Not content with the burning and sacking of Teignmouth, bands of the marauders made their way across the river to Shaldon and St Nicholas, and to villages up the river, which in each case they plundered and burned. Except for the communion plate and other sacred articles found in the churches (which the invaders thoroughly ransacked) there could have been, one would imagine, little of value to repay their search in the villages they visited. But from St Michael’s they undoubtedly carried off, amongst other things, the famous herrings made of gold, and presented as votive offerings centuries before by the fishermen of the parish. Not only was everything of value stolen from the churches, but the books were destroyed, the pulpits defaced, or pulled down and burned in bonfires, together with the wooden communion tables. Then, as has been recorded, “Upon the news of this villainous attempt and bold invasion, the militia of the county, horse and foot, immediately made a body, and marched after the invaders, showing a great deal of zeal and resolution.... The invaders having intelligence by their scouts of the posture of our forces, and that we were moving towards them, they immediately prepared to return to their ships....” But before doing this they took the precaution to send “seven or eight small pieces of cannon just by the shoar side to play on our horse in case we came too quick upon them.” The destruction wrought was estimated at no less than £11,000, a sum which in those days represented several times its present-day value. So serious, indeed, was the position of the poor fisherfolk of Teignmouth rendered, owing to De Tourville’s visit, that King William and Queen Mary themselves made an appeal to the country on their behalf. The Royal letter which was issued and read in upwards of ten thousand parish churches, and elsewhere throughout the country, had the result of so arousing the sympathies of those who listened to the recital of the Teignmouth folk’s sad plight, that the money to rebuild the place was soon forthcoming. In the name “French Street,” the landing of De Tourville’s force is commemorated. How long the town was a-building there appears to be no record; but it is certain that the new town much surpassed the old in convenience, size and healthiness. For many years, naturally enough, fear of the French was very prevalent, and as a protection a battery was formed on the shore at the end of the Den. Regarding the lasting effect upon the country at large of what, at so long a distance of time, may be looked upon by some as merely the destruction of a small fishing village, and not as an event of any great importance, Macaulay says: