EXETER CATHEDRAL—FROM THE SOUTH-WEST.

THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF
EXETER

A DESCRIPTION OF ITS FABRIC
AND A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE
EPISCOPAL SEE

BY PERCY ADDLESHAW, B.A. (Oxon.)

LONDON G. BELL AND SONS, LTD. 1921

Table of
Contents

AUTHOR’S PREFACE

Among various books consulted the author specially owes his
acknowledgments to “The Fabric Rolls”; Leland’s “Itinerary”; Holler’s
“History”; Izacke’s “Antiquities of Exeter”; Britton’s “History and
Antiquities of Exeter”; “Transactions of Exeter Architectural Society”;
Oliver’s “Lives of the Bishops of Exeter”; Murray’s “Handbook of Exeter”;
Archdeacon Freeman’s “Architectural History of Exeter Cathedral”;
Professor Freeman’s “Exeter” (Historic Towns Series); Prince’s “Worthies
of Devon”; Worth’s “History of Devonshire”; Fuller’s “Worthies of Devon”;
Macaulay’s “History of England”; and Green’s “Short History of the
English People.” The author would also express his special thanks to the
late Canon Hingeston-Randolph, the learned editor of the Episcopal
Registers of the Diocese, for information which contributed largely to
the improvement of the second edition of this book.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION

In reissuing this handbook, which during the lapse of twenty-three
years had become out of date in many ways, the editor has introduced
considerable alterations in the arrangement of the matter, with a view to
facilitating its use as a guide to the various parts of the Cathedral.
For suggestions as to this, and for numerous improvements and corrections
in detail he is particularly indebted to Miss Beatrix F. Cresswell, whose
published works “Exeter Churches,” “Notes on the Churches of the Deanery
of Ken,” and “Edwardian Inventories for the City and County of Exeter”
have made her an authority on the ecclesiology of the Diocese.

E.B.

June, 1921.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

EXETER CATHEDRAL, FROM THE SOUTH.

[pg 1]

EXETER CATHEDRAL.

HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ST. MARY AND
ST. PETER IN EXETER.

The history of any ancient cathedral must always be interesting, and
that of Exeter is no exception, though “it supplies less of architectural
history than those churches whose whole character has been altered over
and over again.” A cathedral represents not only the spiritual, but the
active, laborious, and artistic life of past generations. The bishop,
too, was in many ways the head man of the province, and combined, not
seldom, the varied qualities of priest, warrior, and statesman. The acts
of such ecclesiastics were full of importance, not for their own city
only, but often also for the whole nation. As men who had frequently
travelled much and studied deeply, they summoned to their aid in the
building and beautifying of their churches the most skilled artists end
artificers of their time; so, with the story of the lives of the bishops
of a diocese, the history of a cathedral’s building is inextricably
woven. To be elevated to a bishopric generally meant to be put into
possession of great wealth—when Veysey became bishop the revenues
of the see of Exeter have, by some authors, been computed at £100,000;
Canon Hingeston-Randolph puts them, with more reason and authority, at
the sum of £30,000—and a large portion of this money was spent on
works connected with the chief church of the diocese. It is not
wonderful, therefore, this generosity being joined to marvellous skill
and taste, that our old cathedrals are at once the despair and envy of
the modern architect. And it is with a feeling of reverence that one
recalls the history of those who built in the heart of each populous city
“grey cliffs of lonely stone into the midst of sailing birds and silent
air.”

[pg 2]
The story of Exeter has an unique interest, and its church, as we
shall see, is in many respects without a rival. The fact that a building
of such great beauty should adorn a city so situated is remarkable; for
long after—as we read in Macaulay—weekly posts left London
for various parts of England, Exeter was still, as it were, on the
borders of territories scarcely explored, and was the furthest western
point to which letters were conveyed from the metropolis. Fuller thus
describes the county of Devonshire in his day (1646): “Devonshire hath
the narrow seas on the South, the Severn on the North, Cornwall on the
West, Dorset and Somersetshire on the East. A goodly province, the second
in England for greatness, clear in view without measuring, as bearing a
square of fifty miles. Some part thereof, as the South Hams, is so
fruitful it needs no art; but generally (though not running of itself) it
answers to the spur of industry. No shire showes more industrious, or so
many Husbandmen, who by Marle (blew and white), Chalk, Lime, Seasand,
Compost, Sopeashes, Rags and what not, make the ground both to take and
keep a moderate fruitfulness; so that Virgil, if now alive, might make
additions to his Georgicks, from the Plough-practice in this county. As
for the natives thereof, generally they are dexterous in any employment,
and Queen Elizabeth was wont to say of the gentry: They were all born
courtiers with a becomming confidence.”

The city of Exeter is of great age. “Isca Damnoniorum, Caer Wise,
Exanceaster, Exeter, keeping essentially the same name under all changes,
stands distinguished as the one great city which has, in a more marked
way than any other, kept its unbroken being and its unbroken position
throughout all ages.” But though Whitaker asserts that in the middle of
the fifth century it was the seat of a bishop, Professor Freeman, with
more authority, declares that the city did not become a bishop’s see till
the latter half of the eleventh century, at which period the bishopstools
were removed from the small to the great towns. Until 703 A.D. Devonshire
formed part of the vast diocese of Wessex. About the year 900 A.D. the
diocese of Devon and Cornwall was divided into two—the former with
its bishop’s seat at Crediton—only to be reunited again a hundred
and fifty years later when Leofric was appointed bishop.

The first record of a church dedicated to SS. Mary and Peter in
Exeter, is that of an abbey church founded by
[pg 3] Athelstan. But Sweyn
destroyed it seventy years later, and it seems frequently to have been
attacked by invaders previous to its destruction. But in 1019 Canute
endowed a new church and confirmed by charter their lands and privileges
to the monks. This building must have been of some pretensions, for it
was given to Leofric for his cathedral church in 1050. It occupied the
site of the present Lady Chapel. When Warelwast and Marshall built their
Norman church they placed it on the east of the old church, leaving an
intervening space. Their nave occupied the site of the present nave, the
transeptal towers were the same, but the choir was shorter and probably
terminated in an apse flanked by smaller apses at the ends of the choir
aisles. Traces of one of these have been found at the end of the third
bay of the north choir aisle. Bronscombe and Quivil (see p. 5) began their reconstruction at this end, and by
adding the ambulatory and Lady Chapel linked together the sites of the
old and new churches.

With the episcopate of Leofric, Exeter first assumes the rank of a
cathedral city. The sees of Devon and Cornwall had been held together by
Lyfing, the last bishop of Crediton. But Crediton, an unfortified “vill,”
was an easy prey to the Irish, Danes, and other pirates, who devastated
the diocese from time to time. Leofric felt the urgent necessity for a
change, and fixed on the walled town of Exeter to be his cathedral city.
He sent a clerk to the pope asking him to write to the king recommending
the change. The king readily consented, and the church of St. Mary and
St. Peter was given to the bishop as his cathedral church. The event was
clearly regarded as of considerable importance, for at his installation
Edward the Confessor “supported his right arm and Queen Eadgytha his
left.” Archbishops, bishops, and nobles also assisted at the ceremony.
Leofric proved a hard-working and wise prelate, and gave generously of
lands and moneys to his church. He had found it but poorly furnished, the
wardrobe only containing “one worthless priest’s dress.” He also
remembered it in his will, and the great “Liber Exoniensis” was his
gift.

But if the history of the see has its birth with Leofric, the story of
the cathedral begins with the appointment in 1107 of Warelwast as bishop.
This noteworthy man was a nephew of the Conqueror and chaplain to both
William II and Henry I. Inheriting to the full the Norman passion for
building, he [pg 4] pulled down the Saxon edifice and began
to erect a great Norman cathedral in its stead. The transeptal towers
attest the magnificence of his scheme. There is nothing quite like them
anywhere else, though at Barcelona and Chalons-sur-Marne may be seen
something similar. But they suffice to stamp him as an architect of
exceptional genius. He laboured zealously in other matters, founding at
Plympton a wealthy Augustinian priory; he also represented the king at
Rome in his famous quarrel with Anselm. It is said that he became blind
and died, an old man, at his priory of Plympton.

The next important date to notice is 1194, when Henry Marshall,
brother of Walter Earl Marshall, was made bishop. For two years the
episcopal throne had remained empty, the king being absent from England
in the Holy Land. But with the appointment of Marshall a most important
stage is reached. King John gave to the see the tithes of the tin in
Devonshire and Cornwall. This must have largely increased the episcopal
income, for Marshall quickly set about completing the work Warelwast had
begun a hundred years before. To this end he granted the emoluments of
St. Erth’s Church, near Hayle, Cornwall, to be used towards defraying the
cost of repairs. He also called upon each householder to show his
interest in the work by subscribing, at Pentecost, an alms of “unum
obolum ad minim.” For the sufficient remuneration of the choral vicars he
made over to them the church of St. Swithun in Woodbury, “with all its
appurtenances.”

To Marshall we owe extensive additions to the nave, the north porch,
and the cloister doorway. He completed the Norman church begun by
Warelwast, but there is no evidence that he extended to the eastward, as
is sometimes stated. The position of the tomb in the “founder’s place” on
the north side of the choir indicates that it terminated only a few yards
farther to the east. Beyond there must have been an open space between
the Norman and the old Saxon cathedrals.

For nearly fifty years there are but scant records of work done to the
building. Though Professor Freeman
1 speaks of its “not long-lived perfection,”
it is quite possible that Marshall’s work was considered, by his own and
the succeeding generation, to be final. Any interest there may be in the
lives of two of the succeeding bishops, until the election of Bronscombe
in 1257, is for the most part due to their labours
[pg 5] in other matters. For
example, under Simon de Apulia, the city of Exeter was divided into
parishes; and by William Bruere the chapter house and stalls of the old
choir were completed. He was one of the leaders of the English army at
Acre in 1228. He also created the deanery of Exeter.

But with the arrival of Walter Bronscombe a new career of
architectural energy begins. Now dawns that wonderful transformation
period, at the close of which the church stood pretty much as we now know
it. Concerning Bronscombe’s character there has been somewhat bitter
dispute. It is certain that he was accused of craftiness and meanness.
But William of Worcester, whose testimony is valuable, called him Walter
le Good. Whatever may be the real truth of the matter, he seems to have
made an admirable bishop, his election reflecting considerable credit on
the acumen of those concerned in it. For he had not, surely, much to
recommend him, at first sight, for so important a position. Though he was
Archdeacon of Surrey at the time of his appointment, he was not a priest,
and he was quite a young man. He was a vigorous supporter of learning
throughout the diocese, probably because of his anxiety to give other men
of humble origin a fair chance of making their way in the world. He
restored the College of Crediton, and built one at Glaseney. Bronscombe
may be credited with giving the first impetus to the reconstruction of
the cathedral by his work in the Lady Chapel and the chapels on either
side of it, viz., that of St. Mary Magdalen on the north, and St. Gabriel
on the south, the latter being destined for his own tomb. To his Dean and
Chapter he appropriated the church of St. Bruared in Cornwall, that the
feast of his patron saint, Gabriel, might be worthily maintained.

Peter Quivil, his successor in the see, was probably working with him,
as he was a canon of the cathedral before being raised to the bishopric.
He invented and designed the Decorated cathedral, and transformed the
transepts. He must be classed with Warelwast as the chief of the building
bishops. Admirably and sympathetically as his work was continued by those
who followed him, their claim on our recognition and gratitude is less.
His skill, too, seems to have been almost equalled by his generosity, for
out of gratitude the Chapter promised to maintain his yearly obit. In the
office of the mass, in the memento for the dead, his name was ordered to
be spoken primum et praecipium. He seems to have given the
Franciscans some [pg 6] cause for anger; it is suggested that his
Dominican confessor urged him to treat the followers of St. Francis with
severity. Anyhow, the aggrieved ones had their revenge, for the bishop’s
death, which happened on the eve of St. Francis, “after drinking of a
certain sirrop,” was popularly attributed to the direct intervention of
the saint himself. He is buried in the Lady Chapel, which he had
transformed and decorated with such tender care, and a slab in the centre
of the pavement, bearing the legend “Petra tegit Petrum nihil officiat
sibi tetrum,” is dedicated to his memory.

It has been ascertained by Canon Hingeston-Randolph that Bishop Quivil
was the first to endow the office of chaunter with an adequate salary,
and that the first to enjoy the benefit of it was Walter de Lecchelade or
Lechlade, though he was by no means the first chaunter or precentor. A
dispute that long agitated antiquaries has thus been settled. For it was
contended by some that John the chaunter was the first to hold the
office, by others that Quivil founded the office and that the bishop’s
name was really John Cauntor. But the explanation that the stipend was
only increased by Quivil, and that it existed before his day, was
entirely satisfactory, we may hope, to the supporters of the rival
theories. The above-mentioned Walter Lechlade was murdered “about two in
the morning” on his return from matins in the cathedral cloisters. The
murderers escaped through the south gate of the city, which was left
open. An extraordinary sensation was created, not in Exeter only but
throughout England. The bishop invited Edward I. and his queen to keep
their Christmas at the Palace. We are told “they were very industrious in
finding out the murtherers.” At last Alfred Dupont, an ex-mayor and
porter of the south gate, was found guilty and executed accordingly.
Perhaps, had the office of chaunter not been endowed, Walter Lechlade
might have continued for many long years to chaunt in sonorous voice
“matins, vespers, obits, and the like.” At any rate the story is worth
telling, being an interesting picture of manners in the middle ages. It
will be found given, with many interesting details, in an appendix by
Canon Hingeston-Randolph to his edition of the Register of Bishop Quivil
(p. 438).

