INTRODUCTION
Researchers often find difficulty in obtaining first-hand accounts of life in past times which provide a more immediate and personal picture than official records or histories written after the event. This web page makes a small start in bringing together first person accounts of Devon or by Devonians from across the centuries which shed light on historical and everyday events in Devon's past. Apart from autobiographies or personal reminiscences - often composed long after the events remembered and hence subject to a degree of distortion - there are letters, diaries, and minutes of evidence to enquiries. There is also a distortion of coverage in some periods with a preponderance of clerymen in the 19th century for example.

Please let us know of any addtional sources, preferably printed, with details of the period covered, the places referred to and any main themes of interest. Any corrections will also be gratefully received. We have not been able to read the items listed in detail and the date span may not always be reliable.

READING LIST

716-755. The English Correspondence of Saint Boniface, translated and edited with an introductory sketch of the Saint's life by Edward Kylie (London: Chatto & Windus, 1911). WSL: s920/BON

1447-1450. Letters and Papers of John Shillingford, Mayor of Exeter 1447-50, edited by Stuart A. Moore, (London: Printed for the Camden Society, 1871)

1604-1628. Colyton. Yonge, Walter. The diary (London: Camden Society, 1848).

1685. Barnstaple asylum seeker. Fontaine, James. Memoirs of a Huguenot family (Bungay: Morrow, 1986). WSL: s929.2/FON

1698. The Journeys of Celia Fiennes, edited and with an introduction by Christopher Morris, (London: The Cresset Press, 1947), Part 3, chapter 10: Through Devonshire to Land's End, pp. 247-248.

1725-1770. Exeter. Andrew Brice, printer of Exeter: an agreeable biographical gallimaufry in: Lives in print (Oak Knoll Press, 2002) and on web at http://www.devon.gov.uk/library/locstudy/bookhist/brice.html

1739-1789. Wesley, John. John Wesley in Devon (Bideford: M.Wickes, 1985)

1751-1775. The Letters of Eliza Pierce 1751-1775, (London, Frederick Etchells & Hugh Macdonald,1927)

1765-1772. Exeter. Hamilton, Anne. Memoirs of a gentlewoman of the old school (London: Hurst, Chance & Co., 1830) Vol. 1. WSL: s920/HAM

1778-1844. Beer and east Devon coast. Rattenbury, John. Memoirs of a smuggler (Sidmouth: Haney, 1837). Reprinted with historical notes: Hathaway, Eileen. Smuggler: John Rattenbury and his adventures (Swanage: Shinglepicker, 1994)

1792-1811. Exeter. Bowring, Sir John. Autobiographical recollections (London: King, 1811)

1815. Dartmoor Prison. Palmer, Benjamin F. The diary (Acorn Club, 19144). WSL: s920/PAL

1820-1848. Tavistock and literary society. Bray, Anna Eliza. Autobiography (London: Chapman & Hall, 1884). WSL: s920/BRA

1838-1845. Wollocombe, John B. From morn till eve (London: Skeffington, 1898). WSL: s920/WOL

1836-1841. Totnes. Chaster, John. The Chaster diary (Totnes: Bellchambers, 1995).

1843. Reports of Special Assistant Poor Law Commissioners on the Employment of Women and children in Agriculture. Presented to both houses of Parliament by Command of Her Majesty, (London : Printed by W. Clowes and Sons, for Her Majesty's Stationery Office, 1843)

1840-1920. Lustleigh. Torr, Cecil. Small Talk at Wreyland (Cambridge University Press, 1923)

1844. Uffculme. Were, John. The diary of a Devonshire squire (Tiverton: W.P.Authers, 1982)

1847-1895. Thornton, W.H. Reminiscences and reflections of an old West-Country clergyman (Torquay : Andrew Iredale, 1897). Second series (1899). WSL: s920/THO

1852-1901. Bond, P.G. Autobiographical and other sketches (1902). WSL: s920/BON

1865-1870. Exmoor. Bradley, Arthur Granville. Exmoor memories 2nd ed. (London: Methuen, 1926) WSL: sE/EXM/1926/BRA

1871-1931. Tiverton. Gregory, Alfred T. Recollections of a country editor (Tiverton Gazette, 1932). WSL: s920/GRE

