BARUM
To Barnstaple, capital of North Devon, and capital also of the _Maid of
Sker_, or such portions of the story as relate to the county, proceed we
now. Already we have winged brief flights to the neighbourhood in
connection with Heanton Court and Ashford, one of Blackmore’s early
homes described so lovingly in the above-named romance. The scenes
appear very real, and would have been still more so but for the
construction of the railway, which shuts off from the view the house and
the old boat-stage (_Maid of Sker_, chapter xxxix.). The true name of
“Deadman’s Pill,” which was opposite Ashford, is Fremington Pill or
Penhill, a creek in which there was a sort of dock, where the larger
vessels anchored, and received or delivered cargoes.
Barnstaple is a place on which it would be a pleasure to bestow many a
page of garnered lore, and the district around is no less delightful to
the lover of the past. This being the case, it may be well to premise
that my hope is, in a subsequent volume on the Kingsley country, to
amplify the account here given, and this must excuse seeming
deficiencies.
The recollections of old inhabitants are always interesting, and it may
be laid down that, next to our own, no age attracts like that
immediately preceding it, out of which we are sprung, and in which
Blackmore flourished. Therefore I account it a fortunate accident that
made me for a short time an inmate in the house of Mr Parminter, one of
the makers of modern Barnstaple, who drew my attention to a remarkable
fact--that in the old days the town was provided with iron gates, which
were closed at night, to keep out tramps and travellers. Mr Parminter
remembers two--those in High Street and Cross Street. Boutport Street,
where Parson Rambone challenged all and sundry, must also have had its
gate.
A great support of old Barnstaple was the shipping industry. Vessels of
one hundred to two hundred tons were built here and owned by Barnstaple
men, amongst whom was Mr Bament, father of Mrs Carruthers Gould, who was
also a tanner. The ships were employed in different services, and known
as London traders, Liverpool traders, Bristol traders, etc., according
to the port of arrival. Their cargoes were of all kinds--groceries,
draperies, and general merchandise. There was also a considerable
traffic in Scotch herrings. The quays, of which there were four--three
above Barnstaple Bridge--were at right angles to the river. At present,
ships are barred from coming up beyond a certain distance by the railway
bridge. Below this, however, is the Rolle Quay (so called after the
Rolle family, to whom it belongs), which is still accessible, and where
much business is done. When in Barnstaple recently, I watched a sailing
ship from the opposite bank, and her action in entering curiously
resembled that of a mouse stealing into its hole. One of the services of
the Barnstaple vessels was as emigrant ships, and Mr Bament helped to
export hundreds of sturdy colonists to the Antipodes. In the _Maid of
Sker_ (chapter xxx.), the “Tawton fleet” of brown-sailed lighters is
referred to; the river is navigable for barges and small craft to about
three miles above the town.
Mr Parminter has many appetising reminiscences of parliamentary
elections, which in days of yore were in the hands of the freeman. This
position was esteemed a valuable privilege, since it carried with it
other rights, not merely that of voting. Mr Parminter, for instance, as
a freeman, was able, when building a chapel at Ilfracombe, to convey all
the material by sea without paying quay dues. As to politics, however.
Adjoining the North Walk is a mansion called the Castle, in the grounds
of which is a raised mound, on which in former times guns were mounted
for the defence of the river passage. This house was occupied for many
years by Mr Brembridge, M.P. for the borough (commonly known as “Dick
Brembridge”), who was pitted against Lord Ebrington, the present Lord
Fortescue, on one occasion, and, together with his colleague, unseated
for bribery. His lordship, however, was unable to occupy either of the
vacant places, as one of his own agents was convicted of corruption, to
the tune of £10. This was really a modest amount, seeing that in 1841 as
much as £80 was paid for a single vote. There were other modes of
gaining or retaining support, and amongst these may be reckoned a
champagne breakfast at the King’s Arms, which Mr Parminter recollects
attending when quite a boy, with his father. A famous contest was that
in which Messrs Hudson and Gore, the former a wealthy brewer, succeeded
in ousting the Hon. John Fortescue, brother of the present Earl, and Sir
John Palmer Chichester (“Arlington Jack”), representing two of the
oldest local families.
All the world has heard of Mr F. Carruthers Gould, the renowned
caricaturist, but all the world may not know that, although not a
resident in the town, Mr Gould is a thorough Barnstaple man, and his
wife, as we have seen, is a Barnstaple lady. The Goulds are an old
Barnstaple family. The grandfather of F. C. G. was a lime and slate
merchant, and his father, Mr Richard David Gould, a very clever
architect, in large practice, who designed the market and many private
residences, including the house in which Mr Parminter lives and I
lodged. Prior to this my excellent landlord occupied the Castle, an
hotel which he built for himself in the street of the same name, where
he had Mr R. D. Gould himself as a paying guest. In his youth Mr
Carruthers Gould was a clerk in the Old Bank, and, whilst in that
position, presumed to caricature old Trewin, the jailor--a terrible
personage, with a great capacity for holloaing. The sight of the picture
enraged him beyond measure, and it is said he was almost for murdering
the daring young artist.