Quivil’s successor was Thomas De Bytton, Dean of Wells. Under his
guidance the work of transformation planned by his predecessor was
loyally continued, for he faithfully adhered to the original design.
Though Bytton appears to have been
[pg 7] less active outside
his diocese than many of the Exeter bishops, his mode of life must have
commended itself to a large circle. A grant of forty days’ indulgence was
the reward of all those who availed themselves of his spiritual
ministrations, or offered prayers for his prosperity during his life and
after death. Among the signatures appended to the document notifying this
singular privilege are those of numerous archbishops and bishops, among
them being those of the archbishops of Cosensa and Jerusalem, and
Manfred, Bishop of St. Mark’s, Venice. “The seal of Manfred,” Dr. Oliver
says, “is perfect; he stands robed, with a piece of embroidery on his
alb. The crozier is simply curved. His legend is S. MANFREDI. DEI. GRA.
EPISCOP. SCI. MARCHI.” It was dated at Rome in the year 1300. Possibly
Bytton’s great learning, by which he had risen to be Professor of Canon
Law at Oxford and Pope’s Chaplain, was partly the reason of so notable a
compliment. But the noble work he was doing in the cathedral church of
his diocese, we may hope, had not a little to do with the honour. For to
him we owe the entire transformation of the choir with its aisles.
Bytton’s labours were, indeed, very great. We hear of large quantities of
stone procured from Barley, and of sandstone from Salcombe and
Branscombe. He also put a good deal of stained glass into the windows; so
that in the eleventh year of his episcopate the following item is
recorded: “Master Walter le Verrouer for setting the glass of the upper
gable and of eight upper windows, and of six windows in the aisles of the
new work, in gross, £4 l0s.” Bytton was succeeded, in 1308,
by Walter de Stapledon, the most famous of all the bishops of Exeter. A
younger son of Sir Richard Stapledon of Annery, his appointment was the
first of a succession of aristocratic nominations. He, too, had been a
professor of canon law at Oxford, was a chaplain to the Pope and
precentor of the cathedral church of Exeter. The feast given after his
enthronement was unusually splendid, the revenues for a whole year being
spent on the festivities. It seems as though, conscious of his great
talents, he determined to signalize his accession to the episcopal office
by some event of unusual magnificence. It must be remembered that Exeter
was at this time one of the largest and richest sees in England. As
Professor Freeman has pointed out, “The Bishop of Exeter, like the
Archbishop of York, was the spiritual head of a separate people.”
Stapledon [pg
8] set about expediting the work of transforming the cathedral
into the Decorated style in vigorous fashion. The Fabric Rolls record
that he himself gave the (then) enormous sum of £1,800 towards
defraying the cost. His generosity encouraged others to subscribe
liberally towards the building fund. One of his first duties was to
complete the choir, a payment being made to William Canon of £35
2s. 8d. for “marble from Corfe for the columns.” But the
choir was really Bytton’s, the new bishop had only to give to it “a few
final, though not unimportant, touches.” Still he found plenty of work to
hand that might receive the impress of his sole initiative. He designed
and completed the triforium arcade above the choir arches, and directed
the colouring of the choir vault, the total expenses for oil and colour
being estimated at £1 9s. 7¾d. By these “final
touches” the transformation of the choir into the Decorated style was
completed. But Stapledon determined to further enrich his already
beautiful church with accessories of surpassing splendour. He erected a
high altar of silver, also the beautiful sedilia, and though there has
been a good deal of dispute about the matter, the more trustworthy
authorities attribute to him the bishop’s throne of carved wood. At any
rate, in 1312, there is a charge of £6 12s. 8½d.
for “timber for the bishop’s seat.” The altar, unfortunately, has
disappeared, but it is reputed to have cost a sum equivalent to
£7,000 of our money. Canon Freeman thus describes it: “Above, as
it should seem (for the entries are very obscure), was a canopy of
considerable extent, wrought with bosses internally. The whole seems to
have been surmounted by a figure of our Lord.” With Stapledon building
seems to have been a favourite recreation; for though he gave most
largely both of time and money to the cathedral work, he found
opportunity to build and endow Harts Hall, Stapledon Inn—now Exeter
College—Oxford, and the “very fair” Essex House in London. In 1320
he was created Lord High Treasurer by Edward II., and later in the same
year received from his sovereign the power of holding pleas of “hue and
cry” in the lands, tenements, and fees of the bishopric in the county of
Cornwall. The neglected condition of many of the parish churches in his
diocese distressed him, and almost his last public appearance in the west
of England was at Lawhitton, where he spoke severely on this matter to
his Dean and Chapter, and bade them see to
[pg 9] it that in future
there should be no good cause of complaint. In the autumn of 1324 he set
out for France, accompanying the young Prince Edward, who was about to do
homage to the French king for the duchies of Aquitaine and Poitou. But
his “irreproachable integrity” made him unpopular, and his life was
threatened. On his return to England he saw that a crisis was at hand,
and almost immediately after his arrival Queen Eleanor landed on the
coast of Suffolk. Edward II., in a brief moment of wisdom, assigned to
the faithful bishop the government of London and retreated to Bristol.
But it was too late to effect a reconciliation or prevent a catastrophe.
With a firm hand Stapledon endeavoured to restore order and quiet, and
promulgated a decree by which all rebels were excommunicated. But the
citizens, wisely perhaps, sided with the conquerors, and the bishop died
a martyr to duty. The story is well told in the French chronicles quoted
by Dr. Oliver. “The Bishop of Exeter, riding towards his inn or hotel, in
Eldeanes-lane for dinner, encountered the mob, and, hearing them shout
Traitor, he rode rapidly to St. Paul’s for sanctuary, but was unhorsed,
taken to Cheapside, stripped and beheaded. About the hour of vespers, the
same day, October 15th, the choir of St. Paul’s took up the headless body
of the prelate and conveyed it to St. Paul’s, but, on being informed that
he died under sentence, the body was brought to St. Clement’s beyond the
Temple, but was ejected; so that the naked corpse, with a rag given by
the charity of a woman, was laid on the spot called ‘Le Lawles Cherche,’
and without any grave, lay there with those of his two esquires, without
office of priest or clerk. His house was attacked, the gates burned,
quantities of jewels and plate plundered.”

In another account of his death it is stated that his head was “fixed
on a long pole by way of trophy, that it might be to all beholders a
lasting memorial of his attempted crime.” There was a personal reason why
the bishop was unpopular among the citizens, for “he procured that the
justices in eyre should sit in London; on which occasion, because the
citizens had committed various offences, they were heavily punished by
the loss of their liberties, by pecuniary mulcts, and by bodily
chastisment, as they deserved.” But the queen caused his body to be
rescued from the “hepe of rubische,” and it was removed to Exeter, where
it lies on the north side of the choir.
[pg 10] He left behind him
large sums of money and plate, a valuable library and, unique item,
ninety-one rings. He was certainly one of the greatest prelates in
English history, and though he may have been, as his detractors asserted,
“fumische and without pite,” he was revered in his diocese, and left an
example of courage and honesty to succeeding generations. His executors,
animated by a wish to do what he would have desired, distributed
£210 8s. 8d. in charities, and gave considerable
sums to other worthy objects. And the Abbot of Hartland caused the 15th
of October to be solemnly observed, out of gratitude for the late
bishop’s bounty, and decreed that on that day “for all future times
‘XIII. pauperes in aulâ abbatis, pro ipsius anima, pascantur.'”

To follow so redoubtable a prelate as Stapledon must have been an
extremely difficult task. But Grandisson, who was appointed after
Berkeley’s short episcopate ended, has sometimes been called the most
magnificent prelate who ever filled the see. He was nominated directly by
the pope, and consecrated by his holiness at Avignon. His chief glory is
that he allowed the splendour of the see in no wise to diminish, and he
kept up the Stapledon traditions of princely hospitality and well-doing.
His reputation of “grave, wise, and politick” seems to have been fairly
earned. As a descendant of the great ducal house of Burgundy, he had
lived much with princes and held the position of nuncio “at the courts of
all the mightiest princes of Christendom.” His election was carried out
in direct opposition to the wishes of the canons of Exeter, but a wise
choice had been made, and by his long episcopate of forty years he gained
honour for himself and good fortune for his people. He had to face many
difficulties at first that might well have appalled a weaker man. The
tragic death of Stapledon had terrified all men, the great work of that
giant intellect remained unfinished, and required some one of exceptional
energy to complete it fitly. Added to these difficulties, the episcopal
manors had been plundered and the accounts were terribly muddled.
Grandisson, luckily, was a man who looked upon difficulties as things to
be overcome. He applied to the members of his family for funds, and the
negotiations are to his family and subsequently to the diocese at large
for funds. The negotiations are interesting, for the borrower is the only
person who maintained his dignity unimpaired. With courteous pertinacity
and a fitting show of anger, he got the supplies he
[pg 11] needed. With
indomitable energy he managed to arrange in perfect order the confused
affairs of his diocese. Turning eagerly to the task of completing the
building of his church, he transformed the six west bays of the nave,
vaulting, aisles, west window, and north cloister. In spiritual and
temporal affairs he was equally busy. Twice at least he was the host of
royalty, once the Black Prince visited his diocese with the captive king
of France. The same illustrious warrior, shortly before his death, again
enjoyed the bishop’s hospitality.

In 1343 Grandisson was sent as ambassador to Rome, and the sound sense
he had shown at Exeter was equally apparent in the conduct of his
mission, so that it was written of him that “he did his message with much
wisdom and honour.” Certainly, few bishops have had so exalted a view of
the dignity and importance of the episcopal office, and none ever dared
to fight more boldly for his imagined rights. When the Archbishop Mepham
determined to make a personal visitation, Grandisson’s anger was kindled.
Gathering round him a body of armed retainers, he met the archbishop at
the north-west gate of the close. There might have been a bloody
conflict, for neither prelate was likely to give way. Fortunately, sober
counsels prevailed, and the quarrel was referred to the pope. His
holiness decided in Grandisson’s favour, and “the dispute did half break
Mepham’s heart, and the Pope, siding with the Bishop of Exeter, did break
the other half.” So writes Fuller, and the quaint sentence does not lack
authority, for the archbishop died shortly after the termination of the
quarrel.

Grandisson remembered his cathedral in his will. He bequeathed to his
successors his crozier and mitre, and to the diocese 2,000 marks. At his
funeral, in accordance with his instructions, a hundred poor persons were
clothed and money was distributed among the prisoners and the sick. He
remembered, too, the needs of the poorer clergy and the hospitals, while
to Pope Urban and Edward III. he left splendid legacies. His funeral, as
his life, was simple and economical. For his magnificent presents, his
gorgeous works on the structure of his church, were made possible by his
own simple, almost parsimonious manner of living. He was buried in the
chapel of St. Radegunde, but the tomb was destroyed in Elizabeth’s time,
and his ashes lie “no man knows where.”

Brantyngham, the next bishop, completed the cloisters, the [pg 12] east
window and west front. But, as Canon Freeman has said, “the rest of the
works of this and the following century are little else than petty
restorations; of course in a later and inferior style, and generally to
the detriment of the building.” But there is still much in the history of
the church and the see that deserves a passing notice. Under Brantyngham,
the old feud that Grandisson had finished so satisfactorily to himself,
began again. But the victory this time was with the archbishop. At
Topsham, a village not far from the city, the bishop’s servants attacked
savagely the archbishop’s mandatory. Full of zeal for the honour, as they
conceived it, of their own prelate, they made the wretched creature eat
the archbishop’s writ and seal. But the meal of parchment and wax did not
by any means settle the dispute. The bishop’s cause, indeed, was
irretrievably damaged, the king was furious, an appeal to the pope was
unsuccessful, and Brantyngham had to make full submission to the offended
primate. Henceforth the archbishop’s right of visitation was not opposed.
Had another than Grandisson been bishop in Mepham’s day the dispute would
never, probably, have arisen; for the archbishop was undoubtedly only
exercising his rights, such visitations being according to canon, and of
ancient usage.

The next bishop whose episcopate is important is Lacy, who glazed the
nave windows and raised the chapter house. He has, too, an unique claim
on our regard because of his saintly character. As yet no saint had made
the cathedral venerable, and the sentimental affection and profit which
saintly relics were wont to cause was still lacking. It is said that
Iscanus had contrived to get some relics of Becket for his cathedral, but
there was no local saint, and this want Lacy supplied. Yet the days of
his episcopacy were by no means absolutely calm. At the very moment of
his accession he involved himself in a dispute with the city corporation
as to the liberties of his cathedral. Nor was he, though meek and holy,
at all inclined to submit to any infringement of his prerogatives, even
when the transgressor happened to wear a crown. Indeed, he most
successfully protested against the conduct of Henry VI., who held a jail
delivery in the bishop’s hall. Two men were condemned to death, but the
bishop remonstrated so forcibly against this exercise of temporal
authority within the precincts of the sanctuary, that they were released.
As an author Lacy [pg 13] gained a considerable reputation. His
“Liber Pontificalis” is still preserved, his office in honour of Raphael
the Archangel was admired and used in many cathedrals and churches. When
he died miracles were performed at his tomb, and pilgrimages were
constantly made to it by the common people.

THE CHAPTER HOUSE (FROM BRITTON’S “EXETER”, 1826).

[pg 14]

From this time onward the architectural history of the cathedral
becomes less important. Its great periods may thus be summed up, 1107 to
1206 Warelwast and Marshall built the Norman church; 1257 to 1280
Bronscombe and Quivil began the Decorated work; 1292 to 1308 Bytton and
Stapledon completed the eastern part; 1327 to 1369 Grandisson and
Brantyngham completed the nave, west front, and cloister. The fifth and
last change is the introduction of Perpendicular work, chiefly noticeable
in the chapter house, the west screen, and the great east window. The day
of the great builders was waning fast. The old faith that inspired them
was dwindling, the attraction of national concerns was too great for
local effort. Moreover, the desire to make intricately beautiful, right
enough in itself, had vitiated, as it was bound to do, the taste of
architect and builder. The old Norman cathedrals, however rugged, were
imposing in their stern and simple strength. The desire for decoration
affected various transformations, which at first left the building more
beautiful and not less strong. But gradually the simplicity and strength
disappear altogether. Luckily, as we shall see, the great church of St.
Mary and St. Peter has suffered less than most buildings that have
undergone so many changes. “As it is, the church of Exeter is a
remarkable case of one general design being carried out through more than
a hundred years.” The church is Quivil’s design, and the variations,
though important, do not seriously detract from it.

The events of the next five hundred years belong more to the history
of the see, and even of England, than to the church. In the election of
George Neville (1458) we notice the immense value put on noble birth.
Only one other reason can be alleged as weighing with those responsible
for the choice. And this reason is so ridiculous as to be almost
incredible. None the less it had, doubtless, a good deal to do with
Neville’s election to the bishopric. He was not only a brother to the
great Earl of Warwick, but he early showed his intention of keeping up
the almost kingly traditions of his family. Here is an account of the
festivities that took place at Oxford after he had performed “his
exercises in the nave of St. Mary’s Church, as the custom now is, and
before was, for nobleman’s sons.” “Such entertainment was given for two
days space that the memory of [pg 15] man being not now able to produce, I
have thought it worth my pains to remember. On the first day therefore
were 600 messes of meat, and on the second 300 for the entertainment only
of scholars and certain of the Proceeders, relations and acquaintances.”
A later Oxford historian asserts that Neville was elected chancellor the
very next year “by an appreciative university!” It is not at all
unlikely, therefore, that this display of hospitality had something to do
with his being chosen bishop, as a fitting successor to the office once
filled by Grandisson. For four years after his election he was unable,
owing to his youth, to be consecrated. But by one of those ecclesiastical
scandals, which seem not to have annoyed or astonished his
contemporaries, he was permitted to enjoy the temporalities of the see.
At the age of twenty-seven he was fully ordained bishop, and a few years
later was transferred to York. During the episcopate of his successor,
Bothe, the city was besieged by Perkin Warbeck. In 1495 Oliver King, who
was elected in 1492, was translated to the see of Bath and Wells, and to
him is due the rebuilding of the abbey church of Bath which was then
ruinous.

From 1504 to 1519 Oldham, a Lancashire man, was bishop. He built the
Oldham and Speke chapels.

Veysey, who succeeded him, lived during the reign of Henry VIII. His
courtly manners made him popular. In addition to his rich ecclesiastical
office, he became Lord President of Wales and tutor to the Princess Mary.
He founded the town of Sutton Coleshill, now Sutton Coldfield, and
introduced there the making of kersies. On this enterprise he spent the
larger part of his fortune. At the accession of Edward VI. he was left
undisturbed, though suspected of favouring the old religion. But when a
rising in favour of the unreformed church disturbed the western counties,
he was accused of participation in the movement, and resigned his charge.
But he retained the temporalities, and on Mary’s accession was
reinstated. But he was nearly 103 years old, and soon after died at his
town of Sutton Coleshill in 1555.

