BRIXHAM
BRIXHAM
We can gather from this writer a very vivid picture of the scene. The people came running out of their houses to welcome the Deliverer.... And then the Prince, with Marshal Schomberg, and many lords, knights, and gentlemen, marched through the narrow streets up the hillside, whilst those aboard the fleet in the Bay could watch the progress of the procession by means of the flags and banners waving above the house-tops; whilst cheers, music and huzzas floated down and across the water to the ships at anchor. Avivid touch which places before one like a picture the conflicting interests, sympathies, and forces of those troublous times is afforded by a description in which the Catholic as against the Protestant attitude is exemplified. The causes of the rejoicings at Protestant Brixham were construed quite differently by a priest in the house of Mr Carey (probably the owner or a relative of the owner of Cockington) near Torquay, for we are told “This priest going to recreate himself upon the leads, it being a delightsome day, as he was walking there, he happened to cast his eye upon the sea, and espying the fleet at a distance, withal being purblind in his eyes, as well as blinded by Satan in his mind, he presently concludes that ’twas the French navy come to land the sons of Belial which should cut off the children of God.” Naturally transported by joy and excitement he descended from his point of vantage to tell the occupants of the house, who, being Catholics, had doubtless been “parlously low in their spirits since the flight of the King; and now rejoiced greatly with him.” These unfortunate people seem to have celebrated the (as they supposed) happy event by merry-making, and also the singing of a Te Deum. But their joy was short lived, for ere sunset they learned that it was the fleet of William of Orange and not of Louis XIV they had seen.
By nightfall over fifteen thousand Dutch troops and mercenaries were safely landed, made up of some twenty-six regiments, and one of the most astonishing things in connexion with the coming of the Prince is the indifference with which the landing of such a large body of foreign troops was regarded by the inhabitants, who welcomed the soldiers as though feeling secure from injury, material or otherwise, and brought in supplies of food for the men, and fodder for the horses with alacrity. In a few days the gentry round about, who on William’s landing had held aloof for the moment to consult as to whom they should support, James the fugitiveor William the present, decided on the latter course, and the country was bloodlessly conquered.
Near the harbour where the Prince landed now stands a memorial statue of him, erected to celebrate the bi-centenary of the event.
Since that foggy morning in November, now more than two centuries ago, Brixham has been little disturbed by any events of historical importance. Twenty-five years after William’s landing, on the death of Queen Anne, a French warship suddenly appeared off the port and fired three guns. On board was the Stuart Duke of Ormonde, who had conceived the bold idea of effecting a landing there in support of the Old Pretender. The attempt failed, as no one came to his support, and the enterprising nobleman was forced (lest he should be captured by a vessel of the English fleet) to make a hasty departure for the French coast.
During the Napoleonic wars Brixham benefited in a measure from the victualling of the warships of the fleet which were frequently in the bay, and suffered, too, from the depredations of the pressgang; otherwise it must have been much the place that it is now, a quaint, straggling, narrow-streeted, picturesque fishing village, loved rather by artists than other folk.