought the battles of his country; and died beloved, respected, and lamented.'
He seems to have been a lenient and benevolent despot in his dealings towards the poor, of which many instances are recorded by J. D. Lang, Jas. Bonwick, R. Therry, and other colonial writers; and—a good sign—he was very fond of little children.
Dr. Alfred Gatty, tells us how, when he went as a boy to Farningham, Admiral Bligh used to take him on his knee, and let him play with a bullet that hung on a blue ribbon round his neck—the same bullet which he used as a weight for doling out the daily portion of bread to his crew and to himself during their long boat-voyage of nearly 4,000 miles.
The Admiral's hasty temper, his room full of books, and his sea curiosities, of course attracted the boy's attention, and more especially a scar on his cheek, about which the old gentleman told him the following story. When George III. at a levée asked him in what action he had been wounded, Bligh was obliged to acknowledge, with some confusion, that it was not a battle-wound; but that his father, in throwing a hatchet to turn a horse which they were both trying to catch in an orchard, accidentally struck him on the cheek.
As regards his family, the following additional remarks may prove not unacceptable:
Lady O'Connell, one of Bligh's daughters, seems to have inherited some of her father's spirit, for she is said to have defended him on one occasion with a pistol 'against rebels,' in Van Diemen's Land. Frances and Jane were twins. Ann was a beauty, but mentally afflicted. On one occasion the young ladies were followed home from Farningham Church by a stranger, who was the subject of a little hoax played upon him by the Misses Bligh. He had advertised for a wife, and they replied to the advertisement by requesting him to appear, blowing his nose demonstratively, in the aisle of the church; by which process he was to be recognised. But so were also Frances and Jane Bligh; for they found it impossible to conceal their laughter at the would-be Benedict's performance, and their dupe accordingly followed them home after the service. Here, however, he was received by the Admiral himself with such emphatic broadsides that the wooer very quickly 'hauled off.'
Bligh's House at Farningham was, and is still known as the Manor House; and having heard that it still contained a picture of one of the Admiral's sea-fights, I asked my obliging correspondent, Mr. H. G. Hewlett (then living at Mount Pleasant, Farningham), to ascertain the facts for me, with the following result:
'I sent over to the Manor House yesterday to obtain a report upon the picture; but, unfortunately, it is hung in the chamber of a maiden lady, who demurred to admitting visitors. They could only learn that it is a naval battle-piece, in which several men-of-war take part; that the scene is off the coast, and that several figures are wading to shore. Its size is about 3 ft. by 2 ft.; the carving round the picture, which is let into the wall, is said to be fine. The room is called Admiral Bligh's, and is supposed to be haunted by his ghost, which stumps about on a wooden leg! Miss K——, however, is not superstitious, it appears, and has not heard or seen the ghost!'
[62] When some Pitcairn Islanders came on board the Clio, during a violent storm, in an open boat, in 1874, they declined all offers of food, medicine, or anything of that sort; but they added, 'There is one thing we should like—have you a copy of "Lothair"?'
[63] Tynten or Tinten was the seat of an ancient Cornish family of that name, dating from at least the time of Edward I. It afterwards passed by marriage to the Carminows and the Courtenays.
[64] At the United Service Institution Museum, in Whitehall, are relics of Captain Cook, including his chronometer, taken out again by Captain Bligh, in 1787, and carried by the mutineers of the Bounty to Pitcairn Island.
[65] An account of this voyage was published in London, in 1792, and contains Bligh's portrait. The details are also well given in David Herbert's 'Great Historical Mutinies.' It appears from the minutes of the court-martial that the rising of the crew against Bligh was not the result of any long-hatched conspiracy, but that it was both planned and executed between four and eight in the morning of the 28th April.
[66] See Wentworth's 'New South Wales,' p. 200; and Bonwick's 'Curious Facts of Old Colonial Days.'
THOMASINE BONAVENTURA.
(DAME THOMASINE PERCIVAL, LADY MAYORESS OF LONDON.)
In the Churchwardens' Accounts for the parish of St. Mary Woolnoth, in the City of London, are the following entries, the first of which (and one of the earliest in the book) makes mention of a Sir John Percyvall, who had a chantry in that church. He was Sheriff in 1486, and Lord Mayor in 1498; received the honour of knighthood from Henry VII., and died circa 1504.
The second, dated 1539, runs as follows: 'It'm receyved of the Maister and Wardens of the Merchynt Taillors for the beme light of this Churche according to the devise of Dame Thomasyn Percyvall, widow, late wyf of Sir John Percyvall, knight, decessed, xxvjs viiid.'
A third runs: 'It'm receyved more of the Maister and Wardens of the Merchant-taillours for ij tapers, th'oon of xv lb. and the other of v lb. to burne about the sepulchure in this Chirch at Ester Sunday, and for the Churchwardens labor of this Churche to gyve attendance at the obit of Sr John Percyvall and of his wyfe according to the devyse of the said Dame Thomasyn Percyvall his wyf iiijl, vis iiijd.'
And the last: 'It'm receyved of the said Maister and Wardenns of Merchant-taillours for the reparacions of the ornaments of this Chirche according to the will of the said Sr John Percyvall vjs.'
