Part 6

Many a Devonshire Courtenay sat as Knight of the Shire for his native County; others of the family filled the office of Sheriff; and thus for 340 years this branch of the house did its duty punctually and well, earning fresh honours and new titles in the place of those which lay in abeyance.

On the death of Edward, eighth Earl, in 1556, at Padua, the Courtenays of Powderham were represented by Sir William Courtenay, who died at the siege of St. Quintin, a few months after the decease of his noble kinsman, his son and successor, also called William, being but four years old at the time.

It may be that the tidings of the death of the head of the house were long in travelling from Italy to distant Devonshire. It may be that none of the living members of the family were cognizant of the facts of the case; but whatever the reasons, for 260 years the Earldom of Devon was regarded as lapsed, and no successor claimed its honour and dignity, though some indications may, indeed, be found, both in written records and the behaviour of individuals, of a belief that the title, though latent, was not extinct.

Gibbon, who himself has conferred a great and undying honour on the family by devoting, in his monumental work, a whole chapter to the history of the Courtenays, uses this significant expression: “His personal honours as if they had been legally extinct”; and in 1660, when Charles II. offered the dignity of a Baronetcy to the then Sir William Courtenay, it was, as Cleveland relates, refused, “he not affecting that title because he thought greater of right belonged to him. Indeed, the patent of Baronetcy was never taken out, although his successors were always styled as such.”

It is possible, however, that this refusal may have been due to the natural irritation felt by the head of a great family at seeing his hereditary and ancestral honours conferred on others; for in 1602, James I. created Charles Blunt, Lord Mountjoy, Earl of Devonshire, and on his decease, six years later, gave the same title to William Cavendish, in whose line it remained until changed to a Dukedom.

In the reign of William III., an offer of an English Barony was made to the head of the Courtenays, and again refused; but in 1762, the many services of Sir William Courtenay, eighth of the name, merited a higher honour, and he, accepting a Peerage, took his seat in the House of Lords as Viscount Courtenay of Powderham Castle.

Only surviving his elevation some six months, he was succeeded by his son, who, marrying a lady of less exalted lineage than himself, became the parent of one son and thirteen daughters.

This only son and heir, the tenth in thirteen generations who successively bore the name of William, on the advice, it is said, of that distinguished lawyer, Mr. Pepys, afterwards Lord Chancellor and first Earl of Cottenham, in 1830 asserted, by petition to Parliament, his right to the ancient Earldom of Devon. The grounds of the claim were as follows: When, in the year 1553, Sir Edward Courtenay, son of Henry, Marquis of Exeter and Earl of Devonshire, attainted and executed by Henry VIII., after having suffered a long confinement in the Tower, obtained from Queen Mary his release, she annulled the attainder, and created him, by special patent, “to hold the title and dignity of Earl of Devon with the said honours and pre-eminence thereunto belonging, to the aforesaid Edward and his _heir male for ever_” (“prefato Edwardo et heredibus suis masculis imperpetuum”). And this phrase is again repeated later: “Do grant to the aforesaid now Earl that he and his _heirs male_ may enjoy ... the same pre-eminence as any of the ancestors of the said Earl being heretofore Earl of Devon may have enjoyed.”

With great lucidity and deep knowledge of the subject, Mr. Pepys maintained that, whereas in the majority of patents it was usual to restrict the title to the recipient and his direct descendants (heirs male of his body), in this instance, as shown by the wording of the deed, the Sovereign deliberately intended to restore the Earldom to the heir male of Hugh, second Earl of Devon, which position was undoubtedly occupied by the claimant, William, Viscount Courtenay.

Certain cases were cited in support of this contention, especially the charter given by Richard II. creating William le Scrope Earl of Wiltshire, and special reference was made to a patent of Charles I. appointing Lewis Boyle Baron of Bandon Bridge, which contained a declaration explaining the express intention of words absolutely similar to those used in the deed concerning the Earldom of Devon. The claim was tried before the Committee of Privileges of the House of Lords, consisting of the Lord Chancellor (Lord Brougham) and Lord Wynford, who himself, as Sir W. Draper-Best, had lately been raised to the peerage, for the reason, as Greville, in his Memoirs, amusingly remarks, “that he is to assist the Chancellor in deciding Scotch causes of which he knows nothing whatever; as the Chancellor knows nothing either, the Scotch law is likely to be strangely administered.” The decision in this case which related to an English peerage, however, was eminently just, and the House resolved and adjudged: “That William, Viscount Courtenay, hath made out his claim to the title, honour, and dignity of Earl of Devon.”

By this decision, William, Lord Courtenay, succeeded to one of the great historical titles of England, for the Earl of Devon is justly entitled to rank with his brothers of Shrewsbury, Derby, Huntingdon, and Pembroke, who, occupying Earldoms created before 1600, have been designated Catskin Earls—a name concerning the derivation of which authorities differ, some alleging that the ancient trimming of an Earl’s gown consisted of cat skin, in the place of ermine; while others are inclined to believe that in early times Peers of this rank were permitted to wear four (quatre) rows of fur on their coronation robes. It is to be feared that now this question “des jupons” will never be definitely settled.

On the successful issue of his claim, William, ninth Earl of Devon, both at Powderham, in London, and in Paris, maintained a state which, however worthy of the vast domains appertaining to his great ancestors, yet cast a heavy burden on the mere moderate appanage inherited by himself, with the inevitable result that the estates were encumbered and the successor to the title seriously embarrassed. He died, a bachelor, in 1835, being succeeded by his cousin, William, the representative of a younger branch of the family derived from Sir William Courtenay, third Baronet.

This nobleman, before his accession to the Peerage, sat in the House of 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.

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.