CHAPTER XXII.
BRIGHTON CAMP AND THE TRAGEDIES OF GOLDSTONE BOTTOM.
The hills and the vales about Brighton, have more than a natural history in connexion with the animal and vegetable kingdoms, to give them a feature in the nation's chronicles. Not the least important events have been the Camps, lyrically handed to posterity by one of the most martial and spirit-stirring pieces extant, the "Brighton Camp, or, the Girl I left behind me," music that seems inherent to drums and fifes.
Although "Brighton Camp" is the familiar term used, it must be understood that there have been several Camps held here. The first was in 1793, and was formed on Tuesday, August 13th. The troops composing it the previous morning at three o'clock, struck their tents on Ashdown Forest, from which they marched at five, and reached Chailey Common at half-past eleven. There they pitched their tents for the night. On the Tuesday morning at four o'clock, they were again on the march, and at noon they arrived on the hills over Brighton. The baggage, part of the heavy artillery, and the corps of artificers, marched by way of Lewes; but the army in general, consisting of about 7,000 men, took their route over the South Downs. By two o'clock the Camp had formed in the presence of the Prince of Wales, who met them as they came over the hill. The left of the encampment was close to the town, in Belle-Vue Field,--now Regency square,--and stretched in a direct line along the coast. The encampment, which increased to 10,000 troops, was composed of regulars and militia, and was continued, on account of some apprehensions of an invasion by the New Republic of France, till the 28th of October.
As a matter of course, during the time of the encampment, there was a Sham Fight. Its plan was, an enemy attacking Brighton and the Camp. The enemy consisted of eight regiments of infantry, with their battalion guns, under General Sir William Howe; while four battalions of infantry, the light horse, and the mounted artillery, defended the country. Brighton was denominated Dunkirk, and was of course taken by the British. But one prisoner was captured, an officer of the East Middlesex, by his own Major, after a stout resistance, for the offence of sitting on a drum, during the inactivity that generally prevails for hours in the field. The officer was put under arrest, but the next day he was liberated.
The Camp of 1794, was formed early in the summer, about a mile and a half to the west of the town. It consisted at first, of 7,000 men; but when the harvest was got in, it was increased to nearly 15,000, as the militia regiments were not called out till the crops were cleared, the men then composing the militia corps being principally agricultural labourers. On the breaking up of this Camp many of the regiments remained in Barracks at Brighton. The Barracks then were in West Street, at the corner of Little Russel Street, afterwards the Custom House; in North Street, on property now known as the Unicorn Yard,--Windsor Street; and in Church Street, the present Infantry Barracks.
Nothing of any particular importance took place during this Camp. But that of the following year will ever be memorable in the history of Brighton, inasmuch as it is connected with the trial and execution of two men and the flogging of several others for mutiny. Not that the mutiny took place here, but Brighton was the military head quarters of the troops, hence the Court Martial was held in the town.
East Blatchington, near Newhaven, was the theatre of the disaffection, arising from the shortness and bad quality of the bread and flour supplied to the troops; in consequence of which, some men of the Oxford Militia broke into the mill in the vicinity of the barracks, and also, in a rebellious mood, emptied the contents of a vessel laden with corn, into the river, at Newhaven. The Court Martial was held at the Castle Tavern, which occupied the site whereon now stand the buildings which form the north-east corner of Castle Square. The trial occupied eight days; and ended in Edward Cooke,--termed Captain Cooke, from his taking the lead in the mutiny,--and Henry Parish being found guilty and sentenced to be shot. Six others were also convicted, but their sentence was only that they should be flogged. Much sympathy was shown by the inhabitants to the poor fellows, who were each day marched under a strong escort, from the guard house of the Battery, Artillery Place, to the Castle and back. Many of the residents in Russell Street, every night and morning took them provisions, which they were able to pass to them through the bars of their airing ground; and on the morning of the execution of the sentence upon them the wretched men were unable, from their emotion, to express their thanks for the kindness the people showed them.
