alias SIR WILLIAM COURTENAY, K.M.
This strange man was the son of William Tom, landlord of the “Joiners’ Arms,” S. Columb, and of his wife Charity Bray—”Cracked Charity” was the nickname she bore—who died in the County Lunatic Asylum, and it was from his mother that the subject of this memoir derived the bee that was in his bonnet.
John Nichols was born at S. Columb Major on November 10th, 1799, and he owed his name to a kinsman of his mother—his godfather, a well-to-do-farmer, who was unmarried.
At an early age John Nichols Tom showed a mischievous disposition. He was turned out of the dame’s school at which he had been placed for cutting off the whiskers of her favourite cat. At the next school where he was placed he exhibited the characteristic vanity that was a leading feature through life. He liked to be thought to know more than any of his fellow pupils. One day he propounded to them the question:—
“Who is Neptune? I bet none of you know.”
“Neptune,” replied one urchin, “is my father’s Newfoundland dog.”
“Then who is Venus?”
“She is mother’s spaniel bitch,” answered one of the boys.
John Nichols in a fury fell on both with his fists.
“No such thing. Neptune is a god, and Venus is a goddess.”
A general fray was the result, out of which our hero came mauled.
When it became time for him to strike out a course in life, he was placed in an attorney’s office, and he conducted himself there well.
A fire broke out on the premises of the elder Tom and consumed the house. This occasioned Mrs. Tom to sink into a condition of profound melancholy, and she rapidly became so wholly insane that she had to be confined in an asylum, where some years later she died, and then Mr. Tom married a schoolmistress who lived on the other side of the road. This did not please John Nichols, and he quitted the attorney’s office and was placed in the firm of Plumer and Turner, wine merchants and maltsters at Truro, as cellarman. After five years’ service the firm came to an end, and Tom then began to trade on his own account. He married Catherine, second daughter of a Mr. Philpot, of Truro, whose elder sister Julia was engaged to a Mr. Hugo. Tom moved into his father-in-law’s house, which was old and dilapidated, and rebuilt it as a commodious mansion, with spacious premises in its rear for the carrying on of the business of a maltster. But on a sudden a fire broke out in this newly-constructed malt-house, and speedily consumed all that had been built for his business. Folk naturally concluded that, as Tom had recently had some losses, he had set fire to his premises, that were insured for £3000, and they remembered that his father’s house had also been insured and been burnt down. But Tom demanded that a most searching inquiry should be made as to the cause of the fire, and the insurance company, satisfying itself that it was accidental, paid the sum without demur. With the money thus received he rebuilt his premises, and continued the business. Those who saw much of him were convinced that, as they termed it, “there was a screw loose somewhere.” He affected an unusual dress, and tried to induce his wife to assume a habit that would have caused her to be mobbed in the streets. He moreover became great as an orator, denouncing the Church, the aristocracy, and all organized governments. In a word, he was a Socialist of the day.
Two years later he made a considerable sum of money by a successful venture in malt at Liverpool. The result of the transaction may be gathered from the following letter which he wrote to his wife, and which was the last she ever received from him:—
“LİVERPOOL, May 3, 1832.
“MY DEAR WİFE,
“I merely wish to inform you that I have just discharged the vessel of the malt, which has given every satisfaction to the purchasers. The measurement has exceeded my expectations by twenty-four Winchesters. There are the malt sacks in the vessel, and also half a bushel of the bottom scrapings; this you will get screened immediately. I am well and in good spirits (thank God for it). As I shall write to you again in a day or two, my letter will be short. The letter you will receive by post shall contain all I have to say, and as it will be subsequent to this I need not prolong. I have paid the captain of the vessel all the freight.
“With the kindest regards to all,
“I remain, yours affectionately,
“JOHN NİCHOLS TOM.”
The letter was rational enough, but it was the last rational act he committed, as this also was the last time that he signed his name as above.
For some time his imagination had been influenced by stories that circulated relative to Lady Hester Stanhope, the “Queen of Lebanon,” of her wealth, her authority over Arabs and Druses, of her prophecies and expectations of the near coming of the Messiah to institute the millennium; and he felt convinced that he was predestined to be the forerunner or herald to announce the coming advent of Christ. He had read a translation of Lamartine’s Travels in the East, in which it was stated that, according to Eastern prophecy, the Messiah would ride into Jerusalem on a mare foaled ready saddled, and that Lady Hester had such a mare ready for the advent of the Prince of Peace. “Since destiny,” said Lady Hester to Lamartine, “has sent you hither—permit me to confide to you what I have hitherto concealed from so many of the profane. Come, and you shall see with your own eyes a prodigy of Nature, the destination of which is known only to myself and my immediate votaries. The prophets of the East have announced it centuries ago, and yourself shall be judge if a part of those prophecies have not been accomplished.” Lamartine goes on to say: “She opened a gate of the garden which led into a smaller inner court, where I perceived two magnificent Arab mares of the finest blood, and of the most symmetrical form. ‘Approach,’ said she to me, ‘and examine that bay mare: see if Nature hath not accomplished in her everything which is written about the mare that is to carry the Messiah—she was foaled ready saddled!’
“I saw, in fact, in this beautiful animal a freak of nature. The mare had, in the place of the shoulders, a cavity so broad and deep, and imitating so well the form of a Turkish saddle, that it might be said with truth that she was foaled ready saddled, and but for the want of stirrups she might have been mounted without experiencing the want of an artificial saddle.”
This account that John Tom had read of Lady Hester made the most profound impression on his mind, and inflated as he was with self-conceit and ambition, he conceived that he was called to take a place beside, if not before, Lady Hester, as a herald of Christ. Accordingly, having his pocket full of money from the sale of his malt, he started for Havre, and thence for Constantinople and Syria.
For what follows, till his reappearance in England in December of the same year, 1832, our sole authority is “Canterburiensis,” who wrote Tom’s life, but who does not tell us what were his authorities, and who certainly so embroidered some of the facts he relates, that in instances we feel uncertain whether they are facts or fables.
According to this authority he arrived at Beirout, at what date we are not informed, and he at once presented himself before the English consul, under the assumed name of Sir William Courtenay, Knight, and requested an escort to the Lebanon, where he desired to see Hester Stanhope, and acquaint her with the fact that he was the forerunner of the expected Messiah. The consul saw that the man was not wholly sane, and he was in a dilemma what to do with him; finally he concluded that it would not be unwise to send one mad head to the other, and see what would be the result. Accordingly he gave Sir William, as we must now call him, an escort and he departed for her Lebanon residence, at Dgioun.
“On arriving at the principal entrance, Sir William sent forward his dragoman to announce to the slave, who was standing at the door, that a person of consequence, on a mission of high import, requested an interview with Lady Hester Stanhope. Sir William and the dragoman were accordingly conducted into a narrow cell, deprived almost of all light, and almost destitute of furniture; here they were ordered to wait, until the pleasure of her ladyship should be known. After waiting full three hours in the most suffocating heat, the slave returned with a rather peremptory message, demanding, on the part of her ladyship, to know who and what the stranger was who had solicited an interview with her. Sir William wrote with his pencil, that he had travelled from the County of Cornwall to announce to the expectant faithful in the East the approaching advent of the Messiah, and that as her ladyship had established herself in the Holy Land for the direct purpose of awaiting that glorious event, which was so near at hand, he considered that he was acting in conformity with the high destiny that was awarded to him to communicate to her ladyship in person the arrival of the Millennium, that she might co-operate with him in spreading the glad tidings throughout the Holy Land, and acknowledge him as the harbinger of the great event.
“Fully satisfied that Lady Hester Stanhope would in a short time rush into his arms and hail him as the accredited messenger of Heaven, Sir William felt not the torrid heat, but stood in dignified complacency with himself, proudly awaiting the result of his message. In a very short time the slave returned, followed by several others, and it would be a difficult task to describe the astonishment and indignation of Sir William when he was informed that it was the decided opinion of her ladyship that he was an impostor, for that not one of the prophecies had been as yet fulfilled, which were to precede the coming of the Messiah, nor in any one of those prophecies was the slightest mention made of a messenger being appointed to announce His coming, and that accordingly the sooner he returned to his native country, the better it would be for him.”
In a word, Sir William was detected, without having been seen, as an impostor, and was ejected from the house as such.
We should greatly like to know how much of this is true. Not only are no dates given, but the name of the consul at Beirout is also withheld.
Nothing remained for Sir William Courtenay to do but to retire discomfited to England, and try there whether he would have better luck. He embarked in a ship of Beirout for Malta, and after a residence of about three weeks in that island, sailed for England and arrived safely in London. The first intimation that he was back, received in Cornwall, was that he had assumed the name and title of Sir William Percy Honeywood Courtenay, Knight of Malta, King of Jerusalem, and Prince of Abyssinia, and that he had presented himself before the electors of Canterbury to contest that borough, in December, 1832.
He had taken up his residence at the Rose Hotel, Canterbury, where his dignified manners, his rich dress, his professions that he was the rightful owner of the estates of the Earl of Devon, and that he intended to establish his claims to them, his assertion that he was not only Knight of Malta but also de jure King of Jerusalem, imposed on so many of the burgesses of Canterbury that he polled 375 votes; but was unsuccessful, as the opponent candidates, the Honourable R. Watson and Lord Fordwick gained respectively 832 and 802.
After his defeat Tom made a circuit through the towns and villages of Kent, declaiming against the poor laws, the revenue laws, and such other portions of the statutes of the realm as might be considered by the poor to be adverse to their interests. By his speeches he obtained great success, and a sort of periodical that he issued, entitled The Lion, was greedily bought and distributed. But it ran through eight numbers only. The full title was “The Lion. The British Lion will be free. Heaven is his throne and earth is his footstool. He spake and it was done, he commanded and it stood fast. Liberty, truth bears off the victory, independence.”
He then started for Devonshire, accompanied by a gentleman who so firmly believed in his pretensions that he defrayed his expenses to the amount of a thousand pounds. This man, Mr. George Denne, and a young surgeon named Robinson were completely duped by him. “My dearest George,” said the Knight of Malta to the former, “it may please Heaven to take me in a short time from this sphere of my sublunary greatness, to translate me to the beatitude of another world.”
“I hope not, Sir William,” said George Denne.
“But,” continued Sir William, “I shall carry with me the pleasing satisfaction of having provided in a truly princely manner for those who, whilst I was on earth, had the sense and sagacity to see into the nobility of my character, and to acknowledge me as Lord Viscount William Courtenay, of Powderham Castle, Knight of Malta, King of Jerusalem, Prince of Arabia, King of the Gypsies, and all the other honours and titles which by descent or creation belong to me. To you, therefore, George Denne, I bequeath the Hales’ estate, with the proviso that you erect a monument on the highest ground on that estate to the memory of me, the great Lord of Devon, the regenerator of the world, and one of the greatest benefactors whom the human race ever saw.”
In like manner he bequeathed to Mr. Robinson the whole of Powderham Castle and all its valuable paintings, together with one-half of the lands belonging to the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury Cathedral.
It will hardly be credited to what an extent he was run after at Canterbury. Professional men, such as physicians, surgeons, solicitors, also gentlemen of independent property and tradesmen of the first respectability, were his staunch supporters, and daily invited him to their table, and introduced him to the bosom of their families. The invitations which he received to dinners, teas, and suppers were so numerous that he was known to attend several parties in a few hours. Mothers with marriageable daughters hunted him in packs.
But—it was asked—why did not Sir William take possession of his extensive estates in Devon? It was to do this that he started, attended by his faithful squire, Mr. George Denne. On reaching Exmouth, Sir William despatched his squire to the authorities of the place to announce his arrival, and that as Lord of Devon and King of Jerusalem he would hold a levee at eight o’clock in the evening, at which he would be ready to receive them and lay before them his right and title to Powderham Castle and the estates belonging to it.
But when the hour of the levee arrived only one man appeared, and that was the steward of the Earl of Devon, who came very bluntly to inform him that should he venture to set foot within the private grounds of Powderham Castle he would be prosecuted for trespass.
