and so every Souldier was commanded by their Officers to carry
something or other besides his own Arms and Snap-sack, and this made
many murmur exceedingly. Sundry scores of Horses were thrown overboard
which died at Sea, so that by just Computation the Prince lost about
six hundred Horses at least by the Storm. As we marched here upon good
ground, the Souldiers would stumble and sometimes fall, because of a
dissiness in their Heads after they had been so long toss’d at Sea,
the very ground seem’d to rowl up and down for some days, according to
the manner of the Waves: Therefore, it is the Lords Goodness that our
Foes did not come upon us in this juncture and unfit Condition. The
whole Army marched all the same way, in a manner which made very ill
for the Rear Regiments, and cast them much behind. Many Country People
which met us did not know what to say or think, being afraid that we
should be served as the D. of Monmouth’s handful of Men were.
Notwithstanding, some were so courageous as to speak out and say,
truly their Hearts were for us, and went along with us, and pray’d for
the Prince of Orange; but they said the Irish would come and cut them
in pieces if it should be known. Some Souldiers asked them if they
would go with them against the Popists? and many answered they were
enough themselves, and wanted no more. His Highness, with Mareschal
Scomberg, Count Sohms, Count Nassau, Heer Benting, Heer Zulustein,
Earl of Shrewsbury, Earl of Macclesfield, Viscount Mordaunt, Lord
Wiltshire, and divers other Knights and Gentlemen, came in the Rear of
the middle Line; for as soon as we could conveniently, we were to
march in three Lines, and the Prince was commonly or always in the
middlemost Line, which was the meetest place. So he went unto a
certain Gentleman’s House, about two miles off, where the last Line
encamp’d the Second Night, and lodged there, his own Guards being with
him. The first day we marched some hours after Night in the Dark and
Rain; the lanes hereabout were very narrow, and not used to Wagons,
Carts or Coaches, and therefore extreme rough and stony, which
hindered us very much from making any speed. Divers of the Dutchmen
being unaccustomed to such bad ways and hard marching in the Dirt,
wished themselves back again in their own Country, and murmured
because of the Dark and Rain. At length we came to the Corn-stubble
Inclosures on the side of a Hill, where we encamp’d that Night. It was
a red clay, and it rain’d very hard the greatest part of the Night;
the Winds being high and stormy. Nevertheless, the poor Souldiers
being much wearied with the Tent-Polls, Spare Arms, and other Utensils
for War, which they had carried all Day and some hours after Night, as
well as with the badness of the March, lay down to take their Repose;
and verily the water run over and under some of their legs the major
part of the Night, and their Heads, Backs and Arms sunck deep into the
Clay, being so very wet and soft, notwithstanding they slept all Night
very sweetly, in their Pee or Campagne Coats. The Souldiers here
fetch’d some old Hedges and Gates to make their Officers and
themselves some Fire (as they had done the night before), else some
would have perished in the Cold, being all over in a Froth with Sweat
in marching. And the old Hedges and Gates not being enough, they
fetch’d away the new ones, for the Weather was not only raw and cold
but we ourselves were so too, having nothing to eat or drink after so
bad a day’s journey. The Souldiers had some good Holland’s Beef in
their Snap-sacks, which they brought, and their Officers were very
glad to get part with them, so they broil’d it at the Fire; some had
bought Chickens by the way, but raw, which they broil’d and eat as a
most delicate Dish. Sundry Captains offer’d any Mony for a Guide to
bring them to a House thereabout, where they might have some provision
for their money, but no Guide could be found; it was exceeding dark,
and being all Strangers and unacquainted with the Country, we could
not tell where to find one House, for those few that were scattering
here and there were either in some little grove of Trees, and so hid
from our Eyes, or else in a bottom amongst the Hills, and so could not
be seen. These Quarters did not content our Minds, for tho’ we got as
near to the Hedges as we could possible with our Fires, yet we could
not be warm. Many of the Souldiers slept with their feet in the Ditch,
and their Heads on the side thereof. We thought this Night almost as
long as that in the Storm at Sea; and judged it to be the dawn of Day
some hours before it was. The Morning appearing rejoiced our very
Hearts, for we thought now we should march presently; and we were sure
of this, that worse Quarters we could never meet with, but much better
we hoped to find. A private souldier, therefore, going in the next
Croft for to seek a convenient place, he found it to be an Inclosure
with Turnips, so bringing his Burden away with him, he came to the
Fire and gave those there some, telling his Comrades of the Place, who
soon hastened thereto, and brought enow with them: Some roasted them
and others eat them raw, and made a brave Banquet. The Souldiers were
busy in discharging their Musquets, after the Wet and Rain, for they
durst not trust to that Charge; and about 11 of the Clock the Army
received Orders to march.