From the hour of four in the morning of the day appointed for them to suffer, the whole lines of encampment were ordered to hold themselves in readiness; at five, however, in the evening, the officers were given to understand that the execution was countermanded for that day. The cause of this short respite was attributed to the absence of the Prince of Wales's 10th Regiment of Light Dragoons, afterwards the 10th Hussars, which did not march into Brighton till nine o'clock on the following morning, and of course could not pitch their tents till late in the evening. When this regiment was seen on the march to their station, all hopes of an expected reprieve seemed entirely to vanish. The most respectable people, however, of Brighton took this opportunity of one day's delay, to repeat their petition in favour of the two men; but all proved ineffectual, for early on the 13th June, 1795, the Oxford Militia--the regiment to which the mutineers belonged,--began their march from the Barracks at Blatchington to Brighton, to be made awful spectators of their unhappy comrades' punishment, and to be their executioners. At four o'clock the whole were ordered to accompany them from the ground to Goldstone Bottom, at which place they arrived about five. The six men--for there were thirteen mutineers,--that were sentenced to be flogged, proceeded afterwards in a covered waggon, guarded by a strong escort, which was composed of select men, picked from every regiment of the line. The two condemned to be shot followed in the rear in an open cart, attended by the Rev. Mr. Dring, and guarded by a second escort, under the command of Captain Leigh, of the 10th Regiment of Light Dragoons, and one of the Captains belonging to the Lancashire Fencibles. When they arrived, however, at the winding road which leads to Goldstone Bottom,--or Vale,--which is surrounded by an eminence, both the escorts were commanded to halt. The six men sentenced to be flogged were then taken from the covered waggon, and, having been marched through the entire line, which was under arms to receive them, they were brought back to a whipping-post, that was fixed in the centre of the different regiments. The drummers selected to flog them were men belonging to their own corps. To three of them were given three hundred lashes each. This was the number they then received, as, from their long durance, and consequent weakness, the surgeon pronounced that they could suffer no more. The fourth was then stripped, and, after being tied to the flogging-post, was reprieved, as were also his two other comrades.
This part of the distressing ceremony being gone through, the two unfortunate men condemned to be shot were taken from the cart and marched, as the others had been, up the line, with this difference only, of being conducted also through part of the outer line, which was composed of the Prince's Regiment, and the Lancashire and Cinque Port Fencibles. They were then marched to the front of the Oxfordshire Militia, where the coffins stood to receive their bodies, the Artillery being planted on the right, with lighted matches, in the rear of the Oxfordshire, to prevent any mutiny, if attempted, and the whole height commanded by two thousand cavalry.
Cooke and Parish being conducted to the fatal spot, exchanged a few words with the clergyman, and then kneeled, with the greatest composure and firmness, on their coffins; the first time, however, they kneeled, it was done the wrong way, but being placed in a proper situation they received their death from a delinquent platoon of twelve of their own regiment, at the distance only of six paces. One of them was not quite dead when he fell, and was therefore shot through the head with a pistol. This, however, was not the last awful ceremony the line had to experience; for, to conclude the dreadful tragedy, every regiment on the ground was ordered to file off past the bodies before they were suffered to be enclosed in their coffins. The whole scene was impressibly awful beyond any spectacle of the kind ever exhibited.
No disturbance whatever resulted from the melancholy affair; everything was conducted with the greatest solemnity and order: the awe and silence that reigned on the occasion infused a terror, mingled with an equal degree of pity, that was distressing beyond conception. The Oxfordshire Militia naturally experienced more afflicting sensations than any other regiment on the ground.
Cooke and Parish were both young men, and behaved with uncommon firmness and resignation; they marched through the lines with a steady step, and regarded their coffins with an undaunted eye.
On the morning of his execution Cooke wrote to his brother a letter, the original of which is in the possession of the author of this book. It is written in a free and bold style, very different to what might be expected from a man under sentence and at the point of an ignominious death. The following is a correct copy, _verbatim et literatim_, of the original:--
Brighton, 13th of June, 1795.
Dear Brother,--This comes with my kind Love to you, and I hope you be well. I am brought very low and weak by long confinement and been in great trouble. Dear Brother,--I am sentenced Death, and must Die on Saturday, the 13th of June; and I hope God Almighty will forgive me my Sins. I never was no body's foe but my own, and that was in Drinking and breaking the Sabbath, and that is a great Sin. I have prayed night and Day to the Almighty God to forgive me and take me to Heaven, and I hope my prayers be not in vain. I am going to die for what the Redgment done; I am not afraid to meet Death, for I have done no harm to no person, and that is a great comfort to me: there is a just God in heaven that knows I am going to suffer innocently. Dear Brother,--I should be very glad to see you before I Depart this Life. I hope God Almighty will be a Guardian over you and all my relations, and I hope we shall meet in heaven, where we shall be ever happy without End. So no more from the hand of your ever loving and Dying Brother,
EDWARD COOKE.