Next day Sir William repaired to the newspaper office at Exmouth, and drew up an advertisement, purporting to be an announcement of the arrival of the rightful Earl of Devon for the purpose of taking possession of Powderham Castle, and a statement to the effect that he was now recalled to the metropolis to appear before the House of Lords to substantiate his claim. The editor laughed in his face, refused to insert what was handed over to him, and tore it to shreds.
Full of wrath, Sir William shook off the dust from his feet as a testimony against Exmouth, and departed for London, where he remained two or three days, and then returned to Canterbury.
There he speedily involved himself in difficulties by his exertions in favour of some smugglers. An action had taken place in July, 1833, between the revenue cutter Lively and the Admiral Hood, smuggler, near Goodwin Sands, and in the course of the flight of the latter vessel her crew were observed to throw overboard a great number of tubs, which on being picked up proved to contain spirits. The Admiral Hood was captured, but no contraband goods were found on board; and on the men being taken into custody, Tom presented himself as a witness before the magistrates, and swore most positively that he had seen the whole affair, and that no tubs had been thrown from the Admiral Hood; he further stated that he had observed those which had been picked up by the revenue officers floating about on the water many hours before the Admiral Hood came near the Goodwins. This was so diametrically opposed to the truth that a prosecution for perjury was resolved on, and he was indicted at the Maidstone Assizes on July 25th, 1833. It was then proved that Sir William, on the very day on which the action had taken place, Sunday, the 17th February, had been twenty-five miles distant at Boughton-under-Blean, near Canterbury, and at the very hour of the action had been at church there. A verdict of conviction followed, and Mr. Justice Park, the presiding judge, passed a sentence of imprisonment for three months, to be followed by seven years of transportation beyond the seas.
This having reached the ears of his relations in Cornwall, representations were made by them to the Home Secretary that he was insane, and he was transferred to a lunatic asylum at Barming Heath, where he remained for four years, but whence he still issued addresses to his adherents in Canterbury and interfered in the election of councillors. There he remained for five years, and then a determined effort was made by his father and friends, and by Sir Hussey Brian, to obtain his liberation, and Lord John Russell ordered his liberation. This was an electioneering manœuvre, and Lord John had some difficulty in justifying his conduct in the House when later taken to task for having set this madman free.
On quitting the asylum, Tom hoped to take up his residence with a Mr. G. Francis, with whom he had been on terms of intimacy before. But Mr. Francis was by this time disillusioned, and when the Knight of Malta presented himself before him armed with a new pair of pistols, he remonstrated with him, and ordered him to quit the house; when he went to a cottage hard by occupied by one Wills, who was completely the dupe of Tom, and a passionate agitator. Then he went to Bossenden Farm occupied by a person named Culver. He gave out that he was the true proprietor of many of the finest estates in Kent, but that he would not enter into possession for two years. In addition to his living upon and amongst the farmers, he induced many of them to give him large sums of money, promising that for every shilling lent he would return a pound; and that, when he was in full possession of his estates, all his followers should have land free from rent according to their deserts. These promises made many dupes, and enabled him to indulge in luxuries which excited the astonishment of those not acquainted with his resources, and made many believe that he was what he pretended to be—really a nobleman of large property. To keep up this notion he made presents to various individuals; thus, to a fellow who had been prosecuted by the Revenue, Courtenay gave two horses worth £40. He was fond of displaying himself in fantastic dresses; he allowed his hair and beard, that was coal-black, to grow long; and he taught his followers to roar his battle song, of which only a few verses can be given here:—
Hark! old England’s pris’ners’ groan—’Tis a deep and mournful tone—From oppression to be free,And enjoy true liberty.
Chorus.
Britons must be—will be free;Truth bears off the victory!
Lo! deliverance is at hand;Courtenay’s made a noble stand;He the tyrants has arous’d—He has freedom’s cause espous’d,
Britons must be, etc.
Courtenay’s cause is good, is just,Safely we in him may trust:Truth and virtue’s on his side,We will still in him confide.
Britons must be, etc.
Men and devils still may rage,Their united powers engage—Infidelity shall fall,Christ shall then be all in all.
Britons must be, etc.
Slav’ry’s chains shall then be broke,We shall soon cast off the yoke,Independence is our right,Victory soon shall crown the fight.
Britons must be, etc.
