Although no one ventured to justify the violence, and especially the murders committed by Rogers, yet long within my remembrance a strong feeling of compassion was generally entertained for him. One of his sons lived to a very advanced age at Penzance, where he procured a scanty living as a saddler, merely employed, I believe, from kindness. In October 1812 I had a long conversation with this old man about his father; and the following are minutes made on the occasion: “On the 30th of October, 1812, I called on Mr. Henry Rogers, formerly a saddler at Penzance, but then residing there in great poverty, being supported by a small allowance from a club, and by half-a-crown a week given him by the corporation, nominally for yielding up the possession of a house, but in truth to prevent his becoming a common pauper. “Mr. Henry Rogers was then eighty-four years of age, and remembered the unfortunate transactions at Skewis perfectly well; he was between seven and eight years old at the time. He recollected going out with his father into the court after there had been some firing. His father had a gun in his hand, and inquired what they wanted. On this his father was fired at, and had a snuff-box and powder-horn broken in his pocket by a ball, whilst he stood on the other side. “He recollected that whilst he himself was in the bed, several balls came in through the window of the room, and after striking against the wall rolled about on the floor. “One brother and a sister, who were in the house, went out to inquire what was wanted of their father, and they were not permitted to return. “On the last night, no one remained in the house but his father, himself, and the servant-maid. In the middle of the night they all went out, and got some distance from the house. In crossing a field, however, they were met by two soldiers, who inquired their business, &c. The maid answered that they were looking for a cow, when they were permitted to proceed. The soldiers had their arms, and his father had his gun. The maid and himself were left at a farm-house in the neighbourhood, and Mr. Rogers proceeded on his way towards London. Mr. Henry Rogers said that he was born in Crowan, and he apprehended so were most of the children; that his father, although bred a pewterer, had for many years occupied land in that parish.” All these circumstances, after so long an interval, were related to me by the old man with tears in his eyes. It is curious to compare this account of the escape of one man, a woman, and a child, with the proclamation of the next day. On the 8th of January, 1816, I called at Skewis, and saw several holes in the partitions, made by shot of different sizes, when Mr. Henry Rogers resisted the law in 1735.