erally respected and regretted. He emigrated from Wandsworth, in Surrey, England, 40 years ago, after serving as a seaman on the Minotaur, and was at the battle of the Nile.

Beside his crutch I’ve heard the old man tell

His battle scenes, how shipmates fought and fell.

Before his blazing hearth, his faggot’s pile

He’d live in days with Nelson on the Nile.

He lived, though se‘aman scenes by years were gone

A Sailor still, in marrow and in bone.

But now the old man tells his tales no more

Of tars at sea, or comrades at the Nore.

His long trod threshold here has lost its tread;

As if he never was, he’s with the dead.

Francis Pillman’s tombstone still stands in St. Thomas’ Cemetery.

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