Cornish Characters and Strange Events

"Oh, yes," replied the comedian. "If you were among a thousand horses, I would know you immediately."

There was a public-house in Bow Street called "The Brown Bear," which was famous for a compound liquor, a mixture of beer, eggs, sugar, and brandy. Incledon and Jack Johnstone were partial to this, and frequently indulged themselves with it during the evening at the theatre, and, as a jest, occasionally obtained it in the following manner. When there happened to be several ladies of the theatre in the green-room, they took that opportunity to represent to them the hard case of the widow of a provincial actor, left with her children in great distress, and to solicit from them a few shillings to enable them to purchase some flannel during that inclement season. Having obtained contributions, they despatched the dresser to "The Brown Bear" for a quart of egg-hot, and had the modesty not to drink it all themselves, but to present a glass to each of the females who had subscribed, requesting them to drink to the health of the widow and the flannel. When Incledon and Johnstone had practised this trick several times, Quick, the comedian of the same theatre, bribed the dresser to infuse into the mixture a dose of ipecacuanha, and that brought the joke to an end. But the mixture thenceforth, without the last ingredient, was popularly called Flannel.

Incledon was a notoriously vain man. Vanity was his besetting sin. "In pronouncing his own name," says Mr. Matthews, "he believed he described all that was admirable in human nature. It would happen, however, that this perpetual veneration of self laid him open to many effects which, to any man less securely locked and bolted in his own conceit, would have opened the door to his understanding. But he had no room there for other than what it naturally contained; and the bump of content was all-sufficient to fill the otherwise aching void. Incledon called himself the 'English Ballad Singer' per se; a distinction he would not have exchanged for the highest in the realm of talent. Among many self-deceptions arising out of his one great foible, he was impressed with the belief that he was a reading man."

One day Matthews found him in his house deep in study. Incledon looked up at his visitor, and said, "My dear Matthews, I'm improving my mind. I'm reading a book that should be in the hands of every father and husband."

"What is it, Charles?" asked Matthews, and leaning over him saw that it was a volume of the Newgate Calendar!

It had become a habit, during a fagging run of a new opera at Covent Garden Theatre one season, for certain performers to club a batch or so of Madeira, of which they took a glass to their dressing-rooms. Incledon was continually finding fault with the quality, and praising up his own private stock of the same wine. At the close of the season, his brother actors had become weary of Incledon's grumbling over the Madeira, which they knew to be excellent. One night a fellow-actor, seeing a large key lying upon Incledon's dressing-table, labelled "Cellar," and Incledon happening at the time to be engaged on the stage till the end of the opera, despatched the dresser to Brompton Crescent with the key, with a request to Mrs. Incledon from her husband that she would send one dozen of his best Madeira by the bearer. Mrs. Incledon, wholly unsuspicious of any trick, did so. When Incledon left the stage, the confederates told him that they had got fresh and very first-rate Madeira now, as he had disliked what had been provided before. Incledon took a glass, made a wry face, took another, and said, "Beastly stuff! Never in my life tasted such cheap, vile stuff."

"Sorry, Incledon, you do not appreciate your own Madeira."

Incledon drank pretty heavily, but did not get drunk. Here is a bill for a slight evening collation at the Orange Coffee House, for him and two friends:

Parke, in his Musical Memoirs, relates an instance of Incledon's selfishness. He says of him that he was a singular compound of contrarieties, amongst which frugality and extravagance were conspicuous. "Mr. Shield the composer, Incledon, and I, lived for many years a good deal together. On one occasion Shield and myself dined with Incledon at his house in Brompton in the month of February. When I had arrived there, Incledon said to me, 'Bill, do you like ducks?' Conceiving, from the snow lying on the ground, that he meant wild ones, I replied, 'Yes, I like a good wild duck very well.' 'D – wild ducks!' said he: 'I mean tame ducks, my boy'; adding, 'I bought a couple in town for which I gave eighteen shillings.' Soon afterwards a letter arrived, announcing that Mr. Raymond, the stage-manager of Drury Lane Theatre, who was to have been of the party, could not come; in consequence of which, I presume, only one duck was placed on the dinner table, with some roast beef, etc. When Mrs. Incledon (who, as well as her husband, was fond of good living) had carved the duck, like a good wife she helped her husband to the breast part and to one of the wings, taking at the same time the other wing to herself, reserving for Shield and me the two legs and the back. Shield, who looked a little awkward at this specimen of selfishness and ill-manners, at first refused the limb offered to him, and I had declined taking the other: there appeared to be but a poor prospect of the legs walking off, till Shield relented and took one, and Incledon the other, so that they were speedily out of sight. The back, however, remained behind, and afforded a titbit for the servants."