1892-1976. North Devon farming. Ley, John Carter. The story of my life (Ilfracombe: A.H.Stockwell, 1978). WSL: s920/LEY

1915-1940. Exmouth. Beer, Patricia. Mrs Beer's house (London: Hutchinson, 1978)

1907-1918. Sidmouth. Reynolds, Stephen. Letters (London: Hogarth press, 1923). WSL: s826/REY

1927-1931. Dartmoor. Griffiths, Grace. The days of my freedom (Tadworth: World's Work, 1978). WSL: s920/GRI

1939-1945. Devon's testimony of war (Devon Books, 1994). Selections on Devon's website.

ANTHOLOGY

c.745. Boniface asks Huetberht, Abbot of Wearmouth and Jarrow, to send him the works of Bede and a cloak. St Boniface was born near Crediton, Devon in about 680 and became a missionary in Germany.

To the most beloved and revered brother Abbot Huetberht and all the brothers of his holy congregation, Boniface, poor servant of the servants of God, greetings of fraternal love in Christ.

With the most earnest entreaties, we ask of your fraternal piety that you aid us with your holy prayers, while we toil among the wild and ignorant people of Germany and plant the gospel-seed, so that by your prayers the cruel rage of Babylonian fire may be quenched in us and the seed scattered in the furrows may spring up and multiply in the harvest. In the words of the apostle: "Neither is he that planteth anything, neither he that watereth, but God that giveth the increase: that utterance may be given unto us and the word of the Lord may have free course and be glorified".

Meanwhile we ask that you should deign to send us copies of the works of the monk Bede, that wise investigator of the Scriptures, who, as we have heard, through his knowledge of the Scriptures, but lately shone among you a candle of the church in the house of the Lord. We ask you also, if it is not too much trouble, to send a cloak, a great comfort in our exile. We have sent you as a token of deep affection some reading-desks of goat's-horn, as they call them here. These, though they are unworthy, we beg of you to accept for memory's sake.

May the merciful Trinity and one God keep you well, and advancing in virtue; and may He make you glorious in happiness to come, among the bright ranks of the angels.

From: The English Correspondence of Saint Boniface, translated and edited with an introductory sketch of the Saint's life by Edward Kylie (London: Chatto & Windus, 1911), 141-142.

I of myself can a true tale relate,
my fortunes recount, how I in days of toil,
a time of hardship oft suffer'd,
bitter breast-cares have endur'd,
prov'd in the ship strange mishaps many.
The fell rolling of the waves has me there oft drench'd:
an anxious night-watch, at the vessel's prow,
when on the cliffs it strikes, pierc'd with cold
were my feet, bound with frost,
with cold bonds. There cares sigh'd
hot round my heart, hunger tore me within,
the sea-wolf's rage. That the man knows not,
to whom on land all falls out most joyfully,
how I miserable and sad, on the ice-cold sea
a winter pass'd with exile traces.

From: Codex Exoniensis. A Collection of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, from a manuscript in the library of the Dean and Chapter of Exeter, with an English Translation, Notes, and Indexes, by Benjamin Thorpe, (Published for the Society of Antiquaries, by William Pickering, 1842), 306. This early translation of the alliterative verse aims at a literal rendering rather than poetic effect.

1447. John Shillingford, Mayor of Exeter drafts a letter to his fellows at Exeter when in London representing the Corporation in a dispute with the Cathedral over a right of way. He left Exeter on Friday, and came to London on Tuesday at seven o'clock, and laboured to make answer to the articles, which he sends for approval.

