History has been unkind to Jane Fermor Killigrew (1583-1648), daughter of Sir George Fermor and Mary Curson. Pirate? Prostitute? Affair? Divorce?
Jane Fermor, the daughter of Sir George Fermor and Mary Curson, was baptized on 28 October 1583, and married at the age of twelve on 08 October 1596 to Sir John Killigrew V of Arwenack, Cornwall, son of John Killigrew IV and Dorothy Monck.[1]
History has not been kind to Jane. According to a heavily embellished story reprinted here,
LADY JANE, the widow of Sir John Killigrew, sat in one of the windows of Arwenick house, looking out upon the troubled waters of Falmouth Harbour. A severe storm had prevailed for some days, and the Cornish coast was strewn with wrecks. The tempest had abated; the waves were subsiding, though they still beat heavily against the rocks. A light scud was driving over the sky, and a wild and gloomy aspect suffused all things. There was a sudden outcry amongst a group of men, retainers of the Killigrew family, which excited the attention of Lady Jane Killigrew. She was not left long in suspense as to the cause. In a few minutes two Dutch ships were seen coming into the harbour. They had evidently endured the beat of the storm, for they were both considerably disabled; and with the fragments of sail which they carried, they laboured heavily. At length, however, these vessels were brought round within the shelter of Pendennis; their anchors were cast in good anchoring-ground; and they were safe, or at least the crew thought so, in comparatively smooth water.
As was the custom in those days, the boat belonging to the Killigrew family, manned by the group of whom we have already spoken, went off as soon as the ships were anchored and boarded them. They then learnt that they were of the Hanse Towns, laden with valuable merchandise for Spain, and that this was in the charge of two Spanish factors. On the return of the boat’s crew, this was reported to Lady Killigrew; and she, being a very wicked and most resolute woman, at once proposed that they should return to the ships, and either rob them of their treasure, or exact from the merchants a large sum of money in compensation. The rude men, to whom wrecking and plundering was but too familiar, were delighted with the prospect of a rare prize; and above all, when Lady Killigrew declared that she would herself accompany them, they were wild with joy.
With great shouting, they gathered together as many men as the largest boat in the harbour would carry, and armed themselves with pikes, swords, and daggers. Lady Jane Killigrew, also armed, placed herself in the stem of the boat after the men had crowded into their places, and with a wild huzzah they left the shore, and were soon alongside of the vessel nearest to the shore. A number of the men immediately crowded up the side and on to the deck of this vessel, and at once seized upon the captain and the factor, threatening them with instant death if they dared to make any outcry. Lady Jane Killigrew was now lifted on to the deck of the vessel, and the boat immediately pushed off, and the remainder of the crew boarded the other ship.
The Dutch crew were overpowered by the numbers of Cornishmen, who were armed far more perfectly than they. Taken unawares as they were, at a moment when they thought their troubles were for a season at an end, the Dutchmen were almost powerless.
The Spaniards were brave men, and resisted the demands made to deliver up their treasure. This resistance was, however, fatal to them. At a signal, it is said by some, given by their leader, Lady Jane Killigrew, – although this was denied afterwards, – they were both murdered by the ruffians into whose hands they had fallen, and their bodies cast overboard into the sea.
These wretches ransacked the ships, and appropriated whatsoever they pleased, while Lady Jane took from them “two hogsheads of Spanish pieces of eight, and converted them to her own use.”
As one of the Spanish factors was dying, he lifted his hands to heaven, prayed to the Lord to receive his soul, and turning to the vile woman to whose villainy he owed his death, he said, “My blood will linger with you until my death is avenged upon your own sons.”
This dreadful deed was not allowed to pass without notice even in those lawless times. The Spaniards were then friendly with England, and upon the representation made by the Spanish minister to the existing government, the sheriff of Cornwall was ordered to seize and bring to trial Lady Jane Killigrew and her crew of murderers. A considerable number were arrested with her; and that lady and several of her men were tried at Launceston.
Since the Spaniards were proved to be at the time of the murder “foreigners under the Queen’s protection,” they were all found guilty, and condemned to death.