For many years Barnstaple has known no such benefactor as the late Mr
W. F. Rock, who, I believe, started in life as a linen-draper and lived
to found the North Devon Athenæum, which originated in a debating
society. He was the author of a dialogue in the North Devon dialect, and
took an interest in many other things besides literature. For instance,
he gave a most useful stimulus to the slumbering artistic taste of the
townspeople; and the wonderful development of Barum ware and cabinet
work may be attributed, directly or indirectly, to the seed sown by this
wise and patriotic townsman.
From this gossip of recent days I turn to severer researches, suggested
in part by points that have already cropped up--for instance, the matter
of the castle. When Barnstaple Castle was first erected, whether by King
Athelstan or some other Saxon ruler, cannot be accurately stated. This
much is certain--that there was ample reason for such a fort in
Anglo-Saxon times, since the berserker Hubba appeared in the
neighbourhood, and at the mouth of the Taw is the so-called Hubba-stone,
supposed to mark his grave. Two other Norse chieftains, Crida and Putta,
are reputed to have given their names to Croyde and Putsborough. The
castle was rebuilt or considerably extended by Judhel de Totnes, a
favourite of William the Conqueror, to whom he, William, granted the
borough of Barnstaple, and who occasionally resided there. He also
repaired the town walls. Judhel was afterwards banished, and the barony
and castle, after passing through a number of different hands, came at
length to Sir John Chichester, who in 1566 conveyed the entire manor,
with the exception of the castle, to the corporation, in whom it is
still vested. For some reason the fortress attracted the jealous
attention of the Government, and in the reign of Henry III., A.D. 1228,
a precept was directed to the Sheriff of Devon, commanding him to reduce
its walls to a height not exceeding ten feet. According to Fuller, it
was in the following century the principal residence of the worthy Lord
Audley, but in Leland’s time (1542) it was already a ruin.
“The town of Berdenstaple,” he says, “hath been waulled, and the waulle
was in compace by estimation half a myle. It is now almost clene
faullen. The names of the four gates by east, west, north and south, yet
remain, and manifest tokens of them. There be manifest ruines of a great
castelle at the north-west side of the towne, a little beneath the towne
bridge, and a place of dungeon yet standeth.”
The next notice of the castle is found in the Journal of Philip Wyott,
Town Clerk of Barnstaple from 1586 to 1608: “1601, nineteenth day of
December, at night, some of the castle walls was blown down and blown
into the Castle, and did no harm, saving some ravens were found dead,
and belike sat within the wall.” Elsewhere the Journal tells how two
hundred trained soldiers were reviewed in the Castle Green, and, how, in
October 1606, a great flood “threw down the whole house wherein James
Frost did dwell, whereby himself was slayne, and two children lying
within bed was slayne, with the falling of the walls, and all the walls
between that and the Castle fell.”
The aforesaid mound, and some remains of two or three massive walls
incorporated with the Castle House, alone are left to mark the site of
the once proud river-fort. With regard to the mound, time was when it
was surmounted by a small keep or watch-tower, and it is supposed that
part of a wall on one side of it is a remnant of the ancient building.
This had plainly vanished in 1727, when trespassers on the mound were
put on their trial at Exeter.
Next, as to shipping. Barnstaple was one of the subsidiary Cinque Ports,
and, as such, assisted in repelling the Spanish Armada. The local
contribution to the English fleet amounted to five ships out of a total
number of 197. Old Philip Wyott says briefly: “Five ships went over the
bar to join Sir Francis Drake at Plymo,” but Stow, in his _Annals_,
supplies the names of three of them--the _Tiger_, the _God Save Her_,
and the _Galleon Dudley_. On the dispersal of the dreaded Armada,
letters of marque were issued by the English Government, and piracy
having become both legal and respectable, Barumites engaged in it with
considerable energy and success, the reprisal ships bringing in freights
of gold, ivory, and wine. The _White Hart_, the _Blessing_, the
_Prudence_, the _John of Braunton_, and the _Mayflower_ were the names
of some of these Barnstaple vessels, and in the case of the two last,
complete lists of the “governors” and crews in 1612, together with
inventories of the fittings, are yet extant.
One of the sights of Barnstaple is Queen Anne’s Walk, with its
convenient colonnade, in which one may see old men, who have borne the
burden and heat of the day, resting placidly and watching the stream of
traffic surge past them. Originally the building was intended as an
exchange or merchant’s walk, and did not acquire its present name till
1708, when it was restored by the Corporation, with the help of some
noblemen; and the statue of Queen Anne, in the costume of the period,
was presented by Mr Rolle, of Stevenstone.