Worthy sires y grete yow well alle; doyng yow to understonde that y rode fro Excetre on Fryday and cam to London on Tywysday by tyme at vii atte cloke; and ther sithenys have full bisily labored to make an answere to the articulys. The cause of so longe taryng yn makyng of the answers hath be for right grete bysynes yt Alisaunder Hody hath hadde aboute his awne maters; netheles by the avys of Alisaunder Hody and Dowrisshe and Roger Rawly, [they] beth make as may be yn so shorte tyme, trustyng to God that al the substance ys comprehended ther ynne, so that what tyme hit is amended, corected and made by avys of counseyll to be right well; of the whiche anweris so shortely make y sende to yow ij.copies, oon to be send to the Recorder yn hast yf hit may be for shortenys of tyme, &c., that other copy to abide wt yow, prayng yow Thomas Cook most specially wt the lu tenaunt, callyng to yow William Nobel, Coteler`, Druell, and other wham ye seme is to be don, and that this answer be sadly over seyn; and yf eny thyng be theryn to myche or to litell yn substance to sette the penne to sadly. This don y pray yow to calle be fore yow atte halle the substance of the comminalte, praynge every of tham yn my name and chargyng tham yn the most streytest wyse yn the Kynges byhalf to come to fore yow yn haste for the tydyngs that y have sent home to yow; and that ye wysely declare to fore tham these answers: so that they sey manly yee and nay yn suche poyntes as yow thynke to be don, &c. and that they wyll abide by the answers yn all wyse, and that labor and spekyng be before to that entent. This don y pray yow that y have a gode man sende to me yn hast.

From: Letters and Papers of John Shillingford, Mayor of Exeter 1447-50, edited by Stuart A. Moore, (London: Printed for the Camden Society, 1871), 3-4

Mr. Duke,

I wrote to Mr. Prideaux to move yow touchinge the purchase of a farme sometime in my Fathers possession. I will most willingly give whatsoever in your conscience you shall deeme it worth; and if at any time you shall have occasion to use me, yow shall fynd me a thankefull frind to yow and yours.

I am resolved, if I cannot entreat yow, to build at Colliton. But for the naturall disposition I have to that place, being borne in that house, I had rather seate my sealf there then any where els. So I take my leve, readie to countervaile all your courtesies to the uttermost of my power. From the Court, the xxvi of July, 1584.

Your very willing frind in all I shalbe able,

W. Ralegh

From: The Life of Sir Walter Ralegh. Based on contemporary documents preserved in the Rolls House, The Privy Council Office, Hatfield House, The British Museum, and other manuscript repositories, British and foreign. Together with his letters; now first collected, by Edward Edwards. Vol. II. - Letter, (London: Macmillan and Co., 1868), 26. As transcribed from the Original by John Aubrey. MS. Aubrey iv. f.47 (Bodleian Library, Oxford). The original letter was, for a time, kept at Hayes, and was shown to visitors.

1645. The cheap reduction of Tiverton-castle, by a strange providence. The events of 18 and 19 October 1645, as narrated by Colonel Nathaniel Fiennes in a work issued under the name of Fairfax's chaplain Joshua Sprigge.

But to return to my story. Saturday, October 18, much of the time was spent in raising of batteries against Tiverton church and castle: the general, with major-general Massey, oftentimes that day viewed the works, castle, and church, for the ordering of the batteries and approaches. A spy was this day from the castle let down in a rope; and being taken by our guards, threw his letter by the water side: but being threatened, discovered where the letter was; which being found (where he had thrown it) was read: it was directed to sir John Berkeley, governor of Excester; it discovered the resolution of sir Gilbert Talbot to hold out, but yet he desired relief of sir John Berkeley.

Lord's day, October 19, the general went early to see to the batteries, and the ordnance being ready planted, a council of war was called, wherein it was agreed to storm the church, castle, and works; and being in debate of the manner of the storm, (which was that afternoon to be put in execution,) our ordnance playing hard against the works and castle, the chain of the drawbridge with a round shot was broken in two, whereupon the bridge fell down, and our men immediately, without staying for orders, possessed themselves of the bridge, and entered the works, and possessed the churchyard, which so terrified the enemy, that it make them quit their ordnance, and some of their posts and line, and instantly fled into the church and castle; our men got over the rest of the bulwarks and line, and pursued the enemy into the church and castle, where they cried out in a lamentable manner for quarter; our soldiers crept in a the church windows, (they having made fast the doors,) and made all within prisoners, plundered them, and stripped most of them to their shirts, yet gave them their lives. The governor, who had formerly received a summons, but peremptorily refused to hearken to any treaty of surrender, (though he despaired of any relief,) shut himself up into his chamber in the castle, and hung out a white flag for a parley; but being now too late, it would not be hearkened to, (such was the fury of the soldier,) yet when they got into the castle, and came to the place where he was, they gave him fair quarter.