Miles Coverdale, the translator, with Tyndale, of the Bible, his
successor, was bishop for only two years. He was unpopular, although his
life was “most godly” and virtuous. But “the common people,” says Hoker,
“whose bottles would receive no new wine, could not brook or digest him,
for no other cause but because he was a preacher of
[pg 16] the Gospel, an enemy
to Papistry, and a married man.” This dislike is easily accounted for.
Exeter was very far from London, the new ideas travelled slowly, and the
west was staunchly conservative. As with many reformers, too, his zeal
was spoilt by indiscretion; the sternness of the Puritan militated
against his success, and people preferred the old errors more becomingly
supported. His successor, Turberville, was a man quite after the heart of
the people, and he won praise from Protestant and Catholic alike.

He was succeeded by William Alleyn, and as a result of Veysey’s
extravagance and Henry’s greed it may be noticed that, by royal charter,
the number of canons was limited to nine.

In 1627 the see was held by Joseph Hall, a man of great distinction.
Though too conciliatory to care greatly for Laud’s policy, he wrote a
justly famous “Defence of the Church of England and her doctrines.” After
his translation to Norwich he underwent a good deal of persecution, which
he himself has recorded, and was for six months a prisoner in the Tower.
He is buried in Higham parish church, his monument a skeleton holding “in
the right hand a bond to death sealed and signed, ‘Debemus morti nos
nostrique,’ and in his left the same bond torn and cancelled, with the
endorsement ‘Persolvit et quietus est.'” Fuller says of the famous
satirist that he was “not unhappy at controversies, more happy at
comments, very good in his characters, better in his sermons, best of all
in his meditations.”

John Gauden, who became bishop in 1660, was far more fortunate, though
probably not more happy. He does not seem to have been over scrupulous,
and his desire for “a good manger” is unpleasantly obvious. But as the
author of the ΕΙΚΩΝ
ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΗ he is remembered. The authorship
has been disputed, but Charles II. certainly recognized his claim, and
Clarendon believed his assertions about it. He was clever enough to have
written even a better book, and there is no sufficient ground for
depriving him of this honour. It is certain that he owed his preferment
to his reputed merit as its author; though, oddly enough, he had taken
the covenant and preached a notorious sermon against “pictures, images,
and other superstitions of popery.” But he publicly recanted, later, and
protested against the murder of the king, whose supposed last prayers and
meditations he was skilfully inventing. After
[pg 17] being in Exeter two
years he was removed to Worcester. But he had looked to become bishop of
Winchester, and it is said that his death was hastened by
disappointment.

Seth Ward, who followed him, had, as dean of Exeter, distinguished
himself by his zeal and courage. He drove from the cathedral precincts
the buyers and sellers who had encroached thereon, and the partition wall
that divided the cathedral was taken down at his request. During the
Commonwealth “the building which was now formally called ‘the late
cathedral church’ was divided by a brick wall into two places of worship,
known as East Peter’s and West Peter’s.” The east portion was used by the
Independents and the west by Presbyterians. Ward spent £20,000 on
redeeming the cathedral from the degradation it had suffered, and bought
an organ, “esteemed the best in England,” which cost him £2,000. He was
translated to Salisbury in 1667. He was a man of considerable ability and
was a founder of the Royal Society.

Sparrow succeeded to the see in 1667. During his episcopate the Grand
Duke Cosmo visited Exeter and wondered at the worthy bishop, his wife,
and his nine children. The Duke of Tuscany was spoken of in the local
reports as the Duke of Tuskey, and he received from the corporation a
gift of “£20, or thereabouts.” Sparrow, on his translation to Norwich,
was succeeded by Lamplugh, whose political acumen, at any rate, compels
admiration, if not respect. He fervently bade his flock rally round the
unfortunate James II, and then, posting to London, was rewarded by the
grateful king with the archbishopric of York. He then without any
compunction crowned William of Orange, King of England. But his smartness
availed little, “for within three years continuance of that high throne
of York he was summoned before an higher.” Macaulay has finely described
the entrance of the prince into the cathedral. “As he passed under the
gorgeous screen, that renowned organ, scarcely surpassed by any of those
which are the boast of his native Holland, gave out a peal of triumph. He
mounted the bishop’s seat, a stately throne, rich with the carving of the
fifteenth century. Burnet stood below, and a crowd of warriors and nobles
appeared on the right hand and on the left. The singers robed in white
sang the ‘Te Deum.’ When the chaunt was over Burnet read the Prince’s
declaration; but as soon as the first words were uttered, prebendaries
and singers crowded [pg 18] in all haste out of the choir. At the
close, Burnet, in a loud voice, cried, ‘God save the Prince of Orange,’
and many fervent voices answered ‘Amen.'” This is certainly the most
remarkable, as it is also the last, of the great historical events that
have happened under the shadow of the cathedral walls. There had been
nothing to compare with it since the day when Grandisson with his armed
retainers met Mepham at the close gate three hundred years before.
Offspring Blackall is the last bishop we need mention. He was a famous
preacher, and worked hard for the comfort and education of the indigent
classes. To him Exeter owes her charity schools.

Of the remaining bishops there is nothing of moment to record.

It has seemed wiser in this brief sketch to devote a paragraph to each
of those bishops who either architecturally or historically made their
episcopates events of national importance. The early bishops, especially,
busied themselves exceedingly in making beautiful their principal church.
It is by knowing something of their lives and times that one can best
appreciate their labours, and trace with intelligent interest the causes
of the splendid result to be studied minutely in the remaining chapters
of this book.

Moreover, all lovers of the great in art, all who love what is
beautiful, as all may with a little trouble, will not be sorry to have
even a passing acquaintance with those who have wrought so nobly. And
this short notice of the most famous of the bishops of Exeter proves that
they were for the most part chosen, not for their lineage, however
splendid, nor the favour they had gained as gracious courtiers, but for
their excellent lives, their plain living and high thinking, their taste
and learning, and for qualities which, if rarer now, were not common even
hundreds of years ago.
Table of
Contents
[pg 19]

THE FABRIC OF THE CATHEDRAL.
THE EXTERIOR.

Before examining the various details, it may be well to recall the
following facts, which have already been referred to. First, the
cathedral was Saxon and remained so for nearly seventy years; then came a
Norman bishop who pulled down the existing building and replaced it by
the foundations and towers of a finer one. For ninety-nine years,
sometimes languishingly, sometimes vigorously, the work continued: so
that by the end of Marshall’s episcopate (1206) Warelwast’s noble
ambition was realized. Between this date and 1280 the church was scarcely
touched, but a chapter house was built by Bishop Bruere “to God and the
Church of St. Mary and St. Peter, a sufficient area to make a Chapter
House in our garden near the Tower of St. John.” A third style, Early
English, was then introduced, to be followed by the almost complete
transformation of the entire building into the Decorated style. Following
on this we get some examples of Perpendicular work. Now, this series of
changes is noticeable in itself, and remarkable because it has not
affected the building in a way that might have been expected. The first
impression, indeed, that a view of the exterior gives one, is that it is
the result of one design, which is largely the case. It is only on closer
inspection that the remnants of the pre-decorated periods are visible.
“The Church,” as Professor Freeman neatly puts it, “grew up after one
general pattern, but with a certain advance in detail as the work went
westward.”

The second thing that strikes the visitor is that he has never seen a
church quite like it. “It forms a class by itself, and can be compared
with nothing save its own miniature at Ottery.”

Putting aside the Saxon cathedral of Leofric it is possible to trace
four distinct styles in what has been wisely called “the noblest monument
of religious zeal of our forefathers in the
[pg 20] west of England.”
But in discovering these the feeling of wonder increases as the building
is found to be not a mere jumble but a complete whole. Though it is
possible to date the separate parts of the edifice, and recognize the
varying forms of workmanship, the architects laboured with so clear an
understanding of a beautiful result to be attained, that there is no
appearance of patchwork.

The best views of the building are those to be got from a distance. In
some ways this is not without compensation; for the cathedral church was,
and is, not only splendid as a building, but the centre of the spiritual
life of the diocese. It is, therefore, appropriate that it should seem
most beautiful to the dwellers in the villages and hamlets beyond the
city, giving them, as it were, a kind of property in the building, which
they might not have felt had it been less visible. Nearing Exeter by
train, from the Plymouth side, the noble roof and towers are seen above
the red houses of the city. The site, indeed, was well chosen. Below the
hill on which the city stands are gardens gay with flowers and fair apple
orchards. Above, there is a blue sky richer and deeper than is usual in
England. On all sides but one stretches the beautiful Devonshire country,
meadow, hedgerow, and wooded hill. On that side the Exe flows rapidly,
broadening as it goes, towards the sea. Southward but a few miles, the
blue channel waters creep up against the yellow sand dunes. No cathedral,
not even Lincoln, boasts a more lovely and appropriate position. “In the
minds of all early Christians,” says Mr. Ruskin, “the church itself was
most frequently symbolized under the image of a ship,” There is no
country so saturated with traditions of the sea as Cornwall and Devon.
“Exe terra”—out of the earth—is sometimes declared to be the
derivation of the name Exeter. Maybe this was only the grateful jest of
some seaman who found himself, after the winter storms, gliding up the
quiet river with the city walls rising up before him. Yet the remembrance
of such western heroes as Raleigh and Drake, who bade their followers sit
well in order, and strike—

makes one realize how fit it is that the towers of the cathedral
should look across the country to the “deep waters,” and be to the
mariner as the masts of a vessel whereon was safety, however fierce the
storm.

[pg 21]

EXETER CATHEDRAL, FROM AN ENGRAVING BY DANIEL KING, c. 1650.

[pg 22]

THE CATHEDRAL—FROM THE SOUTH-EAST.

[pg 23]
From many parts of the surrounding country fine views may be obtained,
from Waddlesdown, Alphington Causeway, and many a canal and river
bank.

A closer view may seem at first disappointing. Every writer has echoed
Dr. Oliver’s regret that it should be surrounded “by dwelling-houses of
such disparate character.” But even a nearer survey is, with patience,
rewarded. The towers, exquisitely traceried windows, sculptured doorways,
and magnificent roof, easily persuade us to forget its mean
surroundings.

The Towers.—To many these will be the most interesting
portion of the building. The exterior of no other cathedral boasts so
unusual a feature. Their position is extraordinary and has given rise to
endless controversies. It has been suggested that they were meant to
stand as western towers, and that the building was to stand east of them,
and that, as an afterthought, they were converted into transepts. But
Canon Freeman, in his history,
3 dismisses this view as merely attractive.
They would certainly be more elaborate, he thinks, if they had been built
as western towers, but they have neither portal nor ornamental work.
Indeed, up to more than half their height they have very much the
appearance of fortresses. It may well be that they served as such in
Stephen’s time, for the northern one was severely battered. It differs
somewhat in detail from that on the south side, there being an
interlacing arcade half-way up, possibly being so rebuilt when the
devastation caused by the siege was being repaired. There are six stages
on each tower, but only the uppermost four are in any way ornamented.
These have blind arcades and window openings of circular form; but the
details differ slightly on each. The turrets at the angles of the
summits, and the battlements were added in the fifteenth century, but the
effect is not inharmonious, and the original details are well preserved.
According to an old seventeenth-century print, the north tower formerly
had an attic with a pyramidal roof. This was probably an addition when
the great bell was first hung (see p. 74). The effect of [pg 24] these
transeptal towers is so fine as to make us regret their rarity. A case in
which they were obviously imitated is to be seen in the fine parish
church of Ottery S. Mary, Devon. There are also most practical reasons in
their favour, and a consideration of them tends to increase one’s wonder
that they should not be found more frequently. In the first place it is
possible to get a continuous, uniform, stretch of vault, the roof being
broken by no central tower. Also the plan is simplified, and nave and
choir have more architectural continuity. Again, by building transeptal
towers and discarding the usual central tower, the interior escapes a
danger it is often hard to overcome, the difficulty of holding up the
central tower. It is quite possible that Warelwast was far-seeing enough
to anticipate this trouble. The histories of other cathedrals prove it to
be a very real one. In 1107 the tower of Winchester fell in. At Salisbury
the spire is still a constant source of anxiety, despite “a complex
arrangement of iron bands and ties,” which has been reinforced more than
once. The tower of Chichester collapsed in 1861. There is a legend of the
fall of a central tower at Christchurch Priory, and other warnings could
be cited, such as Hereford, Selby, Peterborough, and Wells.

Originally these two towers were cut off, by two arches underneath,
from the body of the church. But Quivil, wishing to enlarge the interior,
did so by “throwing the Tower spaces into it.”

The Roof is one of the most striking features of the building,
especially as it is seen from a distance. The long line of the ridge of
nave and choir, unbroken by a central tower, give it a unique distinction
amongst English cathedrals. The delicate cresting of fleurs-de-lis, and
the pinnacles which crown the supporting buttresses obviate any
impression of heaviness, and together with the long series of clerestory
windows, alike in form yet differing in their admirable tracery, give a
singular impression of beauty.

The North Porch.—This was the northern entrance of the
Norman church, and from the outside it is possible to trace the line
where the fifteenth-century front was added to the old structure. It is
decorated with seven canopied niches in the style of that period. These,
however, remained vacant until 1920, when they were filled with statues,
by Mr. H. Read of Exeter, representing the patron saints of England and
the Allies: St. George, St. Denys, St. Joseph; SS. Cyril and Methodius;
St. Vladimir, and St. Ambrose. The roof is vaulted, and on the central
boss is a finely-carved Agnus Dei. Within a recess of the eastern wall
are three headless figures, representing, in the centre, the Crucifixion,
St. Mary and St. John standing on either side. Over the inside doorway is
a niche that probably once held a figure of the Virgin.[pg 25]

THE NORTHERN TOWER.

[pg 26]

EXETER CATHEDRAL—THE WEST FRONT.

[pg 27]
The West Front is one of the features which gives a peculiar
character to this cathedral. In the wealth of imagery on the projecting
screen which forms the lowest stage of the front it is second only to
Wells amongst English cathedrals. The actual west wall of the church is
the work of Bishop Grandisson, who formed on the south side of the
central doorway the small chapel of St. Radegunde as a burial place for
himself. The greater part of the end wall of the nave is filled by a
large window with remarkably beautiful tracery in its head. The date must
be about 1350. Above this is a battlemented parapet sloped at each end to
follow the lines of the aisle-roofs. Above this parapet appears the gable
of the main roof in which is inserted a triangular window, with elegant
tracery, lighting the space between the vault and outer roof. At the apex
of the gable is a niche containing a small statue of St. Peter.

The screen, which forms the lowest stage of this front, must have been
finished in Brantyngham’s time, though it seems probable that it was
designed if not begun by Grandisson. It contains eighty-eight figures, in
three rows, representing angels, warriors, kings, and saints. Their
costume and armour are characteristic of the fashions of Richard II.’s
reign. The lowest row consists of angelic figures each sustaining a
triple pilaster with capitals. On these capitals stand the statues of the
second row, a long line of knights and kings, above which are the angels
and apostles of the third row. Above the third row stand two figures,
said to represent Athelstan and Edward the Confessor. The former once
drove out the Britons from the city; the latter, as we know, founded the
bishopric.