A print extant of the execution of these misguided men, is in the possession of Mr. Benjamin Kent, the landlord of the Good Intent Inn, Russell Street. It is thus inscribed:--
"The Awful Scene or Ceremony of the Two Soldiers belonging to the Oxfordshire Militia, which were shot on June 13th, 1795, in a Vale, while in Camp at Brighton, by a party of the Oxfordshire Militia which were very Active in the late riots, the men appeared very composed and resigned, the party which shot them were much affected, Infantry, and Artillery, were drawn up in lines on the occasion."
The engraving, which is about 18 inches by 15 inches, represents the men kneeling on their coffins, the figure signifying Cooke being in the attitude of prayer, with clasped hands and a firm countenance; while Parish, though with his hands clasped denoting his devotion, is dejected in his general position and has downcast looks. Three lines of four men each are at "present," the front rank kneeling, while at each side of the men to be executed is a man at "ready." The Rev. Mr. Dring, who is in his clerical robes, is departing from the scene towards the rising ground to the right, at the foot of which is an infantry regiment at "attention," with the 10th Regiment of Light Dragoons at then rear. On the crown of the hill are the civilians, male and female; in front of whom, to the right, are soldiers formed in a circle, within which, at a triangle, is a man undergoing the punishment of the lash, an officer, evidently the surgeon, superintending the proceedings. Immediately in the rear are the tents of the encampment.
Thirteen regiments were present at the execution, which for nearly fifty years was pointed out by the form of the coffins, the positions of the men firing, and other incidents of the scene, being cut out in the turf by the shepherd, whose innocent flocks browsed where so tragic an affair occurred. The plough has since obliterated all traces of the tragedy from the spot.
A singular instance of the effect of nervous excitement is connected with the execution. The Rev. Mr. Dring, the Chaplain of the regiment, who attended the culprits in their last moments, being a nervous man, and having a great horror of the duty which he had to perform, made a special request that after he had administered to them the last religious consolation, he should have sufficient time to get beyond the sound of the report of the fatal muskets before the order to fire was given. Promise of compliance with his request was made; but either from his tardy progress in leaving the spot, or a miscalculation of time, the word of command was given, and the firing took place while he yet was within hearing. The effect upon him was that he fell to the ground, and never after recovered the shock upon his nerves.
The bodies of the two mutineers were interred in Hove churchyard, contiguous to the centre of the old north boundary wall, where their remains continued undisturbed till the restoration of the Church, in 1834, when a saw-pit was dug at the actual spot, and a few of their bones were exhumed. The burying party was under Sergeant-Major Masters, who afterwards was a publican at Witney. The receipt for the burial fees on the interment of the bodies is still retained by his family. A few years since, Mr. Samuel Thorncroft, the Assistant-Overseer of Brighton, being at Witney, by chance called at Masters's house, when, the subject of the execution of the two men being introduced, the receipt referred to was shown him, and Masters stated that so infamously constructed were the coffins in which the corpses were put that, notwithstanding they were buried in their regimental attire, their blood oozed through the coffins and ran down the backs of their comrades who conveyed them to their grave.
The vicinity of Goldstone Bottom is memorable not only for these military executions, but, also, for the hanging and gibbeting of two men, James Rook and Edward Howell, on the 26th of April, 1793, just north of the Old Shoreham road, beyond Hove Drove. Their crime was robbing the mail, at that time conveyed between Brighton and Shoreham by a lad, named John Stephenson, on horseback. The robbery took place on the night of the 30th of October, 1792. What they took was of little value; and they used no violence. In a barn adjacent they broke open the letters and shared their trifling contents.
Their apprehension was effected by an old woman, named Phoebe Hassell, who happened, as was her frequent custom, to be taking some refreshment at the Red Lion public house, at Old Shoreham, kept at that time by a man named Penton, when Rook came in and ordered some beer. In the course of conversation with the persons present, the subject of the mail robbery came up, and from some observations made by Rook, Phoebe, in her own mind, was convinced that he was one of the party in the affair. She in consequence, went out and gave information of what had transpired to the parish constable, Bartholomew Roberts, who was well acquainted with Rook, then living with his mother in a small cottage close by, on the spot now occupied by Adur Lodge. On being taken into custody, Rook, whose age was about 24, a simple, inoffensive fellow, who had been the dupe of his companion in the crime, admitted the offence, and afforded such intelligence as led to the apprehension of Howell, at Old Shoreham mill, where, at the time, he was reading a pamplet to the miller. Howell was 40 years old, and by trade a tailor.