Herbert, in his 'History of the Livery Companies of London,' gives the following particulars of the estates out of the proceeds of which the above funds were paid, viz.: 'So far as Sr John was concerned, the annual sum of 16s. 4d. and £13 6s. 8d., issuing from certain messuages of the Company; and (as regards Dame Thomazine) the sums of 53s. 4d., 21s. 4d., and 13s. 10d., and 20s. yearly, all of the premises being situate in the parishes of St. Mary Wolnoth, St. Michael Cornhill, St. Martin Vintry, and St. Dionysius (or Denis) Back-Church, in Fenchurch Street.' He also gives an account of the manner in which the said funds were disposed of: as, good round sums to priests 'for singing for Sir John;' to priests and clerks for ringing of bells at the obits; for wax to burn on those occasions; sundry sums for the poor, etc.; for the 'conduct for keeping the anthem;' and, amongst other disbursements, ten shillings 'for a potation to the neighbours at the said obit.'
The charities left by this benevolent couple are also set out at p. 502 of the same work.
And lastly, the Stratton Churchwardens' Accounts for 1513, show that on the day on which 'my lady parcyvale's meneday' came round (i.e. the day on which her death was to be had in mind), prayer was to be made for the repose of her soul, and two shillings and twopence paid to two priests, and for bread and ale.
This, I believe, is nearly all that exists in the shape of documentary evidence to bear record of the existence of the Cornish girl who forms the subject of this notice. There are, however, still to be seen in the remote and quiet little village of Week St. Mary, some five or six miles south of Bude, in the northern corner of Cornwall, the substantial remains of the good Thomasine's College and Chantry, which she founded for the instruction of the youth of her native place.
The buildings lie about a hundred yards east of the church (from the summit of whose grotesquely ornamented tower six-and-twenty parish churches may be discerned); and, built into the modern wall of a cottage which stands inside the battlemented enclosure, is a large, carved granite stone (evidently one of two which once formed the tympanum of a doorway) on which the letter T stands out in bold relief. Probably it is the initial of the Christian name of our Thomasine; at any rate it is pleasant to think it may be such.
The traditions, however, concerning her are not only still numerous in the neighbourhood, but are as implicitly believed as if they were recorded by the most unimpeachable of chroniclers. They have been embodied, not without considerable imaginative embellishment, by the late Rev. R. S. Hawker of Morwenstow, in a pleasant chapter in his charming 'Footprints of Men of Former Times in Cornwall,' and they are somewhat as follows:
Thomasine Bonaventura was a poor shepherd maiden, and tended her sheep—'the long-forgotten Cornish knott'[67]—on the wild moorlands of North Cornwall, in days when more attention was paid than in later times to the produce of the flocks, and less was devoted, at least in this part of the county, to the mineral resources which lie hid in its bosom. Even the wealthy merchants of London came down so far into the west country to buy wool; and it was probably about the middle of the fifteenth century when one 'Richard Bunsby,' a citizen of the metropolis, made his appearance on the scene, which opens on the banks of one of the many little moorland streams that run down from Greena Moor in Week St. Mary, sweeping round Marham Church Hill, and so into Bude Haven. Struck with the shepherdess's bright looks and intelligent remarks, he proposed that she should return to London with him, and become a domestic servant in his house; and Thomasine's parents having given their consent to so brilliant a proposal, as it seemed to them, to London she went, and received on her arrival a hearty welcome from her new mistress. In course of time she became a great favourite with all in the house, the manager of its concerns, and, on the death of Dame Bunsby, the old merchant married his Cornish housekeeper, in compliance with the express wish of his late wife. Three years afterwards, Richard Bunsby, too, died, leaving all his property to Thomasine; and thus she became a wealthy widow. Yet did she not forget her husband's memory, to which she caused to be erected (so it is said) a substantial bridge; a structure (or perhaps I should say its modern representative), which may still be seen, as it was by myself in the autumn of 1880, at Week Ford.
One so 'sweet and serviceable,' and withal so rich, was not long, we may be sure, without suitors; and so, after a while, we find Thomasine again married; this time to 'that worshipful merchant adventurer, Master John Gall, of St. Lawrence, Milk Street.' He, too, was wealthy and uxorious; and enabled his wife to confer many benefits on the poor of her native place, for which she seems to have always entertained a lingering fondness—a trait as characteristic of the Cornish as of the Swiss themselves. After the lapse, however, of five years, Thomasine found herself once more alone in the world; and again her husband had left her all his property.
She had not to wait long before many fresh lovers were at the feet of the 'Golden Widow;' and on this occasion, in the year 1497, she bestowed her hand upon Sir John Percyvall, who was, the year after their marriage, elected to the honourable post of Lord Mayor of London. In memory of this event, she is reported to have constructed a good new road down to the coast, which I am bound to say I have not succeeded in identifying,—though it may be that which runs from Week St. Mary, over Week Ford and through Poundstock, to either Wansum or Melhuc Mouth.
She long survived even her third husband; and retiring, as it is believed, to Week St. Mary, by her will, made in 1510, left goodly sums of money to the home of her childhood. She directed that the 'chauntry with cloisters' (to which reference has already been made) should be built there; and that a school should be founded for the children of the poor.[68]
If Mr. Hawker's testimony is to be accepted, she also left, by a codicil to her will, and in memory of an early love affair, to the priest of the church, where she knew her cousin John Dineham would serve and sing, 'the silver chalice gilt, which good Master Maskelyne had devised for her behoof, with a little blue flower which they do call a "forget-me-not," wrought in Turkess at the bottom of the bowl.' But Mr. Hawker's mind was always full of graceful fancies; and he has in this case undoubtedly drawn upon his imagination for his facts.