From: Anglia Rediviva; England's Recovery: Being the History of the Motions, Actions, and Successes of the Army under the immediate conduct of His Excellency Sir Thomas Fairfax, Kt. Captain-General of all the Parliament's Forces in England, compiled for the Public Good by Joshua Sprigg, M.A.London, M.DC.XLVIII. New Edition, (Oxford: At the University Press, 1854), chapter 4, pp154-155

Immediately after the Prince gave us a sign to close, and we sailed that night as far as Beachy, and commanded us to follow the Signal by Lights he had hung out to us, viz. all the small Sail should come up to him by morning.

By the morning-day we espied the Isle of Wight, and then the Prince ordered the Fleet to be drawn into the same posture as before related: yet not stretching above half Channel over in this place. About five in the morning we make the Start, the Wind chopping about to the Westward; upon which we stood fair by Dartmouth, and so made for Tor-bay, where the Prince again ordered the whole Fleet into the same posture as at Dover and Callis.

Upon his arrival at Tor-bay, the People on Land, in great numbers, welcom'd his Highness with loud Acclamations of Joy.

Immediately after the Prince gave two Signals, that the Admirals should come aboard him, which they did; and then order'd, that the whole Fleet should come to an Anchor, and immediately Land; and further order'd , that the Admirals should stand out at Sea as a Guard, as well as the smaller Men of War to Attend and Guard their Landing; and also order'd six Men of War to run in to Guard Tor-bay.

The Prince then put out a Red Flag at the Misen-yard-arm; and provided to land in sixty boats, laid ready for that purpose: Upon which the Prince signified, that General Mackay with his six Regiments of English and Scots should first land; and also, that the little Porpus with eighteen Guns should run a-ground to secure their Landing: But there was no Opposition; for the People bid us Heartily Welcome to England; and gave us all manner of Provisions for our Refreshment.

The fifth of November (a day never to be blotted out of the English-man's Heart) the Prince caused to be landed about 2000: The Country bringing in all manner of Provision both for Man and Horse, and were paid their Price honestly for it.

From: "The Expedition of His Highness the Prince of Orange for England", printed in A Third Collection of Papers relating to the Present Juncture of Affairs in England, (London: Rich. Janeway, 1688), 3-4

1688. Letters from Richard Lapthorne in London to Richard Coffin in Portledge, north Devon, on hearing of the arrival of William of Orange in Devon. The upheaval does not prevent his continued efforts to acquire books for Coffin's library.

November 17th 1688

This day as I am informed came out a proclamation for the putting off of Exeter Faire but I did not see it.

His Majesty went for Windsor this afternoone and I am told the prince of Wales is also removed out of towne this day.

November 24th 1688

I was at Mr. Litlebury's this morning where I saw Kirchers parallela Latii a very faire one but will not bate one penny of 25s. its a scarce booke. I have not yet bought it. There was lately a skirmish neere Wincanton twixt a part of the Kings and Prince of Oranges army. the Kings comanded by Captaine Sarsfeild who had the better.

December 1st 1688

The whole Kingdom lyes under a great convulsion at this tyme all parts of it in great disorder. God alone knows what the issue wilbe. Wee heare that Lord Hallifax, Lord Nottingham and Lord Godolphin are going Comissioners from His Majesty to treat with the Prince of Orange who its sayd will this night lodge at the Lord Abington's house in wiltshire. this day issued a proclamation for a parliament according to the Chancellors relation in Westminster Hall.

From: The Portledge Papers: being extracts from the letters of Richard Lapthorne, Gent, of Hatton Garden London, to Richard Coffin Esq. of Portledge, Bideford, Devon from December 10th 1687 - August 7th 1697. Edited by Russell J. Kerr & Ida Coffin Duncan, (London, Jonathan Cape), 50.

