Commons as Member for the City of Exeter, at one time also filling the
post of Clerk to Parliament. After a long and valuable life, he died in
1859, the succession devolving upon his son, William Reginald, eleventh
Earl, whose name is still a household word in the land with which he and
his have so long been associated.
Marrying Lady Elizabeth Fortescue, a member of a house also closely and
honourably connected with the best traditions of the county, Lord Devon,
in all things which he undertook, exercised an influence indeed worthy
of his illustrious lineage.
Gifted with a great kindliness of disposition—he was never known to lose
his temper or to utter a harsh opinion of others—and a high sense of the
duties and responsibilities of his position, he spent his life in
earnest endeavours, and whether as President of the Local Government
Board in Lord Derby’s Ministry, or as Chairman of the St. Thomas’ Union
in the neighbourhood of his own beautiful home, his uniform punctuality
and assiduity was only exceeded by his unfailing courtesy and
amiability.
It has been said of “Devon’s noblest son,” as he was popularly styled,
with equal truth and felicity, that from the date of his accession to
the title till the day of his death, he identified himself with every
good work, whether in the County of Devon or the City of Exeter; those
which had as their aim the spread of religious teaching or the
advancement of the Church of England being specially near his heart. So
active was the part he played in all ecclesiastical matters, that on one
occasion, so it is currently reported, Dr. Temple, afterwards Archbishop
of Canterbury, declared: “Why, Lord Devon is almost a lay Bishop.”
Unfortunately, carried away, perhaps, by a desire to adequately perform
the obligations of his rank, Lord Devon’s expenditure largely exceeded
the income from his property. In the hopes that it would materially
conduce to the welfare of that part of Ireland in which his estates were
situated, he laid down, mainly at his own cost, a line of railway, the
heavy outlay on which and the paucity of returns added considerably to
the encumbrances which then burdened him. It should, however, be stated
that in the last few years this line, which cost its maker so dearly,
has been bought by an important Irish railway company for many thousands
of pounds.
The embarrassments which these ventures charged upon the property were,
moreover, in no way lightened by the successor to the title, Edward
Baldwin, twelfth Earl, whose expenditure as M.P. for East Devon and for
the City of Exeter, as well as his fondness for sport in many branches,
added costly burdens to an already overweighted exchequer.
And thus, by a proneness to follow the dictates of a benevolent heart or
the desire to indulge in magnificence consonant with ancient tradition,
without adequate consideration with regard to the means by which the
impulse was to be gratified, the glories of the Earldom of Devon have
been shorn of their just splendour, and the holders of the dignity
deprived of the due means of maintaining their hereditary station.
Edward Baldwin died in 1891, and was succeeded by his uncle, Henry Hugh,
thirteenth Earl and Rector of Powderham, who married Lady Anna Maria
Leslie, sister to the eleventh Earl of Rothes. By her, whose charity and
simple-minded goodness of heart made her universally beloved, he had two
sons—Henry Reginald, Lord Courtenay, who married Lady Evelyn Pepys,
youngest daughter of the first Earl of Cottenham, predeceasing his
father in 1898; and Hugh Leslie, who is still living. Lord Devon died in
February, 1904, at the ripe age of 93, having survived his beloved wife
by seven years.
_Ubi lapsus, quid feci?_ Surely, if worldly prosperity could be earned
by a blameless life and a just discharge of every duty, Henry Hugh,
thirteenth Earl of Devon, Rector of Powderham, and Prebendary of Exeter,
would have enjoyed wealth beyond the desires of man; surely, if the
highest place and the greatest honours could be gained by courage and
devotion, they would have adorned his noble son, Henry Reginald, Lord
Courtenay, who bore the suffering and faced the inevitable end of a
dread disease with an heroic courage which more than equalled the deeds
of his chivalrous ancestors.
It is to be deplored, in these days, when wealth has usurped to an undue
extent that place which used formerly to be the privilege of high birth
or great intellectual attainments, that the holders of an historic
dignity are deprived, even for a time, of a revenue commensurate with
their name and station; but as it was by the legal knowledge and
forensic skill of Charles Pepys, Earl of Cottenham, the Courtenays
regained their ancestral rank, so, perhaps, it is reserved for a noble
daughter of that same distinguished family, by her wise guidance, to
assist in reviving the glories of a House which she has graced with her
alliance and enriched with her many virtues.
Yet to those who saw the crowds, all sorts and conditions of men, which
thronged the little churchyard at Powderham when the last four
Courtenays were laid to rest, it was plainly evident that in their own
fair county of Devon, the land of the green hill and the flowing river,
the love which is felt for all who bear the Courtenay name is not
measured by the breadth of their acres or the length of their
purse-strings, but in the heart of everyone who knows this ancient house
and its kindly members, there exists a genuine and sincere wish that the
Royal Courtenays may ever flourish in all fulness of health, honour, and
prosperity.