Not far away is Barnstaple Bridge, with its many arches, spanning the
river Taw--the scene of one of Tom Faggus’s exciting adventures.
Westcote has a quaint tale concerning the origin of this stately bridge,
which, he declares, was due to two maiden ladies, sisters, who were
spinsters in both senses. Not only did they spin themselves, but they
taught young children the art, and with the proceeds of their industry
brought about the completion of the first two piers. Nor was this all.
They obtained a license to go a-begging among good and charitable people
with a view to accumulating funds for the finishing of the structure.
A terrible episode in the history of Barnstaple was the visitation of
the plague in 1646. This came direct from the Levant in a vessel laden
with wool, and after decimating Bideford, extended its ravages to the
larger town. There is a gruesome tradition on the subject, which is
worth recording, and may possibly have some foundation in fact. It is as
follows. Four brothers, sons of Thomas and Agnes Ley, were fishing on
the banks of the Taw, when the tide floated up a bundle. This they drew
to the shore, and discovered that it was simply bedding and rugs, which
had no doubt been the property of a
[Illustration: BARNSTAPLE BRIDGE.]
sailor, and had for some reason been thrown into the sea. The sequel
rendered it well-nigh certain that the poor man had died of the
pestilence, with which all four brothers became infected, and of which
they all died. As a precaution against the further spread of the
disease, the corpses were ferried across the river to the Tawstock bank,
and interred at high-water mark. Here a monument was erected to their
memory, and an enclosure formed by seven elms, which, through some
confusion, resulted in the spot being named the “Seven Brethren Bank.”
In 1791 a certain Elizabeth Horwood made a copy of the inscription on
the tombstone, which she described as standing in Higher Pill Marsh, on
the east side of the gut that emptied itself into the Taw, a little
above the higher Tawstock marsh and bank. The epitaph, apparently
genuine, is stated to have been:--
“To the memory of our four sweet sons, John, Joseph, Thomas, and
Richard, who immaturely taken from us altogether, by Divine
Providence, are Hear inter’d, the 17 August, Anno 1646.
“Good and great God, to thee we do resigne
Our four dear sons, for they were duly thine,
And, Lord, we were not worthy of the name
To be the sonnes of faithful Abrahame,
Had we not learnt for thy just pleasure sake
To yield our all as he his Isaack.
Reader, perhaps thou knewest this field, but ah!
’Tis now become another Macpelah.
What then? This honour it doth boast the more,
Never such seeds were sowne therein before,
W^{ch} shall revive and Christ his angells warne
To beare with triumphe to the heavenly Barne.”
From tragedy to romance. Mr Charles Cutcliffe, of Weach, a solicitor
residing at Bideford, is the narrator; Madam Chichester, daughter of the
Rev. Charles Howard, and relict of Arthur Chichester, of Hall, the lady
implicated, and the Rev. George Bradford, the eloping parson. The
incident is succinctly related in the following letters--with a rider.
“May 21, 1728.--There was a very great storm at Pill last Friday. I mean
within doors, for that morning ab^{t} one, the parson of Tawton and
Mad^{m} Chichester ridd away together without a serv^{t}, in order to be
married; but where the jobb was done, I don’t yet hear with certainty.
The parson yesterday made a visit in his coach, and no doubt looks very
grand.
“June 9, 1728.--I think I wrote you that the Viccar of Tawton had
married Mad^{m} Chichester. I must now acquaint you that Coz^{n} Moll
Chichester was married to Mr Waldron, her old sweetheart, the Monday
following, but not discovered till last week. I had the pleasure
yesterday of bringing father and daughter together at Pill, where all
things were perfectly reconciled, and am forthwith to prepare an
handsome settlement.”
Tawstock Court, a long castellated building, and Tawstock Church, which
has been called the “Westminster Abbey of the West,” encompassed with
old woods, and so closely linked that they may almost be regarded as
one, are near neighbours of Bishop’s Tawton, the home of the romantic
vicar. Their unity of interest may be illustrated by an ancient custom
depicted in a print belonging to Sir Bourchier Wrey, and a much valued
heirloom. In the churchyard are two ivy-covered pillars, the remains of
a gateway through which the family at the mansion walked on their way to
church, while behind them, in solemn procession, marched their servants
and retainers.
A full account of the contents of this most sumptuous church is beside
my purpose, but attention may be drawn to some of its more important
features. In the north transept is a square wainscoted seat, which has a
canopy adorned with coloured bosses, and on the cornice are Bourchier
knots. The latter circumstance suggests that it was the state pew of the
Bourchiers, Earls of Bath, though the opinion has been hazarded that it
was a confessional box. The late Sir Gilbert Scott thought the best
piece of carving in the building the little gallery leading into the
belfry, the principal adornment being the vignette or running decoration
of leaves and tendrils. The bench-ends also, with their alto-rilievo of
rose, pomegranate, and royal arms, are excellent specimens of
wood-carving.
