FOOTNOTES:
[101] He was one of five children, two of whom were boys and three girls.
[102] The Scilly Isles.
[103] Presented to the Royal Society by Lady Davy, after her husband's decease. This picture had a narrow escape from being lost; it was, however, discovered by Mr. Davies Gilbert in the garret of a man named Newton, who was to have engraved it, and was rescued at the cost of £10, paid to the landlady, who was unable to get her rent from her impecunious lodger. There are other portraits of him by Lonsdale, as P.R.S.; by Howard (when Davy was twenty-three); by Jackson (when he was forty-five); a bust; and the statue erected in December, 1878 (after the portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence, in front of the Market-house, Penzance, near Davy's old house in Market Jew Street, (now rebuilt,) and about half-way between it and the Star Inn.) He also appears in the print of the Woburn Sheep-shearing, published by Garrard in 1811.
[104] More than enough has been made by Davy's critics of his admiration for the aristocracy; but 'it is not true' (as George Eliot observed) 'that a man's intellectual power is, like the strength of a timber beam, to be measured by its weakest point.'
[105] The house was in the corner which formed the north angle of the square.
[106] Just as another Cornishman—Richard Trevithick—was the first who applied steam to agriculture.
[107] Becker tells us how the ladies so admired his handsome eyes that they vowed they were 'made for something besides poring over crucibles.'
[108] Amongst the former of whom may be mentioned De Quincey, Godwin, and Coleridge, who used frequently to meet at the miserable rooms of the latter, then at the office of the Courier newspaper, in the Strand.
[109] It was on one of these occasions that Davy, when out shooting partridges one day at Rokeby, persuaded Roderick Murchison to come up to town, and 'set to at science.'
[110] On 20th October, 1818, he was made a Baronet.
[111] By his will Davy provided that, in certain contingencies, this service should be melted down in order to provide a fund for the reward of original, meritorious discoveries in Science, either 'in Europe or Anglo-America.'
[112] Byron's lines in the first canto of 'Don Juan' will doubtless recur to many of my readers:
'This is the patent age of new inventions
For killing bodies and for saving souls,
All propagated with the best intentions;
Sir Humphry Davy's lantern by which coals
Are safely mined for in the mode he mentions.'
Jackson's account of Timbuctoo; the narrative of Robert Adams, a sailor; Dr. Leyden's 'Discoveries in Africa,' and other works, are then hinted at; and the poet goes on, sardonically, to say that all these
'Are ways to benefit mankind, as true
Perhaps, as shooting them at Waterloo.'
[113] Whilst at Naples he made the acquaintance of one of the guides up Vesuvius, whom Davy commissioned to inform him from time to time of the state of the volcano; the man used occasionally to communicate with him, and the letters reached Sir Humphry, notwithstanding their phonetic address:
'Siromfredevi,
'Londra.'
[114] As a rule he is said to have been careless about his costume; it was with the greatest difficulty that he was persuaded to don a quasi-court dress in order to be presented to the Empress Josephine, and his negligent appearance and manners often surprised his Continental acquaintances. About one thing, however, he was rather particular; and that was to wear a wide-brimmed hat whenever he could.
[115] The Davy medal of the Royal Society was, in 1882, presented, in duplicate, to D. Mendelejeff and Lothar Meyer for their discovery of the periodic relations of the atomic weights.
[116] He would often go two or three hundred miles for a day's fishing, and has more than once patiently fished all day long without a rise; he was, however, generally a successful as well as an enthusiastic fisherman, but seems to have been thought somewhat clumsy in his manipulation.
[117] The first edition was genially reviewed by Sir Walter Scott in the Quarterly Review, xxxviii. 503. Sir Walter used to say of Davy, in allusion to his well-known preference for his old associates and acquaintances, that 'he never forgot a friend.'
[118] It should, perhaps, be remarked here that Davy was an excellent linguist.
[119] The centenary of his birth was celebrated at Penzance in February, 1879.
[120] There is also a tablet to his memory in the north transept of Westminster Abbey.
[121] Dr. Paris, F.R.S., has appended to his 'Life of Davy' an historical sketch of the revolutions in chemical science produced by his discoveries, and also a list of his chief works, which may conveniently be consulted by those who desire more detailed information as to Davy's scientific triumphs.
[ADMIRAL VISCOUNT EXMOUTH.]
ADMIRAL VISCOUNT EXMOUTH.