Some of the stolen property was found upon them; and their identification by the mail-boy being complete, they were committed from the Fountain Inn, for trial at the Spring Assizes, at Horsham, when, being found guilty, they were sentenced to be executed at the spot where the robbery had been effected. They were conveyed to Horsham on horseback, and for their safe custody, not only were they handcuffed, and pinioned with strong cords, but each had his legs roped together under the horse's belly, and, besides the constable that accompanied them, there was a military escort of four cavalry.
An immense concourse of spectators witnessed the execution of these unfortunate men, whose bodies, according to the barbarous custom of the times, were afterwards encased in an iron skeleton dress and gibbetted. The disgusting sight of their decaying bodies remained some time a terror to the timid, but a mark of recreation to the reckless and thoughtless, who were accustomed to throw at them and practise many revolting tricks.
Many relics of the event remain in the possession of inhabitants of Shoreham and Hove; Mr. Alderman Martin, in Brighton, has, at the present time, a tobacco stopper which was made from the bone of a finger of Rook.
When, however, the elements had caused the clothes and the flesh to decay, the aged mother of Rook, night after night, in all weathers,--and the more tempestuous the weather the more frequent the visits,--made a sacred pilgrimage to the lonely spot; and it was noticed that on her return she always brought something away in her apron. Upon being watched, it was discovered that the bones of the hanging men were the objects of her search, and as the wind and rain scattered them on the ground she collected the relics, and conveyed them to her home, and when the gibbets were stripped of their horrid burthen, in the dead silence of the night she interred them, deposited in a chest, in the hallowed ground of Old Shoreham Churchyard.
Besides being found guilty of robbing the mail, the Grand Jury, at the same Assizes, returned a "True Bill" against James Rook, for horse stealing; but he was not put upon his trial for that offence, in consequence of being left for death upon the other charge. The "Brief" for the prosecution in the horse stealing case, now "held" by the author of this book, runs thus:--
BRIEF for the Prosecutor.
THE KING agst. JAMES ROOK
On the Prosecution of JOHN BOYCE, For Horse Stealing.
INDICTMENT--STATES--That the Prisoner James Rook on the 31st of October 1792 at the Parish of New Shoreham in the County of Sussex feloniously did steal take drive and carry away a Brown Gelding the property of John Boyce the elder of New Shoreham aforesaid.
_Case_
In the Afternoon of the 30th of October 1792 about 3 o'Clock John Taylor the Servant of the Prosecutor turned his Master's Brown Horse and another Horse into a field a short distance above the Street at Shoreham and fastened the Gate
And the next Morning about 5 o'Clock he went to the Field in order to get the Horses up to Work when he found the Brown Horse missing.--On the Morning of the 1st of Novr. between 10 and 11 o'Clock the Prisoner was seen by Henry Strivens on the Prosecutor's Horse in company with one Edward Howell who came to water their horses at a Pond near a Barn at Perching belonging to Mr John Marchant about 3 or 4 Miles from Shoreham Strivens says he had seen the Horse before and knew him but did not know at the time who he belonged to--On the Evening of the said 1st of Novr. John Stephenson the Boy who Carries the Mail from Steyning to Brighthelmston was stopped and robbed of the mail in Goldstone Bottom near Brighthelmston by the prisoner and Howell at which time the Prisoner was on Prosecutor's Horse which the Boy knew, having several times seen the Prosecutor's Man with the Horse and having seen the same horse in the Prosecutor's Field at New Shoreham both before and since the robbery.
_Proofs_.
JOHN TAYLOR.
To prove that this witness (who is servant to the Prosecutor) about 3 o'Clock in the Afternoon of the 31st of Octr. 1792 had the Prosecutor's Brown Horse with another up to the Field--That the next Morning about 5 o'Clock he went to get the Horses up to work when he found the Brown Horse missing . . . Call . . .
HENRY STRIVENS.