H. M. IMBERT-TERRY, F.R.L.S.
[Illustration
_From a Drawing by F. Wilkinson._] [_Engraved by J. Mills, 1830._
DOORWAY OF KING JOHN’S TAVERN, EXETER.
]
OLD INNS AND TAVERNS OF EXETER.
BY THE LATE ROBERT DYMOND, F.S.A.
Whoe’er has travelled life’s dull round,
Where’er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think he still has found
The greatest comfort in an inn.
—_Shenstone._
In one of his oracular and sententious utterances, Dr. Johnson declared
that “there is nothing that has yet been contrived by man by which so
much happiness is produced, as by a good tavern or inn.” But, inasmuch
as Boswell tells us that this opinion was pronounced just after the
great doctor had “dined at an excellent inn,” we may fairly receive the
sentiment as the pair received their meal—with a grain of salt. It would
be foreign to the purpose of this paper to enlarge upon the benefits or
to denounce the evils connected with inns and taverns. It is enough to
know that they exercised on the domestic lives and habits of our
forefathers an influence sufficiently potent to establish their claim to
share the attention of historical writers with churches, and
monasteries, and castles. The Royalist tendencies of the citizens were
shown by the “King John Tavern,” in the Serge Market, at the head of
South Street; the “Plume of Feathers,” at the bottom of North Street;
the “Unicorn,” in the Butcher Row; the “King’s Head,” formerly in
Spiller’s Lane; and the “Crown and Sceptre,” in North Street.
The oldest of Exeter inns having anything like a connected history was
known for centuries by the inappropriate title of the “New Inn.” We may
enter it now without any suspicion of its antiquity. Of the ladies of
the present day who are so familiar with the house, which bears over its
alluring portal the name of “Green & Son,” probably not one in a hundred
suspects that her ancestors knew it equally well as the principal inn in
Exeter. The archives of the Corporation and of the Dean and Chapter, to
whom it jointly belonged, make frequent mention of the “New Inn,” the
earliest being a lease in 1456, by which the Master and Brethren of the
Magdalen Hospital granted to Roger Schordych and Joan, his wife, two
tenements opposite “le Newe Inne,” in the parish of St. Stephen. It
appears from Shillingford’s _Letters_ (p. 85), that the inn was then
“newly built,” and one of the frequent squabbles between the Cathedral
and the City authorities arose out of a “purpresture” or encroachment
said to have been made there by the Chapter. A few years later, as we
learn from Mr. Cotton’s _Gleanings_ (p. 11), an entry was made in the
accounts of the Receiver to the Chamber of 3_s._ 4_d._, disbursed for
“four gallons of wine sent to Lord Stafford at the Newynne.” From this
time it often occurs on successive renewals of the lease. In John
Hoker’s _Extracts from the Act Books of the Chamber_, we find that on
the 16th February, 1554, during the mayoralty of John Midwinter, that
body resolved to establish at the “New Inn” the cloth mart previously
kept at the “Eagle” from 1472—"The newe Inne to be bought of Christian,
the wydowe of Thomas Petefyn, and the same to be converted into a
commodious hall for all manner of clothe, Lynnen or wollyn, and for all
other m’chandises and w^{ch} shalbe called the m’chaunts hall." In
pursuance of this arrangement, Edward Clase and Elizabeth, his wife, who
had succeeded Thomas Peytevin, surrendered their lease to the Chamber in
1555. The Act Book also shows that Thomas Johnson was deprived of the
tenure of the “New Inn” on the 25th July, 1582, and was succeeded by
Valentine Tooker (or Tucker). This tenant had a misunderstanding with
the municipal authorities, in which he induced some of his mercantile
customers to take up his cause; for amongst the municipal records is a
letter addressed to the Chamber on the 20th of June, 1612, in which
Matthew Springham, Walter Clarke, John Pettye, and eighteen other London
merchants, intercede for Tooker, who had received notice to quit his
“nowe dwelling howse, the Newe Inn”; and they pray that in consideration
of his years and services “some stipend may be given him.” Shortly after
this, Valentine Tooker died, and in 1617 his sons, Thomas and Samuel,
state, in a letter to Ignatius Jurdaine, the Mayor, that their father
had recovered £43 13_s._ 4_d._ from the Chamber by a Decree in Chancery
for being compelled to leave the New Inn, of which he had been tenant
for many years, and they desired that it might be paid without putting
them to the charge of taking out the Decree under the Great Seal. They
thought it hard that their father should, without any just cause or
indemnity, be thrust out of doors, “after keeping the New Inn for more
than thirty years, behaving himself honestly, and paying his rent duly,
albeit two or three several times raysed and enhanced therein on the
promise afterwards to enjoy it for his life.” Notes are added in favour
of the petitioners by the brothers Richard and Symon Baskerville.