The Prince of Orange with the Lords and Gentlemen, rode from this
place unto Sir William Courtenay’s, within a mile of Newton Abbot, the
first Line being about Newton, and the last on their march thither.
The Place where we encamped was trodden to Dirt, and stuck to our
Shoes wretchedly. Now the Regiments marched sundry Roads, of which we
were right glad, hoping to meet with better Quarters than the Marl and
Clay Crofts. The People came in flocks unto the Cross-ways to see the
Army, but especially the Prince. We met with much civility on the
Road; now they began to give us Applause, and pray for our Success;
sundry Persons enquired for the Declaration of his Highness.
Arrived near Newton, the Prince, as Whittle says, went to Ford House,
within a short distance of the town, the residence of Sir William
Courtenay, who endeavoured cautiously to abstain from doing anything to
compromise himself with the King, should the latter prevail, and so
managed not to be at home on the Prince’s arrival, but left directions
that he should be hospitably lodged and feasted. Here he probably stayed
two nights to enable the whole of the troops to come up and be in order
for the march to Exeter, to which place Dr. Burnet and Lord Mordaunt
with four troops of horse were sent on in advance.
The room at Ford House in which the Prince slept is still pointed out;
it is called the “Orange room,” and is papered and upholstered in
orange.
Mr. Blewitt, in the _Panorama of Torquay_, says:—“It is _said_ that his
first proclamation was read from the base of the ancient cross at Newton
by the Rev. John Reynell, the minister of Wolborough”; and Mr. White, in
his valuable _History of Torquay_, published in 1878, repeats this
statement as a fact. The stone pedestal on which formerly stood the
ancient cross, still remains near the tower at Newton, in the parish of
Wolborough, and is now surmounted by a public lamp. On this pedestal is
the following inscription:—
THE FIRST DECLARATION OF
WILLIAM III., PRINCE OF ORANGE,
THE GLORIOUS DEFENDER OF THE
LIBERTIES OF ENGLAND,
WAS READ ON THIS PEDESTAL BY
THE REV. JOHN REYNELL,
RECTOR OF THIS PARISH,
5TH NOVEMBER,
1688.
That the Prince’s declaration was read from the old cross there can be
little doubt, but that the inscription cannot be looked upon as much of
an authority is clear from the statement that the declaration was read
on the 5th; for the Prince’s army did not commence to land at Brixham
until that day, and could not have possibly reached Newton until the
7th; and that it is erroneous also in stating that it was read by
Reynell is evident from the following very interesting paragraph from
Whittle’s Diary:—
Now being on their march to Newton Abbot, a certain Divine went before
the Army; and finding that ’twas their Market-day, he went unto the
Cross, or Town Hall; where, pulling out the Declaration of the Prince
of Orange, with undaunted Resolution, he began, with a loud and
audible voice, to read as follows: William Henry, by the Grace of God,
Prince of Orange, &c., of the Reasons inducing him to appear in Arms
in the Kingdom of England, for preserving of the Protestant Religion,
and restoring the Laws and Liberties of England, Scotland, and
Ireland, &c.
When the people heard the Prince of Orange’s name mentioned, they
immediately crowded about him in a prodigious manner to hear him,
insomuch that some jeoparded their lives.