This group of statues has been the subject of a monograph by Miss E.K.
Prideaux, who shows that the intention was to symbolize the Heavenly
Jerusalem, where angels, saints, and monarchs unite to honour the
enthroned Saviour and His Blessed Mother, who, as representative of the
Church Triumphant, is [pg 28] being crowned by her Son. The
Coronation of the Virgin was depicted in the central group immediately
over the great doorway, the figures being those of St. Peter, Our Lady,
Our Lord, and St. Paul. At some unknown date the statue of the Virgin was
destroyed, and a figure intended to represent Richard II was substituted
in 1818. Two other figures, assigned to James the Less and King William
I, are modern reproductions by Alfred Stevens; some new heads were also
added. Many circumstances have combined with the action of time to injure
these sculptures: but the general effect is rich if somewhat heavy. Above
the screen is a platform, from which the bishop probably blessed the
people, and the minstrels welcomed with song the approach of royal or
illustrious visitors.

The three doorways in the screen are worthy of notice, being richly
decorated. That on the south side is the most beautiful, and contains two
fine pieces of sculpture, one generally declared to be an angel appearing
to Joseph in a dream, the other certainly recording the Adoration of the
Shepherds. The central porch is decorated with sculptured foliage, and
the Crucifixion is exhibited on the central boss of the groined roof
tracery.[pg 29]

PORTALS OF WEST FRONT.

[pg 30]

THE NAVE, FROM THE SOUTH TRANSEPT (FROM BRITTON’S “EXETER,” 1826).

THE FABRIC OF THE CATHEDRAL.
THE INTERIOR.

[pg 31]
Fine as is the exterior, the interior of the building is quite as
beautiful. Restoration of an unusually careful and discreet style has
done much to revive the deteriorated splendours of the place. Sixty years
ago the nave was filled with hideous and cumbersome pews, and such work
as had been done towards keeping the place in repair was in the worst
possible taste. But a change has been wrought of the happiest kind in
recent years, so that no cathedral in the country can boast a more
admirable interior.

It has been the custom to deplore the lack of elevation, and its
lowness has compelled comparisons with the cathedrals of France. But this
objection is, surely, rather trivial. For though the long vaulted roof,
uninterrupted the whole length of the building, might tend to take away
from the appearance of height, the work on the roof itself, the delicate
ornaments on capitals and windows, do much to atone for this effect. To
the ordinary visitor, it may safely be asserted, lack of height will only
be obvious when pointed out to him.

The Nave.—Little of the Norman masonry is now to be seen,
yet it is clear that when Marshall completed Warelwast’s design he found
the nave finished. To quote Canon Freeman, whose book, too technical for
the general public, is of incalculable value to the student: “On the
interior face of both north and south walls of the nave aisles,
disturbances of masonry occurring at regular intervals indicate the
position of a series of Norman pilasters, the base of one of them having
recently been found in situ beneath the stone seat. Outside, and
corresponding to the position of each several pilaster, may be observed
either flat buttresses of Norman form and masonry, or else traces of
their removal. These remains, linking together the obviously Norman
towers and the massive west wall, point to
[pg 32] the conclusion that
the Norman cathedral, as Marshall found it, included the entire
nave.”

When the changes began, the Fabric Rolls, if they “do not entirely
desert us,” give us but meagre help, so that the exact date and cost of
each detail is only to be guessed at. Stapledon probably intended, as
early as 1325, to begin the work of recasting the nave. In that year he
made purchases of “15 great poplar trees bought for scaffolds, and 100
alder trees.” Further entries tell us of seven and eightpence worth of
timber “bought by the Bishop at London,” and “48 great trees from
Langford.” The work hitherto attempted by Stapledon did not demand an
outlay of this kind; so, though Grandisson gets the honour of having
finished the nave, something is due to Stapledon for having given the
initiative. The large balances of the preceding nine years had left a
great sum of money in the latter’s hands, and a donation of Stapledon’s
further increased that balance by the substantial sum of £600. In
January, 1333, is a record of William Canon’s bill for marble he had been
commissioned to furnish. He had agreed to supply the Purbeck pillars for
the nave, receiving £10 16s. for eleven large columns, and 5s. a-piece
for bases and capitals. This is one of the most interesting items we have
of the building and cost of the cathedral, and occurs fortunately at a
time when such information is unusually scanty. In addition to the
above-mentioned Purbeck marble, stone from the quarries of Caen in
Normandy, and other places nearer home, was procured in large quantities.
In 1338 the bishop gave permission to the Dean and Chapter to obtain from
his agents at Chudleigh “twelve suitable oaks from his wood there.” About
1350 the building of the nave was completed. It was extensively restored
in recent years under the guidance of Sir Gilbert Scott. The Purbeck
columns had fallen into a most dilapidated state, and were carefully
repaired, the material used being obtained from those spots which had
supplied the original builders.

The view of the nave as one enters the west door is most impressive.
Its full height of seventy feet is not dwarfed by the unhindered stretch
of roof. The groined and ribbed roof itself is of marvellous beauty and
springs from slender vaulting shafts, of which the bosses are exquisitely
carved with a strange mixture of religious and legendary figures, foliage
and animals. The artists seem to have ransacked the whole universe for
subjects, and to have interpreted their ideas with great cunning. The
corbels that support the vaulting shafts are equally elaborately
carved.[pg 33]

THE NAVE, LOOKING WEST.

[pg 34]

CORBELS AND BOSSES (FROM BRITTON’S “EXETER,” 1826).

(2) Virgin and Child. (3) Minstrel and tumbler. (4) Coronation of the
Virgin. (5) Murder of S. Thomas (Becket), from Nave. (6) From Lady
Chapel. (7) From Choir. (8) and (11) Heads popularly identified with
Edward III and Q. Philippa. (10) The Virgin and her Coronation. (See
Prideaux and Shafto, “Bosses and Corbels of Exeter Cathedral.”)

[pg 35]
They consist of figures and foliage, and the variety of subjects
chosen is no less surprising than the skill the artists have shown in the
realization of their ideas. Whether they are peculiar to Exeter or not,
it may be safely said that one could not easily find their equals either
in design or execution. The subjects treated are too numerous for
detailed treatment in this place, but the carving of vines and acorns and
oakleaves will be readily admired.

THE MINSTRELS’ GALLERY.

The nave has seven bays, and the arcades are supported by clustered
pillars of Purbeck marble, showing various tints of blue and grey. There
are sixteen shafts in each pier corresponding with the eight subordinate
mouldings in each pair of arches, and the diagonal position of each
cluster adds much to its graceful appearance. In the retro-choir there
are earlier examples of this kind of pier, showing how the builders
experimented with the grouping of the shafts before they attained the
perfect proportions of the pillars in the nave and choir. It seems that
they utilized the Norman pillars as the central core round which to group
the Purbeck shafts. The triforium, in groups of four arches, is unusually
low, and rests on small clustered [pg 36] columns, broken in
one place only on the north side to make way for the Minstrels’
Gallery.

The Minstrels’ Gallery.—This is the most beautiful
gallery of its kind to be found in England, its twelve decorated niches
containing figures of musicians. The musical instruments represented
include the cittern, bagpipe, hautboy, crowth, harp, trumpet, organ,
guitar, tambour, and cymbals, with two others which are uncertain. The
tinted figures of the angels, standing out against an orange-coloured
background—each in a separate niche with an elaborately carved
canopy—playing upon the various instruments, are admirably carved
and most graceful in form and arrangement. The two niches on either side
of the gallery contained figures of St. Mary and St. Peter; the niches
are supported by corbelled heads of Edward III and Queen Philippa. Edward
III created the Black Prince Duke of Cornwall in 1337, and made the city
of Exeter part of the duchy. “The city,” according to Izacke, “being held
of the said duke, as parcel of the dutchy, by the fee farm rent of twenty
pounds per ann.” To this connexion has been traced the erection of the
gallery, for such duchies “were territorial realities,” and the prince
would be received by minstrels chaunting in the gallery whenever he paid
a visit to his feudal dependency. It is asserted that it was first used
after the battle of Poictiers, when the Black Prince brought with him to
England, visiting Exeter en route for London, the captured French
King. But Professor Freeman thinks the Duke did not pay a visit to Exeter
at that time, and that local tradition refers really to a later date when
“he came home as a sick man” not long before his death.

The lofty character of the clerestory above the gallery, and set
somewhat farther back, is remarkable. The tracery of all the windows is
of the best type of the fourteenth century and is unrivalled by that of
any other English cathedral of similar date. In their main features the
opposite windows are alike, though they vary in detail.[pg 37]

BAYS OF NAVE, WITH THE MINSTRELS’ GALLERY (FROM BRITTON’S “EXETER,” 1826).

[pg 38]

THE “PATTESON” PULPIT.

St. Radegunde’s Chapel.—On the south side of the main
entrance and within the thickness of the western wall is the chapel of
St. Radegunde, one of the most interesting in the cathedral. As early as
1220 a deed belonging to the Chapter makes mention of this chapel “within
St. Peter’s cemetery,” and is dated in the mayoralty of one Turbest and
attested by the then bishop, Simon de Apuliâ. Grandisson, in accordance
with the custom of his day, while completing the work of transforming the
cathedral, looked out for a suitable place of burial for himself. He
chose this chapel, and in 1350 the Fabric Rolls contain a reference to
the glazing of the windows and the better securing of them with nine bars
of iron. In accordance with a clause in his will, “Corpus vero meum volo
quod sepeliatur extra ostium occidentale Ecclesiae Exon. ita celeriter
sicut fieri poterit,” his remains were placed under the low arch in the
east of the chapel. Here they lay for many years, but in the later years
of Elizabeth, apparently without creating any [pg 39] public indignation,
his tomb was rifled and his ashes scattered to the “four winds.” There
seems to be no good reason why religious fanaticism should have caused
the tomb of so great and good a man to be despoiled. Two interesting
details are the carved figure of Christ on the roof and the holes in the
stones from which the lamps were formerly hung.

St. Edmund’s Chapel, in the north-west corner of the nave, was
part of the Norman church, and was incorporated in his new work by Bishop
Grandisson. In it is a large font of modern Gothic style, presented in
the nineteenth century by Archdeacon Bartholomew.

The Font.—At the south-west side of the nave stands the
chalice-shaped font of white marble, purposely made in 1644 for the
baptism of Henrietta Anne, youngest child of Charles I, afterwards
Duchess of Orleans, who was born in Exeter during the Parliamentary wars.
The font is said to have been made in a fortnight, which may account for
the inferior character of the sculpture. But if not of artistic merit, it
is certainly of historic interest, and after being set aside for some
years, was replaced in its present position in 1891, and is now always
used for baptisms.

The Patteson Pulpit was placed in the nave in 1877. It is of
Mansfield stone, and is a beautiful example of modern sculpture. The
panels represent the Martyrdom of St. Alban, the embarkation of St.
Boniface and his companions for Germany, and the natives of Nukapu,
Melanesia, placing the body of Bishop Patteson in a canoe. The Martyred
Bishop is shown wrapped in a native mat, a relic still preserved in his
family.

MONUMENTS IN THE NAVE

The great west window was filled with stained glass in 1904 in
commemoration of Dr. Temple, Bishop of Exeter 1869, of London 1885, and
in 1896 Archbishop of Canterbury. Figures in the lower lights represent
the most notable Bishops of Exeter from Leofric to Frederick Temple.

The monument under the west window commemorates services and losses of
the 1st Battalion of the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry, which, as the
32nd Regiment, greatly distinguished itself during the Sepoy revolt in
India in 1857-8.

[pg 40]
On the north-west is a mural tablet with medallion portrait
commemorating Richard Blackmore, the author of Lorna Doone,
1825-1900. The three lights of the small window above are filled with
stained glass in connexion with this memorial. The corresponding window
on the south side was filled with stained glass by Dean Cowie.

The largest monument in the north aisle is that to the memory of
officers and men of the 9th Lancers who fell during long and
distinguished service in India.

Farther on is a large brass, of no particular merit, to the memory of
the men of the 2nd Battalion of the North Devon Regiment who fell in the
Afghan War of 1880-81. It is surmounted by two regimental flags.

Above a mural tablet to Lieutenant G.A. Allen is a window of stained
glass erected to the memory of the 11th Earl of Devon. The colour scheme
is particularly good, and the design, representing Jacob’s dream, is not
unsuccessful.

A plain tablet to the memory of Samuel Sebastian Wesley, the famous
musician, is the only other monument in the aisle of general
interest.

In the same aisle have recently been placed the colours of those
battalions of the Devons who served in the great European War,
1914-18.

To complete the examination of the nave we must cross to the south
aisle, in the first bay of which is the ancient doorway, probably built
by Bishop Bruere, leading into the cloister. At the end of the aisle is
the monument of Colonel John Macdonald, who died in 1831, a son of the
celebrated Flora Macdonald. The most eastern window of the aisle is
filled with stained glass representing four bishops of the Courtenay
family. Peter Courtenay, Bishop of Exeter, will be recognized as he holds
the great “Peter” bell, his gift to the cathedral, which hangs in the
north tower. He is the bishop alluded to by Shakespeare (Richard
III., Act iv, Sc. 4):

After the accession of Henry VII., he was translated to
Winchester.[pg 41]

THE NAVE, LOOKING EAST.

[pg 43]
Formerly there was a Courtenay chantry in the last bay of this aisle,
corresponding with Bishop Brantyngham’s chantry on the north side. These
became ruinous and were removed early in the nineteenth century. The
Courtenay tomb in the south transept is entirely a restoration. The
effigies represent Sir Hugh Courtenay, 2nd Earl of Devon, and Margaret de
Bohun, his wife. The great brass of their son, Sir Peter Courtenay, also
formerly in the chantry, is now in the south choir aisle: it has been
sadly injured by being trodden under foot for many hundred years, and is
now protected by matting. He was standard bearer to Edward III. and
Richard II., and one of the first Knights of the Garter.

The centre window of the south nave aisle is filled with stained glass
in memory of those of the Devon Regiment who served in the South African
War, 1899-1901. The tablets with their names are in St. Edmund’s Chapel.
Their flags hang on either side of the window.

The large brass tablet, though, like too many of the memorials in the
nave, unnecessarily large and far from meritorious in design, is not
without interest. It is to the memory of Major-General Howard
Elphinstone, V.C., who was drowned off Ushant in 1890.

Above a tablet of brass to Hugh, 2nd Earl of Devon, and his wife, is a
window erected by Sir Edwin Watkin to the memory of Thomas Latimer. The
small window to the left, erected by Dean Cowie in memory of his wife,
should be noticed.

North Transept.—We have already seen that the two great
towers of the cathedral were in their nature transeptal from the
beginning. But they were quite separated from the body of the church, the
arches connecting them being filled in with strongly built masonry,
forming a complete wall. But Quivil, wishing to enlarge the interior of
the building, took down these walls, and he set about altering the arches
and converting them into the same Decorated style to match this work in
the rest of the building. He also altered and transformed the Norman
chapels that projected on the east side of each transept. In the north
transept one window and two narrow doorways still betray their Norman
origin. The open galleries in each transept are connected by a passage
with the clerestory. This, too, is Quivil’s work, and his windows in the
two chapels [pg 44] of St. John and St. Paul, easily
distinguishable by their wheel-shape, are interesting.

Here is Chantry’s fine statue of the Devonshire artist Northcote, and
a tablet to the memory of the men and officers of the 20th (Devon)
Regiment who fell in the Crimea. Visitors will notice with interest a
fairly successful mural painting representing the resurrection, the
soldiers in armour being drawn with considerable spirit.