On another occasion he was giving a dinner party, and a dish was brought to table heaped up, apparently, with fresh herrings. All the company, except Incledon and his wife, partook of these fish; some were helped a second time. When the herrings had been cleared away, there appeared beneath one fine white fish. "My dear," said Incledon, "what can that be?" "I believe it is a John Dory, Charles."

Some of the John Dory was offered to the company, but they had eaten enough fish, and so Incledon and his wife ate the John Dory between them.

Incledon, whilst very willing to hoax others, was easily taken in himself. As his dependence was entirely on his voice, he was very apprehensive of catching cold, which, in consequence, rendered him the occasional dupe of quackery.

During Mr. Kemble's management of Covent Garden Theatre, one of the wags among his fellow-actors informed him that a patent lozenge had just been invented and sold only at a jeweller's in Bond Street, which was an infallible cure for hoarseness. In order that he might the more readily take the bait, he was told that Kemble made frequent use of it. Incledon immediately inquired of the great actor, who very gravely answered, "Oh, yes, Charles; the patent lozenge is an admirable thing. I have derived the greatest benefit from it, when I kept it in my mouth all night."

Incledon accordingly went to Bond Street to purchase the valuable lozenge, and the man, who had been previously instructed, gave him a small pebble in a pill-box. Incledon arrived at the theatre next day with the stone in his mouth and spitting frequently. He was, of course, asked if the patent lozenge did him any good. "Yes," replied he, spitting; "I kept it in my mouth (spitting) all night, and (spitting again) it has this remarkable property, that it does not dissolve," and he spat again. The wag requested to see it, and the production of the pebble provoked a general laugh.

"Why, Charles," said Kemble, "this is a stone! I meant a patent lozenge. You should have gone to an apothecary's and not to a jeweller's for it."

Incledon, when he found that he was hoaxed, was full of wrath; his anger, however, soon subsided.

"Well," said he, "I can't grumble, for an apothecary who pretended to have supplied the jeweller with the lozenge, and who has received from me a letter belauding the nostrum, has undertaken in return to dispose of forty pounds' worth of tickets for my benefit."

On the occasion of this, or some other benefit, he could not refrain from going every morning to the box-office to see how many places were taken; and a week before the last, observing the names to be few besides those of his own private friends, he said to the box-keeper, Brandon, "D – it, Jem, if the nobility don't come forward, I shall cut but a poor figure this time."

"Don't be afraid," said Brandon; "I dare say we shall do a good deal for you to-day."

"I hope so," replied Incledon, "and as I go home to dinner I will look in again."

Incledon, who was not very familiar with Debrett's Peerage, returning at five o'clock in the afternoon, hastened to the book, and read aloud the following fictitious names, which Brandon, by way of a joke, had put down in his absence: "The Marquis of Piccadilly," "The Duke of Windsor."

"Ah, ha!" exclaimed Incledon, "that must be one of the Royal Family."

"Lord Highgate" – "The Bishop of Gravesend." "Well," said he to Brandon, quite delighted, "if we get on as well to-morrow as we have to-day, I shall have a number of distinguished titles present."

Parke says of him: "Amongst other singularities, Incledon was restless, and could not stay long in a place. Having, with his wife, dined at my house, in the evening, whilst the party were engaged at cards, he absented himself for a considerable time; and, Mrs. Incledon noticing it particularly, I was induced to go and look for him. Tracing him by his voice, I found him in the kitchen, helping the maids to pick parsley, which was preparing for supper."

Parke adds: "As a ballad singer he was unrivalled, and his manner of singing sea songs, particularly Gay's 'Black-eyed Susan,' 'The Storm,' by Alexander Stevens, and Shield's 'Heaving of the Lead,' can only be appreciated by those who have heard him.