The Declaration being ended, he said, God bless and preserve the
Prince of Orange: To which the People, with one Heart and Voice,
answered Amen, Amen; and forthwith shouted for Joy, and made the Town
ring with their echoing Huzzas. The Minister, _nolens volens_, was
carried into a Chamber near the Place: the Windows were shut, the
doors lock’d and bolted, to prevent the crowd from rushing in.
The People of the House, and others very kindly asked him: Sir, What
will you be pleased to eat? or, What shall we provide for you? Name
what you love best, it shall be had. The Minister answered, What you
please, give me what you will. So they brought forth such as was
ready; and having eaten and drunk well, they desired him to spare them
but one Declaration. Yes, says he, for I have enow in my Pocket, and
pulling them out, he gave Three, because they were of distinct
Parishes. He told the People, he would go and visit their Minister,
and cause their Bells to ring, because the Prince of Orange was come
into the Parish, at Sir Will Courtney’s, tho’ not into the Town; and
(says he) this being the first Market-Town, I cannot but think it much
the more proper and expedient. Whereupon he went to the Minister’s
House, and enquiring for him he was courteously invited in, and
desired to sit down: The Reverend Minister of the Parish coming
presently to him, they saluted each other; and after some
communications passed between them, this Divine from the Army, desired
the Keys of his Church Doors, for to welcome the Prince of Orange into
England with a Peal (that being the first Market-Town they came to).
The Minister answered; Sir, for my own part, I am ready to serve his
Highness any way, but of my own accord cannot give the Keys; but you
know you may command them, or anything else in my House in the Name of
the Prince of Orange, and then I will readily grant it. So the Divine
said: Sir, I demand your Keys of the Church Door only for an hour to
give his Highness a Peal, and then I will return them safely unto you.
The Minister presently directed him to the Clerk’s house, and desired
him to come and take a Glass of Wine with him after the Peal was
ended, (but the Ringers coming together, they rung sundry Peals) and
he returned the Keys to the Minister.
The People of the Town were exceeding Joyful, and began to drink the
Prince of Orange’s Health. The Country People in the Town were well
inclined towards us; and here was the first favour we met with worth
mentioning. His Highness was most kindly receiv’d and entertain’d at
Sir Will Courtney’s, the Souldiers generally well treated by the
Vulgar.
Oldmixon, in his _History of the Reign of the Stuarts_, simply says that
“the first place the Prince of Orange’s Declaration was publicly read
was Newton Abbot, a market town near Exeter, and the first man who read
it was _a_ clergyman.” No doubt the fact that it was read by a clergyman
gradually changed into the statement that it was read by _the_ clergyman
of the parish, and so Reynell became credited with a bold act, which,
from Whittle’s account, he was far too cautious a man to commit, however
favourable he may have been to the Prince’s cause. The lettering of the
inscription is evidently modern, and the Rev. H. Tudor, the present
Rector of Wolborough, informs me that a man, now dead, told him he was
employed to cut or re-cut it, and was never paid for doing so.
The question remains, and it is an interesting one, who was the divine
who first proclaimed the Prince by reading the Declaration? I was first
inclined to believe, from the detailed manner in which the story was
told, that it was Whittle himself. It is not improbable, however, that
it was the renowned Dr. Burnet, afterwards Bishop Burnet. He was the
Prince’s own chaplain, and doubtless the head and chief of the clergy
who accompanied the Prince, and from his undaunted spirit, and the
leading part he took in the Cathedral at Exeter, he was undoubtedly the
divine most likely to have performed this act. One gentleman with whom I
have been in communication on the point, and whose opinion always
carries weight, says:—
Burnet was such a busybody, that I feel certain if anything was to be
done by a clergyman he would have put himself forward to do it.