Sylke Chantry is in the north transept. Sylke was a person of
considerable importance in his day, and one who deserved and obtained no
little honour from his contemporaries. He administered the affairs of the
diocese as vicar-general during the absence of Bishop Courtenay, and also
during that of Bishop Fox. In 1499 he was made precentor, and held that
office till his death. The priests, grateful for the efforts he had made
to further their comfort, decided to keep his obit. The abbot and convent
of St. Mary of Cleeve, in Somersetshire, willing to show their sense of
obligation to him and Canon Moore, gave yearly to the Dean and Chapter
the sum of £6 13s. 4d. to be spent in celebrating
their anniversary. Sylke’s tomb represents a very ghostly figure with the
epitaph, “Sum quod eris, fueram quod es, pro me, precor, ora.” The
chantry is in the style of the later Gothic, and is one of those “final
touches” to the cathedral Archdeacon Freeman esteems so happily imparted
to it. The ancient works of the thirteenth-century clock, upon the north
wall, have been placed in this chantry, the machinery being in motion
though it does not now work any part of the actual clock. The various
parts are of different dates; the oldest wheel has been working more or
less regularly for about 700 years. The dial represents the sun and moon
revolving round the earth in the centre, the varying phases of the moon
being indicated.

St. Paul’s Chapel is on the east side of the north transept.
Attributed to the time of Marshall or his immediate predecessors. On the
tiles are the arms of Henry III.’s brother, Richard of Cornwall, who was
elected King of the Romans. It is used as a vestry for the lay choral
vicars.

South Transept.—Opening from the east wall is the
Chapel of St. John the Baptist. It corresponds with that of St.
Paul in the north transept. Some of the glass in the windows was placed
there at the restoration of 1870. The screen dividing it from the
transept is Oldham’s work. The chapel is now furnished for private
meditation and prayer.[pg 45]

THE TRANSEPT, NORTH, SHOWING THE ORGAN AND CLOCK.

[pg 47]
Chapel of the Holy Ghost.—This, one of the most ancient
parts of the cathedral, lies between the south tower and chapter house.
It occupies the place of the passage known as the slype in monastic
churches. The plain stone barrel roof should be noted. It is now used as
the choristers’ vestry.

The south transept contains a very interesting collection of
monuments.

Monuments in South Transept.—On the east wall a shallow
recess, in which are set some fragments of sculpture, is traditionally
described as the tomb of Leofric, first Bishop of Exeter. Hoker thus
tells the story: “This Leofricus died an. 1073, and was buried in the
cemetery or churchyard of his own church, under a simple or broken marble
stone; which place, by the since enlarging of his church is now within
the South Tower of the same, where of late, anno 1568, a new monument was
erected to the memory of so good, worthy & noble a personage, by the
industry of the writer hereof but at the charges of the Dean &
Chapter.”

In the corner at the south-east is the grave of Bishop John the
Chaunter, who died in 1191. He was for thirty years precentor of the
cathedral, and was consecrated bishop by Baldwin, Archbishop of
Canterbury, “preacher and pilgrim of the Crusade,” and a native of
Exeter. Bishop John assisted at the coronation of Richard I. He held the
see for six years.

Sir Peter Carew, whose mural tablet is a conspicuous feature, was
buried at Waterford in Ireland. He is one of the most distinguished
members of an ancient western family. On the Whitsunday of 1549, the
village of Samford Courtenay rose in revolt against the new prayer-book
that Edward VI. had ordered to be used in the churches, and the whole
diocese speedily followed the lead. The people swore that “they would
keep the old and ancient religion as their forefathers before them had
done.” Sir Gawain Carew, Sir Peter Carew, and Sir Thomas Dennis, the
sheriff, were busy in stemming the tide of rebellion. Efforts at
compromise were useless. The people bitterly demanded the old religion,
and called the new form of worship “a Christian game,” while the
Cornishmen declared that they, since “certain of us understand no
English, utterly refuse the new English.” Early in July the malcontents
[pg
48] set siege to Exeter. The wealth of the civic dignitaries
stimulated the besiegers, who summoned the city to surrender three times,
vowing that “they would enter by force and take the spoil of it,” were
their demands refused. There was discontent and plotting within the
walls, and food gave out. Many were eager to let in the rebels, and Hoker
records that “but two days before the delivery of the city,” the
malcontents paraded the streets, crying out: “Come out these heretics and
twopenny bookmen! Where be they! By God’s wounds and blood we will not be
pinned in to serve their turn: we will go out and have in our neighbours;
they be honest good and godly men.” But the principal citizens, though
nurtured in the old faith, held out grimly for the king. The siege was
raised by John, Lord Russell, whom Sir Peter had hastily summoned from
Hinton St. George, in Somersetshire. Food was supplied to the city “by
the special industry and travels of a thousand Welshmen under Sir William
Herbert.” Sir Peter, on his arrival in London, was threatened with
hanging by the Lord Protector “as having caused the commotion by burning
the barns at Crediton. He pleaded the king’s letter under his hand and
privy signet.” But he escaped with difficulty, though he obtained from
Lord Russell the lands of Winislacre as a reward. Later on he opposed
Queen Mary’s marriage with the King of Naples, and as Fuller puts it:
“This active gentleman had much adoe to expedite himself, and save his
life, being imprisoned for his compliance with Sir Thomas Wyate.” He
lived an active, reckless life to the last, closing his career by some
“signal service” in Ireland. He was a brother of the Earl of Totnes. The
handsome Elizabethan monument is to Sir John Gilbert, brother of the more
famous Humphrey, and his wife, Elizabeth Chudleigh. He was one of the
merchant adventurers and a half-brother of Raleigh. His relations with
Exeter were very friendly, the merchants being keenly interested in
maritime discoveries, for they hoped in far away Asia to get a new market
for their cloth.

Heroes of later days are not forgotten in this gallant company, and a
tablet on the east wall commemorates the men of the 32nd Regiment
(Cornwall Light Infantry) who fell in the Indian Mutiny. The colours of
the regiment show the names of Waterloo and Lucknow.[pg 49]

INTERIOR OF THE NAVE IN THE LAST CENTURY (FROM A PRINT IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM).

[pg 51]
The Choir Screen.—This is the work of Bishop Stapledon,
and was probably completed about 1324. The Dean and Chapter anticipated
the admiration which this screen would cause in after ages, and we read
that they presented William Canon, the executor of the marble work, “£4,
out of their courtesy.” High above the screen, as we learn from the
Fabric Rolls, the rood with Mary and John rested on an iron bar.

CHOIR SCREEN, LOOKING N.E. (FROM BRITTON’S “EXETER,” 1826).

The paintings within the panels above the beautifully carved spandrils
have little interest or merit, though it is thought that [pg 52] they date
from the same period as the screen itself. It is difficult, however, to
believe that they can be so old, or that such good and bad work could
belong to the same period. James I. introduced into the foliage of the
spandrils the rose and thistle; but this uncalled-for emendation was
summarily removed in the year 1875. The side arches of the screen were at
one period filled up with thick walls, and two strong doors barred the
arch of entrance, but this was altered by the restorers in 1875.

The Organ was originally built by John Loosemore about 1665. In
its existing form it is an enlarged reconstruction by Messrs. Willis, the
old instrument being incorporated in it as a choir-organ. The organ case,
which was an elegant specimen of Renaissance woodwork, has also undergone
alteration and renovation.

The Choir.—If the chief glory with regard to the exterior
of the cathedral remains undoubtedly with the designer and builder of the
great towers, the choir, the work of Bytton and Stapledon, is no less
certainly the supreme glory of the interior. The Norman choir reached no
farther than the third bay, counting from the choir screen. Traces
recently discovered seem to prove that it had an apsidal termination.
Bishop Marshall, in completing Warelwast’s work, added four bays and
destroyed the triple apse. It is also possible that, as the transition
period to Early English was in its birth, some of the vaulting was
pointed. Bytton converted the choir as left by Marshall into the
Decorated style, inspired to the work by the success which had attended
Quivil’s efforts in the easternmost bay of the nave. The whole
work—the transformation of the choir with its aisles—took
about fifteen years to complete, the speed and skill with which it was
accomplished being due to the fact that the task was not entirely in the
hands of one body of labourers. It seems to have been divided into two
portions, at which the builders worked simultaneously. Admirable as
Quivil’s work in the nave had been, that of Bytton in the choir is an
improvement. Doubtless he had learnt something from the difficulties his
predecessor encountered, and knew how to avoid them. At any rate, he
pushed forward the work with great vigour and boldness. He formed his
pillars of horizontal sections of Purbeck marble from nine to fifteen
inches thick: five boutelles on each side presenting “the appearance of
twenty-five shafts bound in one.” In the pavement of the choir more than
ten thousand tiles were used. For the vaulting of the choir, also his
work, though the honour due to him has till lately been denied, he
procured quantities of Portland stone. Material for bases and capitals
was imported also from Portland: the entry in the Fabric Rolls runs: “For
the purchase of 18 great blocks of stone at Portland for the keys or
bosses, together with 60 bases and capitals, including carriage by sea £4
16 8.” The colouring of the keystones was due to Stapledon in the first
year of his episcopate.[pg 53]

THE CHOIR, LOOKING WEST.

[pg 54]

THE CHOIR BEFORE RESTORATION
(FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER CHARLES WILD).

[pg 55]
Between 1870 and 1875 the choir underwent very extensive repairs. For
the most part they were successful, and if in particular instances
objection may be taken, it would be hyper-criticism to detract from their
value. Wherever possible, the stone was taken from the quarries used by
the first builders. The Purbeck marbles especially had severely suffered,
and the mouldings and bases ruthlessly destroyed for the better
accommodation of the wainscoting to the stalls; moreover, the differences
in the nature of the stone were rendered null by a hideous yellow wash
with which they had been lavishly besprinkled. During the restoration the
corbels and roof-bosses were cleaned and carefully repaired. These,
though of the same character as those in the nave, are both richer and
more varied in design and more skilfully carved.

The Choir Stalls.—The stalls are entirely modern, and the
work of Sir Gilbert Scott. Originally, no doubt, they were similar in
style to the bishop’s throne, one of the most admirable of Stapledon’s
additions to the cathedral. They were probably surmounted with canopies,
with an open arcade of stone behind them. The modern designer has so
constructed his stalls as to bear out this idea, since as far as possible
they are meant to replace the earlier ones. The misericords of Bishop
Bruere have been placed beneath the seats. These misericords have not
their equal in England. They are richly carved, representing foliage,
wild beasts, an elephant, men fighting, others playing musical
instruments, and legendary monsters. The introduction of an elephant
proves that these misericords were not completed until after Bruere’s
death in 1244; the elephant having been first brought into England in
1255. There is also a representation of a knight in a swan-boat, showing
that the legend of Lohengrin was known in England.

[pg 56]
The Reredos.—This, too, is modern work, and most
successfully has Earp carried out the designs of Sir Gilbert Scott. It is
of alabaster, inlaid with agate, carnelian, and jasper. In the centre of
the three compartments into which it is divided is the Ascension, the
other two groups representing the Descent of the Holy Ghost and the
Transfiguration. As the work has met with considerable opposition, it is
well to remember Archdeacon Freeman’s words, he having the best of all
rights to speak. “With its delicate canopies of alabaster, and sculptures
wrought in bold relief, its inlay of choice marbles, its redundance of
costly stones, and its attendant angel figures, it enshrines a multitude
of ideas well harmonizing with its place and purpose.” The ancient altar
of Stapledon’s has long since disappeared. This was mostly of silver, the
mensa only being of marble. In the monument of Leofric, erected by Hoker,
the historian, was found a large slab of marble marked with crosses. This
possibly was a portion of Stapledon’s altar destroyed by an Order in
Council, 1550 (see below, p. 69).

The Bishop’s Throne was Stapledon’s work, erected in 1316. It
is notable for not having a single nail in it, being entirely fixed
together with wooden pegs. This “magnificent sheaf of carved oak,” as it
has been called, rises to the height of fifty-seven feet. The carving
shows foliage and finials of great beauty, and beneath the canopies are
angel figures bearing the insignia of the Bishop’s office. On one side
the chalice and Host of blessing; on the other, the bell, book, and
candle that conveyed the Bishop’s curse.

At the date of the 1870 restorations the throne was in a very
defective state. It had been covered with brown paint, and the lower
panels were not a little damaged. There are traces of ancient colouring
still, but only the paintings at the base have been renovated, which
commemorate the quartette of famous bishops, Warelwast, Quivil,
Stapledon, and Grandisson, and were, no doubt, somewhat later than the
throne itself. Originally the niches of the tabernacle work were filled
with figures, but these have disappeared.[pg 57]

THE CHOIR, LOOKING EAST.

[pg 58]

SEDILIA IN THE CHOIR.

[pg 59]
The Sedilia.—It is natural after an examination of the
throne in wood to turn to Stapledon’s equally splendid achievement in
stone. The sedilia were most carefully restored under Sir Gilbert Scott.
There are three arches, each ten feet high, of openwork, above which is a
rich display of tabernacle work. The niches once contained statues, for
the sockets are visible. The carving, extraordinarily skilful and
intricate, consists of leaves and animals’ heads. Like much of the
carving in the cathedral that is attributed to this date, it was the work
of De Montacute, a French artist. The seats are divided by metal shafts,
the terminal divisions being supported by lions. It has been contended
that these lions are of considerably earlier date than the rest of the
work; but there is no evidence to go upon except a fancied resemblance to
Early English work. There seems no reason why Stapledon should not have
chosen lions as a fitting decoration, and carved them in a style more or
less traditional. Three small heads are carved on the back of the
sedilia, the centre one being that of Leofric, and on either side the
heads of Edward the Confessor and his wife Eadgytha. It will be
remembered that they were present, with their whole court, at the
installation of Leofric. The central seat is known as Leofric’s stone, on
which he is traditionally said to have sat, and there is an entry in the
year 1418 recording that twenty pence was paid “for writing on the stone
of my Lord Leofric.”

On the triforium arcading, just over the sedilia, the heads of
Leofric, Edward, and Eadgytha are repeated.

The decoration of the choir vault is by Messrs. Clayton and Bell. The
attempt to give life to the roofing by gilding the bosses and painting
the ribs red and blue and gold, while the ground colour is a dull white,
is not without merit.

Pulpit in Choir of Devon marbles and alabaster, erected in
1871. The beautifully carved panels represent our Lord blessing the
children; the Sermon on the Mount; St. Peter preaching on the day of
Pentecost; St. Paul at Athens; and St. Paul before Festus.

The East Window.—Henry de Blakeborn, a canon of the
cathedral, enlarged “this Gable window in the Perpendicular style.”
Although it was damaged a good deal in Cromwell’s time, much of the old
glass remains. The shields on the upper part of the window are modern,
but those at the bottom are those of the first bishops and benefactors.
The three centre figures in the lowest row were added in Brantyngham’s
day.[pg 60]

PULPIT IN THE CHOIR.

ST. JAMES’ CHAPEL
(DRAWN BY H.P. CLIFFORD).

