The stone itself was built into a small granite column erected to commemorate the landing of the two Princes, and was set up in the fish market; but in consequence of its inconvenient situation it was taken down and subsequently erected on the Victoria Pier.
Blewitt remarks that the landing of the Prince on the shoulders of the little fisherman was a very different kind of landing to that which Northcote has assigned to William in his celebrated picture. An old Dutch print, at present in my possession, purporting to be a delineation of the landing, represents on the land a large and imposing castle, into which the troops as they land are triumphantly marching, the Prince’s flag flying from the summit.
To return to Whittle’s narrative, we find him giving the following account of the proceedings subsequent to the landing:—
As soon as the Prince had viewed well the Ground upon the top of the Hill, and found the most commodious place for all his Army to encamp, he then gave Orders for everything, and so returned down the Hill unto the Fishermen’s little Houses: One of which he made his Palace at that time, instead of those at Loo, Honsterdyke, and the Hague. The Horse Guards and some Foot were round about him at other Houses, and a strong Guard but a little below the House wherein his Highness was. All the Lords were quartered up and down at these Fishermen’s Houses, whereof these poor Men were glad. Now the camp began to be filled with Officers and Souldiers; for no Officer must move from his Company or Post. The Foot Guards belonging to the Prince of Orange did encamp within an enclosure of plowed Land, about which there was a natural Fence, good Hedges and little Stone Walls, so that no Horse could touch them; Count Solms being their Colonel or Commander. Count Nassau’s Regiment encamp’d in another Craft or Inclosure joyning to that of the Guards, having the like Fence about it as before. The Regiment belonging unto Colonel Fagell encamp’d in a Craft or Inclosure next to that of Count Nassau, and so all the English, Dutch, French, and Scots encamp’d according to the aforesaid manner. The Souldiers were marching into the Camp all hours in the Night; and if any straggled from their Companies, it was no easy matter to find them in the dark amongst so many thousands; so that continually some or other were lost and enquiring after their Regiments.
It was a cold, frosty night, and the stars twinkl’d exceedingly; besides, the Ground was very wet after so much Rain and ill Weather; the Souldiers were to stand to their Arms the whole Night, at least to be all in a readiness if anything should happen, or the enemy make an Assault; and therefore sundry Souldiers were to fetch some old Hedges and cut down green Wood to burn therewith, to make some Fire. Now one Regiment beginning all the rest soon followed their Example. Those that had Provision in their Snap-sacks (as most of the Souldiers had) did broil it at the Fire, and others went into the villages thereabouts to buy some fresh Provisions for their Officers, being we were newly come from Sea; but alas! here was little Provision to be gotten. There was a little Ale house amongst the Fishermen’s Houses which was so extremely throngd and crowded that a Man could not thrust in his Head, not get Bread or Ale for Mony. It was a happy time for the Landlord, who strutted about as if indeed he had been a Lord himself, because he was honoured with Lords’ Company.
The little “ale-house” was probably the Buller’s Arms, which is still in existence. Report says that the Prince himself slept there, though this is doubtful, and that he left behind him there, or where he slept, a ring, which fell into the possession of the landlord, and was preserved with great care by subsequent possessors, eventually coming into the possession of one Mary Churchward, who died somewhere about twenty years ago, from whom the ring was stolen some years before her death by a thief who entered her bedroom at night and carried it off owing to the lady being in the habit of sleeping with her window open. Persons now in Brixham remember the lady bitterly lamenting the loss of the ring on account of its having belonged to the Prince of Orange.
Whittle continues:—
On the morrow after we landed, when all the Souldiers were encamp’d, the Prince with sundry Noblemen rode and viewed each Regiment, and then return’d to Dinner at this little House. The number of his Highness’s Regiments landed here at this Bay was about six and twenty, the number of Officers about one thousand, the number of Field Officers about seventy-eight. The number of all his Forces and Souldiers about fifteen thousand four hundred and odd men. You might have seen several hundred Fires all at once in this Encampment, which must needs signify to the Country round about that we were landed. The Prince here was pleased to accept of Peoples Good-Will for the Deed, because things were not here to be bought for Mony, no Market-Town being near. Many People from all the adjacent places came flocking to see the Prince of Orange. The Horses were landed with all the speed that might be, and truly were much out of order, and sorely bruised, not able to find their Legs for some days: Everything that was of present use was posted to shoar, but the Artillery, Magazine, and all sorts of Baggage and cumbersome things were left on Shipboard, and order’d to meet us at Exeter.
Whittles reference to the fact that many people from the adjacent places came flocking to see the Prince is confirmed by other writers.
Local tradition in my own family, handed down from parent to child with no little pride, says that among those who flocked to see the Prince from here were two Windeatts, Samuel and Thomas—father and son, and a lady whose great niece subsequently intermarried with the Windeatts. At the time of the Prince’s landing, Samuel Windeatt, a man about forty, and a strict Nonconformist, was living in Bridgetown, where the family had been settled for some years. Hearing the joyful news that the Protestant Prince of Orange was in Torbay, he immediately set off to “Broxholme” on horseback, taking his little son Thomas, then about eight years old, in front of him, to see the Deliverer of England and his troops. They narrated the fact on their return that the country people around brought quantities of apples and rolled them down the hill to the soldiers; and the truth of this incident was curiously confirmed some years since. A member of my family having mentioned this to a gentleman who in his early days farmed in this part of the country, he gave me the following interesting account of the stories handed down to him:—