Page:All the Year Round - Series 2 - Volume 1.djvu/271

Charles Dickens] casks to help to extinguish the flames. In the reign of Henry the Fourth, John Holland, Duke of Exeter, dwelt at Rougemont, which is, however, chiefly interesting to the crow and his flighty friends from the fact that Shakespeare mentions a tradition concerning it.

The Crookback came here once with his army, and shuddered at being told the name of the castle, as an Irish prophet had predicted that he should not live long after seeing Richmond.

Exeter, looking far away towards the warm green sea that beats upon Devon's red cliffs, was an old British town built long before Cæsar, and called Caer Isc, the city on the river. Antiquaries observe that like most Celtic trading towns it has been built for safety just beyond where the river ceases to be navigable. Coins of the Greek dynasties in Syria and Egypt prove that Phœnician merchants must have come here many hundred years before Christ to trade for Cornish and Dartmoor tin. Then the Romans marched in and made it a great station. Lastly the Saxons fortified the town on the Exe, and traded here with the Britons from across the Tamar. The Exe was the frontier then for the Damnonians, but Athelstan came and drove them pell mell into Cornwall, and rebuilt the walls of Exeter. The Britons cooped up among the granite rocks of Cornwall soon had their avengers; the Danes came crowding up the Exe with their black sails and black banners, and wintered at Exeter in 876, rejoicing in the Saxon beeves and ale. They grew accustomed to the place and pillaged it again under Sweyn in 1003. The old red tower was always getting beaten about by stones from military engines, and chipped by crossbow bolts. William the Conqueror besieged it, wishing to sieze Githa, the mother of Harold, and her daughter, but they escaped safely to Bruges. Perkin Warbeck, when joined by the Bodmin men, and calling himself Richard the Fourth, besieged Exeter, but unsuccessfully, and flying from the king's troops to Taunton, took refuge in the New Forest. Soon afterwards surrendering himself, but broke prison, and was hung at Tyburn.

Exeter had its share of troubles in the civil wars. Prince Maurice took it after an eight months' siege, and then it became the king's great stronghold in the west; for he was always popular in Devonshire and Cornwall, and the proud queen resided at Exeter, and kept the nobles loyal to the flag. There she gave birth to that princess Henrietta, afterwards the Duchess of Orleans, who was eventually poisoned, and on whom Bossuet preached one of his sublimest funeral sermons. The Prince of Orange made a formal entry into the fair capital of the west on his way to take possession of King James's crown, and in 1789 old King George and Queen Charlotte were received by the mayor and aldermen, to the delectation of the honest Devonshire people and the sardonic contempt of Peter Pindar. That sneerer, eventually so easily bought off, says:

The journey to Exeter, now little more than five hours by express, used to take "old Quicksilver" seventeen or eighteen hours, with horses never off the trot. It was thought wild work at that rate, and our forefathers considered themselves desperadoes who had accomplished great deeds when they stepped out in Fore-street, and congratulated each other at the danger well over. In 1720 a Mrs. Manley, with the spirit of an African traveller, published a book on "A stage-coach journey from London to Exeter." The ponderous vehicle started at three in the morning, stopped at ten in order that the passengers might dine, and at three coolly retired into an inn-yard to safe moorings for the night. The journey was completed in four days, and the average pace was a safe cozy four and a half miles an hour.

The crow perched complacently in the gable niche of the west front of the grand old cathedral, nestling down, so that he seems a mere black spot from below—a mere black wafer at the feet of crumbling old St. Peter, looks down at the rows of angels, kings, and saints, and croaks applause at the piety of Edward the Third's lord high treasurer, Bishop Brantyngham, who, it is supposed, put together these Norman towers, flying buttresses, and lofty sheets of painted glass, all so many episodes of the great poem in stone, hallowed by the beauty of art.

Bishop Stapledon completed the choir in 1308–1326, and the four outermost bays of the choir are his also. His monument is in the choir. A figure of the Saviour is within the canopy, and a small figure of King Edward the Second climbs up towards him. The arms of the see (two keys addorsed) adorn the sleeve of the effigy. This bishop, who founded Exeter College, was left by Edward the Second in charge of London. In 1326, Stapledon, then Lord Treasurer of England, and a firm adherent of the king against the queen and the barons, met with a terrible death. When Isabella landed from France, determined to chase away the Spencers, her husband's favourites, and advanced on London, the weak king fled to the Welsh frontier. The bishop, as custos of the City of London, then demanded the keys of the Lord Mayor, Hammond Chickwell, and determined to curb the restless citizens, took high measures, ready to pounce on the first revolter. The populace equally alert, fearing the mayor's submission, and roused by Isabella's proclamations that had been hung on the new cross at Cheapside, rose in arms, imprisoned the mayor, and seized his keys. They then ran to Exeter House, in what is now Essex-street, Strand, burnt down the gates, and destroyed all the rich plate, jewels, money, and furniture. The