St. James’ Chapel.—In the aisle on the south of the
choir. In the north aisle immediately opposite is the companion chapel of
St. Andrew. It will be noticed how frequently one part balances another
throughout the building. These chapels are partly Marshall’s work. When
the apsidal chapels were pulled down at the time the apse was destroyed,
Marshall built the present chapels of St. James and St. Andrew.
Bronscombe altered them considerably, and the first item in the Fabric
Rolls is, “for 3 windows for St. James Chapel 8s. 9d.; for
glass 16s.” This is the last year of Bronscombe’s episcopate, and
proves he had, at any rate, almost finished the renovation of this
chapel. The most noticeable features are the upper chamber, and the
magnificent but half-destroyed monument popularly known [pg 61] as
Leofric’s tomb. The chapel contained two altars, one dedicated to St.
James and the other probably to St. Thomas of Canterbury.

Nearly opposite this chapel are the effigies of two knights, dating
from the fourteenth century; their cross-legged attitude leading to the
erroneous notion that they were Crusaders. They probably represent
Humphrey de Bohun, father of Margaret, wife of Hugh Courtenay, 1332, and
Sir Arthur Chichester of Raleigh, 1301. Old histories describe armorial
bearings painted on their shields, but these have long since
perished.

St. Andrew’s Chapel.—Opposite to, and corresponding with
that of St. James’. It was Marshall’s work originally, like its fellow
chapel, being a substitute for one of the old apsidal chapels of the
Norman choir. Stapledon completed the renovations so as to make it a
parallel to Bronscombe’s restored chapel of St. James. The detached
shafts are clearly an imitation of the earlier bishop’s work. The chapel
contains an upper chamber, formerly used as a muniments room. The chapel
originally contained altars to St. Andrew and St. Catherine. In 1305 is
an order of Bytton’s that chantry services should be held here for Andrew
de Kilkenny, late dean, and others. Among the names we find that of Henry
de Kilkenny, who was at the time of Bytton’s order still living, and a
canon of the cathedral.[pg 62]

ST. GEORGE’S CHAPEL (OR SPEKE’S CHANTRY). DRAWN BY H.P. CLIFFORD.

[pg 63]
The Ambulatory.—Between the high altar and the Lady
Chapel is the ambulatory. It is noticeable that the shafts differ from
those in other parts of the building. The north and south windows are of
the time of Bishop Bruere (thirteenth century). The architecture
throughout the retrochoir is Early Decorated.

Two old oak bible-boxes are attached, one to each pillar: though ugly
and clumsy they are distinctly interesting.

The windows are modern and excellent. Messrs. Clayton and Bell have
seldom done anything better. The colours are quite admirable and well
blended. Two monuments of Jacobean work are well worthy of attention.
Concerning the subject of one, Jacob Railard, there is nothing to be
learnt; but the other, John Bidgood, was “one of the most accomplished
and beneficial physicians of his age,” and was born in 1623. He was
deprived of his fellowship at Exeter College in 1648 “for drinking of
healths to the confusion of Reformers.” Like many another good man he had
to suffer for his loyalty. He obtained his doctor’s degree at Padua and
won a great reputation as a skilful and humane practitioner. With the
Restoration he obtained his Oxford degree but continued to practise in
his native city. He died in his sixty-eighth year.

At the north end of the ambulatory is Speke’s Chantry, also
called St. George’s Chapel. It is of late, and exceedingly rich,
Perpendicular work. Oliver notices that in 1657 the east window and altar
were destroyed to make a passage “into the great church of St.
Peter’s-in-the-East, partitioned from West Peter’s by a brick wall
erected, plastered, and whitened on both sides by Walter Deeble, at the
expense of £150.” The effigy of Sir John Speke rests in the chapel; the
carving behind the figure is very elaborate. His home was at White
Lackington in Somersetshire, and he was the owner of Brampford Speke near
Exeter. To secure the observance of his and his wife’s obit, he endowed
the chapel with the “lands, tenements, and hereditaments in Langford,
Frehead, and Ashill, in Somersetshire.”

The north window is to the memory of Archdeacon Bartholomew, and was
placed here in 1865.[pg 64]

THE LADY CHAPEL.

[pg 65]
At the other end of the ambulatory is Bishop Oldham’s Chantry,
dedicated to our Saviour. It was richly restored by Bishop Oldham, who
also restored the Speke—or St. George—Chantry immediately
opposite. It is to this bishop we owe the “delicate and elegant screening
which imparts distance and veiling to all nine chapels and to Prior
Sylke’s chantry in the north transept.” The walls and vaulting are richly
decorated, and the panelling and rebus at the north-east corner contain a
rebus on the bishop’s name (oul-dom), being decorated with owls. In
accordance with his object in restoring the chapel, his body was buried
there and his effigy lies in a niche of the south wall. Oldham was a part
founder of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, by whose orders the chapel was
restored some years ago. He settled the arms of the see—gules, a
sword erect in pale argent, pommelled and hilted or, surmounted with two
keys in saltire of the last. He was a native of Manchester, founded the
grammar school there, and held the post of warden. He was a man of very
methodical habits, according to Hoker. He dined regularly at eleven, and
supped at five. “To ensure precision he had a house clock to strike the
hours and a servant to look after it. Should his lordship be prevented by
important business from coming to table at the appointed time, the
servant would delay the clock’s striking the hour until he knew that his
master was ready. Sometimes, if asked what was the hour, he would
humorously answer, ‘As your lordship pleaseth,’ at which the bishop would
smile and go away.”

The Lady Chapel.—It has been suggested that this chapel
occupies the site of the choir in the old cathedral of Leofric. The
earliest mention of it is in a deed of Bishop Bruere’s in 1237. It was
remodelled by Bronscombe and Quivil. But the “two pointed arches with
solid piers—totally different from any others in the
Cathedral—dividing the Chapel from the side chapels,” though their
moulding has been altered very considerably in order to tally with a
later style, show evidence of much earlier date. The shafts are of
Purbeck marble, and the windows, arranged as in the nave, contain the
last importation of glass from abroad, save that in the transeptal
windows, used in the cathedral. The bosses in the eastern bay, with the
evangelists’ emblems and head of Christ, should be noticed. The elaborate
fourteenth century reredos is the work of Grandisson. The central niche
contained a figure of the Virgin, before which a lamp was suspended. The
sedilia and double piscina on the south side are interesting.

The Lady Chapel contains several monumental tombs of interest. Beneath
the arches conducting to the side chapels are the effigies of Bishops
Bronscombe and Stafford.[pg 66]

Bronscombe died in 1280, Stafford in 1419; but with a regard to
symmetry, which is conspicuous in the cathedral, the earlier effigy of
Bronscombe was raised and provided with a new canopy to correspond with
Stafford’s tomb on the opposite side. Bronscombe lies on the south side,
at the entrance to, or the north side of, his chapel of St. Gabriel. The
colouring on the effigy must have been uncommonly splendid, and even the
remnants of the patterns have not faded out of all beauty.

BISHOP BRONSCOMBE’S MONUMENT (FROM BRITTON’S “EXETER,” 1826).

Stafford’s tomb is on the north side at the entrance to the chapel of
St. Mary Magdalen. It has had to contend with severer enemies than old
age, but shockingly as the effigy has suffered, it still preserves
something of its original beauty and stateliness. The attitude is simple;
the gloved hands of the bishop are joined over his breast in an attitude
of prayer. The face is thin and ascetic, its saintly austerity being
rendered more noticeable owing to the rich mitre that crowns the head.
The folds of the robe are managed with a consummate simplicity [pg 67] and
skill. In Leland’s “Itinerary” the bishop’s epitaph is preserved:

Tomb of Sir John and Lady Doddridge.—Sir John Doddridge
came of an old Devonshire family, for in 1285 one Walter Doddridge and
his wife surrendered to the Dean and Chapter of Exeter a right of
entrance into the close from their house in High Street. Fuller says of
him that it were “hard to say, whether he was better artist, divine,
Cure, or Common Lawyer, though he fixed on the last for his publick
Profession.” He was second justice of the King’s Bench, and gained great
renown as a judge of stern integrity. Sir John was three times married,
the lady whose effigy is here represented being his third wife, Dorothy,
daughter of Sir Amias Bampfylde. She died in 1615. Sir John, who became a
judge of the King’s Bench, lived till 1628. He won the nickname of the
“sleepy judge,” for he always closed his eyes in court, the better to
keep his attention fixed on the case. The monument is very elaborate, and
if not beautiful is well worth attention on account of its technical
qualities and the probable accuracy of its representation. The dress of
Lady Dorothy Doddridge exhibits a good example of costume; the skirt
embroidered with pansies and carnations; the ruff and cuffs showing old
Devonshire “bone lace.” It was no doubt copied from one of the lady’s
actual gowns.

On the south side of the Lady Chapel are two most interesting
monuments of early bishops. That towards the east has been assigned to
Bartholomew Iscanus (1161-84), but in all probability it represents one
of his far earlier predecessors. The sculpture is almost archaic in
style, the mitre low, the face bearded, and the type extraordinarily
Byzantine. The left hand holds the pastoral staff, the point of which
impales a winged dragon, with a sphinx-like head, at his feet. In the
angles of the archway at the tomb are the figures of two angels with
censers.

The other tomb is that of Simon de Apulia (d. 1223). It presents a
great contrast to that just described. The great [pg 68] advance made in the
art of sculpture is noticeable in the more human character of the face,
which is clean shaven, and the more skilful management of the hands. The
artist, too, seems to have courted difficulties, for the bishop’s robe
and mitre are richly jewelled, and the foliage and animal at his feet,
though conventional, are most elaborately designed.

SCREEN OF ST. GABRIEL’S CHAPEL.

[pg 69]
Bishop Peter Quivil (1291).—This tombstone in the centre
of the pavement was restored here in 1820 on the representation of Mr.
John Jones of Franklyn; the cross and letters were re-cut under his
directions. The epitaph is “Petra tegit Petrum, nihil officiat sibi
tetrum,” and Westcott in his “View of Devon” writes, “which verse was
written in an ancient character, each letter distant from the other at
least four inches; so that this short verse supplied the whole large
circumference, and cost me some labour in finding out and reading
it.”

Certainly this is one of the most interesting memorials in the
cathedral; indeed, it may be well considered the most interesting, for it
is dedicated to the man by whose genius the whole great design was
begotten. Its simplicity is noteworthy. But Quivil required no elaborate
sepulture; the cathedral itself is his mighty monument, since it was he
who founded—

St. Gabriel’s Chapel.—This chapel was transformed by
Bishop Bronscombe (1257-80). The vaulting has been recoloured in
conformity with the ancient tints and patterns. The chapel contained
several monuments, but these have been removed to other parts of the
cathedral. Bronscombe transformed the chapel that it might be used for
his burial place. St. Gabriel was his patron saint, and he caused the day
of the archangel to be celebrated with honours similar to Easter Day and
Christmas Day. There is some old glass in the windows. Note the kneeling
figure of the bishop with the scroll: “O Sancte Gabriel Archangele,
intercede pro gratia.” The skilful restoration of the south window with
pieces of old glass is one of the most happy results of later work in the
cathedral. The altar slab marked with five crosses, appears to have been
used in Leofric’s monument, where it was found in the last century. It
was placed here by Dean Cowie.

St. Mary Magdalen Chapel, first mentioned in the Fabric Rolls
for 1284. It was probably Marshall’s work originally, Bronscombe further
improved it, and Quivil entirely [pg 70] remodelled it. With the exception of
the Perpendicular screen shutting it off from the north aisle, it is of
the same date as the Lady Chapel. The north window is Bronscombe’s work,
and the still finer east window, containing a good deal of the early
fifteenth-century glass, is Quivil’s. The chapel originally contained an
altar to St John the Evangelist and a figure of the Magdalene, for in
Bishop Lacy’s register are the words, “extra vestibulum coram ymagine
Sanctae Marie Magdalene.” On the floor of the chapel is a brass to Canon
Langton, dated 1413. He was a cousin of Bishop Stafford. He is
represented kneeling, clothed in a most rich cope and alb, on which is
designed the Stafford knot. His hands are met in prayer. The epitaph only
gives the date of his death, and refers to his relationship with the
above-named bishop.

In this chapel also is a magnificent monument to Sir Gawain Carew and
his wife, and their nephew, Sir Peter. It is in two parts: on the upper
lie the figures of Sir Gawain and his dame, on the lower that of the more
famous nephew, with his legs crossed, an unusual position for a figure on
so late a tomb. Sir Peter and his uncle took an active part in quashing
the rebellion that disturbed the western counties in the reign of Edward
VI. The former died at Waterford, in Ireland, 1575. Sir Peter Carew sat
on the King’s Commission of 1552, which summoned the Dean and Chapter to
the bishop’s palace, “then and there to answer all demands and questions
concerning the jewells plate and other ornaments of your cathedrall
churche.”

In 1857 the monument was admirably restored by the members of the
Carew family, the whole being gilded and coloured.Table of
Contents
[pg 71]

TOMBS IN THE CHOIR AND CHOIR AISLES.

The first tomb to notice on the north side of the choir is that of the
murdered bishop, Stapledon. The canopy was judiciously restored at the
beginning of the century. From beneath it one observes a great image of
Christ, the pierced hands raised to bless. The wounded feet stand upon a
sphere, possibly to represent His dominion over the world, and an
insignificant earthly king, in scarlet robes, seems to take refuge in the
shadow of the Saviour. Beneath the canopy lies the figure of the bishop,
grasping the crozier in his left hand and a book in his right. The keys
upon his sleeve represent the arms of the see. Above the monument the
arms of the bishop figure on the choir screen, and over the tombs of Lacy
and Marshall the same plan has been observed. This screen was erected
about the close of the fourteenth century.

Below the sacrarium, on the north, are the tombs of the Elizabethan
bishop, William Bradbridge, and that of Bishop Lacy (1420-55). His arms,
“Three shovellers heads erased,” may be seen on the screen work above it.
The tomb is despoiled of the brass that once adorned it—said to
have been taken out by the Reformation Dean, Simon Hayes (who also
despoiled St. Radegunde’s Chapel), because pilgrims resorted to Lacy’s
tomb, and regarded him as a saint.

The next tomb, that of Marshall, is of peculiar interest, and it is
unfortunate that a good view is not easily attainable. It has been
pointed out by a specialist that the ornament on the chasuble is almost
unique, reminding one of the foliage in Early English work. The
medallions at the side are especially interesting.

At the west, near the Speke Chantry, is the remarkable monument,
generally supposed to be the tomb of Sir Richard de Stapledon, an elder
brother of the great bishop [pg 72] whose tragic death we have already
described in the first chapter of this book. He was a lawyer and one of
his Majesty’s judges. Prince’s quaint description of his tomb is worth
quoting in full: “In a niche in the wall is a monument erected to his
Memory, representing his Figure lively cut in stone sitting on horseback;
where is cut out also in the same, a cripple taking hold of the foreleg
of his horse: which seems to confirm the Tradition, That a certain
Cripple, as Sir Richard was riding into the City of London with his
Brother, lying at the gate, laid hold on one of his Horse’s Fore-legs,
and by crossing of it threw Horse and Rider to the Ground; by which means
he was soon slain; and that from this occasion the place obtain’d the
name of Cripple-gate, which it retains to this day.” It is a pity so
quaint a story belongs to the realm of legend, for there is no
substantial proof forthcoming of its truth.

TOMB OF BISHOP STAPLEDON.

The next monument on this side is an emaciated figure, or Memento
Mori, a gruesome style popular in the fifteenth century. It may have
been intended for a cenotaph of Bishop Bothe, the legend, nearly erased,
at the top, being the same as that on his brass in the church of East
Horsley, Surrey, where he is buried.[pg 73]

MONUMENT OF BISHOP MARSHALL
(FROM BRITTON’S “EXETER,” 1826).