'Hearts of oak! our captain cried—
When each gun
From its adamantine lips
Spread a death-shade round the ships,
Like the hurricane eclipse
Of the sun.'
Campbell.
The life of this gallant sailor and good man was told so admirably in 1835, by my late valued friend, Edward Osler, F.L.S.—for many years editor of the Royal Cornwall Gazette, and himself one of our Cornish Athenæ—that his memoir must necessarily form the backbone of any account of Lord Exmouth's career. To Mr. Osier's well-known work I would therefore refer those who desire a more detailed account than space allows me to give to the subject of this chapter. I should, however, add that I have been fortunate enough to gather some facts to which even Mr. Osier does not refer in his elaborate memoir.
Lord Exmouth's career was both eventful and distinguished; but, notwithstanding its brilliancy, his chief glory was his unswerving devotion to his country, irrespective of all party feeling (and he was a strong Tory)—his generosity in recognising to the fullest extent the merits of his subordinates—his combined strictness and kindness to his men—and his constant recognition of the Divine Hand in all his victories. No vessel under the orders of Pellew was ever taken by the enemy.
Like many another Cornish worthy, Edward Pellew was a man of comparatively small beginnings. Originally, it is said, of Norman extraction, the Pellews were an old-established West Cornwall family, whose tombs may still be found at Breage. Humphry Pellew, his grandfather, an American merchant, the builder of part of the little town of Flushing in Falmouth harbour, took for his wife, in 1692, Judith Sparnon of Sparnon and Pengelly in Breage, by whom he had six children; but the children of Samuel, the youngest son (who was only eight years old when his father died in 1721), were at length the only male survivors of the family. This Samuel Pellew, Lord Exmouth's father, a man of determined character, commanded a post-office packet on the Dover station. He married in 1752 Constance, daughter of Edward Langford, Esq., of a Herefordshire family, settled at or near Penzance—a woman, Mr. Osier says, 'of extraordinary spirit,' and fitted, as indeed her husband also was, to be a parent of heroes.
In 1765 Samuel Pellew died, leaving a widow and six children; of whom Edward, the second, was born at Dover, 19th April, 1757. In 1765 he removed with his mother to Penzance; and here, when quite a child, gave an early instance of his love of the 'pomp and circumstance of glorious war,' by walking all the way from Penzance to Helston, in order to follow a troop of soldiers; and of his indomitable courage, when somewhat older, by removing from a burning house a quantity of gunpowder which had been stored there. He frequently played truant from school in order to get into a boat at the quay; and was a great favourite with the loafers there, who taught him to box. Bottrell says that Mrs. Pellew and her family lived in a thatched cottage 'near the Alverton entrance to Fox's gardens;' the house still stands, on the left-hand side of the road as the traveller leaves Penzance for the Land's End.
The Truro Grammar School, where the Rev. R. Polwhele was one of his schoolfellows, as appears from his 'Reminiscences,'[122] was the next scene of his combative energy; and here he thrashed so many of his schoolfellows, that, in order to escape a still severer thrashing with which the head-master (then Mr. Conon) threatened him, he ran away, and—against his grandfather's consent, but luckily for English glory, and for his own fame—went to sea. Whilst at Truro, hastening through the courtyard of the Red Lion Hotel to assist in putting out a fire, Pellew found the high back gate shut; but he sprang over it, and I remember the spot being pointed out to me in evidence of his strength and agility. His freaks on the water in after-life were of the most daring kind, and he often set the example on board ship, when no sailor could be found bold and active enough to perform some dangerous act of seamanship.
In the year 1770, being then about thirteen or fourteen years of age, Edward Pellew entered the Navy in the Juno, and went his first voyage to the Falkland Islands. Thence, under the same captain (Stott), he sailed in the Alarm to the Mediterranean, where, at Marseilles—a place which he was destined afterwards to save from destruction by its own inhabitants—he left the ship, in consequence of a gross and uncalled-for insult inflicted by the Captain on one of Pellew's brother midshipmen, named Cole.
He next joined the Blonde, under Captain Pownoll—who had been trained in the school of another Cornish naval hero, Admiral Boscawen—and with whom he soon became a prime favourite. It was on board the Blonde that he so alarmed and amused General Burgoyne, by standing on his head on the yard-arm when the General came on board to make his ill-starred expedition to America; and from the fore-yard of the same ship Pellew sprang to rescue a man who had fallen overboard. His magnificent physique and perfect courage enabled him to perform similar services on more than one occasion.