Carew is a more reliable if less poetic authority. He says: 'And to show that virtue as well bare a part in the desert, as fortune in the means of her preferment, she employed the whole residue of her life and last widowhood to works no less bountiful than charitable; namely, repairing of highways, building of bridges, endowing of maidens, relieving of prisoners, feeding and apparelling the poor, etc. Among the rest, at this St. Mary Wike she founded a chantry and free-school, together with fair lodgings for the schoolmasters, scholars, and officers, and added £20 of yearly revenue for supporting the incident charges: wherein, as the bent of her desire was holy, so God blessed the same with all wished success; for divers of the best gentlemen's sons of Devon and Cornwall were there virtuously trained up, in both kinds of divine and human learning, under one Cholwel, an honest and religious teacher, which caused the neighbours so much the rather, and the more to rue, that a petty smack only of popery opened the gap to the oppression of the whole, by the statute made in Edward VI.'s reign, touching the suppression of chanteries.'
[67] According to Dr. Borlase, 'the sheep in Cornwall in ancient times were remarkably small, and their fleeces so coarse that their wool bare no better title than that of Cornish hair, and under that name the cloth made of that wool was allowed to be exported without being subject to the customary duty paid for woollen cloth. When cultivation began to take place, and the cattle to improve in size and goodness, the Cornish had the same privilege confirmed to them by grant from Edward the Black Prince (first Duke of Cornwall after the Norman Conquest), in consideration of their paying four shillings for every hundredweight of white tin coined. The same privilege of exporting cloth of Cornish manufacture, duty-free, was confirmed to them by the twenty-first of Elizabeth.'
[68] Dame Thomasine Percival's chantry and college at Week St. Mary were, according to the Church Commissioners, in 1545, a great comfort to all the county, from children being sent there to board and to be taught; but two years after the schoolhouse was in ruins, owing (so it was stated) to its being in a desolate place; and removal to Launceston was suggested.
HENRY BONE, R.A.,
THE ENAMELIST.
Amongst the worthies of Truro who have left 'footprints on the sands of time,' there are few more deserving of remembrance than Henry Bone, the only Royal Academician that his native place ever produced. He was born on February the 6th, 1755, and was the son of a cabinet-maker and carver, who is said to have been a clever workman, and to have carved the old pulpit of St. Mary's Church, Truro. One of the same name, and perhaps of the same family, a Walter Bone, was Mayor of Truro in 1708. In 1767 the family removed to Plymouth, and in 1771 Bone, showing artistic tastes, was apprenticed to the ingenious William Cookworthy, a druggist there, who discovered the secret of making hard-paste porcelain, in England, out of Cornish granite and clay, and who thereupon established the Plymouth China Works. In 1772 Bone's master removed to Bristol, where, in conjunction with the Champions, to whom he had become related by marriage, Cookworthy established the equally celebrated Bristol Porcelain Works. Bone accompanied him; and here he remained until 1778, working from six in the morning to six in the evening in the factory, and after that improving himself in the art of drawing. It is considered that the best painting executed at the Bristol Works was by Bone, and he is believed to have used the figure 1 in addition to the factory-mark +. Bristol pieces so marked are now very rare.
On the failure in business of his new master, Champion, in 1778, Bone, in the following year, came to London, with one guinea of his own in his pocket, and £5 lent to him by his friend, Morris, a cooper. At first he found employment in enameling watches, etc.; but this work failing him, owing to a change of the fashion, he commenced miniature-painting in water-colours on ivory, and also in enamel. Here it may be noted that he was employed first on enamel-painting, etc., by Randle and Co., Paternoster Row; and also on painting fans for Crowder and Co., Foster Lane. His distinguishing excellence is said to have been that he used enamel paints just as other colours, instead of, according to the feeble practice of the day, first mixing on the palette every colour to be used. His predecessor in this art was Horace Hone; but the latter's work was, in many respects, very inferior to that of the Cornish artist.
Dr. Wolcot (Peter Pindar) early recognised his merit, as he also did that of Opie, and recommended Bone to make annual painting tours into Cornwall; but increasing work in town compelled him at length to give up these congenial trips. On the 24th January, 1780, he married Elizabeth Vandermeulen, a descendant of Philip Vandermeulen, battle-painter to William III.; and Bone's first picture, exhibited at the Royal Academy in the same year, was an enamel painting of his newly-married wife. This enamel was of the then unusual size of two and a half inches in height, and Bone's complete success on this occasion led him now to determine on setting up on his own account instead of working for others. In 1782 his own portrait followed. These works brought him into prominent notice, and numerous patrons came to his studio. Giving his entire attention now to enamel-painting,—which has been well called 'painting for eternity,'—he completed, in 1789, 'A Muse and Cupid,' from his own design, of a greater size than had ever before been executed by this process.[69]
In 1794 we find him exhibiting 'The Sleeping Girl,' after Sir Joshua Reynolds; and in 1797 a portrait of Lord Eglinton, which attracted the attention of the Prince of Wales, who appointed him, in 1800, his enamel-painter, and became a generous patron to him afterwards. In the following year he was elected Associate of the Royal Academy, and enamel-painter to George III.; and he occupied the same post under George IV. and William IV. He subsequently executed several fine enamels, mostly after Sir Joshua Reynolds, and also a fine piece after Leonardo da Vinci. On 15th April, 1811, he was elected Royal Academician, and shortly after produced the largest enamel which had ever been painted up to that time, viz., a copy of the 'Bacchus and Ariadne' in the National Gallery, after Titian, eighteen by sixteen inches. This picture was considered so marvellous a production that more than 4,000 persons went to inspect it at Bone's house; and it was at length sold to Mr. G. Bowles, of Cavendish Square and Wanstead, for 2,200 guineas. The story goes, on the authority of Mr. George Bone, of Blackheath, that this sum was paid in the form of a cheque drawn on Fauntleroy's Bank. Bone cashed it on his way home, in order to have the pleasure of showing to his wife so huge a sum in coin. The following day the notorious forgeries and frauds were discovered, and the firm was bankrupt. But according to a writer in the 'Annual Biography' for 1836, who seems to have been well acquainted with Bone, the amount was paid partly in cash and partly by a draft.
