Adams, born about
1612, 'of mean and obscure parentage'--are not to be forgotten. He was,
says Mr Norway, 'one of those "Turkish captives" of whom so many were
languishing in Algiers two centuries ago, and who, there is little
doubt, were specially in the minds of the authors of the petition in our
Litany, "For all poor prisoners and captives" ... and it may very well
be that Adams' name was coupled with this prayer on many a Sunday in
Paignton Church, for the agony of his captivity lasted full five years.'
At the end of that time he and his companions, despairing of rescue, set
to work on what would indeed have seemed to most people a hopeless
venture. They began to make a boat with a keel twelve feet long, but
'because it was impossible to convey a piece that length out of the
city, but it must be seen and suspected, they cut it in two and fitted
it for joyning, just in the middle.' Then 'because boards would require
much hammering and that noise would be like to betray them, they bought
as much canvas as would cover their boat twice over.' With as much
'pitch, tar, and tallow, as would serve to make a kind of tarpauling
cloth, two pipe staves saw'd across ... for oars, a little bread and two
leather bottles full of fresh water, and as much canvas as would serve
for a sail,' their preparations before 'launching out into the deep'
were complete. But even their courage was not the most splendid in the
affair. When the prisoners had actually started, they found that the
boat was overloaded, so 'two were content to stay on shore.' They were
'content' to return to toil and slavery indefinitely, and to face the
bitter wrath and vengeance of their captors, enraged by the loss of so
many prisoners.

Those who escaped had much to endure. Their boat leaked, and the salt
water spoiled their bread. 'Pale famine stared them in the face' writes
Prince, and they suffered even greater tortures from thirst and heat.
'On the fifth day, as they lay hulling up and down, God sent them some
relief, viz., a tortois,' which they came upon asleep in the sea and
caught. With strength almost gone, they reached Majorca, where, luckily,
the Viceroy was kindly disposed towards them, and they started home in
one of 'the King of Spain's gallies.'

Adams died at a good old age in his native place.

The fine cliff called Berry Head runs far out into the sea at the
southern edge of Tor Bay, and standing back, within the bay, is the
small and pretty