This Citty does exceedingly resemble London for, besides these buildings I mention'd for the severall Markets, there is an Exchange full of shops like our Exchanges are, only its one walke along as was the Exchange at Salisbury House in the Strand; there is also a very large space railed in just by the Cathedrall, with walks round it, which is called the Exchange for Merchants, that constantly meete twice a day just as they do in London; there are 17 Churches in the Citty and 7 in the subburbs; there is some remaines of the Castle walls, they make use of the rooms within side for the assizes; there is the two barrs besides, being large rooms with seates and places convenient, and jury roome; here is a large walke at the entrance between rowes of pillars; there is besides this just at the market place a Guild Hall the entrance of which is a large place set on stone pillars, beyond which are the roomes for the session or any town affaires to be adjusted; behind this building there is a vast Cistern which holds upwards of 600 hodsheads of water which supplyes by pipes the whole Citty, this Cistern is replenish'd from the river which is on purpose turned into a little channell by it self to turn the mill and fills the Engine that casts the water into the truncks which convey it to this Cistern; the Water Engine is like those at Islington at Darby as I have seen, and is what now they make use of in diverse places either to supply them with water or to draine a marsh or overplus of water.

From: The Journeys of Celia Fiennes, edited and with an introduction by Christopher Morris, (London: The Cresset Press, 1947), Part 3, chapter 10: Through Devonshire to Land's End, pp. 247-248.

Sir,

I should have answer'd your Letter sooner had I not been pretty well employ'd last week on account of one of our Maids having the small Pox, who died Friday evening, and unluckily at the same time the Housekeeper was confin'd to her Bed in an inflamation; so that both myself & my Wise Maid have had enough to do I call her my wise Maid, because since the Girls death, she has taken it into her Head that she should have the disorder, tho' she was inocculated about three years ago, and had them very thick. this has provoked me & done me more harm than any thing else, as she wou'd sit like a dead thing, and no reasons had any effect on her, - however she now begins to find nothing really ails her & to move about again as usual - I declare I began to fear what effect the force of imagination wou'd have on her, & am convinced that had she had the least real complaint, or any feverish disorder that the College of Physicians could not have saved her Life, so strongly was she prepossessed she would have the small Pox - it is a most provoking thing that when there is so much trouble in a family people should add to it by such whimseys ...

From: The Letters of Eliza Pierce 1751-1775, (London, Frederick Etchells & Hugh Macdonald,1927), 89.

Not long after my return home I made an agreement with four French officers, who had escaped from the prison at Tiverton. I was to take them to Cape La Hogue, for which I was to receive £100. They came to Beer and I concealed them in a house near the beach, where I supplied them with such provisions as they wanted. However, a vigilant enquiry had commenced, their steps were traced, and the place of their retreat discovered.

The next morning, a special warrant was issued against myself as the captain of the boat, and five others connected with the affair. The constables came to my house while I was upstairs considering how best to act. My companions had absconded. I surrendered myself and was taken before the magistrates. There I found the French gentlemen in custody. They were examined through an interpreter, but their replies were cautious and they said very little that would implicate me in the transaction.

My turn then came and, in reply to the questions from the bench, I briefly stated that I had been engaged to take the gentlemen to Jersey, of which island I understood they were natives. A lieutenant of the sea-fencibles was in the room.

"Don't you know a native of Jersey from a Frenchman?" he asked me.

I would have replied but my attorney, who was present, said that he had no right to ask the question and therefore I did not have to answer it. The magistrates conferred and, after a little consultation, dismissed me with a gentle admonition to go home and not engage in a similar transaction in the future.

From: Memoirs of a smuggler, by John Rattenbury (Sidmouth: Haney, 1837)

My father was a farm-labourer at Bridford. I am 41. I cannot read or write. I was apprenticed to Matthew Coleridge, of Bridford, when I was nine years old. My master died when I was 14; I was not apprenticed afterwards. When I first went, there were two boys and a girl apprentices. The girls slept in our master's daughter's room, the boys in another room. We had to go through the boys' room to our room. Three of us slept in one bed: the four boys slept in one bed.

The family got their dinner all together, and supper too. There was no difference in the meat, and we always had wheaten pudding. There was wheaten bread ready, if anybody came in. I lived much better there than I should have done at home. We might go to the bread and cheese whenever we liked, any of us. We were not clothed very well. I didn't go to church for a long time, not for three years, and then because the clergyman interfered: then we got better clothes for Sunday. We were never taught to read prayers, and we never said our catechism: people were not so strict in those days as now. It is a good thing for children to read and write; it keeps them out of mischief. Most all my children go to school.

