Cornish Characters and Strange Events

But to beg or to borrow, or get a man's own,
'Tis the very worst world that ever was known.

For some time he earned a living by hawking crockery about in Falmouth. Then, some sailors coming into the harbour brought with them some alligators. Burton spent his money on buying them, and then started out in quest of various herbalists, and disposed of the reptiles to them. A stuffed alligator hanging up in a shop was an object imposing on the imagination of patients.

In 1865 a number of Roman coins were found at Pennance Farm, in S. Budock, and Burton bought these, and then became an antiquary. At this time numerous vessels put in at Falmouth, and the sailors had brought with them parrots, apes, and all sorts of curiosities from foreign parts, and were prepared to sell them for very small sums. Burton bought as far as his profits would allow, and thus he became a curiosity dealer. He secured business premises in Market Street, and began to store them with odds and ends of every description. He rambled about in Cornwall, and his keen eye detected at once a bit of old china, a scrap of carved oak, an odd signboard, a piece of Chippendale furniture, a framed sampler, and he bought everywhere, and stocked his premises. As his business grew he advertised extensively, and gradually but surely built up an extensive business. In curiosities he became a very Whiteley. Any one who desired anything peculiar could apply to John Burton, and John Burton would supply it, if not a genuine antique, yet "made to order," and indistinguishable from an antique. When there began to be a run on Bristol lustre ware, he was ready with a stock, which went off rapidly. He bought old muskets by the thousand, and sent them abroad to arm savage nations in Africa and Asia.

One day a Scotchman entered his shop and said to Burton, "I am looking out for a man who can sell me three sixpences for a shilling."

"Then I am the man for you," said Burton, and produced three defective sixpences.

"I'll have another shilling's worth," said the Scotchman.

"Ah! then I cannot accommodate you; but I can do better – give you a bad shilling for a good one."

On one occasion the curator of the Edinburgh Museum wrote down to him for the eleventh vertebra of the skeleton of a whale that he had, but which was wanting. By return of post Burton sent him up what he needed.

He had a marvellous memory – remembering all the multifarious items in his shop, though they were continually changing.

When the new Eddystone Lighthouse was erected, he wrote to Trinity House and offered £500 for Smeaton's lighthouse that had been taken down. This roused a storm of indignation in Plymouth, and ended in that town securing it for £1600, to be erected on the Hoe.

The town of Penryn possessed its old stocks, bearing date 1673. These he bought for £2, and sold them to a Devizes antiquary for a large sum. Then he purchased a haunted house – Trevethan Hall, in Falmouth – but as the ghost could not be turned into money, he pulled the house down and built on its site Mount Edgcumbe Terrace.

During many years a stream of tourists, walking, bicycling, motoring, has circulated round Cornwall, starting from Bideford, careering to the Land's End, and returning by the south coast to Plymouth, and hardly a tourist thought of visiting Falmouth without going to Burton's Curiosity Shop and making a purchase there. Indeed, he and his shop were some of the sights of Cornwall. He had by nature great ready wit, and a bluntness of manner which he cultivated, and which gave poignancy to dealings with him. But his bluntness, which was part of the stock-in-trade, was not infrequently carried too far, and became impertinence. He had a real love for his genuine curios, and parted with them reluctantly; and this he allowed to be seen. In this he was wholly unlike the ordinary dealer who presses his wares on the hesitating purchaser. When the present King, then Prince of Wales, visited Falmouth in 1887, the Prince having a cold sent Mr. Cavendish Bentinck to the Curiosity Shop to request that Mr. Burton would send a collection of what was most interesting in his shop for the Prince's inspection. Upon this he addressed the following letter to the Prince: —

"Respected Albert Edward. – I much regret to find you are indisposed. If I were to fetch to Kerrisvean a Pickford's wagon-load of samples it would be utterly impossible to convey the remotest idea of my ponderous conglomeration of curios; but if I could prevail upon Your Royal Highness to go through my shanty, I would give you local wit and humour which would throw you into a state of laughter, and there is every probability it would counteract your cold. – Yours until we meet in the next hotel,

    "John Burton."