A smart engagement with a superior American force on Lake Champlain was his next exploit, in which, though unsuccessful, he found another opportunity of showing his coolness and bravery; and his services on this occasion gained him his lieutenant's commission. Shortly afterwards he very nearly captured, single-handed, the American Commander-in-Chief Arnold. The stock and buckle, which General Arnold left behind him in his flight, were long (and perhaps still are) preserved by the Pellew family.
Joining Burgoyne's unlucky army, and sharing in all the dangers and hardships which it underwent, Pellew, though only twenty years old, was summoned to the council of war at Saratoga, at which (against his own advice) it was resolved, in October, 1777, to capitulate to an American force of double the strength of the English. On his way home to England, in a transport, he fought an American privateer, and beat her off with his usual pluck and skill.
On receiving his commission to a guard-ship, he threatened to throw it up rather than remain at so inactive a post; and it was not until he declared his intention to command a privateer that he obtained his appointment to the Licorne, in which he sailed for Newfoundland in the spring of 1779. He returned, however, to England in the following winter, and joined the Apollo, under his old friend—his 'only one on earth,' as he said—Captain Pownoll, taking part in an engagement with the French frigate Stanislaus, on which occasion the Captain left to Pellew the honour of completing her capture.
The old sloop Hazard, of which he was promoted to be commander, was his next ship, and the East Coast of Scotland his station in the summer of 1780. Then followed the Pelican, a French prize, whilst commanding which he drove ashore some French privateers near the Isle of Bass, an exploit for which he was made a post-captain on board the Suffolk:—thus obtaining every step in his profession as a reward for some successful action. When it is added that, whilst in temporary command of the Artois, he captured on 1st July, 1782, the French frigate Prince of Robego, we may conclude this part of his career by observing that this was his last service before the Peace, which left him without any employment in His Majesty's service for four years.
The year 1783 saw him a denizen of Truro,[123] and married to Susan, daughter of J. Frowde, Esq., of Knowle, in Wiltshire. Doubtless, in his wooing, he told her—
'Of all the wonders of the mighty deep,
Tales that would make a maiden love to weep,
Of perils manifold and strange, and storms,
Battle, and wreck, and thousand feller forms,
Which Death, careering on the terrible sea,
Puts on to prove the true knight's constancy.'
It was probably about this time, also, that he became, according to Polwhele, a member of the Truro Corporation. He soon, however, removed to Flushing, near Falmouth, a curious little village, which had for Pellew, as we have seen, family associations, and where his elder brother, Samuel Humphry, formerly a surgeon of Marines, was collector of the Customs.
In 1786 we find him on board the Winchelsea, and once more on the Newfoundland station, into every harbour of which he squeezed his ship with the utmost intrepidity, often exhibiting remarkable feats of personal strength and activity.
The Winchelsea was paid off in 1789, and till 1791 Captain Pellew served in the Salisbury, of 50 guns, again on the Newfoundland station; and this time with his younger brother, Israel, as first lieutenant. He afterwards became Admiral Sir Israel Pellew, K.C.B.—an officer whose distinguished career was scarcely less illustrious than that of his more celebrated brother. He was born at Flushing in 1761, and died at Plymouth in 1832. His ship, the Amphion, of 32 guns, blew up in the Hamoaze, Plymouth, on 22nd September, 1796, and only her commander and a few others escaped with their lives.
Once again the distasteful 'piping times of peace' came round; and Pellew, for want of something to do, turned farmer. His experiments in this capacity were made on the little family estate of Treverry, near Falmouth; but they were a failure; and the declaration of war against France, in February, 1793, promised him a most agreeable relief after his enforced idleness. He was appointed to the Nymphe (formerly a French frigate) of 36 guns; and, to Cornishmen at least, his connexion with this ship—manned as she was for the most part by Cornish miners, eighty of whom joined her at Spithead—is one of the most interesting parts of his career. On the evening of 19th June, 1793, the Nymphe came up with the French frigate Cleopatra,[124] of 40 guns, and after a furious cannonade of three-quarters of an hour, the Cornish crew, most of whom had certainly smelt powder before (underground), though none had ever before heard a cannon fired, had the proud delight of seeing the enemy's pennant hauled down, and of capturing the first frigate in the war,—thus illustrating Drayton's lines in his 'Barons' Warres':
'For courage no whit second to the best,
The Cornishmen, most active, bold, and light.'