I used to be employed when I was apprenticed in driving bullocks to field, and fetching them in again; cleaning out their houses, and bedding them up; washing potatoes and boiling them for pigs; milking; in the fields leading horses or bullocks to plough: maidens would not like that work now. Then I was employed in mixing lime and earth to spread, digging potatoes, digging and pulling turnips, and anything that came to hand, like a boy. I reaped a little, not much: loaded pack-horses; went out with horses for furze. I got up at five or six, except on market mornings twice a week, and then at three. I went to bed at half-past nine.

I worked more in the fields than in the house. When my master died, I went as a servant at Blackiston for two year. I was treated very bad there: the people beat their servants. I used to be beat black and blue. The servants beat me; my master used to bang me. I never was much hurt. I never complained to a magistrate. I told my father and mother, and they told me to be a better maiden next time. Apprentices were treated worse: two, without fathers to look after them, were beat with a stick for anything that happened. One maiden had her arm cut to the bone with a stick the young master cut out of the hedge at the time, for not harrowing right, for not leaving enough for a harrow to go back again. That went to a justice: master was fined 5l., and had to pay the doctor's bill. The 5l. was given away in bread to the poor. The parish did not bind any apprentices after that.

I married at 19; my husband was 24. We have got six children; the eldest a boy of 22. He was apprenticed when nine to Mr.Emmens, of Bridford, until he was 21. It was a very good place indeed: the boy was always comfortable; he liked being with his master.

I worked in the fields many years after I married; lately I have done washing. I think washing is harder than working in the fields.

I think it was a good thing for young boys and girls to be apprenticed; now they are not brought up to learn anything. If they are bound out, and get good places, they can't do better; but bad places are very bad. Apprentices were not so well attended to as they are now; they were sometimes very badly treated.

From: Reports of Special Assistant Poor Law Commissioners on the Employment of Women and children in Agriculture. Presented to both houses of Parliament by Command of Her Majesty, (London : Printed by W. Clowes and Sons, for Her Majesty's Stationery Office, 1843), p109.

I took up with another mate and worked on to Exeter. I think my new mate was a regular prig, for it was through his putting me up to prigging that I got into trouble there. This chap put me on to taking a brass cock from a foundry. It was in a big wooden butt, with 150 gallons of water in it. I got over a gate and pulled it out, and set all the foundry afloat. We cut away, but hours afterwards the policemen come to the lodging-house, and though there was lots of boys and girls, he picked me out, and I had two months for it, and all my hair was cut off, and I only had dry bread and gruel every day, and soup twice a-week. I was jolly sorry for that cock business when I was caught, and I made up my mind never to take nothing more. It's going to the lodging-houses that puts fellows up to prigging. The chaps brings in legs of beef, and puddens, and clothes, and then they sells 'em cheap. You can sometimes buy a pair of breeches worth ten shillings, for two bob, for the chaps don't like to take 'em to sell at the shops, and would sooner sell 'em for a'most nothing rather than be found out.

When I came out of quod I had a shilling give me, and I went and bought a penny whistle.I was always fond of music and dancing, and I know'd a little of playing the whistle. Mother and father was both uncommon fond of dancing and music, and used to go out dancing and to concerts, near every night pretty well, after they'd locked the shop up. I made about eleven bob the first week I was out, for I was doing very well of a night, though I had no hair on my head. I didn't do no dancing, but I knew about six tunes, such as 'Rory O'More' and 'The Girl I left behind me'. ...

People was astonished at seeing a tune played on a tin whistle and gave pretty liberal. I believe I was the first as ever got a living on a tin whistle. Now there's more. It was at that time as I took to selling whistles. I carried 'em on a tin tray before me, and a lid used to shut on it, fixed. I'd pitch before a hotel amongst the gentlemen, and I'd get 2d. a-piece for the whistles, and some would give me sixpence or a shilling, just according. The young gents was them as bought most, and they'd begin playing on them, and afterwads give them to the young ladies passing. They was very pleased with me, for I was so little, and I done well. The first two months I made about 17s. of 18s. a-week, but after that they got rather dull, so I gived up selling of them and took to dancing. It didn't pay me as well as the whistles, for it was pretty near all profit on them - they only cost me 3d. a-dozen. I travelled all round Devonshire, and down to Land's End in Cornwall - 320 miles from London, and kept on playing the whistle on the road. I knew all about them parts. I generally pitched before the hotels and spirit-shops, and began whistling and dancing; but sometimes I'd give the cottagers a turn, and they'd generally hand over a ha'penny a-piece and some bread.