This Simon Baskerville, a near relative of the Mayor, was a man of note
and influence at this time. He was the son of Thomas Baskerville, an
Exeter apothecary, and was born in the city in 1573. He was successively
appointed physician to James I. and Charles I., from the latter of whom
he received the honour of knighthood. A mural tablet in St. Paul’s,
London, records that “Near this place lyeth the body of that worthy and
learned gentleman, Sir Simon Baskerville, Knight and Doctor in Physick,
who departed this life the fifth of July, 1641, aged 68 years.” The
transactions between the sons of Valentine Tooker and the Chamber appear
to have closed on the 3rd of April, 1618, when they acknowledged the
receipt from that body of £6 16_s._, “in full satisfaction, recompence
and payment, of and for the full and uttermoste value of all those
selynges, stayned or paynted, clothes, shelfes, and all other goods,
chattels,” etc., left by them in the “New Inn.”
After the year 1612, we find many references to the “New Inne Halle” or
Merchants’ Hall. This was let separately from the inn, and was used as
an Exchange, where the cloth merchants congregated, and where the three
great yearly cloth fairs drew together traffickers from all parts to
carry on the trade previously conducted at “le Egle,” opposite the
Guildhall. These merchants rented stalls or shops, which were also
distinct from the inn, and in 1640 they petitioned the Chamber to
prevent “foreigners,” by whom they meant non-residents, from buying and
selling to one another in the city. They suggested that “the hygher
roome of Sent Johns (Hospital) be ordenyd to be a store as a roome
annyxt unto the New In halle, to reseve all wols browght unto thys
cyttaye by foreners.” These restrictive and protectionist measures,
operating with the introduction of steam power, finally caused the great
woollen manufacture of the West to depart into districts where trade was
freer and coal was cheaper.
The “New Inn” extended as far back as Catherine Street, including what
was till lately Mr. Seller’s coach factory. Perhaps the sole relic of
the original structure is the well in the cellar under this part of the
old premises. When this well was opened, in May, 1872, its circular
wrought courses of red sandstone plainly testified to its antiquity. The
stabling was on the other side of Catherine Street, on a site still used
for that purpose, and belonging to the Duke of Bedford. A fire broke out
in these stables in 1723, and their great extent is shown by the
following advertisement in Andrew Brice’s _Postmaster, or Loyal
Mercury_: “Whereas there has been a Report industriously spread abroad
by certain malicious or designing persons, that all or most of the
Stables belonging to the New Inn, in the High Street, Exon, are burnt
down;—this is to certify that the said Report is vicious and false,
there being but one only Stable any way damaged by the said late Fire;
and that there are remaining near Three times as much Stable room as
belongs to any other Inn House in that City, with handsome Accommodation
for Coaches, &c., and above an Hundred Horses.”
The structure already referred to was the first edition of the “New Inn”
on that site. About the time of the Restoration of Monarchy the house
appears to have been re-built, and then was erected the great Apollo
Room, which still remains the chief ornament of the house. This splendid
apartment is 32½ feet long by 23½ feet wide, and before the floor was
raised by Messrs. Green to increase the height of the shop below, it was
17 feet high. The original contract for the construction of the rich and
elaborate ceiling appears to have been made with the Chamber by Richard
Over, who was to receive £50 “for his skill and labour in playstering
the fore chamber, or dining-room, in the New Inn, according to the form
and mould which he hath propounded and laid down in a scheme or map.”
But the work appears to have been begun in 1689 by Thomas Lane, a
plasterer, for five shillings a yard, and on the following 20th of March
he was paid by the Chamber £50 for this admirable work of art. It
displays the royal arms, with those of the See of Exeter, and of the
county families of Hillersdon, Calmady, Prestwood, Acland, and
Radcliffe. The name of this fine room may possibly have been borrowed
from the Apollo Club in London, near Temple Bar, a place of great resort
in the reign of James I. Its principal room was called the Oracle of
Apollo, the bust of the god being set above the door of the room, whilst
over the entrance to the house were some verses beginning:—
Welcome all who lead or follow
To the Oracle of Apollo.
Perhaps our county magistrates sought his inspiration when they met at
the “New Inn” for public business. Amongst the many illustrious visitors
who have been lodged there, none ever excited more curiosity than that
great potentate, Cosmo III., Grand Duke of Tuscany, who came with an
imposing retinue, on his way to London, in the spring of 1669. The Mayor
and Alderman waited on him in full state, and were received in a saloon
above stairs, perhaps the one that was afterwards converted into the
Apollo Room. His highness graciously desired the Mayor to be covered,
listened patiently to the inevitable speech or address, accepted the
gift of money (£20), which it was then customary to present to great
personages, but politely declined his worship’s invitation to a banquet.