To prove that between 10 and 11 o'Clock in the Morning of the 1st of Novr. 1792 as he was Threshing at a Barn at Perching about half a mile from the Hill and about 3 or 4 from Shoreham he saw two men the Prisoner and Howell come to a Pond to water their Horses within about forty yards of the Barn. That the Prisoner was upon a large Brown Gelding with a Sprig Tail and a large Miller's Pad upon it. That the next day he saw the Prisoner and Howell in custody on the Hill near Shoreham for robbing the mail and also saw the Horse on which the Prisoner Rode which he was informed belonged to the Prosecutor and was the one he had lost and which was the same the Prisoner was on when he and Howell came to Water their horses and to Prove that he has since seen the Horse at Prosecutor's at Shoreham . . . Call
JOHN STEPHENSON.
To prove that he was stopped and robbed of the Mail on the Evening of the first of Novr. 1792 by the Prisoner and another Man whom this Witness believes to be Howell at a place called Goldstone Bottom near Brighthelmston. That the Prisoner was on the Prosecutor's Horse which he knew by having several times before seen the Prosecutor's Man with the Horse and having seen the horse several times in the Prosecutor's Field at New Shoreham both before and since the Robbery.
Call the Postboy . . .
The Brief, from the trial not having been proceeded with, is not endorsed to any Counsel, but is marked "Brooker, Brighton," the original of the firm, Messrs. Brooker and Penfold, now Messrs. Penfold and Son, solicitors.
Phoebe Hassell, the person who was chiefly instrumental in bringing Rook and Howell to justice, was a very celebrated character. She was born at Stepney, London, in March, 1713, of respectable parents, named Smith. Of her early life little is known; but the first incident of her remarkable career, as related by herself to the compiler of this work, was her falling in love with Samuel Golding, a private in the regiment known as Kirke's Lambs. Phoebe Smith then was but fifteen years of age, being, as she used to remark, a fine lass for her years. Golding's regiment being ordered to the West Indies in 1728, such was Phoebe's attachment for him, that, donning the garb of a man, she enlisted into the 5th regiment of Foot, commanded by General Pearce, then under orders, also for the West Indies, and embarked after him. There she served for five years without discovering herself to any one. She was likewise at Monserrat, and would have been in the action there, but her regiment did not reach the island till after the battle was over. Soon after her return to England her regiment was ordered to join the forces under the Duke of Cumberland, on the continent, and she was present at the battle of Fontenoy, May 1st, 1745, when she received a bayonet wound in her arm. Golding's and her regiment were afterwards at Gibraltar, where he got wounded, and was then invalided home to Plymouth. Phoebe then informed the Lady of General Pearce of her sex and story, obtained her discharge, and was immediately sent to England. She went to the military hospital at Plymouth, with letters of recommendation from her late Colonel, and there nursed Golding; and when he came out of the hospital they were married, and lived happily together for more than 20 years. Golding had a pension from Chelsea.
After but a short widowhood, she married William Hassell, of whom little is known beyond what is recorded in the parish book of Brighton; extracts from which will show that in 1792 they were in poverty, as at a meeting of the Churchwardens and Overseers, held at the Castle Tavern, on the 5th of December that year, it was:--"Ordered that Phoebe, the wife of William Hassell, be paid three guineas to get their bed and netts, which they had pledged to pay Dr. Henderson for medicine."
Hassell died about this period, and Phoebe then, by the assistance of a few of the inhabitants, purchased a donkey, and travelled with fish and other commodities to the villages westward; and it was on one of these journeys that she obtained the capture of Rook and Howell for robbing the mail.
The following minute appears in the Vestry book:--
1797.--20th May, at a meeting of the Churchwardens and Overseers held at the Hen and Chickens, (now the Running Horse, King Street)--Ordered, that Phoebe Hassell's rent be paid from the present time, and that her weekly allowance be discontinued.
In the early part of the present century the infirmities of age began to tell upon her, and, being no longer able to get about the country, she was taken into Brighton Workhouse; from which, however, at her own request, she was discharged in August, 1806, as a minute of the vestry held on the 14th of that month states:--"That Phoebe Hassell be allowed a pair of stockings and one change on leaving the poor-house."
After this period she obtained a subsistence by selling fruit, bulls-eyes, pin-cushions, &c., at the bottom of the Marine Parade, near Old Steine Street, where, in sunny weather, she used to sit in a chair with her basket of wares beside her, and obtained a good amount of custom. Her costume would, at the present day, form a great attraction. She wore a brown serge dress, a white apron,--always clean,--a black cloth cloak with a hood, surmounted by a red spotted with white handkerchief. Her head-dress was a black antique shaped bonnet over a mob cap. Her shoes were for service and not look, without any regard to "rights and lefts;" and her hands and arms were usually encased in a pair of long woollen mittens. Her walking-stick, now in the possession of Mr. Edward Blaker, of Portslade, was a serviceable piece of oak.