Bone next undertook, in addition to enamel portraits and copies from the ancient masters, a series of historical portraits, mostly of the time of Elizabeth. They were of great merit, but unsuccessful financially. These were exhibited at his house, 15 Berners Street, near that of his friend Opie, No. 8, who painted Bone's portrait.[70] There were also portraits of the Cavaliers distinguished in the Civil War, painted for J. P. Old; as well as portraits of the Russell family, from the reign of Henry VII., for the Duke of Bedford. A catalogue of the last-named was privately printed in 1825, and there is a copy of it in the South Kensington Museum.
In 1831 failing eyesight compelled him to retire to Somers Town, and reluctantly to receive the Academy pension; but owing to the expensive professions adopted by his sons, there was no alternative. Here he died of paralysis on December 17th, 1834. Some time before his death Bone offered his works, which were valued at £10,000, to the nation for £4,000. This offer was declined, and some time afterwards, viz., 22nd April, 1836, they were sold by auction at Christie and Manson's, realizing about 2,000 guineas, and so were scattered far and wide. Other important sales of Bone's enamels took place on the following dates, viz.: 1st May, 1846; 25th April, 1850; 10th May, 1854; and 13th and 14th March, 1856.
Bone had a large family—twelve, it is believed; of whom ten survived. His eldest son, Henry Pierce Bone, born November 6th, 1779, first exhibited at the Academy in 1799. He commenced enamel-painting in 1833, was appointed enamel-painter to Queen Adelaide, and afterwards to her present Majesty and the Prince Consort; and in the course of fifty-six years he exhibited 210 miniatures and enamels. He died in London, October 21st, 1855. Bone's grandsons (W. Bone and C. K. Bone) are also enamelers.
Robert Trewick Bone, the third son, born September 24th, 1790, was a subject-painter of some ability. He died from the effects of a hurt, May 5th, 1840. One son, Thomas, a midshipman, was wrecked and drowned, in the Racehorse, sloop, off the Isle of Man. Another, Peter, a lieutenant in the 36th Regiment, was wounded at the battle of Toulouse, and died soon after his return to England; and another of Bone's sons was called to the bar.
Of Henry Bone's private character, it was truly said, by one who knew him well, that 'unaffected modesty, generosity, friendship, and undeviating integrity adorned his private life;' and as to his artistic merits, it is no exaggeration to say that he was 'unequalled in Europe for the perfect truth and enduring brilliancy of his productions.'
A voluminous list, prepared by the late Mr. J. Jope Rogers, of the works of art produced by the various members of the Bone family, will be found in the 'Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall,' No. XXII., for March, 1880. It shows a total of 1,063 recorded works by this gifted family, nearly half of which were painted by the principal subject of this brief memoir.
Chantrey executed a fine bust of Henry Bone, which has been well engraved by Thomson; and there is another portrait of him, as an elderly man, which was painted by Harlow, and engraved by F. C. Lewis in 1824.
[69] His 'H. B.' signature was similar to Doyle's ('H. B.') and most of his works are, fortunately for collectors, so signed.
[70] Bone's various residences in London were as follows, in chronological order: Spa Fields; 195, High Holborn; Little Russell Street; Hanover Street, Hanover Square; and in 1801, Berners Street; thence he moved to Clarendon Square, Somers Town.
REV. DR. WILLIAM BORLASE, F.R.S.,
THE ANTIQUARY.
'In the shade, but shining.'
Pope to Borlase.
The little parish of Ludgvan[71] (or as it is sometimes called, Ludgvan-Lees), on the north shore of the Mount's Bay, can boast of having contributed at least its share to the list of illustrious Cornishmen. Small, remote, and obscure as it is, Ludgvan is one of the places mentioned as the birthplace of Sir Humphry Davy; it was for more than half a century the residence of the subject of this article; and here, too, at Tremenheere, was born one of the most illustrious professors of the healing art that the county has ever produced—himself the friend and medical attendant of Borlase and of Pope—I refer to Dr. William Oliver, of Bath.
That the pursuits of a keen inquirer, endowed with no ordinary powers of observation and considerable artistic talent, should, in such an out-of-the-way corner of England as Ludgvan still is, have been directed towards natural history, and to the megalithic remains of antiquity with which the neighbourhood once abounded, and of which there are still numerous examples, is not to be wondered at. And it cannot be denied that the study of those sciences, both in Cornwall and elsewhere, was materially benefited by the numerous and careful drawings and descriptions of the stone monuments of a mysterious and almost unknown race of men, which it was one of the main objects of Dr. Borlase's learned leisure to investigate and record. Many of these ancient remains have altogether disappeared since his time, and many others have been mutilated or altered; but in the Doctor's volumes such minute descriptions of them have been preserved that the loss of the monuments themselves has been rendered of much less serious importance than would have been the case but for his careful and elaborate records. Of the deductions and suggestions which are appended to those descriptions something will be said hereafter.