Corp’rate bodies then shall cease,They’re destruction to our peace;Party spirit shall no moreTyrannize with lawless pow’r.
Britons must be, etc.
Then, when victory’s palm is won,Glorious as the summer sun,Shall Lord Courtenay’s cause arise,Showing forth in cloudless skies.
Britons must be, etc.
Harrison Ainsworth, who has introduced Courtenay into his novel Rookwood, thus accurately describes him: “A magnificent coal-black beard decorated the chin of this worthy; but this was not all—his costume was in perfect keeping with his beard, and consisted of a very theatrical-looking suit, upon the breast of which was embroidered in gold wire the Maltese cross; while on his shoulders were thrown the ample folds of a cloak of Tyrian hue. To his side was girt a long and doughty sword, which he termed, in his knightly phrase, Excalibur; and upon his profuse hair rested a hat as broad in the brim as a Spanish sombrero. Exaggerated as this description may appear, we can assure our readers that it is not overdrawn.”
He now resumed his rambles round Kent, and visited the cottages wherever he went, giving himself out to be Jesus Christ come back on earth to sift the wheat from the chaff before setting up his millennial kingdom. He showed his hands and feet and side marked with red—but there must have been conscious fraud on his part, for after his death no such scars could be found. Many of the poor and ignorant believed in him and followed him. His head-quarters were for a while the house of one of his most devoted followers named Wills, but he presently left that and removed to a farmhouse at Boughton, where lived a farmer called Culver, who was also a believer. He infatuated the women even more than the men, for he was tall, dark, and handsome, and they took up his cause passionately, and urged their husbands and fathers to follow him, “because he was the very Christ, and unless they adhered to him fire would come down from Heaven and consume them.”
Instances occurred, and that by no means infrequently, in which he presented himself to be worshipped as God by the ignorant peasantry.
At length this excitement was destined to be brought to a conclusion.
On Monday, May 28th, 1838, Tom, with about fifteen followers, sallied forth from the village of Boughton without having any very distinct object in view, and proceeded to the cottage of Wills. Here they formed in column; and a loaf having been procured it was placed at the top of a pole, which bore a flag of blue and white, upon which a lion rampant was drawn. Wills having joined them, they marched to Goodrestone, near Faversham; and on the way Tom harangued the country people, who came out into the roads. From thence they went to a farm at Herne Hill, where they received food, and then on to Dargate Common. Here, by Tom’s orders, all prayed. After this they proceeded to Bossenden Farm, where they rested for the night in a barn.
At three o’clock on Tuesday morning they went to Sittingbourne, and there Tom provided them with breakfast, for which he paid twenty-seven shillings. Thence they marched to Newnham, where, at the George Inn, they received a similar treat. What they went marching for not one of these deluded men seemed to know, unless it were to gather recruits; and in this he was successful. Wherever he went—at Eastling, Throwley, Sildswick, Lees, and Selling—he delivered speeches, made promises, and obtained adherents. Then the whole party returned to Bossenden Farm. Here there was an extensive wood, in which the true Canterbury bell is found. The district is called the Blean, and here a condition of affairs existed that greatly helped on the cause of Tom. In the eighteenth century much of the Blean was taken possession of by a number of squatters, who settled on the ground, then extra-parochial, as a “free port,” from which none could dislodge them, and there they remained paying rent to none. Now the poor deluded peasants of the neighbourhood conceived the idea that Tom, or Courtenay, as he had called himself, was the promised Messiah who was come to give to them all lands to be their own, on which each man might sit under his own vine, and that the rich and large-landed proprietors would be cast out and consumed by the breath of his mouth.
During the tramp of these enthusiasts about the country, a farmer named Curling lost some of his labourers, who were enticed away from their work to follow with the rest. Curling at once mounted his horse and went to a magistrate, and procured from him a warrant for the apprehension of Courtenay alias Tom. Nicholas Meares, a constable, and his brother were entrusted to execute the warrant; and on Thursday morning, 31st May, about six o’clock, they hastened to Culver’s farm to secure the men. Upon their presenting themselves, Courtenay stood forward, and before Meares could read the warrant shot him dead. He then went into the house, exclaiming to those who were there, “Now am I not your Saviour?” and then issuing from the house again, he discharged a second pistol into the body of Meares, and proceeded to mutilate it barbarously with his sword.