From: London labour and the London poor, by Henry Mayhew, (London, 1851).

This morning, long before daybreak, the noises which continue more or less throughout the day and finish with a tremendous "bang" some time before midnight, disturbed the drowsy citizens, and occasioned more early rising than good temper in many an amiable family. It's all very fine in summer to be up with the lark, but on a damp November morning, when the fog is ever so thick that the lark can't get up at all, if he ever felt so well disposed, it's no joke to be aroused to the sense of external dreariness and moisture some hours before the sun reaches our horizon. However there is just this consolation - matters might, perhaps, have been much worse with us if James and his Parliament had been disposed of by Guido and his crew: so let us be thankful, and let the juveniles fire away with all their hearts, and Young Exeter rejoice in the Protestantism of the nation. By the bye, we observe that Young Exeter has issued a handbill, inviting people to the Yard tonight, and also requesting that all persons will abstain from firing rockets in the streets, rolling tar barrels, or being gulity of any other lawless proceeding. This is all very proper - also their prayer, "God save the Queen." It was thoughtlessness, we suppose, which permitted the inserting of the concluding line, "The Devil take the Pope." Young Exeter have no desire whatever that such a sad fate befal his Holiness; but they may depend upon it that persons who wish to prove Protestantism intolerant, will not fail to make good use of such bills throughout the continent as evidence of the "prevailing spirit" amongst the English. Everybody in Exeter knows that it was intended as part of the spree; other people who do not know Young Exeter may have some difficulty in comprehending the joke.

From: Exeter Flying Post, 6 Nov 1856. Guy Fawkes celebrations in Exeter were attended by much high spirits and demonstrations of "anti-Popery" which are fortunately a thing of the past in Devon today.

Time seemed to be of very little value when I first knew the place. After the railway had been made (1866) my grandfather took his time from the station clock - he could see the hands with his big telescope, looking over from a stile near here. Till then he took it from the sun-dial: he writes to my father, 16 January 1853, "My watch has taken to lose lately: unfortunately the sun does not give me an opportunity to see about the time ... I shall depend on my own time as soon as the sun will give it me". Though the sun gave him his time, he allowed for the equation; but many of the people here ignored the difference between mean time and solar time. The equation varies from fourteen minutes one way to sixteen minutes the other; and a variation of only half an hour was hardly worth considering in a sleepy place like this. He writes on 14 January 1851, "My watch kept stopping and brought me late to meals, and I had the frowns of the folks: so returned to the old one, which is sure to bring me home in time, as it gains a half-hour in a day".

After the railway came, the trains proclaimed the hours, as most people knew the time-tables approximately, calling the 8.19 the 8, the 11.37 the 12, etc. - odd minutes did not count. As the trains upon this branch were 'mixed', partly passenger and partly goods, there generally was some shunting to be done; but this caused no delay, as the time-tables allowed for it. If there was no shunting, the train just waited at the station till the specified time was up. The driver of the evening train would often give displays of hooting with the engine whistle while he was stopping here, and would stay on over time if the owls were answering back.

Small Talk at Wreyland. Third series, by Cecil Torr, (Cambridge University Press, 1923), 12

Cart horses were very dear in 1871, and the people about North Bovey asked me seventy pounds for a good one, so one morning I put on a black tie and grey coat, and accompanied by my little daughter Florence, started very early for Crediton. I left the child with an old servant who was married to a painter in the town, an started on foot to Stockleigh English, where there was a sale of farm stock, with many horses included.

I gave a couple of shillings to an old labourer, and after asking particularly about the cows, said casually, "Are any of the horses good for anything?" and he told me that a bay and a grey mare were excellent farm horses, so I bought them both for fifty-eight pounds, and told my North Bovey friends on my return that I could buy better abroad than at home.