But, in accordance with the method adopted in the case of the other Worthies of Cornwall, it is well first to say something of the stock from which Dr. Borlase sprang. A Norman origin is claimed for the family—they are said to have descended from one Taillefer: presumably some connexion of him who is reported to have struck the first blow at the Battle of Hastings. Coming into Cornwall, as, by the way, very few other followers of the Norman Conqueror did, the Borlases seem to have adopted a custom which has always more or less prevailed in the county of merging their own name into that of their place of residence; and here it may be observed that the name of Borlase, supposed by some to mean 'the high green summit,' is still attached to two or three little homesteads in the parish of St. Wenn, three or four miles north-east of St. Columb Major.[72] The direct male line became extinct in the time of Elizabeth, when the coheiresses married a Tonkin and a Bray; and the family does not appear to have risen to any distinction until they moved farther westward, and about the middle of the seventeenth century took up their abode (which is still in the possession of a member of the family) at Pendeen, in the parish of St. Just.
The early Pendeen Borlases seem to have been staunch Royalists, for it seems that one of them assisted his cousin, Colonel Nicholas Borlase, in raising a troop of horse for the King. Of this troop a writer in the Quarterly Review for 1875, quotes the following story:
'Being on one occasion much pressed by the Puritan forces, and making a running fight, he set fire to a large brake of furze in the night, which the enemy taking for the fires made on the approach of the King's army, immediately fled with great precipitation, and left him both bag and baggage, which he seized the next morning.'
By way of comment on these proceedings, Fairfax quartered some of his troopers at Pendeen,—doubtless to the intense annoyance of the owner thereof; and as regards Colonel Nicholas, a letter from Cromwell to Lenthall tells all that I have been able to gather as to that hero's career. It is dated Edinburgh, 13th June, 1651, and asks the Speaker to hasten the hearing of Borlase's case, which seems to have been involved in the conditions of the hurried treaty of Truro, when Hopton surrendered to Fairfax, and terminated the supremacy of the Royal cause in the West country.
The Borlases were not, however, without some sort of barren reward for their faithfulness to the Stuart cause; for Humphry, who was Sheriff of Cornwall during the last two years of the reign of James II., was created a peer by that monarch after his abdication. Under these circumstances he, of course, never enjoyed the title. He sometimes resided at Truthan, in the parish of St. Erme, near Truro, and left his estates to the Borlases of Pendeen.
Dr. Borlase was born at Pendeen, on 2nd February, 1695, the second son of his father, 'John of Pendeen, twice Member of Parliament for St. Ives in Cornwall in the reign of Queen Anne, and Lydia Harris, of Hayne, county Devon, his wife,' a lady descended, so the writer in the Quarterly Review informs us, through the Nevilles and Bouchiers, from Edward III. But the Borlases had also plenty of good Cornish blood in their veins; and amongst other old families of the soil with whom they intermarried may be named their not very distant neighbours, the Godolphins.
With a member of the last-named family John Borlase seems to have had an altercation one day in church, the particulars of which are set forth in his victim's petition to Parliament as follows, viz.:
'Honoured Sirs,
'Life, the precious tenet of mankind, forceth me to inform your honours that Sunday, the 26th February, 1709, in full view of most of the congregation of Maddern, John Borlase, one of Her Majesty's Justices of the Peace, did wilfully break the peace by striking me almost to the ground with his staff, and if not timely prevented by one Paul Tonkin, he would have been striking me again. He did at the same time highly threaten me, with Chritr. Harris, Esq., Jane his wife, and John his son. Mr. Harris ordered his servant to beat me. Of the truth of the above information I am ready to give my corroboration. Humbly craving the Honble. Speaker and House of Commons not to skreene such daring offenders, but to give me leave to prosecute them as the law directs, is the humble prayer of, Hond. Sirs,
'Your in all humility and duty,
'Ffrances Godolphin.'
What this poor gentleman had done to deserve the 'Justice's justice' thus summarily inflicted on him, observes the writer in the Quarterly Review, from whom I quote this letter, there and then, in the midst as it seems of divine service, and by the occupant of the next pew, we are left to conjecture.
Pendeen[73] is a house of unusual interest in this part of Cornwall, where, indeed, primæval remains abound, but where are few examples—save small and (with one or two exceptions) not particularly interesting churches—of mediæval and later architecture. It is now occupied as a farmhouse, but was formerly a place of much more importance. Substantially built of native granite, the structure was evidently designed for the occupation of some prosperous man; and its ground-plot indicates that it was so traced as to be capable of some sort of defence against marauders. In one of the bedrooms—most probably that in which William Borlase first saw the light—are some curious figures on the wall, of which a sketch is preserved by the writer.
But it is not so much to the house itself as to its surroundings that we must look for what were probably the determining circumstances of Borlase's career. He was in the very heart of the cromlehs, the cliff-castles, the weird stone-circles, and the huge monoliths of a forgotten race; and, close to the house, there was a long and mysterious double cave—a vau or ogou—which, we can but believe, must have excited an inquiring child's awe-struck interest. We are indebted chiefly to himself for the little that we know of his early days; and this information is derived from a modest autobiographical sketch which he drew up in 1772, when seventy-seven years old, for his friend Huddesford, the Curator of the Ashmolean Museum, at Oxford, an institution to which Borlase contributed nearly the whole of his collections of natural history and antiquities.