The news of this murder was conveyed to the magistrates, and they proceeded to take steps for the apprehension of Courtenay. But the latter at once called out his men, and they marched into Bossenden Wood, and there profanely he imitated the Last Supper and administered to his dupes in bread and water. This over, a man named Alexander Foad knelt down in the presence of the rest and worshipped him as his Saviour, and demanded whether he were required to follow him in body, or whether he might be allowed to return to his home and follow him in spirit. Courtenay replied, “In the body”; whereupon Foad sprang to his feet, exclaiming, “Oh! be joyful, be joyful! the Saviour has accepted me. Now go on; I will follow till I drop.”
Another man, named Blanchard, also worshipped him, and Courtenay then said, in reference to the murder of Meares, “I was executing the justice of Heaven in consequence of the power that God has given me.”
At twelve o’clock Tom and his followers shifted their position to an osier-bed, and there he harangued them, informing them that he and all such as believed in him would be invulnerable. He defied the magistrates and all the power of the world: his was the Kingdom of Heaven; and then he advised his followers to take up a position in ambush in the wood. At this time Tom noticed that a Mr. Handley, of Herne Hill, was observing their actions, and Courtenay alias Tom fired at him; but he was beyond the range, and he happily missed his aim.
In the meantime the magistrates had taken steps to put an end to this fiasco. They had despatched a messenger to Canterbury to summon the military, and a detachment of a hundred men of the 45th Foot, under the command of Major Armstrong, was placed at their disposal, and marched to Boughton. As the party of Courtenay was in the wood, the magistrates and the soldiery and the constables marched thither. The wood is of very considerable extent, but was intersected by the main road from London and Chatham to Canterbury, which was cut across by another road, a parish road, at right angles. It was found that the insurgent party was so placed that their front and rear were covered by the roads right and left. The military were in consequence divided; and whilst one party of fifty took the road leading to Canterbury, under the command of Captain Reed, the other was conducted by Major Armstrong, assisted by Lieutenants Bennett and Prendergast, along the road that led to Boulton-under-Blean. Thus the insurgents were placed between two bodies of troops, and their only chance of escape was to retreat in a straight line through the wood. But Tom alias Courtenay had no intention of retiring, and he boldly faced Major Armstrong with the men behind him drawn up, armed with picks and reaping-hooks. He was summoned to surrender, but turned and bade his followers be of good cheer and prepare for conflict. These numbered from thirty to forty men. Courtenay gave the order to charge, and advanced on the soldiers, when Lieutenant Bennett drew his sword and, heading the military, ran forward, and was shot by Courtenay; the ball, entering his right side, passed completely through the body of the young officer, who reeled and fell dead on the spot. At this moment a constable named Millwood sprang forward and felled Tom, but as the madman rose to his feet again, he was struck by a ball from the military, for they had received orders to fire from Major Armstrong, who was on horseback. By the discharge eight men were killed on the spot and several were wounded; but the wretched peasantry fought desperately, till at last dispersed by the charge of the soldiers under Armstrong, and those under Captain Reed taking them in flank, when they scattered and fled through the wood.
In the course of the afternoon twenty-seven prisoners were taken, of whom seven were suffering from wounds, two of whom died shortly after.
Of the party employed in maintaining the law, George Catt, a constable, was shot under a mistaken apprehension that he was one of the rioters; and Lieutenant Prendergast received a contused wound on the head from the bludgeon of an insurgent.
During the remainder of the week the coroner was engaged in conducting the necessary inquiries into the cause of death of the deceased persons. Verdicts of “Wilful murder” were returned in the cases of the constable Meares, and of Lieutenant Bennett, against Courtenay and his adherents; whilst in the case of Catt, the jury found “That he had been killed upon an erroneous belief that he was a rioter.”
In the cases of death among the insurgents, the jury found a verdict of “Justifiable homicide.”