This, which he doubtless thought very smart, was mere insolence. In fact, he had not a large store of "local wit and humour," and mistook rudeness for fun. But he was often encouraged in this. A lady once entered his shop and said, "You've a rum lot of stuff here, old boy; how much do you ask for that pair of vases?"

"Six guineas."

"I'll give you five, old fellow."

"Then, old girl, they are yours. Where shall I send them, and to whom?"

"To the Duchess of – ."

"Oh! I beg Your Grace's pardon; I have been too familiar."

"Not at all. You treated me as I have treated you."

John Burton was an abstemious man, and believed that by moderate diet and moderation in drinking he would – and any man would – live to the age of a hundred. He had framed for himself a code of rules to ensure a long life.

1. Eight hours' sleep and that on your right side, and sleep with the bedroom window open. Fresh air is essential.

2. Do not have your bedstead against the wall, so that the air may circulate about you freely.

3. Take a glass of hot water on rising, and a bath at blood temperature, and take exercise before breakfast.

4. Eat little meat and see that it be well cooked, and be careful to eat plenty of fat.

5. Take plenty of daily exercise in the open air.

6. Have no pet animals in your living-room.

7. Avoid tea – the tannin turns meat to leather and spoils digestion, but take little or no intoxicant.

8. Keep guard against man's three enemies, the three D's – Damp, Drains, and impure Drinking water.

9. Change of occupation, and frequent, if short, holidays.

10. Eat plenty of fruit and vegetables.

11. Keep your temper, and keep a cheery mind.

12. Limit your ambition to what you can do.

But, notwithstanding these rules, John Burton did not live to a great age. He died of a painful internal disease on May 28th, 1907. He had eight children by his wife. One son, John, has a large earthenware establishment in Falmouth; another – the image of his father in face – carries on the "Old Curiosity Shop."

THE FATE OF SIR CLOUDESLEY SHOVEL

The life of Sir Cloudesley Shovel, Knt. and Admiral, must be given in few words, as his association with Cornwall was in his death and not in his birth and life.

He was born about the year 1650, of parents in Norfolk in a humble condition of life, and he was made a cobbler's apprentice, but, disliking this profession, ran away to sea. He was at first a cabin-boy with Sir Christopher Mynns; but, applying himself to the study of navigation with indefatigable industry, his skill as a seaman soon raised him above that station. The corsairs of Tripoli had for long committed great depredations on the English in the Mediterranean, plundering and capturing merchant vessels and carrying off the crews into slavery. Sir John Narborough was sent in 1674 to reduce them to reason. As he had received orders to try the effects of negotiation before he proceeded to hostilities, he sent Mr. Shovel, who was at that time a lieutenant in his fleet, to demand satisfaction. The Dey treated him with disrespect, and sent him back without an answer. Sir John despatched him a second time, with orders to observe the position of the piratical fleet in the harbour. The behaviour of the Dey was as insolent as possible. Upon Mr. Shovel's return he informed Sir John that it would be possible, notwithstanding the batteries commanding the harbour, to cut out or burn the ships therein, and he volunteered to command an expedition in boats for the purpose. His offer was accepted, and he managed to burn in the harbour, under the castle and walls of Tripoli, the guard-ship and four men-of-war belonging to the pirates of that place, and to force the Dey to accept such conditions of peace as Sir John Narborough was pleased to impose on him.

Sir John Narborough gave so favourable an account of this exploit, that Shovel was soon after made captain of the Sapphire, a fifth-rate ship.

In the skirmish of Bantry Bay, 1689, he was engaged, and won such scanty laurels as the unworthy Admiral Herbert allowed his fleet to deserve. James II had his Court in Dublin. A French fleet, commanded by the Count de Château-Renaud, had anchored in Bantry Bay, and had put on shore a large quantity of military stores and money. Herbert, who had been sent to those seas with an English squadron for the express purpose of intercepting the communications between France and Ireland, sailed into the bay with purpose of giving battle. But the wind was unfavourable, and Herbert was without dash and energy, and was a traitor at heart. After some trifling discharge of gunpowder, which caused no serious loss of life on either side, he deemed it prudent to stand out to sea, and allow the French fleet to retire unmolested.