His first school seems to have been at the nearest town, Penzance; and of him his master said what so many a master has said of many another apt but dreamy and indolent scholar, who was nevertheless destined afterwards to distinguish himself, that 'he could learn, but would not.' Thence he went, in 1709, under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Bedford, at Plymouth, where he seems to have profited more by the instruction which he received. It has also been supposed that he was educated partly at Tiverton School. In March, 1712-13 he was entered, Cornish fashion, at Exeter College, Oxford, and here he took his B.A. and M.A. degrees in due course; was in 1719 ordained deacon; and in 1720, priest.
Dr. Borlase gives the following picture of the Oxford of his days:
'When I was at Oxford in the year 1715, we—I mean pupils, tutors, barbers, shoe-cleaners, and bed-makers—minded nothing but Politics; the Muse stood neglected; nay meat and drink, balls and ladies, had all reason to complain in their turns that we minded Scotland and Preston more than the humane, softer, and more delicate entertainments of Genius and Philosophy. This was a most unhappy time, and I have often lamented it.' And he concludes with the strong Conservative opinion: 'If I can see anything in our English history, 'tis that the poor nation is always the worse for alterations, tho' particular persons may be the better, that is, the richer or more powerful.'
His amusing description of a journey home from the University with Sir John St. Aubyn, in 1722, is given hereafter in the chapter on that family.
Two years after he was ordained priest, and (his father having bought for him the next presentation) he was presented to the living of Ludgvan, by Charles, first Duke of Bolton, through the influence, as Nichols inaccurately tells us, of Sir William Morice, of Werrington—a family with whom the St. Aubyns intermarried. This living he held for fifty-two years.[74]
When Borlase settled in his Rectory, the retired situation of the place did not altogether prevent his indulging in the mild social dissipations of the neighbourhood; notably there was a bowling-green club, formed in 1719, which proved an agreeable means of meeting with his friends, and afforded Mr. Gwavas—one of the latest writers in the old Cornish language, and a member of the party—an opportunity of composing a set of verses in Cornish in honour of the foundation of the club.
There can be little doubt, from what we know of his surroundings and proclivities, that Borlase was already making notes of the neighbouring antiquities, and dipping into his favourite authorities—the best of the day—for information, which he was afterwards to apply in a somewhat too speculative manner, to his pet subject—the Druids. He seems to have relied mainly for this purpose upon several passages in Julius Cæsar, Pliny, Elias Schedius de Diis Germanis, Smith's 'Syntagma de Druidis;' a collection of the French and German writers in Frickius de Druidis, Sheringham, Sammes, Montfaucon, Mons. Martin's 'Religion of the Ancient Gauls,' Toland's 'History of the Druids,' Rowland's 'Mona Illustrata,' Dr. Stukeley in his 'Stonehenge and Abury,' and Keysler in his 'Antiquities.'[75]
His method was to examine, and especially to survey and to draw carefully the old weather-beaten stone structures of Cornwall; being convinced, as he says, 'of the necessity of copying the original monuments,' and 'offering something to the public which their undeniable properties suggested.' We shall, however, I think, presently see that, in endeavouring to carry out this method, the worthy antiquary was rather prone to do that which so many other investigators have done—namely, to see that which he wished to see.
Fortunately for him, and for the records of the 'Cornish Antiquities,' when he married (as he did in 1724) Anne Smith, the daughter of the then Rector of Camborne and Illogan—'peramatæ, amanti, amabili,' as he wrote for her epitaph—he found a partner who (again to use his own words) took 'more than her part of the domestic cares,' in order that he might the better prosecute his antiquarian researches. The marriage ceremony was performed by his elder brother the Rev. Walter Borlase, LL.D., of Castle Horneck (the seat of the family on their removing from Pendeen, about a century and a half ago), afterwards Vice-Warden of the Stannaries from 1761 to 1776.
Although he lived to a very ripe old age, his health seems to have somewhat failed him for a time in 1730; and he accordingly repaired to Bath, as the waters were then in high repute for maladies such as his, in order to be under the care of his friend Dr. Oliver, who happily cured him, and gave him 'a new lease of life.' There can be little doubt that this excursion was also of great importance in another way; for it was here, and at this time, that he made the acquaintance of Pope,[76] of Ralph Allen, and of many other well-known characters in the literary and scientific world, who afterwards became his correspondents. His clever pencil was also employed during his sojourn at Bath in designing the obelisk in Orange Grove—so named after the Prince of Orange—another of those persons who credited the renowned Bath waters with the power of renewing their youth.
In 1732 Dr. Borlase's elder brother, Walter, died; and thereupon the subject of this memoir had the Vicarage of St. Just added to his previous preferment. This second living he held for the long period of forty years. The two places were not so far apart (only about twelve miles) as to preclude his giving attention to both cures; and indeed those biographers who have written of Borlase (notably Chalmers), state that his performance of his clerical duties was highly praiseworthy, being marked with 'the most rigid punctuality and exemplary dignity.' At St. Just, a populous mining parish, his congregation often consisted of 1,000 persons on a Sunday morning, and 500 in the afternoon. This, too, it must be remembered, was at a time when Churchmanship generally was at a very low ebb in Cornwall, and needed Wesley's trumpet-call to arouse it.[77]
Notwithstanding his increased responsibilities, Borlase did not neglect his antiquarian and scientific studies, nor his out-of-door pursuits of gardening and planting, for which the mild air of Ludgvan was highly favourable. In fact, at this period he seems to have 'entered upon the study of Druid learning' with renewed fervour. His chief companions were Sir John St. Aubyn of St. Michael's Mount hard by, and the Rev. Edward Collins of St. Erth, the latter of whom appears to have joined in nearly all his rambles, and not to have failed to administer occasionally 'the salutary censure of a friend;' for, as Borlase himself tells us, he found Mr. Collins a useful 'check in some disquisitions.'