No information is to be gleaned from the parish registers or the books I
have inspected relative to what occurred at Newton during the time of
the Prince’s visit, but I have been favoured with the following
interesting story from a lady now residing at Newton, of the advanced
age of ninety-six, told her by her father, who heard it from his
grandmother, who was a Miss Joan Bearne, the daughter of Mr. Bearne, a
lawyer of Newton Abbot; viz., that when a girl of sixteen, there was a
stranger staying at her father’s house for about three weeks, who was
only known as “the gentleman,” and who was out during the day, and only
returned in the evening; that on the entry of William of Orange into
Newton from Ford House, her father took her out to see him, and that
walking by the side of the Prince was the strange gentleman, who, on
passing where Mr. Bearne was standing, pointed him out as “his host for
three weeks” to the Prince, who at once lifted his hat to him.
[Illustration: leaf]
[This paper having been written in 1880, sundry allusions must be
interpreted in the light of that circumstance.—THE EDITOR.]
REYNOLDS’ BIRTHPLACE.
BY JAMES HINE, F.R.I.B.A.
Any interest attaching to Plympton belongs to the olden time. Of many
other places it may be said that the new has entirely supplanted the
old. Modern business requirements, new warehouses, and thoroughfares,
have had the effect of stamping out all vestiges of the past, and even
the traditions of them. An unpretending Railway Station and a dozen or
more new houses have not had this effect at Plympton. The town has no
novelties to shew us; the lions are just what they were two hundred
years ago.
Plympton in the olden time had its castle and its priory, its two
churches, and later its Guildhall and Grammar School. Not quite in the
olden time, but only just on the verge of our prosaic modern time,
Plympton gave to the world England’s greatest painter—a circumstance
which (though forgotten by the native, who on being asked by a tourist
where Sir Joshua Reynolds was born, replied he “never heeard of sich”)
should indeed make this honoured little town almost as famous as
Stratford-on-Avon.
In the Doomsday Book, Plympton is designated “Terra Regis,” so also are
Tavistock, Ashburton, and Tiverton, “all which places were then the
King’s demesne towns,” but not boroughs.
[Illustration
_From an Engraving_] [_by J. E. Wood._
THE CLOISTERS, PLYMPTON GRAMMAR SCHOOL.
]
[Illustration
_From an Engraving_] [_By J. E. Wood._
NORMAN DOORWAY, PLYMPTON PRIORY.
]
A date anterior to the Norman Conquest has been ascribed to the castle,
on the ground of its similarity to Trematon, Launceston, and Restormel
castles, which Borlase and Grose assert to have been built before the
year 900. The antiquaries, however, of the eighteenth century are often
extremely inaccurate in their classification both of military and
ecclesiastical structures. St. German’s Church, the ancient cathedral of
Cornwall, is designated Saxon by them, whereas its features, as any tyro
will now see, are undoubted Norman; in fact, there are no remains of
Saxon architecture in Cornwall, and it would be surprising if there
were, seeing that the Saxons never had any permanent hold on this part
of Britain; for, though Egbert is said to have reduced the Cornish
Britons to “nominal subjection” about the year 810, we find that
Athelstan as late as 936 was in conflict with the British forces, and
drove them across the Tamar, and not until that year had Exeter been
subjected to his government.
Restormel Castle is undoubtedly of Norman construction, and it is
probable that the most ancient portions of Launceston Castle are nearly
two centuries later than the date ascribed by Borlase.
Although, therefore, from the naturally strong position of all these
castles, it is probable that the Britons occupied these positions for
defence, no visible remains can be considered as anterior to the Norman
Conquest. In the absence of any architectural details at Plympton
Castle—the masonry in the walls being somewhat analogous to the British
masonry found in different parts of Cornwall—there may be more room for
doubt and conjecture here than in respect to the other castles; yet the
rudeness of the masonry may be accounted for by supposing that only the
vassal inhabitants of the neighbourhood were employed in the works,
under Norman architects and overseers.
The vestiges of Norman rule are clearly traceable in the county and
borders of Devon. The same independent character which Exeter maintained
against the Saxon authority, that city endeavoured to assert against the
Conqueror; and the obedience of the western capital required to be
insured by a number of castles, of a date not long subsequent to the
Conquest. The castles of Barnstaple, Exeter, Totnes, Plympton, and
Trematon guarded the rivers which gave access to the interior of the
county; and the fortresses of Okehampton, Launceston, Lydford, Berry,
and Tiverton, the inland passes. Of the castles enumerated here, Berry
at least has been entirely rebuilt at a later period.