The coroner conducted the investigations at the Red Lion Inn, Boughton, where the yard was full of the wives, widows, and children of these deluded men; whilst the wounded lay on stretchers, as also the bodies of the slain, in a stable; the prisoners were in a lockup, whence they were brought handcuffed to the tavern to be examined. During the sitting of the jury, two of the wounded men died, and upon their decease being communicated to those outside, they gave vent to their feelings in loud wails. The body of Lieutenant Bennett lay in an upper chamber of the inn. He was but about twenty-five years of age, and had just obtained leave of absence when the news of the outbreak reached the barracks, whereupon he applied and obtained permission to join the party. At the conclusion of the proceedings before the coroner and the magistrates nineteen prisoners were committed for trial. Ten of the rioters had been killed. Out of the prisoners, Meares, a cousin of the murdered constable, Foad, and Couchworth were wounded. Foad was a respectable farmer, cultivating about sixty acres. A woman, Sarah Culver, was kinswoman of the farmer who had first sent to the magistrates. She was possessed of considerable property, and was forty years of age. She had been a devoted follower of Courtenay; but it may be presumed that she, like him, was insane.
On Tuesday, 5th June, the greater number of those who had been killed in the riot were interred in the churchyard of Herne Hill. Amongst these was Tom. Great crowds attended, amongst them his adherents, who were in expectation that he would rise again and confound his enemies. Some apprehensions were entertained lest the mob should use violence to prevent the burial of their late fanatical leader, but the whole affair passed off quietly.
At the Maidstone Assizes on Thursday, the 9th August, 1838, the trial of the prisoners commenced before Lord Denman.
Ten of the prisoners were found guilty of murder and were condemned to death, but were informed that the sentence would be commuted, and their lives be spared. The prosecutions in the cases of the other prisoners were not proceeded with, and they were discharged.
From the admissions of the prisoners, it was ascertained that Courtenay had promised his followers on the following Sunday to lead them to Canterbury, to set fire to the city and to have “a glorious but a bloody day.”
Tom had assured his adherents that death had no power over him; that even though he might seem to die he would rise again in a month, if a little water were applied to his lips. Accordingly, for a considerable time after he was buried, the ignorant people waited in lively expectation that he would reappear.
Of the prisoners, Meares and Wills were ordered to be transported for life; Price for ten years. The other seven were to undergo one year’s imprisonment with hard labour. A pension of £40 per annum was granted to the widow of Meares the constable.
Good comes out of evil, and one result of this lamentable affair was that attention was drawn to the abysmal ignorance of the peasantry of the Blean, and that schools were at once erected at Dunkirk, to introduce a better knowledge and sense into the heads of the rising generation.
A full account of the whole affair was published at Faversham directly after the event, of which this is the title: “An account of the desperate affray which took place in Blean Wood, near Boughton, Thursday, 31st May, 1838, between a party of agricultural labourers, headed by the self-styled Sir William Courtenay, and a detachment of the 45th Regiment of Foot, commanded by Major Elliott Armstrong, acting under the orders of the County Magistrates, together with the whole of the evidence taken before T. T. Delasaux, Esq., coroner, the Rev. Dr. Bow, N. J. Knatchbull, Esq., and W. C. Fairman, Esq., drawn from authentic documents. With an account of the funerals of the parties.”
There is another work, a copy of which is now in the British Museum, and is illustrated with a portrait of Tom, a plate representing the murder of Meares, soldiers entering Bossenden Wood; the scene of action, the “Red Lion,” where the bodies lay; the interior of the stable with six of the bodies; Sir William Courtenay as he appeared after the post-mortem examination, and portraits of Tyler and Price, two of the rioters. The title of the work is: “The Life and Extraordinary Adventures of Sir William Courtenay, Knight of Malta, alias John Nichols Tom, formerly spirit merchant and maltster of Truro in Cornwall, being a correct detail of all the incidents of his extraordinary life, from his infancy to the dreadful battle of Bossenden Wood … with facsimiles of that eccentric character, concluding with an accurate account of the trial of the rioters at the Maidstone Assizes. By Canterburiensis. Canterbury: published by James Hunt, and sold in London by T. Kelly, Paternoster Row, 1838.”
Passages from the Autobiography of a Man of Kent, edited by R. Fitzroy Stanley (i.e. Robert Coutars) 1866, may be consulted; also The Times for June, 1838.