Thus tranquilly passed away some fifteen years of this quiet and uneventful, but busy life,[78] until circumstances again brought him into contact with that outer world of larger and more learned minds which 'do mostly congregate in cities.' In 1748 he went to Exeter, to be present at the ordination of his eldest son. Here he was introduced to the Dean of Exeter, the Rev. Dr. Charles Lyttelton, afterwards Bishop of Carlisle, and the first President of the Society of Antiquaries. And it is not a little curious to note, by the way, that Dr. Lyttelton's successor as Dean of Exeter, Jeremiah Milles, of Duloe in Cornwall, also succeeded his predecessor in the Deanery in the distinguished post of President of the Antiquaries. It can readily be believed that new sources of intellectual enjoyment opened up with an acquaintance with such men as these. They forthwith became correspondents; and to their names were added, either about this time or at other periods of Borlase's life, those of Linnæus, Gronov of Leyden, Stukeley, Atterbury (Bishop of Rochester), Browne Willis, Pococke (Bishop of Ossory), Thomas Pennant, and Ellis, the author of the 'Corallines.' The library at Castle Horneck contains upwards of forty volumes in MS. of Borlase's Correspondence and Notes.
One of the fruits of Borlase's visit to Exeter was the production of his first essay (or 'Exercise' as it was termed) for the 'Philosophical Transactions.' This appeared in 1749. It was the first scientific account of any of the Cornish minerals; and was entitled 'Spar, and Sparry Productions, called Cornish Diamonds.' This was considered of sufficient merit to secure his election as Fellow of the Royal Society, an honour which was conferred upon him on his visit to London in the following year. Many other contributions followed, nineteen in all; chiefly on subjects connected with meteorology and natural phenomena, and one paper of an antiquarian character. They are catalogued in the 'Biographia Britannica,' vol. ii., p. 425.
But the time had now arrived when Borlase felt himself strong enough to invite the attention of the world to more considerable works from his pen and pencil. And first he turned his attention to grouping and arranging the results of his archæological researches, the publication of which, by subscription, he set about accomplishing. It was not, however, until 1753 that he saw his way clear to taking the MSS. of his 'Cornish Antiquities' with him to Oxford—preferring that city to London for two reasons, the first of which we can easily understand, viz., its greater retirement; but the second is one which sounds strange to modern ears, because of the 'more ready access to books.' So great was his diligence, and that of his engravers, that the work, in folio, with its numerous illustrations, was published at Oxford in February of the following year, 1754;[79] and the indefatigable author at once returned to Cornwall in order to arrange the materials for his next great work, the 'Natural History' of his native county. Meanwhile, in 1756, appeared his account of the Scilly Islands, an enlargement of one of his papers in the 'Philosophical Transactions,' and a work of which Dr. Johnson wrote in the Literary Review that 'This is one of the most pleasing and elegant pieces of local inquiry that our country has produced.'
On this occasion, too, he seems to have proceeded with his usual despatch; for in October, 1757, we find him once more at Oxford, for the purpose of printing the last-named work. And again, by the spring of the following year, 1758, this too was ready for the public eye.
Having now secured in print the results of so many years' labours, the happy idea occurred to him of presenting to his beloved University the collections of antiquities, natural history, etc., upon which his works were based, and he accordingly deposited them forthwith in the Ashmolean Museum, continuing to send thither from time to time any similar rarities which he discovered. It is scarcely necessary to add that for this generous gift he received the thanks of the University; which, in token of the high appreciation in which they held his talents and his liberality, on the 23rd March, 1766, conferred on him, by diploma, the degree of Doctor of Laws, the highest academical honour which it was in the power of the University to bestow.
But Borlase was now getting an old man, being over seventy years of age. The friends of his youth were dying off; and he was unable to undertake the long antiquarian rambles which had been the delight of his stalwart days. His outdoor amusements began to be restricted to the superintendence (which he seems to have thoroughly enjoyed) of the improvement of the numerous roads which ran through his parish; one of which, it may be mentioned, was the highroad to Penzance, until that which now skirts the shore of the Mount's Bay was substituted for it. His literary labours consisted partly in writing his 'Sacræ Exercitationes,' which were chiefly paraphrases of Ecclesiastes, the Canticles of Solomon, and the Lamentations of Jeremiah—rather for his own pleasure than with any view to publication; and his home recreations were the 'Belles Lettres' and drawing and painting. He did not, however, neglect entirely his old pursuits; for he prepared for the press the new and enlarged edition of his 'Antiquities,' which, as we have seen, was published in 1769; and he busily engaged himself in a similar office for his 'Natural History,' which he did not live to complete. The emendations, however (or rather the principal of them), appeared in the Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall for 1875. And during this latter part of his life, as well as during the previous years, he was occupied in collecting materials for a Parochial History of the County, which never saw the light.
