Memorials of Old Devonshire

In Short

This book is a curated anthology of historical essays, each dedicated to a specific facet of Devonshire’s past. It traverses the county’s evolution from the medieval grandeur of its ports and the architectural legacy of its castles to the peculiarities of local industry and the personal histories of its most prominent families. By blending scholarly record-keeping with local folklore and anecdotal humor, the work creates a textured portrait of a changing English landscape, preserving the stories of a society that—while often at odds with the march of modernity—remains deeply rooted in its traditions.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book is not a singular, linear tale but a gradual immersion into the layered history of a county. It begins by establishing the former prominence of Devon’s coastal towns, particularly Plymouth and Dartmouth, noting their significance in medieval naval power and their deep-seated, if mythological, connections to ancient figures like Gogmagog and Corinæus. The book then shifts focus to the aristocracy, tracing the lineage of the Courtenay family, whose presence has defined much of the local social hierarchy since the reign of Henry II. This exploration of lineage serves as a bridge into the broader history of the county’s infrastructure—the rise and fall of its cloth trade in the bustling inns of Exeter, and the strategic importance of its many castles, from Plympton to Okehampton, as guardians of the interior.

As the text progresses, it moves from the grand scale of geopolitical defense to the specific, human scale of village life and individual achievement. It recounts the dramatic five-week siege of Exeter, highlighting the ingenuity of citizens who diverted drainage to thwart enemy mines. This leads into an examination of the cultural life of the region, specifically the literary and artistic figures that emerged from its parishes. The reader is introduced to the poet Robert Herrick, whose time in the village of Dean Prior is immortalized through his work, and to the celebrated painter Sir Joshua Reynolds, whose early life is traced back to the schoolroom in Plympton where he first sketched.

The narrative does not shy away from the darker or more absurd turns of history, such as the political infighting within Tiverton’s corporation or the folk tale of the "little man" from Brixham, whose attempt to gain favor with William of Orange resulted in a comic and tragic downfall. The book also provides a meticulous look at the development of local trades, such as the Honiton lace industry, and the changing nature of regional fairs, which served as the heartbeat of commerce in towns like Barnstaple.

The final sections of the work look toward the end of the eighteenth century, describing the preparations for potential French invasions and the subsequent peace that settled over the county. The narrative concludes by grounding its history in physical monuments—tombs, schoolhouses, and wells—that persist as silent witnesses to the past. By examining the decay of old buildings and the shifting fortunes of families, the book leaves the reader with a sense of the persistence of memory. It captures a version of Devonshire that is constantly being remade, yet forever tethered to the names and deeds of those who walked its streets centuries before.

How It Unfolds

The maritime past The discussion opens with the fading glory of Devon’s ports, contrasting their medieval naval dominance with their modern status. It highlights the local desire to link their origins to the legendary figures of Troy, as evidenced by the recurring tradition of the Gogmagog carvings on the Plymouth Hoe.

The lineage of the landed The text turns to the Courtenays, dissecting the historical veracity of their claims to nobility. This section contrasts the family’s long-standing influence with the modern penchant for simplified, often invented, aristocratic pedigrees.

The architecture of trade The focus shifts to the wool trade and the infrastructure of Exeter, detailing the rise of the "New Inn" as a mercantile center. It chronicles how protectionist measures and the later arrival of steam power eventually forced the industry to abandon its traditional roots.

The crucible of conflict The narrative examines the siege of Exeter, showcasing the resourcefulness of the townspeople under pressure. This provides a backdrop for understanding how internal divisions and external military threats defined the life of the county.

The lives of the artists The final beats center on cultural figures, specifically Herrick and Reynolds, and the influence of the Devon landscape on their output. The text concludes by examining local legends, the evolution of regional commerce, and the enduring physical remains of a bygone era.

The People

The book is populated by a mix of noblemen, commoners, and historical figures who anchor the narrative in time. The Courtenays emerge as the most enduring family, their lineage serving as a barometer for the county’s political health and social prestige. Their presence is marked by their munificence toward religious foundations, yet the text maintains a critical eye on the legends surrounding their origins.

Sir Bevill Grenville stands out as a figure of tragic nobility, a man so universally beloved that his death at the Battle of Lansdown was lamented by friend and foe alike. His story highlights the personal cost of the civil conflicts that once tore through the region. In contrast to the grand figures of war, the text highlights men like John Newcomb, the unnamed citizen who saved Exeter from siege through his quick-witted use of drainage systems.

The literary and artistic scene is dominated by Robert Herrick, whose poetry is inextricably linked to the "soft and luxurious air" of Dean Prior, and the painter Sir Joshua Reynolds, whose early sketches in the Plympton grammar school provide a window into the formative years of a genius. Finally, there is the unnamed "little man" of Brixham, a tragicomic figure whose foolishness and subsequent social ruin serve as a cautionary tale about the perils of ambition and the fickle nature of royal favor. These individuals, whether remembered for their power or their pathos, illustrate the diverse social fabric of the county.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the ancient carvings in Plymouth, the text recounts the local belief in their significance as a historical marker:

Carew, in his Survey of Cornwall, says: “Moreover, vpon the Hawe at Plymmouth, there is cut out in ground the pourtrayture of two men, the one bigger, the one lesser, with clubbes in their hands (whom they terme Gogmagog), and (as I have learned) it is renewed by order of the Townesmen when cause requireth, which should inferre the same to be a monument of some moment.”

In discussing the poet Robert Herrick and the charm of his Devonshire home, the author muses on the authenticity of his work:

There is a very distinct Herrickian ring about them, particularly about the last three, which to my mind is almost unmistakeable.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an meditation on the tension between the enduring nature of physical memory and the inevitable erosion of time. It explores how a society constructs its identity through the marriage of myth and historical record—whether by claiming descent from Trojan heroes or by building grand castles that eventually fall into ruin. The book asks how a community maintains its character when its primary industries, like the wool trade or lace-making, vanish or migrate. It is an argument for the importance of the local, suggesting that the most meaningful history is not found in grand national narratives, but in the specific, often eccentric details of a parish church, a schoolroom, or an old well.

Why Read It Today

This book is for those who enjoy the feeling of wandering through a quiet, historic town and wondering about the lives of the people who walked the streets before them. It captures the atmosphere of a fading, rural England, blending scholarly research with the kind of local gossip and folklore that rarely makes it into modern textbooks. Reading it feels like being guided by a knowledgeable, slightly opinionated local historian who is just as interested in an old epitaph as he is in a major military siege.

The book does present challenges. The writing style is formal and reflective of an earlier era, and the text is dense with 19th-century conventions, including occasionally challenging dialect and references to obscure historical figures. Readers expecting a fast-paced, modern history will find the prose meandering and deliberate, as it often pauses to discuss the minutiae of architecture or the validity of a particular footnote. However, for those who value depth, period detail, and the quiet pleasure of uncovering the ghosts of the past, this work offers a rich and rewarding experience. It reminds the reader that beneath the surface of the modern world, there lies a deep, intricate history waiting to be rediscovered.