The Grand Duke afterwards received Sir John Rolle and his two sons, John
and Denys, and on the next day returned the visit at their house in the
Close, formerly the town mansion of the Abbot of Buckfast, and now
occupied as a school by Mrs. Hellins. The fortunes of the “New Inn”
began to decline when the Cloth Fair was removed to St. John’s Hospital
in 1778, and its decay was probably hastened by the rivalry of the
“London Inn,” now the “Bude Haven Hotel.” In his _Grand Gazetteer_,
published a little before this time, Andrew Brice describes the “New
Inn” as “not undeserving mention, not only as having most or all the
Properties of an Inn super-excellent, but especially for one most
magnificent lofty and large room, called the Apollo; the Fellow of which
scarce any Inn in the Kingdom can truly boast. It’s the property of the
Chamber. Herein is kept the present Cloth Hall, and at Whitsuntide fairs
the whole Court and nearly every Room are filled with Clothiers and
their wares. It may casually be acceptable to some or other of the
worthy Fraternity to note also that the said Apollo is the only
constituted Lodge of Exeter Freemasons.” When the testy but clever
author of this description ended his long life in 1773, two hundred of
his brother Freemasons, members of several lodges, met in full costume
at the Apollo Room, and joined the funeral procession to St.
Bartholomew’s Yard, singing as they went a solemn Masonic elegy composed
for the occasion. It was probably not long after this event that the
premises ceased to be used as an inn; but the judges of assize continued
to be lodged there until about the year 1836, when they removed to
Northernhay Place. In a large upper room, in the rear of the “New Inn”
premises, the first popular Literary Society in Exeter held its meetings
from the year 1830. It was founded five years earlier in some rooms in
South Street, under the title of a Mechanics’ Institute. Soon after the
termination of its brief but useful existence, its place was supplied by
the still flourishing Exeter Literary Society.
Next, if not equal, in importance to the “New Inn” was the “Mermaid,”
whose yard is now worthily occupied by two huge blocks of Industrial
Dwellings. There was a great oaken staircase, with carven handrail and
ample landings, leading to the assembly and other large rooms, for the
quality folks, on the left of the entrance. Dr. Oliver, in a
contribution to a newspaper in 1833, mentions this assembly room as
having been used for balls within the memory of old people then living.
It was 56 feet long and 17 wide. Its arched and moulded ceiling was
enriched with gold and colour. On a carved stone in the centre of the
mantelpiece (30 inches wide by 25 high), and dated 1632, were impaled
the arms of the old Devonshire families of Shapleigh and Slanning.
Travellers and casual guests were lodged on the left side of the
entrance; and besides the spacious yard there was a large garden with a
summer-house, commanding a prospect of fields and distant hills. Here
the city merchants could look down upon their ships in the haven below,
as they smoked their pipes over cups of canary, and held converse
touching their foreign ventures. The “Mermaid” was a favourite sign with
our forefathers, who had a liking for strange fishes, especially for
those connected with fable or mystery. An old book tells how, once upon
a time, a long consultation on the choice of a sign ended in the
selection of the “Mermaid,” “because,” said the hostess, “she will sing
catches to the youths of the parish.” Not from the parish only, but from
every quarter of the county, did customers of high degree make their way
to the “Mermaid” of Exeter. They sang catches, if she did not. "What
things we have seen done at the ‘Mermaid!’" wrote Beaumont to Ben
Jonson. Those dashing brethren, Sir Peter and Sir Gawen Carew, with a
gallant company of knights and squires and justices of the quorum, rode
into its yard, in 1549, after conference with the misguided Catholic
insurgents at St. Mary’s Clyst, and there, after supper, words waxed
high over the terms of dealing with the rebels.
During the whole of the last century the “Mermaid” was a great
rendezvous for carriers; and Edward Iliffe, to whom it belonged in 1764,
was a partner with Thomas Parker, of the “New Inn,” and two others, in
one of those long vehicles, then called “machines,” advertised to carry
passengers from Exeter to London in two days. Iliffe had also “fly
waggons,” which performed the journey in four and a half days, setting
out from the “Mermaid” every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. It may be
doubted whether this promised speed was maintained, for, in the course
of some alterations of the covered entrance in 1825, discovery was made
of a board announcing under the date 1780, that “Iliffe’s Flying Van
leaves this yard every Monday morning for London, performing the journey
in six days.” Edward Iliffe sold the “Mermaid,” about the year 1810, to
Thomas Bury, a wool-stapler, who erected for himself a substantial brick
dwelling in the yard. Iliffe prospered in his business, and ended his
days at Exmouth, where he lived at Sacheverall Hall, with the title of
Esquire, and a mural tablet to his memory may yet be seen in Littleham
Church. In later times the yard became the site of a brewery, carried on
successively by Mr. Joseph Brutton and the father of the late Mr. John
Clench. All traces of its former state are now obliterated, and the
“Mermaid” no longer “sings catches to the youths of the parish.”