But according to Herbert's report, a great victory had been gained by him, and the House of Commons, believing what he stated, absurdly passed a vote of thanks to him. We may well conceive the rage of heart and scorn of his admiral that consumed Shovel at the feeble attack and cowardly retreat. At the time he was commander of the Edgar, and was soon after knighted by King William.

Next year he was employed in transporting an army into Ireland, a service which he performed with such diligence and dexterity that the King raised him to the rank of Rear-Admiral of the Blue, and delivered to him his commission with his own hands. Soon after he was made Rear-Admiral of the Red, and shared in the glory of the victory of La Hogue. In 1694 he bombarded Dunkirk.

In 1702 he was sent with a squadron of about twenty men-of-war to join the Grand Fleet, and bring home the galleons and other rich boats taken by the Duke of Ormond and Sir George Rooke at Vigo.

The next year he was promoted to a higher post, being appointed as Commander-in-Chief of the Confederate Fleet in the Mediterranean, consisting of thirty-five English and fourteen Dutch men-of-war. On entering the Leghorn roads, the Governor refused to accord a royal salute. Sir Cloudesley peremptorily ordered the salute to be given, or to expect all the guns of the fleet to ask the question why it had not been at once accorded. The threat sufficed. In this expedition Sir Cloudesley sent two men-of-war to endeavour to supply the Camisards of the Cevennes with money, arms, and ammunition, but failed to obtain communication with them.

Soon after the battle off Malaga he was presented by Prince George of Denmark to Queen Anne; she received him graciously, and the next year employed him as Commander-in-Chief.

In the month of June, 1704, he had his share in the honour of taking Gibraltar; and by his admirable conduct, bravery, and success in the sea-fight that happened soon after, between the Confederate and French fleets, obliged the enemy's van to bear away out of the reach of his cannon, and the Count of Toulouse to follow the example of his van, and escape out of danger. Although in this action Sir Cloudesley was second in command, yet he won the principal credit for its success, and some months after was appointed Rear-Admiral of England.

In 1705 he commanded the fleet, together with the Earl of Portsmouth, which was sent into the Mediterranean, and it was mainly owing to him that Barcelona was taken.

After an unsuccessful attempt upon Toulon he sailed for Gibraltar, and from thence on Michaelmas Day homeward with a part of his fleet, consisting of fifteen men-of-war, five of a lesser rank, and one yacht. He was on the Association, Sir George Byng was commander on the Royal Arms, Lord Dursley on the S. George.

On the 22nd of October Sir Cloudesley Shovel being enveloped in fog, and taking soundings in ninety fathoms, he brought to and lay by from noon till six o'clock in the evening, when, as the wind freshened and blew from the S.S.W., he made signal for sailing. The fleet steered E. by N. and supposing that they had the Channel open some of the ships ran upon the rocks of Scilly, before they were aware, about eight o'clock at night, and at once made signals of distress. The Association, in which was Sir Cloudesley Shovel, struck upon the rocks near the Bishop and his Clerks, and went down with all hands on board.

The same fate befell the Eagle and the Romney. The Firebrand was likewise dashed upon the rocks and foundered; but the captain and four-and-twenty of his men saved themselves in a boat. And Captain Sansom, who commanded the Phœnix, being driven towards the shore, was forced to abandon his ship to save his men. The Royal Arms was saved by great presence of mind in both Sir George Byng and his officers and men, who in a minute, on perceiving the rocks not a ship's length to leeward, as well as those on which Sir Cloudesley Shovel was lost, set her topsails and sheered off. Nor had Lord Dursley, commanding the S. George, a less fortunate escape; for his ship was dashed upon the same reef as that on which the Association had been wrecked; but the same wave that beat out the lights of Sir Cloudesley's vessel lifted the S. George and floated it away.