performed pretty well. Then, seeing no remedy, they consulted what
to do next. They could carry no sail at first–no, not a knot; nor
do anything but run away afore it. The only thing they had to
think on was to keep her out at sea as far as they could, for fear
of a point of land called the Dead Man’s Head, which lies to the
eastward of Falmouth Haven; and then, if they could escape the
land, thought to run in for Plymouth next morning, so, if possible,
to save their lives.
“In this frighted condition they drove away at a prodigious rate,
having sometimes the bonnet of their foresail a little out, but the
yard lowered almost to the deck–sometimes the ship almost under
water, and sometimes above, keeping still in the offing, for fear
of the land, till they might see daylight. But when the day broke
they found they were to think no more of Plymouth, for they were
far enough beyond it; and the first land they made was Peverel
Point, being the southernmost land of the Isle of Purbeck, in
Dorsetshire, and a little to the westward of the Isle of Wight; so
that now they were in a terrible consternation, and driving still
at a prodigious rate. By seven o’clock they found themselves
broadside of the Isle of Wight.
“Here they consulted again what to do to save their lives. One of
the boys was for running her into the Downs; but the man objected
that, having no anchor or cable nor boat to go on shore with, and
the storm blowing off shore in the Downs, they should be inevitably
blown off and lost upon the unfortunate Goodwin–which, it seems,
the man had been on once before and narrowly escaped.
“Now came the last consultation for their lives. The other of the
boys said he had been in a certain creek in the Isle of Wight,
where, between the rocks, he knew there was room to run the ship
in, and at least to save their lives, and that he saw the place
just that moment; so he desired the man to let him have the helm,
and he would do his best and venture it. The man gave him the
helm, and he stood directly in among the rocks, the people standing
on the shore thinking they were mad, and that they would in a few
minutes be dashed in a thousand pieces.
“But when they came nearer, and the people found they steered as if
they knew the place, they made signals to them to direct them as
well as they could, and the young bold fellow run her into a small
cove, where she stuck fast, as it were, between the rocks on both
sides, there being but just room enough for the breadth of the
ship. The ship indeed, giving two or three knocks, staved and
sunk, but the man and the two youths jumped ashore and were safe;
and the lading, being tin, was afterwards secured.
“N.B.–The merchants very well rewarded the three sailors,
especially the lad that ran her into that place.”
Penzance is the farthest town of any note west, being 254 miles
from London, and within about ten miles of the promontory called
the Land’s End; so that this promontory is from London 264 miles,
or thereabouts. This town of Penzance is a place of good business,
well built and populous, has a good trade, and a great many ships
belonging to it, notwithstanding it is so remote. Here are also a
great many good families of gentlemen, though in this utmost angle
of the nation; and, which is yet more strange, the veins of lead,
tin, and copper ore are said to be seen even to the utmost extent
of land at low-water mark, and in the very sea–so rich, so
valuable, a treasure is contained in these parts of Great Britain,
though they are supposed to be so poor, because so very remote from
London, which is the centre of our wealth.
Between this town and St. Burien, a town midway between it and the
Land’s End, stands a circle of great stones, not unlike those at