"Though he evinced a strong propensity to wine, he never appeared to be intoxicated by it. Dining with a party at his house, where he had just recovered from a very severe indisposition, and was, as he said, advised by his physician to be very abstemious, he sometimes after dinner, while his friends were drinking port wine, had a second black bottle placed before him, which I conceived to contain some very light beverage suited to his case, till he said to me in an under tone, 'Bill, take a glass of this,' pointing to his black bottle, which I did, and found it to be Madeira."

During the summer Incledon made provincial tours, giving entertainments moulded on those of Dibdin, and these were very successful financially.

After quitting Covent Garden he performed at concerts and in minor theatres. In 1817 he sailed for America, where he was received with great enthusiasm, and realized handsome profits.

His last appearance in London was under Ellison at Drury Lane in 1820, and his last appearance on any stage was at Southampton, where he had first appeared behind the footlights. This was on October 20th in the same year. He resided towards the end of his days at Brighton, where he was afflicted with a slight paralytic affliction, from the effects of which he recovered; and in February, 1826, being at Worcester, he experienced a second attack, which proved fatal, and he died on February 14th in the sixty-eighth year of his age. His remains were conveyed from Worcester to Highgate, where they were interred.

THE MURDER OF RICHARD CORYTON

Richard Coryton, eldest son of Peter Coryton of West Newton Ferrers, in the parish of S. Mellion, had married Ann, daughter of Richard Coode, of Morval, and by her had three sons, Peter, Richard, and John.

Peter, the grandfather, died on 24th March, 1551, but his son Richard died a violent death in a tragic manner in 1565. Peter, the younger and heir apparent, was intent on marrying Jane, the daughter of John Wrey, of Northrussell, but for some reason unexplained his father Richard took a violent dislike to the proposed daughter-in-law, and when his son persisted in desiring to have her as his wife, the father flew into a violent passion and swore that if he took her he would disinherit him of all the lands he could, and would give to him only a younger son's portion, constituting Richard head of the family.

Peter remained firm – he was then in London at the Court, and the father at once made ready to leave Newton Ferrers and take his journey to London and disinherit his son if he found that the marriage was still insisted on. But on the eve of his starting, as he was walking in the grounds of Newton Ferrers, he was suddenly fallen upon by two scoundrels named Bartlett and Baseley, who owed him a grudge over some matter that is not mentioned, and they cut his throat.

Bartlett and Baseley were apprehended and brought to Launceston before the sheriff, Mr. Trevanion, and were found guilty; but he could not believe that they were revenging some private wrong, and as the matter of dispute between father and son was well known, and it was known as well that Richard was about to disinherit his eldest son, a strong suspicion was entertained by Trevanion that the murder had been committed at the instigation of the son, and he gave the men hopes of a reprieve – if not of a pardon – if they would reveal the name of the man who had urged them to commit this dreadful crime. He behaved, it must be seen, in a most unfair manner, hinting his suspicions to the two wretches and giving them no peace till they declared that they had been set on by Mr. Peter Coryton to murder his father.

As Peter Coryton was in town, the two criminals were sent to Newgate to be confronted with him there. Whether he was arrested on the charge of having instigated the murder of his father does not appear, but it is probable.

However, if that were the case, his detention was not for long, as both murderers recanted when in London. The following curious deed of "Evidence concerning the murder of Mr. Coryton" is preserved in Pentillie Castle.

"To all true Xtian people to whom this present writing shall come, or shall see, hear or read, Sir Richard Champion, Knt., Lord Mayor, and the Aldermen of the City of London send greeting in our Lord God everlasting.

"Forasmuch as among other, the great and manifold deeds and works of piety and charity, the witnessing and declaration of the truth of all matters in question, ambiguity or doubt is not to be accounted the least, but rather as a choice virtue and means whereby the truth, tho' many times suppressed for a season, doth the rather appear brought forth into the sight and knowledge of men is with the choicest to be embraced, extolled, and commended.

"We therefore, the said Lord Mayor and Aldermen, do signify and declare unto all your honours and worships, unto whom it shall appertain, and to every of the same, that the days of the date of these presents hereunder written, there did appear and come personally before us, the said Mayor and Aldermen, in the Queen's Majesty's Court, holden before the said Lord Mayor and Aldermen, in the outer chamber of the Guildhall of the said City, the Deponents hereunder named, who, upon their own free will, without any manner of coercion and constraint, upon their corporate oaths upon the holy evangelists of Almighty God, then and there severally before us taken and made and exactly examined by one of the clerks of the said Court, said and deposed in all things as hereafter word for word ensueth.

"John Philpott, clerk, Parson of S. Michael in Cornhill of London, aged 29 years or thereabout, deposed, sworn and examined, the day hereunder written, saith and deposeth upon his oath that on the ninth of November last, upon a Saturday, about four of the clock in the afternoon, but what day of the week it was he doth not now remember – this examinate was required by Mr. Howes, one of the Sheriffs of London, and in the name of the other sheriff,[26 - John Rivers and James Howes were sheriffs.] that he would go unto Newgate, and there to examine one Rafe Bartlett, prisoner within the same place, who was then very sick and like to die, to the intent to understand of him whether one Peter Curryngton, whom before he had accused for the murder of his own father, were culpable therein or no. Whereupon this examinate went to the said gaol of Newgate, and by the way he did meet with two ministers, the one named Edward Wilkinson, and the other John Brown, whom he desired to go with him, who went with him accordingly, and coming to the aforesaid gaol of Newgate, he desired the keeper that they might talk with the said Bartlett, and the said keeper went down with them into the prison, and brought them unto him, and there finding him very sore sick, persuaded with him, for that he was more like to die than live, in discharge of his conscience, as he would answer before God, to declare unto them whether that the aforesaid Peter Curryngton, whom he had accused to be privy and procurer of him and one Baseley to do the same murder were true Yea or No.

"Whereupon he confessed and said that he had most untruly accused the said Peter Curryngton, for he was never privy, nor knew of it, but that it was he himself and the said Baseley, without the knowledge of any other, and declared the cause why they had so accused him was, for that after they were found guilty for the same matter, the Sheriff of Cornwall did examine them if there were any other privy or procuring to the same murder; and they agreed together to the intent to preserve their lives, or at the least to prolong the same, falsely to accuse the said Peter Curryngton; and the same Bartlett showed himself very sorry and repentant for his said accusation, saying, 'Think you that Mr. Curryngton will forgive me?'

"And this examinate answered him, 'There is no doubt he will, for otherwise he is not of God.' Wherewith he seemed to be satisfied. And this examinate saith that the said Bartlett died within two or three days after; and going from him up the stairs, he, the examinate and the others were brought unto the aforesaid Baseley, who confessed and declared unto them in everything the innocency of the said Peter Curryngton, concerning the same murder, and that it was he and the said Bartlett that committed the same without the knowledge or consent of any other; and that they did accuse him for the purpose afore alleged, by the said Bartlett, and more in effect this examinate cannot say.

"Edward Wilkinson of London, Clerk, Parson of the parish church of S. Antonine in London, aged 33 years or thereabout, deposed, sworn and examined, the said day and year hereunder written, saith and deposeth upon his oath, about November last, the exact time the examinate remembereth not, he did meet one Mr. Philpott, parson of S. Michael in Cornhill, in Cheapside, who desired this examinate that he would go back with him to Newgate, who did so, and by the way as they went, they met with Master Brown, a minister, who likewise went with them to Newgate, and the deposition of the foresaid Mr. Philpott, being unto him read, and he, well perusing and understanding the same, saith and deposeth that all the matter declared and spoken by the said Bartlett, as it is contained in the deposition of the said Master Philpott, is very true in all things, and was spoken in the presence and hearing of this examinate, and further, this examinate saith that the words likewise spoken and declared by the said Baseley, named in the said deposition of the said Master Philpott, are likewise very true, and were in the presence and hearing of this examinate. And further, this examinate saith that he did persuade and exhort the said Baseley, saying unto him, 'Take good heed that you do not lie. You have already murdered one, you have falsely accused another, and you seem to slander the Sheriff (of Cornwall).' And the said Baseley answered, 'The truth is, Master Sheriff bade me devise some way to save myself, and I said I could not tell how, – and he said the way (to do so) was to accuse some other. And he examined me whether there was any one privy or procuring the said murder, beside ourselves, saying unto me, "You could not do it alone. There be divers of the Curryngtons. Was there none of them privy or consenting to the same? You are best to advise and consider yourself, for the telling the truth in accusation of others, might be the way to save their (i.e. your own) lives." Whereupon I returned to the said Bartlett and conferred with him, and we did agree together falsely to accuse Peter Curryngton, for the saving of our own lives'; which accusation was untrue, and that the said Peter Curryngton was very ignorant and innocent of the same murder; and that he was sorry and did repent that he had accused him untruly. And more he cannot say.