For this action Pellew was knighted ten days afterwards. The Portsmouth correspondent of the Gentleman's Magazine, writing in July, 1793, of this engagement, says that 'the commencement of the action between the Nymphe and Cleopatra was the most notable and awful that the naval history of the world ever recorded. The French captain ordered his ship to be manned, and, coming forward on the gangway, pulled off his hat, and called out, "Vive la nation!" when the ship's company gave three cheers. Captain Pellew, in like manner, ordered his men from quarters to the shrouds, and gave three cheers to "Long live King George the Third!" and his putting on his hat again was the signal for action, one of the most desperate ever fought.' The captain of the Cleopatra, Citoyen Mullon, was buried in Portsmouth churchyard.
In January, 1794, he joined the Arethusa, which formed one of the cruising frigates of the Western Squadron, a branch of the service which our hero may be said to have originated. In the engagement between the small French and English squadrons on 23rd April, 1794, off the Isle of Bass, he captured the Pomone, a larger vessel than his own, and carried her into Portsmouth harbour, on which occasion Pellew received the warmest thanks of the First Lord of the Admiralty, and of Earl Howe. Another French squadron was, in the following August, driven ashore near Brest, by Pellew and his brave companions in arms; and the Channel was thus practically cleared of the enemy's cruisers for a while. But the following October saw the Frenchmen once more on the move; and it was not until after a smart engagement off Ushant between the Artois and the large French frigate Révolutionnaire, on which occasion Pellew commanded the squadron, that the French navy was completely cowed.
On the 2nd January, 1795, private intelligence having reached Sir Edward that the enemy's fleet, consisting of thirty-five sail of the line, thirteen frigates, and sixteen smaller vessels, had put to sea from Brest, he set forth from Falmouth with his little squadron of five ships to reconnoitre; but no engagement resulted from this expedition.
He now joined the Indefatigable, which he successfully insisted upon having cut down and rigged after his own method. She sailed from Falmouth on 2nd March; and shortly after, the squadron of which she formed part captured fifteen out of a convoy of twenty-five vessels near the Penmarcks rocks.
The scene now shifts to Plymouth Sound, where he performed, on 26th January, 1796, one of the most heroic acts that it has ever fallen to the lot of man to accomplish. He was in evening dress, and on his way to a dinner-party, when he heard that a large ship, an East Indiaman, the Dutton, was on the rocks under the citadel, and that no one was able to go to her assistance; but, with his usual hardihood, he swam out to her through the surf, and thus became the means of saving the lives of between 500 and 600 of his fellow-creatures. This service he performed at the imminent risk of his own life, and when, as we have seen, no other witness of the wild scene had the courage to make the attempt. For his gallant conduct on this memorable occasion he was created a baronet, as Sir Edward Pellew, of Treverry. The Corporation of Plymouth voted him the freedom of their town, and the merchants of Liverpool presented him with a service of plate. The civic wreath and the stranded ship which appear as honourable augmentations on his coat-of-arms were derived from this event.
On the 20th April following, our sailor was again at sea, and the action was fought between the Indefatigable and the Virginie, which ended—as usual with Pellew—in victory. 'He takes everything!' said the brave French Captain Bergeret, weeping bitterly as he surrendered his sword to his opponent.
November, 1798, witnessed the well-known futile descent of the French upon Ireland. In the ineffectual steps taken by the British fleet to prevent it, Pellew had no share beyond watching Brest, and reporting progress. But in January, 1799, he fell in with the Droits de l'Homme, and, in the midst of a furious gale, and after an engagement of eleven hours (during the latter part of which the Indefatigable was assisted by the Amazon, Captain Reynolds),[125] the French ship was driven on shore in the Bay of Audierne. The Amazon was also wrecked, and the Indefatigable herself had a narrow escape.
The capture of a few privateers is all we now have to chronicle until we hear of Sir Edward making the daring proposal of attacking with a few frigates the whole of the French fleet then in harbour at Brest; but, whether from timidity on the part of the Admiralty, or, as was suggested, from the jealousy of Pellew's superior officer, Lord Bridport, the offer was declined.
The Impetueux, one of his captures from the French, was his next ship; and in her, at Bantry Bay, he promptly quelled a mutiny, which, but for his courage and sagacity, would probably have extended to other ships, whose disaffected crews, demoralized by the reports of the mutinies at Spithead and the Nore, were, it is said, only waiting a successful result of the rising on board Sir Edward's ship. The Impetueux soon after joined Earl St. Vincent in the Mediterranean, and formed part of the force which pursued the combined fleets from the Mediterranean to Brest.
