On leaving London, he travelled by coach to Exeter, to visit his friends, but stopping at an inn on the road to dine, instead of conforming to the customs of his fellow-travellers, he followed those which he had been obliged to adopt in Asia, to the no small amusement of his companions, and the equal astonishment of the people belonging to the house. His bones, offal, and rejected food, without ceremony were thrown on the floor, no regard being paid either to company or carpets; and when admonished of the impropriety of his conduct, his inattention to the hints which were given, and perseverance in domestic irregularity, only served to confirm those who witnessed his singularities, that he was either deranged, or some foreigner totally unacquainted with the refinements of civilized life. A British sailor, however, in any disguise, if flowing with money, can easily make his peace with a waiter at an inn, and metamorphose a frowning aspect into a smiling countenance.
On reaching Exeter, he learned that his mother, and sister Dannan with her husband, were living at Porlock. Thither he repaired; and, that he might reach this place in a style suited to his purse, he entered it in a chaise drawn by four horses, and drove immediately to their door. Surprised at this equipage, his sister first appeared, of whom, on putting his head out of the window, he inquired if Mrs. Scurry lived there, and was within? He was answered, that this was the place of her abode, but that just then she was not within. He then requested that she might be called, but could scarcely restrain his impatience during the absence of the messenger. On his mother’s arrival, he inquired whether she had not a son in India? She replied, that she once had a son there, but not having heard from him for many years, she concluded he was dead. This latter was a point which he seemed to doubt, but his mother was not to be dissuaded from a belief which she had so long indulged.
While this conversation was carrying on, his sister, Mrs. Dannan, who was listening with much attention, and viewing this stranger with eagerness, imagined that she could discover, amidst the scars of conflict, the effects of an equinoctial sun, and the furrows of distress, some remnants of features that had once been familiar. Full of this persuasion, she hailed him as her long-lost brother, nor did he keep her in any tedious suspense. His mother, however, was not so easily convinced. She had concluded that her son was dead, and the appearance of this stranger was not calculated to remove the unfavourable impression. But the chaise and four being dismissed, his mother’s unbelief gave way, and mutual recognition and joy succeeded to the astonishment that had been excited.
Having, during his long absence, and the scenes of distress through which he was called to pass, lost nearly all his European acquirements, Mr. Scurry turned his attention to learning for nearly two years, improving himself in writing and arithmetic, under the tuition of his brother-in-law at Porlock. During this period, he made such proficiency, as qualified him to engage in mercantile employment, in such departments as might probably present themselves.
On quitting his brother-in-law, he repaired to Plymouth, and entered into an engagement with Mr. Andrew Kinsman, a wholesale grocer of that place, and superintended his business. With this gentleman, and another named Harvey, he continued from about 1795 until 1799. He then took a house in Frankfort Place, and commenced business as a grocer for himself. In the following year he married, since which time he has had eight children, of whom one son and one daughter only survive.
It is somewhat remarkable, that while he was engaged with Mr. Kinsman, the Dutton, in which he had returned from India some years before, was wrecked near Plymouth garrison, and sunk. The hull, lying under water, was purchased by Mr. Kinsman and a Mr. Andrew Snow; and as Mr. Scurry was an excellent swimmer, and perhaps at that time the best diver in England, he offered his services to assist them in endeavouring to rescue all that they could find from the wreck, which lay about three fathoms under water. After much hesitation, they consented that he should make a trial. A day was accordingly appointed, when, amidst numbers of spectators, he succeeded in hooking some pigs of ballast, and part of her timbers, thus at once gratifying their eager curiosity, and the anxious expectations of his employers. This attempt was made a few months after she sunk. Finding, however, after several ineffectual efforts, that nothing of considerable value was likely to be obtained, the remains were sold, about two years afterwards, to a Mr. Joseph, a rich Jew, for ten pounds. As soon as this transfer took place, Mr. Scurry received a polite note from the new purchaser, requesting him to try once more to rescue something from the sunken ship. With this request he complied; but on his descent, he found that the Dutton was now five fathoms beneath the surface of the water. In this attempt he succeeded in bringing up some of her copper sheathing, and some timber; but the former was so corroded, and the latter so much decayed, that no encouragement was held out to perseverance. Her guns were by this time sunk in the sand; and as nothing promised to reward their exertions, all further efforts were abandoned.