From: Reminiscences and Reflections of an Old West-Country Clergyman, by W .H. Thornton. (Torquay : Andrew Iredale, 1897.) Chapter VIII, p. 267

I only wish you were here with me my lad, in this bonny county and its capital. I envy these people their fruitful lands and their lovely coast; and this picturesque old city, with its grand cathedral. I have hardly yet made up my mind about the natives themselves. Some of them are very hearty and jolly, but there is a kind of slowness about them that I don't quite understand: and they are too lazy to articulate their syllables and consonants, which is a sad fault. ... They have had a little Art Exhibition here, which has just come to a melancholy end, partly it seems through the Exeter people not caring much for pictures, but more through bad management; the entire control (would you believe it?) being in the hands of amateurs and laymen! They seem to have a queer notion here, that trained artists do not understand their own art, and that amateurs in are in some mysterious manner qualified to select and hang pictures and award prizes. What would you say to this system up the country or in London? Is it any wonder that the result is a failure? It has been quite melancholy the last week or two, to see the splendid new gallery deserted, and four attendants occupied in waiting on the public that don't come. One of the said attendants waits to sell catalogues and take sticks, another to take the money, a third to take checks, and a fourth to walk about the rooms and look occasionally at a picture, as representing the said public, should a solitary visitor enter. This desertion is partly due to the determination of the committee not to admit for less than one shilling even during the last week. Saturday afternoons artizans have been admitted for sixpence and women and children for threepence. But I am told that hundreds of young people especially of the gentler sex would have been glad to go at sixpence who hardly care to go under the heading of women and children at threepence. But you see if half-a-dozen young girls feel disinclined to pay a shilling each they are no longer ladies, but become threepenny women. How absurd not to have admitted for the last week at sixpence for all alike.

From: Echoes of the Exe, 9 Oct 1885.

The Blitz ... Exeter had several attacks by air and although we heard Lord Hawhaw, the German Propagandist, over the radio say "the streets of Exeter, 'the Golden City of the West' would run with blood", we doubted it would. How wrong we were! The sirens sounded that awful night in May but my sisters and I decided not to get up. My mother had got my younger brothers from their beds and kept calling for us to come down, and then the first bomb came down. It sounded so close we fell out of bed, down the stairs and into the Morrison Shelter, not before the second bomb came down. It was the most terrifying experience.

The bombs whistled down one after another. We were all crammed in, eight of us including my mother. Father was outside doing his duty and stayed there until it was all over, two and half hours of hell. My mother was screaming for him to come in and my youngest brother seemed to do a somersault with every bomb, putting his little head down and covering his ears with his hands. As the eldest I tried to protect him, my mother did her best with my youngest sister who was about five years old. We clung to each other as the planes roared above us dropping their evil weapons. Suddenly there was an almighty explosion, much worse than the others. I think we all died for a moment. Everyone was deathly quiet and we thought the end was near, but no, the bombs continued until at last the planes died away. Still we sat in that little cramped container too frightened to move when my father came in and told us it seemed to be all over. We crawled out one by one too dazed and frightened for words. Then we looked out of the window and someone screamed "Our school is on fire!" The sky was bright red but it turned out later, it wasn't the school, but the almost complete destruction of the city. Our front door had been blown off its hinges and the bedroom ceilings fallen down on our beds, but apart from that it was the only damage to our house.

The next day my father and I tried to get to work, not knowing the full extent of the damage. We lived overlooking the higher cemetery so we walked up Pinhoe Road and there, halfway up, were the results of the very loud explosion, several houses, six I believe, had been demolished by a land mine. The ambulances were there and the dead bodies were being brought out. To a sixteen year old it was nauseating. In those days in the early forties, we knew little about death, not having televisions. We continued to the top of Sidwell Street, many roads were cordoned off with 'unexploded bomb' notices, and there before out eyes was the 'Golden City' completely in ruins. We could see as far as the Cathedral and there, it stood out in all its glory amidst the rubble of Exeter, proud and defiant, a comfort to us all - a sight I shall never forget. I looked at my father as he stood there quietly weeping and then we both wept. We made our way home but not before noticing a body, covered with a sheet awaiting collection on the pavement. Where once rows and rows of little houses stood called Newtown they now lay flattened to the ground.

From: Devon's testimony of war (Devon Books, 1994), 19-20

The historical extracts were prepared by Rhiannon Henderson during a work placement with the Library Service.