In the siege of Ferrol, August, 1800, the Impetueux played an important part; but, Pellew's advice (which seemed to Sir J. B. Warren too dangerous to follow) not being taken, the place was not captured; though it was afterwards discovered that Pellew's advice should have been followed, and that the garrison were quite prepared to lay down their arms.
A short period of retirement which he spent in the bosom of his family at Trefusis, on the shores of Falmouth harbour, followed.
The year 1801 saw him nearly at the head of the list of post-captains, and appointed a Colonel of Marines. In the following year he was elected Member for Barnstaple; but inactive posts did not suit him, and at the very first moment possible he returned to his beloved profession, being appointed to the Tonnant, of 80 guns, one of the Channel fleet. Detached from the squadron, together with the Mars and the Spartiate and five other sail of the line, which were placed under his orders, he blockaded the French at Corunna and at Ferrol. But he was recalled by the Ministry in order to support the Government against an attack made upon their Naval Administration by Pitt, and on Pellew's excellent speech on this occasion the vindication of the Ministry is said to have in a great measure depended.
On 23rd April, 1804, he was promoted to be Rear-Admiral of the White, and was appointed Commander-in-Chief in India, hoisting his flag in the Culloden. Whilst on this station he was ever on the alert for French and Dutch privateers, of most of which the Admiral himself or his captains never failed to give a good account, to the great advantage of British commerce. The destruction of the enemy's fleet at Batavia, on 2nd November, 1805, was an expedition on a larger scale. In this Sir Edward's son, Captain Fleetwood Pellew,[126] in the Terpsichore, took a prominent part; and a successful attack upon Sourabaya, in Java, soon followed. This sums up his Oriental experiences; and in February, 1809, he sailed from India with a fleet of Indiamen under his convoy, and safely arrived once more in England, after a narrow escape during a severe gale. The spring of the following year, 1810, saw him, on board the Christian VII., and Commander-in-Chief in the North Sea, effectively blockading the Dutch fleet in the Scheldt.
In 1811, in the Caledonia, he succeeded Sir Charles Cotton as Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean fleet, jealously watching the coast from the Ionian Islands to Gibraltar, and striving, with the utmost energy and success, to promote the efficiency and welfare of all who served under him. He was present at the capitulation of Genoa in February, 1814; and shortly afterwards saw the termination of the war, and the confinement of Napoleon as a prisoner in the island of Elba.
Of this happy event advantage was taken by the Government to confer on our hero the dignity of a baron—an unexpected honour to him—and he chose 'Exmouth of Canonteign' as his title, that being an estate which he had purchased as a family property. He also obtained the pension usually granted for services so distinguished as his had been (it amounted to £2,000 a year), and the next year he received the additional honour of being made a G.C.B.
He went to the Mediterranean again in 1815, on the return of Napoleon from Elba, hoisting his flag in the Boyne, with his brother, Sir Israel Pellew, as Captain of the Fleet. Naples he rescued from anarchy on the flight of Murat before the Austrian army, and for this service King Ferdinand gave him the Order of St. Ferdinand and Merit. Next he saved Marseilles from the rebel Marshal Brune; and finally spent the winter of this year in Leghorn roads.
The commencement of 1816 found him preparing for what is perhaps his most celebrated exploit, viz., the siege of Algiers; the objects of which, it will be remembered, were to obtain the release of all the Ionian slaves, who, by recent political arrangements, had become British subjects; and to repress the piratical excursions of the Barbary States.
The preliminary reconnoitre was admirably performed by Captain Warde, and the squadron, shortly afterwards, set sail for Algiers, where the demand for the release of the Christian slaves was forthwith promised. Tunis and Tripoli followed suit; and Lord Exmouth returned to Algiers in order to press upon the Dey the abolition of Christian slavery. Only evasive answers could, however, be procured; and, having secured from the Dey a promise at least to treat, the British Admiral returned for a short space to England for further instructions.
It need scarcely be said that Mr. Osler's description of the siege of Algiers, the guilty 'pirate city,' is given with all that perspicacity and fullness of detail which characterized all his literary work; and to his account the technical reader may confidently be referred. The formidable sea defences alone consisted of 500 guns; and these Exmouth proposed to attack with only five sail of the line! Nelson is said to have named (under incorrect information, it is true) twenty-five as the proper force; but, at any rate, the attack of such fortifications as these by a few ships was quite a novelty in the annals of war.