All the men were executed on the walls of Launceston Castle; but by the interest of Sir John Arundell and Sir Nicholas Hals, Queen Elizabeth was induced to grant a pardon for Lady Jane.[2]
In every instance of the various versions of this story, neither the date, the names of the ships, the names of those involved, nor other details are mentioned. These missing details are early indications that it is probably more myth than truth, and upon further investigation, the story is completely false and essentially based on Mary (Wolverston) Killigrew’s act of piracy in January 1583 before the death of Sir John Killigrew III in 1584.[3]
While the history books have maligned Jane for her “atrocious” piracy, nothing compares to the disparaging remarks from Martin Lister-Killigrew, heir of Sir John Killigrew’s estate.
But this worthy gentleman, ye last Sir John Killigrew, was hardly got over this difficulty, when he fell under a much greater Affliction, as aforementioned, the Prostitution of his Wife; who caused herself to be called, or unaccountably was known by ye name of, Lady Jane. Arrived to that shameful degree, Sir John, in point of honor and for quietness of mind, found himself under a necessity to prosecute a divorce from her in ye Archbishop’s Court, which lasted so many years and so very expensive, as quite Ruined his Estate, to ye degree of his being often put to very hard Shifts to get home from London upon ye frequent recesses of ye process, but at length obtained ye Divorce in all its formal Extent…[4]
But was there an affair, and was there a divorce? For the town of Penryn, the story continues for almost 400 years.
Excerpted from the upcoming book “Thomas Fermor and the Sons of Witney,” a 767-page historical account of the Fermor / Farmar / Farmer family from 1420 to 1685.
[1] Vivian, The Visitations of Cornwall, Comprising the Heralds’ Visitations of 1530, 1573, & 1620 (1887), pp.268-269. Sir John Killigrew V, son of Dorothy Monck and John Killigrew IV (d. 1605), son of Mary Wolverston and Sir John Killigrew III (d. 1584), son of Elizabeth Trewynard and John Killigrew II (d. 1567), son of Jane Petit and John Killigrew (d. 1536).
[2] Timbs et al, Abbeys, Castles, and Ancient Halls of England and Wales; South (1872), pp.529-531. For other variations, reference in addition to many other publications: 1) Davies, The Parochial History of Cornwall, vol.2 (1838), p.6; 2) Redding, An Illustrated Itinerary of the County of Cornwall (1842), p.134; 3) Salmon, Cornwall, ed.2 (1905); 4) Hitchins et al, The History of Cornwall, vol.2 (1824), p.291; & 4) Lysons et al, Magna Britannia, vol.3 (1814), p.120.
[3] Gay, Old Falmouth (1903), p.15. The attribution to Lady Jane may have begun with William Hals’ unpublished Compleat History of Cornwall, first started in 1685 and continued until 1736, until Hals died in 1737. The second part of his work was published in 1750 as Complete History of Cornwall, Part II being the Parochial History whereas the first part contained so many scandalous details that prevented its publication. However, Hals’ work did form the basis of Davies’ Parochial History of Cornwall together with additional efforts from Thomas Tonkins (Pearce, “Hals, William,” Dictionary of National Biography, vol.24 (1890), pp.123-124.) “There appears to be but little doubt that Hals was rather a scandalmonger, and also seems to have had some private grudge against the Killigrews, and in fact almost every other Cornish family, and the story has therefore been discredited by subsequent historians…” (Whitley, “Dame Killigrew and the Spanish Ship,” Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, vol.7 no.27 (1883), p.283.) For a reprint of Hals’ account, reference: 1) Whitley, “Dame Killigrew and the Spanish Ship,” Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, vol.7 no.27 (1883), pp.282-283; & 2) Baring-Gould, Cornish Characters and Strange Events (1909), pp.135-137.
[4] Worth, “The Family of Killigrew,” Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, vol.3 no.12 (April 1871), pp.272-273. Martin Lister (1666-1745) married Anne Killigrew, daughter of Frances Twysden and Sir Peter Killigrew (ca.1634-1705), the son of Mary Lucas and Sir Peter Killigrew (ca.1593-1668), the brother and heir of Sir John Killigrew (1583-1633), Jane’s ex-husband. Mary Lucas was the daughter of Elizabeth Leighton and Sir Thomas Lucas II, the son of Sir Thomas Lucas and Mary Fermor, the daughter of Maud Vaux and Sir John Fermor who were the parents of Sir George Fermor, father to Jane Fermor. As part of his wife’s inheritance, Martin adopted the Killigrew surname. His family memoir was written in 1737 by Edward Snoxell, acting secretary for Killigrew, with Killigrew’s contributions. (“Lecture on ‘Extinct Cornish Families,’” The Royal Cornwall Gazette, no.4510 (13 March 1890), p.6.