The beautiful screen was erected by John Bourchier, second earl, whose
arms and quarterings, impaling those of his countess, the Lady Elinor,
are to be seen on the outside of the church over the priest’s door.
The monuments are of almost unparalleled splendour. The “goodliest of
all,” as Risdon has it, is that erected to the memory of William
Bourchier, third earl, and his wife, Lady Elisabeth Russell, daughter of
Francis, Earl of Bedford, whose armorial bearings are fully blazoned.
The recumbent figures of the earl and countess are life-size, and the
colouring of their crimson robes, lined with ermine, is still perfect.
The fifth and last earl, Henry, was honoured with a large sarcophagus,
which is surmounted by “an elegant black urn,” supported by four
griffins. Beside it stands the marble statue of his wife, the Lady
Rachel Fane, daughter of Francis, Earl of Westmorland. The work of
Bernini, a famous Florentine sculptor it is mounted on a decorated
pedestal of circular form. A square canopy, built in memory of Lady
Fitzwarren and her babes in 1586, adorns the south wall, and under an
arch in the north wall of the chancel is the recumbent figure of a lady,
_temp._ Edward III., carved in wood.
An ancient chest in a small room, to which access is gained by a flight
of old oak stairs, preserves the remains of a collection of armour of
the style worn by musketeers in the reign of Charles I., and till 1832
“as good as new.” In that year a visitor requested permission to
purchase it, but was informed that he was just too late--it had been
sold to a Taunton man as old iron. And so nearly the whole of the
morions, gorgets, back and breast-plates, wheel-lock guns and
bandoliers, which were deposited in this chamber until comparatively
recently, have been irrecoverably lost.
Another village within easy reach of Barnstaple is Landkey, the original
home of the great Devonshire family of Acland. If, however, I allude to
it here, it is on account of an extraordinary story, for which old
Westcote vouches, and which may as well be given in his own quaint
language.
“In this parish of Landkey are two towns (indeed both will make but a
pretty village were they joined), named Easter and Wester Newlands; a
thoroughfare much travelled, as being not passing two miles from
Barnstaple. These are somewhat dangerous to be passed by strangers; not
for thieves or such like, but to those whose tongues are ushers to their
wits, and walk before them, such I mean as bring the cause with them;
for if out of their blindness and boldness (for it is no other), though
they term it valour, they shall cry out these words (I am almost afraid
to whisper them), “Camp-le-tout, Newland,” held of the good women very
scandalous to their honesty, they are instantly all up like a nest of
wasps with the first alarum, the streets are corded, the party (or more,
if more be in the company) beaten down from his horse (if he ride) with
stones, or other dog-bolts always in readiness, so taken and used at the
pleasure of the good townswomen, washed, shaved, and perfumed (and other
like dainty trimming, not for modesty to be spoken) that he that travels
that way a fortnight after may smell what hath there been done; and he
that hath made the trial will confess, by experience, that it is folly
for a wise man to anger a multitude causelessly.
“Believe what I set down for your behoof
Or come that way and find it true by proof.”
The great event in Barnstaple was, and perhaps is, its fair, for which
David Llewellyn arrived just in the nick of time, establishing his
headquarters at the “Jolly Sailors” in Bear Street. I cannot find that
any hostelry of that name ever existed in this thoroughfare, which,
however, boasted the “Ebberly Arms,” the “Rolle Arms,” and the
“Northmolton Inn.” The importance of Barnstaple Fair is beyond dispute,
and formerly was much greater. It is still the largest in the county,
both for business and pleasure. The opening ceremony is quaint; for a
company assemble in the Guildhall, where the Mayor provides a feast of
mulled ale, toast, and cheese. On such occasions the civic plate is
displayed, including two massive silver flagons, which are among the few
Elizabethan municipal drinking-vessels in the country; and another
interesting piece is the punch-bowl presented by Thomas Benson, who
forgot to supply the ladle, but afterwards repaired the omission, and
caused the latter to be inscribed “He who gave the bowl gave the ladle.”
Benson represented Barnstaple in Parliament, but having cheated the
Government by sending convicts to Lundy Island instead of abroad, was
compelled to fly the country. Numerous speeches are made by the Mayor
and others, after which a procession is formed and wends its way to the
High Cross, where the Fair is formally proclaimed.
The duration of the Fair is three days, the first being devoted to the
buying and selling of cattle. In the middle of the last century £20,000,
it is said, was often expended in the purchase of live stock. The cattle
fair used to be held in Boutport Street--the scene of Rambone’s
swagger. On the second day was the horse fair, and, in conjunction
therewith, a stag-hunt was held. The meet was on the borders of Exmoor.
The third day was given up to sight-seeing and all manner of
amusements.