[pg 74]
The monument to Anthony Harvey of Colomb John is of no great interest,
being poorly designed. Its date is 1564. Harvey was steward of the abbeys
of Hartland, Buckland, and Newenham at the time when the religious houses
were suppressed. He is said to have amassed very considerable wealth;
for, in addition to the profits derived from the spoliation of the above
monasteries, he received from Henry VIII considerable lands belonging to
the abbey of Tewkesbury, which he sold, probably most advantageously, to
a clothier of Crediton. Harvey was connected with the Carews through the
marriage of his daughter, and heiress, with George Carew, Dean of Exeter,
the notorious pluralist. Their son, Harvey’s grandson, was created Earl
of Totnes, but died without issue.

At the west end of the south aisle is the monument of Bishop Gary
(1621-26) and a mural tablet commemorating Robert Hall, eldest son of
Bishop Hall, and treasurer of the cathedral. To him Exeter owes a
perpetual debt of gratitude, for, when the city surrendered to Fairfax in
1646, he took down the Bishop’s Throne and concealed it (buried it
according to local tradition), and after the Restoration was able to
re-erect in its proper place the most magnificent Bishop’s throne in
England.

Neither the effigy of Bishop Cotton (1621) nor the angel resting on
the sarcophagus of Bishop Weston—a typical Georgian
monument—are of much intrinsic merit. Flaxman’s statue to General
Simcox, the hero of the Queen’s Rangers in the American War, is the only
other notable monumental achievement in the south choir aisle.

The Peter, or Great Bell, of Exeter is said to have been a gift of
Bishop Courtenay’s. This opinion is very much disputed, as the Fabric
Rolls show that there were bells here in the time of Edward II. As early
as 1351 is an entry of 6s. for mending the Peter Bell. Again in
1453, twenty-five years before Courtenay was created bishop, mention is
made of the spending of twenty pence “in una bauderick pro Maxima Campana
in Campanili Boreali.” Oliver, however, acutely points out that this last
entry is dated the very year that Courtenay was appointed Archdeacon of
Exeter, and suggests that “on that occasion he may have offered such
valuable presents.” On the [pg 75] 5th November, 1611, the bell was
crazed, but was recast in 1676. Its reputed weight is 12,500 lb. If this
is correct, it is the second largest bell in England. Great Tom of Christ
Church, Oxford, is more than 5,000 lb. heavier, but it easily exceeds its
other rivals, Tom of Lincoln and the Great Bell of St. Paul’s, which
weigh respectively 11,296 lb. and 8,400 lb.

Table of
Contents

The Chapter House lies at the south end of the transept beyond
the Chapel of the Holy Ghost. The lower part of the room is the original
building of the early thirteenth century, between 1224 and 1244, and the
face of the wall is decorated with Early English arcades separated by
delicate shafts. This building probably had a stone vaulted roof. Lacy
heightened it, adding lofty Perpendicular windows; and the whole is
completed by a rich tie-beam roof, partly the work of Bishop Bothe
(1465-78), whose arms, with Lacy’s, are painted on it (see p. 13). The east window, recently restored, contains
many coats of arms in ancient glass. Among these is the Austrian eagle
quartered with the lion of Bohemia, reminding us that Richard, Earl of
Cornwall, brother of Henry III, and lord of Rougemont Castle, Exeter, was
about 1260 elected King of the Romans, thus associating Exeter with the
highest secular honour then known to Europe.

The Cloister.—Archdeacon Freeman thinks that originally
the cloister “was confined to the east side, as a necessary communication
between the chapter house and the great south door of the nave.” During
Stapledon’s time a desire had been evinced to enlarge this cloister; and
in 1323 there is a record to the effect that eight heads had been carved
for vaulting the cloister. In the Fabric Rolls are entries that show the
work of building proceeded with some activity and considerable cheapness.
Here are a few extracts that are interesting:

“Twenty-five horse-loads of sand for the cloister, 9d. A
thousand lath nails and healing pins for do. S. Clifford sculpanti 18
capites 3/9: 10 do. 2/-.”

By 1342 the work was probably finished to the north, and forty years
later the whole must have been completed. It has been said that the old
cloister was inferior to those of Worcester [pg 76] and Gloucester. But
they must have had considerable merit if Mr. Pearson’s restoration really
represents, and there is little doubt it does, the old structure.

It is curious that the cloister, certainly the least offensive and not
the most beautiful part of the cathedral, should have suffered so
severely at the hands of the Puritans. For on the whole the cathedral
proper escaped with but small damage. Professor Freeman, in discussing
the alleged desecrations suffered by St. Mary and St. Peter, after the
entrance of Fairfax and his army into the city, writes thus: “The account
in Mercurius Rusticus, which has given vogue to the common story is
wholly untrue.” He further adds: “Some fanatic soldier may, indeed,
according to the story, have broken off the head of Queen Elizabeth,
mistaking her for our Lady. But no general mutilation or desecration took
place at this time. And at Exeter, one form of mutilation, which
specially affected the west front, was not the work of enemies but of
devotees. For ages the country folk who came into the city loved to carry
home a Peter stone for the healing of their ailments.” It is only fair to
add that Archdeacon Freeman refers in very different language to the
result of the occupation by the Puritans, but though the decorative
portions of the cloister may have suffered, we cannot account for the
disappearance of the exterior walls without a better reason for their
destruction. It should be noted, however, that in the fifteenth century
the Dean and Chapter bitterly complained of the conduct of the Exeter
boys, who played “unlawfull games as the toppe, queke, penny pryke &
most atte tenys” in the cloister, whereby they were “defowled & the
glas windows all to-brost.” But at this time the cathedral and municipal
authorities were far from friendly to each other. Dr. Oliver writes of
the ruins in his day that they “have disappeared with the exception of
part of a fluted column at the west corner of the carpenter’s shop.” With
the debris small and mean houses were built. On the 30th of October,
1657, we are given a hint as to what may have been the meaning of this
wanton destruction. Apparently the ground set apart for “the convenience
of the studious and contemplative” was found to have valuable attributes
as a market-place, for on the above day the “Friday cloth market for
serges and other drapery” was ordered to be held in this place. Commerce
did not triumph for long, though, as only three years later the buyers
and sellers were bundled back into South Street.[pg 77]

THE EAST GATE, PULLED DOWN IN 1784.

[pg 78]
A large number of bosses and carvings of the original structure,
discovered during the recent excavations, have been skilfully
incorporated by Mr. Pearson in his restoration. Above the cloister is a
library containing 8,000 volumes, many of them bequeathed by the late
Chancellor Harrington.

The Close.—This was an important adjunct to all
cathedrals in the days following the Conquest. We have seen that on one
occasion at least the cathedral church of Exeter was severely bombarded,
with the result that the northern tower differs considerably from the
southern in places. The church, then, we may presume, was intended to be
used, when necessary, as a fortress: but as it was also something else
very different, this necessity was rather shunned than courted. Therefore
it was customary to separate the church from the world by walls and gates
of proved strength. This space so secured formed an outer fortress,
against which the attacks of an enemy must, perforce, have been directed
first. It placed entirely in the hands of the clergy the defence of their
own church, a task they were quite capable of performing with credit; for
Matthew Paris tells us of one bishop of Exeter, Bruere, that he displayed
activity both “spiritual and temporal” in the Holy Land. The defence of
the city, that of the sacred building being thus provided for, was the
business of the captains and men-at-arms. The walls and gates of the
close have vanished, without leaving a trace of their existence. One
privilege, however, yet haunts the place—the corporation have no
jurisdiction over it.

In the close at the north side of the cathedral has been placed a
statue of Richard Hooker, the theologian (1553-1600), author of “The Laws
of Ecclesiastical Polity.” The “Judicious Hooker” was born in Exeter, and
was a nephew of John Vowel, alias Hoker, Chamberlain and Historian of the
city.

The Cathedral Library was founded by Leofric himself. One of
his principal reasons for translating the see from Crediton to Exeter
being his fear lest the valuable books he had collected should at any
time be destroyed by raiders in an unfortified town.

When, in the beginning of the seventeenth century, Sir Thomas Bodley,
himself a native of Exeter, founded the [pg 79] Bodleian Library at
Oxford, the Dean and Chapter of Exeter presented to it a large number of
books and manuscripts, many of which had belonged to Leofric. Fortunately
one volume remained in Exeter, overlooked by owners then unaware of its
value, possibly of its very existence. This volume, “The Exeter Book,” is
the greatest treasure possessed by the Dean and Chapter, being an
Anglo-Saxon manuscript, containing almost a third of all the Anglo-Saxon
literature that is known. The contents include “Cynewulf’s Christus,” a
poem on the life of our Lord; some legends of saints; and a quaint
collection of riddles and jokes. The ink of its writing, nearly one
thousand years old, is as fresh as if it had been inscribed but
recently.

As already mentioned, the muniments room was formerly above St.
Andrew’s Chapel. At a later date the library was placed in the Lady
Chapel, and was thence removed to the chapter house. Towards the end of
the last century Canon Cook and Chancellor Harrington left their valuable
libraries to the Dean and Chapter, and in order to accommodate the books
Dean Cowie restored the south side of the cloister, and built a new
library over it.

Here may be seen the Exeter Book, the Exeter Domesday, Grandisson’s
Ordinale, Lacy’s Pontifical, and other beautiful examples of
illumination. Also the original charter of Edward the Confessor
appointing Leofric Bishop of Exeter, signed by the King and Queen, Earl
Godwin, and a notable group of Saxon Thanes.

Among the printed books are a First Folio of Shakespeare, and the
sealed Prayer Book of King Charles II.

The library is open to the public after Matins on Tuesdays and
Fridays.

The Palace is a building so closely associated with the
cathedral as to demand a brief notice. In it is the chapel of St. Mary,
which seems to have been frequently used in preference to the cathedral
for the celebration of espiscopal functions. Ordination services were
often held within its walls. It was originally built that services might
be said there for the repose of the souls of dead bishops of Exeter. A
document is quoted by Oliver, in which the parish of Alwyngton is called
upon to pay the officiating chaplain a yearly sum of four marks and that
of Harberton two. This chapel, now restored, is [pg 80] used for domestic
purposes. But at one time it was clearly regarded as pertaining to the
cathedral, for the Dean and Chapter, on the festival of St. Faith,
presented to it a pair of wax candles. Brantyngham, in 1381, mentions the
“fructus et proventus cantariae infra Palatium nostrum Exonie, pro
animabus predecessorum nostorum ipsius fundatorum.” The old entrance was
under the great archway, and battlements, by gracious permission of
royalty, surrounded the whole. In the great hall feasts were held for 100
poor people; but the palace now is shorn of a good deal of its grandeur.
The Ecclesiastical Commissioners in 1845 decided to rebuild and repair
what remained.[pg 81]

THE BISHOP’S PALACE.

Table of
Contents
[pg 83]

THE DIOCESE OF EXETER.

A chronological list of the bishops of the diocese, from the days of
Leofric, when the seat of the bishopric was removed from Crediton, to our
own day, when the diocese of Truro has been carved out from that of
Exeter, is here given briefly, since the more notable holders of the see
have been already mentioned in the first chapter.

Leofric (1046-1072). In 1050 the see was removed from Crediton
and the new See of Exeter founded.

Osbern (1072-1103). No alterations were made to the building
during this period. The bishop was admired for his “simplicity of English
manners and habits,” for although Norman by birth he had been educated in
England.

William Warelwast (1107-1136), a nephew of William the
Conqueror, began to demolish the Saxon Church. To him may be attributed
the towers, choir, apse, and nave of the Norman building. The story of
his blindness, and of his being sent on an embassy to Rome, rests on
somewhat slender authority.

Robert Chichester (1138-1155) was promoted from the deanery of
Salisbury at the Council of Northampton. He continued Warelwast’s
work.

Robert Warelwast (1155-1160) was a nephew of the former bishop
of that name.

Bartholomaeus Iscanus (1161-1184), a native of Exeter, was of
humble birth. He is said to have been an enemy of Becket’s and was called
by Pope Alexander III. “the luminary of the English Church.”

John the Chaunter (1186-1191) continued the buildings which had
been suspended during the last episcopate.

Henry Marshall (1194-1206), brother to the Earl of Pembroke,
Marshal of England, was promoted from York, of [pg 84] which cathedral he
was dean. He completed the buildings as designed by the first Warelwast.
To him we owe the Lady Chapel, the larger choir, the north porch,
cloister doorway, and six chapels. He assisted at the coronation of King
Richard at Winchester in 1194, and at that of John in 1199.

Simon de Apulia (1214-1223). But little is recorded of this
bishop. He assisted at Henry III.’s coronation at Gloucester when the
king was a lad of ten. To him also is attributed the fixing of the
boundaries of the city parishes. His tomb is in the Lady Chapel.

William Bruere (1224-1244) served as Precentor of Exeter before
he was made bishop. To him are due the chapter house and stalls in the
old choir. For five years he was in the Holy Land, and Matthew Paris
writes of his energy and untiring devotion in administering to the wants
of his countrymen.

Richard Blondy (1245-1257). According to Hoker this bishop was
the son of Hilary Blondy, Mayor of Exeter in 1227.

Walter Bronescombe (1257-1280), a native of Exeter, was only in
deacon’s orders when chosen bishop. He restored the chapels of St.
Gabriel, St. Mary Magdalene and St. James. He also founded a college at
Glasney and restored “the establishment of Crediton” to much of its
former splendour.

Peter Quivil (1280-1291) was born in Exeter, and a
protégé of Bronescombe’s. His first preferment was as Archdeacon
of St. David’s, from whence he was promoted bishop of his native city. He
it was who designed the Decorated cathedral and transformed transepts
with chapels, eastern bay of the nave, and the Lady Chapel.

Thomas de Bytton (1292-1307) continued Quivil’s work,
transforming the choir and its aisles. He was a native of Gloucestershire
and had been Dean of Wells. An indulgence of forty days was granted by
the Pope, Boniface VIII., three archbishops and five bishops, to all who
should pray for his prosperity. The rules he made for the government of
the collegiate church at Crediton won general approval.

Walter de Stapledon (1308-1326) was Professor of Canon Law at
Oxford and a chaplain to Pope Clement V. He was killed by a London mob.
The transformed choir transepts are his work, and he erected the organ
screen, bishop’s throne, [pg 85] and sedilia. During his episcopate,
also, the cloisters were begun.

James Berkeley (1326-1327), Archdeacon of Huntingdon, and
grandson of William de Ferrers, Earl of Derby, died a few weeks after his
consecration.

John Grandisson (1327-1369) was born in Herefordshire, of good
family. His long tenure of the see is one of the most memorable chapters
in the history of Exeter. The fatal Black Death occurred during his
episcopacy, 1348-1369. He inherited the transforming zeal of his
predecessors and set his seal on the six western bays of the nave, the
great west windows, and the vaulting and the aisles. He completed the
north cloister.

Thomas Brantyngham (1370-1394) was educated at the Court of
Edward III., and was a canon of Exeter when chosen bishop. He was a
constant adviser of the king, only being released from his privy council
and parliamentary duties when his advanced age made them irksome to him.
He was very busy in all the affairs of the diocese, but found time to
complete the cloisters, east window, and west front.