Plympton Castle was the chief residence of the Earls of Devon and Lords
of Plympton. King Henry, the youngest son of the Conqueror, in the first
year of his reign, granted the Lordship to Richard de Redvers or Rivers
and his posterity, to enjoy also the title and possessions belonging to
the Devonshire Earldom. The said Richard was one of William the
Conqueror’s generals in the battle of Hastings, and obtained the barony
of Okehampton from William Rufus. He was one of the chief councillors of
Henry the First, and was so highly esteemed by him that he was created
first Earl of Devon since the Conquest. The castle stood on the north
side of the town, occupying a space of about two acres, extending 700
feet from east to west, including the ditch, and 400 feet from north to
south. Leland says of this structure, in his Itinerary, “On the side of
the town is a fair large castelle and dungeon in it, whereof the walls
yet stand, though the lodgings be clean decayed.” At present there only
remains a portion of the circular keep or tower, fifty feet in diameter,
on a mound about sixty feet high. The ruined walls average fourteen feet
in height and are nine feet thick, grouted with mortar or concrete as
hard as the stones themselves. Around the keep in the thickness of the
wall is a plastered flue, fifteen inches by ten inches, the purpose of
which is not obvious. It has been suggested that it was designed for the
conveyance of sound. It seems more probable that it was for ventilation.
There is a similar flue at Rochester Castle. The habitable portions of
Plympton Castle must have been of considerable extent. These, including
the state apartments, and lodgings (as Leland calls them) for the
military and retainers, were within the outer castle walls, and built
around a spacious basse-court. The ballium wall—embattled and flanked
with towers—was raised on a platform about 30 feet above the fosse or
ditch, in the position now indicated by a modern path, and by a belt of
trees planted about a hundred years ago. The basse-court has long been a
quiet village green, and the site of the ballium wall, where stern
warriors peered over frowning battlements, is now a “lovers’ walk.” Such
are the tendencies of modern civilization. Surrounding the castle wall
was a deep moat about 40 feet wide, still to be traced, except on the
eastern side, where it has been filled up. In Leland’s time it was full
of water, and stored with carp. There are no remains whatever of the
great gateway of the castle (with its drawbridge and portcullis), which,
as shewn by the seal of the Lords of Plympton, was on the north side.
There were probably towers at the different angles.
In the time of Baldwin de Rivers, second Earl of Devon and Lord of
Plympton, the castle was the scene of events which strikingly illustrate
the then unsettled state of the country, and the insubordination of even
the most privileged class. Baldwin de Rivers was considered one of the
richest and bravest men of the age; but having with some other nobles
rebelled against King Stephen, on account, it is said, of the king
refusing to confer certain honours on them, he fortified himself in his
castle at Exeter, where he was besieged by the monarch; and it appears
that certain knights, to whom he had entrusted his castle of Plympton,
being apprehensive of the Earl’s danger, or alarmed about their own
safety, treated for the surrender of Plympton; and the king sent two
hundred men with a large body of archers from Exeter to Plympton, who
unexpectedly appeared under the walls of the castle about daybreak, and,
according to the chronicler, the fortress was then almost entirely
destroyed.
The lands of the Earl, which extended far and wide round Plympton
Castle, and said to have been abundantly stocked and well cultivated,
were harried by the king’s troops, who drove off to Exeter many
thousands of sheep and oxen.[6] Baldwin was then dispossessed of all his
honours, and banished the kingdom; but afterwards siding with the
Empress Matilda, in the civil wars which ensued, he was restored to all
his honours and possessions by Henry II. He died A.D. 1155, and was
succeeded by his son, Richard de Redvers.
-----
Footnote 6:
Devonshire wool was already a valuable commodity, and was bought at
that time, it is said, by Flemish merchants who frequented Devonshire
ports.