"Edmund Marner, citizen of London and keeper of the Gaol of Newgate, aged forty-five years or thereabout, deposed, etc. … saith and deposeth upon his oath that the 15th day of November last past, being Saturday, John Philpott, clerk, etc., Edward Wilkinson and John Brown, ministers, came to the gaol of Newgate from the Sheriff of London, by a token, to this examinate, to speak with one Rafe Bartlett, prisoner there, being very sore sick."

The deposition of the gaoler was merely a confirmation of what had been deposed by the two previous witnesses.

"William Margytte, of London, Clerk, Reader of the Morning Prayer in the Parish of S. Sepulchre, and Ordinary for the Bishop of London, of the gaol of Newgate, aged forty years, deposed, sworn, and examined, etc., that about September last past, one Richard Baseley, then being prisoner in Newgate, and very sore sick, and like to die, did send for this examinate, to speak with him, and this examinate coming unto him, he said, 'This is the cause that I send for you. I am very sore sick, and more like to die than to live, and I think I shall not escape this sicknesse, and if I do, yet I must die for the law, for I and one of my neighbours did murder Master Curryngton, which I do not much repent. But the very cause that I sent for you is to be a means to Peter Curryngton, his son, whom I have accused to be privy and procuring of the same murder, that he would forgive me, for I have falsely accused him. For as I trust to be saved by Christ, he is utterly ignorant of the same murder, and there was none privy to the same but he, the said Baseley himself, and the said Bartlett, who committed the same.' And this examinate demanded of him why he did accuse Peter Curryngton. And he said that the cause was that after they were found guilty of the murder, Mr. Trevannyon, Sheriff of Cornwall, came unto and examined him, as to who was privy to the murder more than they; saying that they being so simple would not do the same without assistance; saying further that if he would confess the truth as to who helped or procured them to do the same, he would cause his chain to be stricken off, and carry him home with him at night, and would save his life, though it cost him (sum illegible), and thereupon in hope of life he did accuse the said Peter Curryngton falsely and wrongfully; and thereupon he said he would take his death. And the examinate, persuading him and advising him to repent and be sorry for the murder of the said Curryngton, calling to God heartily for mercy and forgiveness of the same. Which in the end with much ado he seemed to be sorry for … and also the examinate went into the same gaol at Newgate, to speak to Roll Bartlett, to understand whether it were true what the said Baseley had confessed; who declared unto the examinate, as he should answer before God, that Peter Curryngton was never privy nor of consent to the murder of his father, and that there was none privy or knew it but only he and the said Baseley; and the cause why they did kill him was for that he had misused them many ways, and also, they thought no man would be sorry for his death. And this examinate demanded of him the cause wherefore he did accuse the said Peter Curryngton, he answered, 'The fair promises of the Sheriff, and to the interest to preserve their lives, or, at least, to prolong them, was the only cause,' etc.

"In faith and testimony whereof we the said Mayor and Aldermen, – the common seal of our office of Mayoralty of the said city, to these presents, have caused to be put, written at the said city of London on the 23rd day of May, 1566, in the eighth year of the reign of our most gracious and benign Sovereign Lady Elizabeth, etc., etc."

It would appear that the murdered man had been not only a dragon in his house, but also in the entire neighbourhood, oppressing his tenants and disliked by the gentry. It is hard not to suspect that Sir Hugh Trevanion of Carhayes, who was then Sheriff of Cornwall, bore a personal grudge against Peter Coryton.

Peter, all obstacle to his marriage being removed, married the lady of his choice, and by her had three sons and six daughters. He died the 13th August, 1603.

The murderer Baseley died in Newgate, but Bartlett was sent back to Launceston and there hanged.