Joined by five frigates, four bomb-vessels, and five gun-brigs, the fleet sailed from Portsmouth on the 25th July, 1816, practising regularly with their guns on the voyage, and arriving before Algiers on the 26th August.
Very early on the following morning, after waiting long and anxiously for the sea-breeze, which came at last, the Queen Charlotte, with Lord Exmouth (now sixty-five years of age) on board, led the attack amidst three ringing cheers from his men;—and in a few minutes her broadsides destroyed the defences of the Mole. It was reported that 500 Moors were killed by the first discharge of the English guns. The Algerines then attempted, in their gunboats, to board the British ships; but, as soon as they were discovered through the smoke, the heavy guns of the Leander and other ships sent 33 out of the 37 which composed the flotilla to the bottom. The enemy's ships at anchor were then fired; and by ten at night, after a cannonade of nearly nine hours, the town and fortifications of Algiers were in ruins. 128 men only were killed and 690 wounded in the British ships, and 13 killed and 52 wounded in the Dutch squadron—losses by no means excessive under the circumstances; the enemy's loss, which must have been fearful, is not known. Lord Exmouth was struck (but only very slightly wounded) in three places; yet his coat was slit and torn by musket-balls as if it had been slashed by a madman's scissors.[127]
British sailors had never fought more bravely and determinedly, or in grimmer silence. When wadding failed, they cut up their clothes as a substitute for it; and even the women on board handed the shot and shell to their husbands. The Impregnable and the Leander suffered most from the enemy's fire; the former was hulled by 263 shot, 209 of which were between wind and water, and she herself discharged 6,730 round shot.
The next morning, the 28th of July, the Dey, Omar Pasha, a brutal and ferocious ex-Aga of Janissaries, whilst Algiers was in flames, and her sea-batteries pounded into ruins, sent in his complete submission; peace was signed under a salute of 21 guns for England, and the same for Holland; and 3,003 slaves, of whom 1,083 were Christians, and some of whom were English, were liberated, and returned to their respective countries.
Honours now fell thick and fast upon Lord Exmouth. He was created a Viscount by George III.; the Kings of Holland, Spain, and Sardinia conferred knighthood upon him; the City of London voted him its freedom; Oxford conferred upon him the degree of D.C.L.; and he received the thanks of Parliament; the letter from the Speaker, dated 3rd February, 1817, conveying them, being as follows:
'In transmitting to your Lordship this honourable testimony of the gratitude of your country, I cannot withhold the expression of my own personal satisfaction that this age of military exploits has not closed without so splendid an increase of our naval glory; and that the great work, of which all Christian States had so long and justly desired to see the accomplishment, has been performed with a display of skill and valour which have enrolled your Lordship's name upon the annals of the nation in the most distinguished rank of her naval commanders.'
Pellew had now attained the summit of his ambition; and, in 1817, having been appointed to the naval command at Plymouth,[128] was instrumental in saving from destruction the historic fortress of Pendennis Castle, which, from motives of economy, the Government of the day had proposed to destroy.
He passed the close of his life quietly near Teignmouth, the only additional honour which was bestowed upon him being that of his appointment, in 1832, as Vice-Admiral of England, a post which, however, he only filled for a few months; for, on the 23rd of January, 1833, in the seventy-sixth year of his age, the old sea lion calmly passed away, in pious confidence, to his rest. A brother officer who was often with him during his last hours, said, 'I have seen him great in battle, but never so great as on his death-bed.'
He was buried at Christow, the parish in which are the family mansion and estate of Canonteign; and in the church there an elaborate marble monument records his faith and piety, his honours and his virtues.
There are three or four good portraits of Pellew, of which the three-quarter length by Northcote in the National Portrait Gallery is perhaps the best. It gives the unmistakably Cornish physiognomy of the original, and does full justice to the determined look of the lower part of his face. It was exhibited at the Royal Academy Exhibition at Somerset House in 1819, when Pellew was sixty-two years of age. Another fine portrait is by Sir Wm. Beechy (engraved by C. Turner), a full-length, representing the hero on the deck of the Queen Charlotte at the siege of Algiers, giving orders for furling her mainsail, when she was in imminent danger of being set on fire by an Algerine vessel, which was in flames close by.