Hone, in The Year Book, date, Sept. 22, 1821, says, "I saw this woman to-day in her bed, to which she is confined from having lost the use of her limbs. She has even now, old and withered as she is, a fine character of countenance, and I should judge, from her present appearance, must have had a fine though perhaps masculine style of head when young. I have seen many a woman, at the age of sixty or seventy look older than she does under the load of 106 years of human life. Her checks are round, and seem firm, though ploughed with many a small wrinkle. Her eyes, though the sight is gone, are large and well formed. As soon as it was announced that somebody had come to see her, she broke the silence of her solitary thoughts and spoke. She began in a complaining tone, as if the remains of a strong and restless spirit were impatient of the prison of a decaying and weak body. 'Other people die and I cannot,' she said. Upon exciting the recollection of her former days, her energy seemed roused, and she spoke with emphasis. Her voice was strong for an old person, and I could easily believe her when, upon being asked if her sex was not in danger of being discovered by her voice, she replied that she always had a strong and manly voice. She appeared to take a pride in having kept her secret, declaring that she told it to no man, woman, or child, during the time she was in the army; 'for you know, Sir, a drunken man and a child always tell the truth. But I told my secret to the ground. I dug a hole that would hold a gallon, and whispered it there.' While I was with her the flies annoyed her extremely: she drove them away with a fan, and said they seemed to smell her out as one that was going to the grave. She showed me a wound she had received in her elbow by a bayonet. She lamented the error of her former ways, but excused it by saying, 'when you are at Rome, you must do as Rome does.' When she could not distinctly hear what was said, she raised herself in the bed and thrust her head forward with impatient energy. She said, when the King, George IV,--saw her, he called her 'a jolly old fellow.' Though blind, she could discern a glimmering light, and I was told would frequently state the time of day by the effect of light."
Phoebe had nine children, but none of them attained any age except the eldest son, who was a sailor, but she had neither seen nor heard of him for many years prior to her decease.
On the 12th of August, 1814, at the festival which took place at the Royal Cricket Ground, to commemorate the peace on Napoleon Buonaparte retiring to Elba, Phoebe, as the "Oldest Inhabitant," sat on the left of the Vicar, the Rev. Robert Carr, and was an interesting object, then 99 years of age, and many presents in silver and one pound notes found their way to her from the opulent and enquiring part of the crowd. On the celebration of the Coronation of George IV., Phoebe, at the age of 107, and totally blind, took part in the ceremonies, and was present on the Level in a carriage with the Rev. B. Carr, (Vicar), and cheerfully joined in the National Anthem. This incident brought her into great notoriety; and several ladies being struck with her appearance, and pleased with the respectable character she bore, raised a subscription, each subscriber being presented with Phoebe's likeness, beneath which was inscribed, "An Industrious Woman living at Brighton, with very slender means of Support, which she can only earn by selling the contents of her basket, for whose assistance this Etching is sold."
For some few years previous to her decease, which took place on the 12th of December, 1821, she was allowed half-a-guinea a-week by the King. It is related that His Majesty offered her a guinea a-week, but she refused it, saying that half that sum was enough to maintain her.
Phoebe, in support of a good old Sussex custom, regularly, on St. Thomas's Day, 21st of December, went out "Gooding," visiting well-to-do parishioners, to gossip upon the past, over hot elderberry wine and plum cake, and to receive doles, either in money or materials, to furnish home comforts for the celebration of the festivities of Christmas. One of her places of call was the residence of Mr. Robert Ackerson, where the author of this book has many a time and oft heard the old female warrior tell of her deeds of arms. She made a prediction that the wife of Mr. Ackerson would live to a good old age; and so it came to pass, as, on Friday, the 2nd of February, 1855, she expired, being then in her 97th year. {181} On the St. Thomas's Day previous to her decease, not one of her pensioners, as she termed them, paid her a visit, they having all died off, gone as she said, after Old Phoebe, and she felt assured that she then should soon follow.
Mr. Hyam Lewis, father of Mr. Benjamin Lewis, silversmith and jeweller, Ship Street, erected the tombstone in the Old Churchyard, which marks the spot where the remains of Phoebe are deposited.