Edmund Stafford (1395-1419) came of a greatly distinguished
family. He was a canon of York when Pope Boniface IX. advanced him to the
See of Exeter. For a time he served the king as Lord High Chancellor. He
has been abused by Campbell in his “Lives of the Lord Chancellors of
England”: but there seems little doubt that he deserved the reputation he
certainly got of being learned, grave, and wise, and “very well accounted
generally of all men.” To him are attributed the canopies over the tombs
in the Lady Chapel.

John Ketterick or Catterick (1419) died at Florence a
month after his appointment.

Edmund Lacy (1420-1455), composer of an office in honour of the
Archangel Raphael, left a saintly reputation, and pilgrimages were, for
long, made to his tomb. According to Canon Freeman he raised the chapter
house and glazed the nave windows.

George Neville (1458-1465) was a son of the Earl of Salisbury.
He was Chancellor of Oxford, and only twenty-four when made bishop.
Though for several years Lord High Chancellor, and translated to York, he
died in disgrace and comparative poverty.

John Bothe (1465-1478) was the son of a Cheshire [pg 86] knight. He
has often, but wrongly, been credited with being the donor of the throne.
With more certainty the roof of the chapter house has been acknowledged
as his work.

Peter Courtenay (1478-1486), son of Sir Philip Courtenay of
Powderham, had been Archdeacon of Exeter and Wiltshire, and Dean of
Windsor and Exeter before he was appointed Bishop of Exeter. He assisted
at the coronation of Richard III., but was none the less translated, for
his services, by Henry to the diocese of Winchester.

Richard Fox (1487-1491), the next bishop, was held in great
esteem by Henry VII., whom he represented for a time as Ambassador at the
Court of Scotland. He arranged the preliminaries of the marriage of
Henry’s daughter Margaret with James IV. He was translated to Bath and
Wells, then to Durham, and finally to Winchester. He is said to have
refused the dignity of Archbishop of Canterbury, which his godson, Henry
VIII., was anxious he should accept.

Oliver King (1492-1495) was Bishop of Exeter for a short time
only, being translated to Bath and Wells. He began building the Abbey
Church at Bath, but did not live to see much of it completed.

Richard Redman (1496-1501) was translated to Exeter from St.
Asaph. He resigned the see on becoming Bishop of Ely.

John Arundell (1502-1503) was translated from the See of
Lichfield and Coventry. He was famous for his benevolence and
hospitality. He died after barely two years’ tenancy of the western
bishopric.

Hugh Oldham (1504-1519) came of an ancient Lancashire family. A
large and flourishing manufacturing town in that county bears his name.
He founded the grammar school in Manchester, and on his elevation became
famous throughout the west of England for his learning and piety.

John Vesey (Harman) (1519-1551). A lengthy account is given of
this bishop in the first chapter.

Miles Coverdale (1551-1553) was a famous reformer, and revised
Tyndale’s translation of the Bible. He was not popular in the diocese,
and on Queen Mary’s accession was deprived of his see, to the great
satisfaction of his flock.

James Turberville (1555-1559) was deprived of his see on his
refusal to acknowledge the ecclesiastical supremacy of [pg 87] Elizabeth.
He had been popular in the west of England, where the Reformation was at
first heartily disliked.

William Alleyn (1560-1570). Oliver writes the surname Alley.
The diocese was now so poor that he was compelled to reduce the number of
canons from twenty-four to nine. Only by accepting the rectorship of
Honiton was the bishop himself able to support the dignity of his office.
He was the author of several religious books that had considerable
popularity in their day.

William Bradbridge (1570-1578) is said to have speculated
largely in agricultural land, and to have died a debtor for a large
amount, including £1,400 owed to Queen Elizabeth. Beyond this little is
recorded of him except that he lived at Newton Ferrers, of which he held
the living in commendam, which must have put his clergy to great
inconvenience.

John Wolton (1579-1594). During Wolton’s episcopate the
revenues were restored to the chapter, the crown reserving to itself the
sum of £145 yearly. The priest-vicars, also, received back from the queen
the greater portion of their possessions.

Gervase Babington (1595-1597) was translated from Llandaff. He
remained at Exeter but a short time. He seems to have been a favourite
with the queen, who took an early opportunity to promote him to the
wealthy See of Worcester.

William Cotton (1598-1621).

Valentine Carey (1621-1626) had been Master of Christ’s
College, Cambridge, and Dean of St. Paul’s.

Joseph Hall (1627-1641) was Dean of Worcester when promoted to
the See of Exeter. He was a famous theological writer, and was translated
to Norwich in 1641. There he suffered a great deal of unmerited
persecution, which he bore bravely, though the ill-treatment of his
enemies killed him.

Ralph Brownrigg (1642-1659), Master of St. Catharine’s,
Cambridge, was bishop in troublous times. He had to retire to a friend’s
house in Berkshire. He was elected Preacher of the Temple, and was buried
at the cost of the Inn.

John Gauden (1660-1662) was Master of the Temple. His title to
fame is as the reputed author of the ΕΙΚΩΝ
ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΗ. Being the
first bishop appointed after the Restoration, his arrival in Exeter was
gladly welcomed by the loyal [pg 88] citizens. But he does not seem to have
been a lovable man, and was over-eager for riches. He was translated to
Worcester on his complaint of poverty reaching the king’s ears.

Seth Ward (1662-1667) was already popular as dean when he
succeeded Gauden as bishop. He cleared the cathedral of the small traders
who desecrated the precincts, and gave to his church the finest organ
then known in England. He was translated to Salisbury, and became
Chancellor of the Order of the Garter. He obtained an enviable reputation
for his good sense, piety, learning, and generosity.

Anthony Sparrow (1667-1676) was Master of King’s College,
Cambridge, when consecrated bishop. Cosmo III. visited Exeter during his
tenancy of the see.

Thomas Lamplugh (1676-1688) seems to have been a clever
politician. By expressing his loyalty to James II., when William had
landed at Torbay, he was created Archbishop of York; thereupon he
actively supported the Prince of Orange. “My Lord, you are a genuine old
Cavalier,” was the king’s greeting. One hopes the memory of those words
troubled the archbishop during his three years’ experience of an
ill-deserved dignity.

Jonathan Trelawny (1689-1707) came of a famous Cornish family.
As Bishop of Bristol he was already famous, for he was one of the seven
bishops whose trial and acquittal hastened the downfall of the last
Stuart king. He was translated to Winchester. A popular refrain, wedded
to verses by the celebrated parson Hawker, of Morwenstow, keeps his
memory alive in the western counties.

Offspring Blackball (1708-1716) was chiefly and honourably
known as a promoter of charity schools.

Launcelot Blackburne (1717-1724). Of this bishop there is
little to record. He was translated to the Archbishopric of York in
1724.

Stephen Weston (1724-1742). The episcopal registers were now
kept for the first time in English. His long reign seems to have been
quite uneventful, and probably was, therefore, entirely successful.

Nicholas Claggett (1742-1746) was translated from St.
David’s.

George Lavington (1747-1762).

[pg 89]
Frederick Keppel (1762-1777), a son of the Earl of Albemarle,
was a canon of Windsor when appointed Bishop of Exeter.

John Ross (1778-1792).

William Buller (1792-1796), of an old west country family, was
promoted from the deanery of Canterbury.

Henry Reginald Courtenay (1797-1803), translated to this see
from Bristol.

John Fisher (1803-1807) was tutor to the Duke of Kent, father
of Queen Victoria. He was translated to Salisbury in 1807.

George Pelham (1807-1820) was translated from Bristol. After,
according to Oliver, “for thirteen years expecting higher preferment,” he
was promoted to Lincoln.

William Carey (1820-1830), head master of Westminster School.
When he had been ten years at Exeter he was translated to St. Asaph, a
curious reversal of the usual proceeding. For although a Welsh bishopric
often led to an English one, a change from Exeter to St. Asaph could
hardly have been “preferment” in the ordinary sense.

Christopher Bethell (1830-1831). Exeter, for this bishop also,
was merely a stepping-stone between Gloucester and Bangor.

Henry Phillpotts (1831-1868) was the most famous bishop who has
held the see in this century. He restored the palace, which had fallen
into a ruined condition. He was energetic about the affairs of his
diocese, a born ruler of men, and a scholar of eminence. The story of his
episcopate is a well-known chapter to students of the ecclesiastical
history of the first half of the queen’s reign.

Frederick Temple (1869-1885), head master of Rugby, 1858-1869;
Bishop of Exeter, 1869; translated to London, 1885, and to the
Metropolitan See of Canterbury, 1896.

Edward Henry Bickersteth (1885-1901) was Dean of Gloucester
when appointed bishop. Resigned.

Herbert Edward Ryle (1901-1903) translated to Winchester. On
resigning the see of Winchester he became Dean of Westminster.

Archibald Robertson (1903-1916). Resigned.

Rupert Ernest William Gascoyne Cecil (1916- ).

[pg 90]

OLD HOUSES IN FORE STREET.

Table of
Contents
[pg 91]

ROUGEMONT CASTLE AND THE GUILDHALL.

It is related that when Gytha fled towards the river and William the
Conqueror marched through the eastern gate of the city, claiming it as
his prize, he promised the citizens their lives, goods, and limbs. But,
although he adhered strictly to his promise, and took care that his
victorious soldiers should not pillage or insult the inhabitants, he was
well aware of the supreme value of his conquest. The taking of Exeter was
practically the taking of all western England. So he determined to make
his position impregnable, and to this end set about the building of a
castle on the Red Mount. The task was not a hard one: the Norman
engineers had little need to display their peculiar ingenuity. Nature had
done much, and to her work Briton, Roman, and Englishman had made
additions. As Professor Freeman puts it: “The hillside was ready scarped,
the ditch was ready dug.” Baldwin de Molles was appointed superintendent
and commander, and so well did he carry out his trust that within a year
the castle was built and the men of Cornwall and Devon had attacked its
walls in vain. Perhaps because William had been a merciful conqueror, not
despoiling or ill-using the citizens, perhaps because the citizens were
afraid, knowing the just man was strong and his hand heavy in anger, the
besiegers found no help within the city walls. Henceforth Exeter was for
the king.

A curious example of its loyalty was shown in the troubled days of
King Stephen. Earl Baldwin, from all accounts a cruel and violent man,
took arms against the king. Stephen demanded that the castle should be
delivered up. For his answer the Earl laid in provisions, and at the head
of his followers patrolled the streets of the city threatening vengeance
on those who opposed his will. Stephen, speedily apprised by his faithful
citizens of these riotous doings, sent two hundred [pg 92] knights to confront
the rebel. Later he came himself, and the castle was closely besieged.
After three months’ heavy fighting the wells in the castle gave out.
Deprived of water, Baldwin, who was brave enough, made shift with wine,
using it both for cookery and extinguishing the fires. But at last the
king was victorious and, not heeding the wise counsel of his brother
Henry of Winchester, permitted the followers of Baldwin to “go forth with
their goods and follow what lord they would.”

In 1483, Richard III., fearing that the west favoured the claims of
Henry, Earl of Richmond, hastened to Exeter. He was civilly greeted by
John Attwill, the mayor. But his coming was not very welcome, nor did his
conduct contribute to the gaiety of the inhabitants. In his train was
Lord Scrope, whose business it was to try the rebels. None could be
found, however, save the king’s brother-in-law, St. Leger, and his
esquire, John Rame. Richard none the less determined to strike terror
into the hearts of all who wavered in their allegiance. So both men were
beheaded at the Carfax. This done, the king busied himself in studying
the surrounding country, and made careful note of the city and castle.
The military strength of Rougemont pleased him, though the name did not.
A west country accent, some say, gave it a sound like Ridgemount, too
close an echo of his rival’s title. The incident is referred to by
Shakespeare in these well-known lines:

The castle was considerably injured a few years later when Perkin
Warbeck, at the head of his Cornishmen, attacked the city. The fight
seems to have been a long and furious one. The North Gate was burned, and
both there and at the East Gate the rebels were temporarily successful.
But after the Earl of Devon and his retinue came to the help of the
citizens the rebels were expelled and had to make their way to Taunton,
unsuccessful. Henry soon afterwards arrived bringing Perkin Warbeck with
him. By his clemency towards the rebels he created real enthusiasm, so
that the prisoners “hurled away their halters and cried God Save the
King.”[pg 93]

By the time Charles I. came to the throne the castle was already
showing “gaping chinks and an aged countenance.” Fairfax and his
Roundheads completed the ruin. But it was not war only which left the
building as we now see it. An ivy-covered gateway is all that remains.
Yet from its summit one has a fine view of the surrounding country, and
can readily understand of what strategical value its possession must have
been in “battles long ago.”

ROUGEMONT CASTLE.

[pg 94]

THE GUILDHALL, EXETER.

[pg 95]

The hand of the reformer proved stronger than that of the victorious
captain. What war had failed to do enterprising citizens accomplished in
times of peace. About the year 1770 the city fathers seem to have been
animated by an unholy passion for destruction. Not only was the house of
the Earls of Bedford, a house full of historic and majestic memories,
pulled down, but the venerable fortress attracted attention. First a
gateway, then the chapel, later the castellan’s house disappeared. New
assize courts, superlatively ugly, proudly rose in their stead. But even
then the zeal of the reformers was not satiated. “Ten years later the
Eastern Gate, with its two mighty flanking towers soaring over the
picturesque house on each side with its wide and lofty Tudor arch
spanning the road, its statue of Henry the Seventh, commemorating its
rebuilding after the siege by Perkin Warbeck—the gate which was
heir to that through which the conqueror made his way—all perished,
to the great satisfaction of the Exeter of that day; for ‘a beautiful
Vista was opened from St. Sidwell’s into the High Street, a very great
and necessary improvement.'” It is easy to share Professor Freeman’s
indignation; less easy, unhappily, to persuade men of our own day to deal
kindly by the ancient monuments that are still left to us.

Another building that has played a notable part in the history of the
city is the Guildhall, of which the portico makes so pleasing an
ornament to the High Street. The building is a picturesque medley,
“English windows and Italian pillars,” and Professor Freeman wittily
suggests that it serves to remind us of the jumble of tongues
characterizing “much of the law business that has been done within it.”
The present building was built in 1464, replacing one of earlier date.
There are many pictures of local interest in the hall, and also portraits
by Sir Peter Lely of Princess Henrietta, Anne, Duchess of Orleans, and of
General Monk. The Princess was born in Exeter, and the portrait was
presented to the city by Charles II after the Restoration. General Monk
belonged to a Devonshire family whose residence was near Torrington.
There seems to have been at one time a guild or confraternity connected
with the chapel of St. George, erected over the hall about the last year
of Richard III. In the accounts are found [pg 96] entries such as
this: “Principae and others for exequis and masses said in the chapel of
Guildhall for the repose of the souls for the brothers and sisters of the
fraternity of St. George.”

When Richard III was nearing the end of his reign, the roof was
fortified by a gun placed in charge of John Croker and ten soldiers. It
is a strange coincidence that the chapel should have been built at this
time. Evidently the wise citizens were determined to protect their
interests both here and hereafter.

Table of
Contents

DIMENSIONS.

[pg 97]

INDEX

CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND GRIGGS (PRINTERS), LTD.
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.

[pg 99]

Bell’s Cathedral Series

LONDON: G. BELL AND SONS, LTD.

[pg 100]

PLAN OF EXETER CATHEDRAL

REFERENCES TO PLAN.

Footnotes.