Mr. Scurry continued his business as a grocer on his own account, from 1799 until 1804, when, on an application being made by Messrs. Fuge and Langmead, spirit merchants, of Plymouth, to travel for their house, he surrendered the management of his own concerns to his wife, still taking orders for goods as he prosecuted his journeys. In this situation he continued from 1804 to 1812, when, on discovering some irregularities, he quitted their employment, and formed an engagement with a Mr. Slade, of Plymouth, under whom he went to Swansea to manage a colliery. Shortly afterwards, Mr. Slade having fitted out a privateer to cruise in the Bay of Biscay, and knowing Mr. Scurry to be both expert and enterprising in maritime affairs, he sent for him to go out as steward, and to keep a watchful eye over the concerns of the vessel. Accordingly, in the year 1813, he repaired again to Plymouth, and sailed in the Cerberus privateer, commanded by Captain Tregotheth. He continued in this vessel about four months, during which time they took one prize, for his share of which he received £18. Returning from their cruise, they put into Fowey, in Cornwall, where he received a letter from Mr. Slade, stating that his son, James Scurry, was then on the point of death, and having a particular desire to see his father, requested his immediate attendance for a day or two. In consequence of this letter, he hastened to Plymouth, where he arrived on the 12th of April, 1813; and his son died on the 24th. Scarcely had he left the vessel, before the captain, without receiving any orders, again put to sea, and, on the day after he left Fowey, the Cerberus was captured by a French privateer, and carried to France.
In 1814, he again went to Swansea, under Mr. Slade, and on their voyage from Ilfracombe to Wales the vessel was nearly lost. In the midst of their distress, the captain grew dispirited, and the panic was communicated to the passengers and the men. In this emergency, Mr. Scurry’s native energies were all called into action, and such was the confidence which his example and precepts inspired, that they were roused from their lethargy, and, by unremitting exertions, succeeded in reaching the port. Having, in the course of his journeys, discovered some clay of a very superior quality, he visited Worcester, London, and some other places, with a design to procure a market, but the supplies of clay being more abundant than the demand for porcelain, his efforts proved unsuccessful. Early in 1815, he again returned to Plymouth, and once more engaged himself with Messrs. Langmeads, Mr. Fuge being now no longer connected with the concern. Here he continued until the death of Mr. John Langmead, when, being in want of a situation, he repaired to London early in 1816, and engaged himself at a coal wharf, where he continued about three years.
Having obtained some knowledge of mining, he was several times sent into his native county by the adventurers, to inspect various works in which they had become speculators. During these journeys he was occasionally exposed to the inclemencies of winter, which in all probability sapped the foundation of a strong constitution, that had so long sustained the rigour of the torrid zone. In the autumn of 1822, being on a journey to Devonshire, to superintend a mine in the neighbourhood of Buckfastleigh, he took a severe cold, by which he was laid up at Exeter. This was followed by an inflammation, and this was succeeded by a mortification, of which he died, aged 57, at the house of his sister Dannan, whose husband being a port-gauger of that city, had removed thither some years before. He was buried at St. Thomas’s, near Exeter, December 14th, 1822.
In justice to the memory of Mr. Scurry, it ought to be stated, that for a considerable time prior to his death, his mind had received serious impressions, which his subsequent conduct proved to be both deep and lasting. This circumstance gives an additional weight to the truth of his narrative—a narrative that might be deemed incredible from the miseries which it records, were it not supported by strong internal evidence, and corroborated by numerous testimonies drawn from the same unhappy source. To the eye of cool and dispassionate reflection, the world presents a spectacle of devastation and horror. Innumerable miseries arise from physical causes, and the present disordered state of things; and these, unhappily, are at once augmented and eclipsed by national hostilities, and the contentions of ambition for empire in fields of blood.