-----
Baldwin, the eighth Earl, was the last of the male Redvers or Rivers who
held the barony of Plympton. His death, by poison, occurred in France in
1262, and the inheritance of the Earls of Devon and Lords of Plympton
descended to Isabella de Redvers, the wife of the Earl of Albemarle, who
styled herself Countess of Devon. Their only issue was a daughter,
Aveline, who married the Earl of Lancaster, and she dying in 1293,
without issue, Hugh Lord Courtenay, next heir to Isabella, Countess of
Devon, and lineally descended from John Courtenay, Lord of Okehampton,
who married the daughter of Sir William de Redvers, became ninth Earl.
The possession by the Courtenays during succeeding centuries of the
Earldom of Devon and the Barony of Plympton, was marked by many
interesting and even tragical incidents, but these have no very
immediate connection with the subject of this paper.[7]
-----
Footnote 7:
One remarkable circumstance—mentioned by Pole—concerning Henry
Courtenay, created Earl in 1525, may be noted. “This Henry,” says
Pole, “was soe intimate unto King Henry the 8th, that having no issue
he intended to have made hym his successor unto the crown; but
afterwards he fell into high displeasure of the King, so, as being
questioned with divers others for ayding of Cardinale Poole, and
intencion for the raising of forces on the Pope’s behalf, he was
arraigned, convicted, and executed for treason.”
-----
The barony of Plympton was subdivided in the reign of Queen Mary. In the
beginning of the eighteenth century it was in the hands of three
families. It is now invested in the Earl of Morley.
The castle (probably rebuilt after its partial demolition in the time of
Baldwin de Rivers, second Earl) does not appear to have been much
molested between the reigns of Stephen and Charles I.; at least, we have
no record of any memorable event during that long interval.
At the beginning of the Civil War, Plympton was the headquarters of the
force which the Royalists then had in the county. It was one of the
principal quarters of Prince Maurice’s army whilst besieging Plymouth,
from October, 1642, to January, 1643. The King had a garrison here,
which, however, was taken by the Earl of Essex, in the month of July,
1644. The castle at this period was mounted with eight pieces of
ordnance.
The fertile valley of the Plym was often a tempting field for plunder to
the Plymouth parliamentary troops, as it had been to the archers of King
Stephen five centuries before. Its rich pasturage and produce induced a
fraternity of pious monks at a very early period to settle here; which
brings me to speak of the once famous priory of Plympton, the richest
and most flourishing in Devon.
The first monastery or college existing here is said to have been
founded by one of the Saxon kings, possibly Ethelwolf, who had a palace,
so tradition informs us, at Yealmpton, about four miles distant. This
establishment, however, early came to grief. Leland says:—
The glory of this towne (Plymptoun Marie) stoode by the priorie of
blake chanons, there buildid and richely endowid with landes.
The original beginning of this priorie was after this fascion: one
William Warwist, bisshop of Excester, displeased with the chanons or
prebendaries of a fre chapelle of the fundation of the Saxon kinges,
because they wold not leve theyr concubines, found meanes to dissolve
their college, wherein was a deane or provost, and four prebendaries,
with other ministers.
The prebende of Plympton self was the title of one, and the prebend of
S. Peter and Paule at Sultown, now caullid Plymmouth, another. Bisshop
Warwist, to recompence the prebendaries of Plympton, erectid a college
of as many as wer ther at Bosenham in Southsax, and annexid the gift
of them to his successors, bisshops of Excester. Then he set up at
Plympton a priorie of canons regular, and after was ther buried in the
chapitre house.
Diverse noble men gave after landes to this priorie, emong whom was
Walterus de Valletorta, lord of Tremerton, in Cornewal, and, as sum
say, of Totnes, who gave onto Plymtown priorie the isle of S. Nicholas
cum cuniculis, conteyning a two acres of ground, or more, and lying at
the mouthes of Tamar and Plym ryvers.
There were buryed sum of Courteneis and diverse other gentilmen in the
chirch of the priorie of Plymtoun.