His last literary labour was a treatise on the 'Creation and the Deluge,' which contains some ingenious speculations on the nature of earthquakes and submarine upheavals. The beginning of this little work he had actually sent to the press; but a sudden and violent illness in 1771 warned him that he was overtaxing his strength, and he resolved not to go on with the publication. Within two or three months of his death he drew up a short memoir of his life, written in the third person, for his friend Huddesford, which closes in the following happy strain:
'Being now in his seventy-seventh year, very little more can be hoped for by himself or expected by others.
'Having been long accustomed to the confinement of his study, retirement and old age incessantly call upon him with the less terrour; and resignation to his increasing infirmities becomes every day easier and less irksome, till at last he now accounts it among the blessings of long life that it has quieted and extinguished every spark of ambition, and that it enables him to withdraw more and more with some decency from the world; precluding the perhaps well-intended, though rather too frequent visits of civility, in which there is generally more dissipation at all stages of life than real compensation for the waste of time, especially in the days of age.
'In hopes, however, of being not entirely useless as yet, whilst it pleases God to grant him life, most of his present time (as not the least of his pleasures) he allots to the instruction of a dutiful and apprehensive youth, the present companion of his retirement.'
So lived, and so, on the 31st August, 1772, peacefully died, at Ludgvan, Cornwall's 'Nourice of Antiquity,' Dr. William Borlase. He was buried by the side of his wife, near the east end of his own church, on the north side of the altar; and his executor inscribed on his unpretending monument the words:
He had six sons, only two of whom survived him, the Rev. John Borlase and the Rev. George Borlase, Casuistical Professor and Registrar of the University of Cambridge. His son Christopher, a sailor, died of a fever on the coast of Guinea in 1749, and appears to have inherited some of his father's artistic skill.
As an illustration of Borlase's 'method,' and of his perfervid imagination when he got amongst his native granite rocks, I have thought it would be interesting to cull the following few notes from his 'Scilly Isles':
'On a Carn adjoining the Giant's Castle,' he observes, 'the floor, consisting only of one Rock, must convince us that this Circle was intended for a place of Worship, for it could not serve for a Sepulchre; but why the Quoits were hollowed out into Basons (as they are placed in a Religious Circle) must have been in some sort or other subservient to the purposes of the Druid Superstition.' As regards the 'Rock Basons,' he goes on to say, 'My opinion concerning the use of them you do not want to be informed of; I have always thought that they were designed to receive in their utmost purity the waters of the Heavens for holy uses; but in such doubtful cases let every man think for himself.' A little further on, however, the worthy Doctor's theory as to the extreme purity of the water is somewhat disturbed by his finding some of them inconveniently near the sea; but he is equal to the occasion. 'Though,' he says, 'the spray of the sea so near them on every hand might well be supposed to fill these Basons with salt water, yet I found the water in them to be quite fresh.' Some of these were actually under the sea-level!
In another place, writing of tolmens, the Doctor observes that, though their Cornish name, appropriately enough, signifies a holed stone, yet that was not 'the true Druid name ... for the Druids probably call'd it by the name of one of their Deities as soon as it was ritually consecrated, and most likely by that of Saturn.'
He is in doubt whether the furrows which he noticed on certain rocks were channels on the sites of the holy fires of the Druids, made in order to enable the priests the better to collect the sacred embers, or whether they were designed to collect the blood of sacrificed victims for the purposes of divination. But he admits ''tis all mere conjecture.'
And again—a 'canopy rock' with a row of rude stone pillars before it is a 'Druid Seat of Judgment';—in fact, on Borlase's theory, the whole of the Scilly Isles must have been thickly peopled with Druids.
But as the writer in the Quarterly truly observes, 'The Druids have of late years been somewhat rudely dismissed from the shade of their accustomed oaks, and the rock-basons have been proved to be simply the result of the weathering of the granite.'
[71] At Rospeith, in this parish, according to Davies Gilbert, P.R.S., the last native wolf in England was seen.
[72] The Manor of Borlase-Burgess, formerly the seat of the Borlase family in St. Wenn, 'is said to have been given by William Rufus to a certain Norman who was Lord of Talfer in that country, and whose posterity assumed the name of Borlase.'—(Borlase's MSS.)
[73] At Pendeen lived, in the time of Henry VII., one Richard Pendyne, 'one of the rebels who, under Lord Audley, Flammock, and Joseph,' dismantled Tehidy, the residence of John Basset, then Sheriff of the County, and did much other mischief in the West—an offence which he expiated by losing his estates.
[74] According to Kippis, it was the St. Just living which was subsequently procured through this interest.
[75] Second book of the 'Antiquities of Cornwall.'
[76] Borlase was a bounteous contributor of minerals for the adornment of Pope's grotto, in which the poet fixed his Cornish friend's name in capital letters, formed of crystals; gracefully saying that he had placed them where they would remind him of the donor—'in the shade, but shining.'
[77] The Doctor was one of the old-fashioned Churchmen who dreaded trop de zèle, and, probably without much reluctance, issued in his magisterial capacity a warrant to 'apprehend all such able-bodied men as had no lawful calling or sufficient maintenance;' in fact, he was afraid of riots amongst his excitable parishioners. The squabble is recorded in the great Revivalist's journals for the summers of 1784 and 1785. But the end of the affair was that Wesley, having on the first occasion appeared before the Bench at St. Michael's Mount, and on the second having called upon Dr. Borlase himself, at St. Just, in response to the warrant, on the latter occasion found that the Doctor had gone to church—and so the matter ended.
[78] It was his habit to rise at five, and go to bed at nine.
[79] A second edition was published in London in 1769.