The Cathedral Church of St. Peter, Exeter.

FROM SOUTH-EAST.

In the days of the so-called Heptarchy, the divisions of the Church followed those of the State. The diocese of Lichfield was conterminous with the kingdom of Mercia. In the same way the diocese of Winchester was coextensive with the kingdom of Wessex. Thus Devonshire, so far as it had been colonised by Anglo-Saxons before the eighth century, formed part of the diocese of Winchester. But these vast dioceses were too cumbrous to work. They had to be subdivided. So a western diocese was lopped off from Winchester, and a Bishop of Sherborne was appointed as its head. Then, as the far west grew in population and importance, two more bishoprics were created—those of Crediton and Cornwall. These two, however, were soon amalgamated; and Cornwall has had no bishop of its own from the Conquest till the recent formation of the Bishopric of Truro.

Just before the Norman Conquest Bishop Leofric removed the see from the open town of Crediton to the walled city of Exeter, largely in consequence of attacks of Scandinavian pirates. At Exeter Leofric found a Benedictine monastery,dedicated to St. Mary and St. Peter. This conventual church he made his cathedral. “He was installed in the episcopal chair by Edward the Confessor, who supported his right arm, and Queen Eadgytha his left”; representations of which were inserted in the fourteenth-century sedilia. The Benedictine monks were removed by the Confessor to his new abbey at Westminster, and Leofric supplied their place by a body of secular canons, who lived together, however, and to some extent observed monastic discipline. Leofric was left undisturbed in his bishopric till his death, 1072. His successor, also, though a Norman, was English and conservative by training; the venerable Anglo-Saxon church was good enough for him. But William Warelwast (1107-1128) was a great building prelate, and it was he who commenced the existing cathedral. Exeter Cathedral, therefore, was commenced much later than most of the Norman cathedrals. This Norman cathedral of Warelwast seems to have been partly remodelled in the early years of the Lancet period (1194-1206) by Bishop Marshall. Later, but still in the Lancet period, Bishop Bruere (1224-1244) settled the cathedral establishment, and provided for his dignitaries a chapter-house, as well as stalls in the cathedral. In the Geometrical period Bishop Bronescombe (1257-1280) seems to have made a few changes at the east end of the choir. Then came the great builder of all, Bishop Quivil, who formed the bold idea of remodelling the whole cathedral, as left by Bishop Marshall. The work which Bishop Quivil commenced was carried out, and precisely in accordance with the original plans, by Bishops Bitton, Stapledon, and Grandisson, who completed the transformation of the cathedral about 1350. Other great prelates did good work later—especially Brantyngham, Stafford, Lacy, Bothe, Courtenay, Fox, King, and Oldham. The Bishops of Exeter were in nearly all cases men of the highest ability, rank, and importance.

Up to 1551 Exeter was one of the greatest prizes in the Church of England. It possessed thirty-two manors, fourteenpalaces—two in Cornwall, nine in Devonshire, one in Surrey, one in London, of which Essex Street, Strand, is a reminder. The present value of the income of the see would be at least £100,000. The first of the Protestant bishops was Miles Coverdale, who with Tyndale translated the Bible. Seth Ward (1662-1667) “cast out the buyers and sellers who had usurped the cathedral, and therein kept distinct shops to vend their wares.” In the evil days of the Puritans the cathedral had been divided into two churches by a vast whitewashed wall, built on the choir-screen and separating choir from nave. The Independents worshipped in the nave, the Presbyterians in the choir. Here they had what they called “great quiet and comfort,” till Seth Ward pulled the wall down. Seth Ward’s restoration of the cathedral cost him £25,000—representing a far greater sum nowadays. He put the cathedral in substantial repair; and the restoration by Sir G. G. Scott, in 1870, did little damage.

Nothing remains of the church of the Anglo-Saxon monastery; nor is there any Early Norman work, for, as we have seen, that church was allowed to remain standing till the year 1107. But in the first half of the twelfth century a Norman cathedral was commenced, and possibly finished, by William Warelwast and his successors. That cathedral included both the existing towers; it also included an aisled nave of the same dimensions as the present one. The narrowed span of the westernmost arches of the pier arcade is to be accounted for only on the supposition of the existence, to the west, of the wall of a pre-existing west front (cf. Lincoln nave). Also traces of Norman buttresses and pilasters, and one base, have been found in the walls of the north and south aisles of the nave. And traces of an apse have been found at the end of the third bay of the choir. So it is plain that the twelfth-century cathedral had west front, nave and aisles,transeptal towers, a choir of three bays, an apse at the end of the choir, and probably some minor apses.

CHOIR.

Great works were commenced between 1194 and 1206; they extend over a large part of the cathedral. First, there is the doorway, early Lancet, leading from the south aisle of the nave to the cloister, near the north-west corner of the south tower; and near here, on the south wall of the nave, are several consecration crosses of Marshall’s date. Then, passing round or through the cathedral to the north side, there will be found buttresses of very early character, heavy, low, and of few stages: (1) at St. Edmund’s chapel, to the north-west of the nave; (2) to the north porch; (3) on the north side of the nave. We may conclude then, that the works included the addition to the nave of a south-east doorway, St. Edmund’s chapel, and a north porch, and possibly the remodelling of the clerestory of the whole nave. But what is more important, the choir, instead of being three bays long plus an apse, was now made eight bays long. The Norman apse was pulled down, the three bays of the Norman choir seem to have been allowed to remain. This work, especially the eastward extension ofthe choir, represented a great amount of building. The new eastern bays of the choir were finished, at any rate as far as the springers of the vault; for it has been found that the present vault of the choir incorporates the lower part of the ribs of Marshall’s vault; this, of course, would be of simpler character, and was designed to be four or five feet lower than the present one. Similar great eastward extensions were going on all over England in the thirteenth century; especially the building of Lady chapels: there seems to have been quite an outburst of Mariolatry at this time.

Proceeding to the chapter-house, it will be found that the lower part was built in the later years of the Lancet period. To the same date belong the misereres of the choir. This bishop gave the cathedral body its present constitution: dean, precentor, chancellor, treasurer, and canons; it is natural that he should have constructed for them their chapter-house, with its fine arcade; and their stalls. The misereres, with their stiff trefoiled foliage, are the earliest set in the kingdom, and of exceptional interest. Bishop Bruere had travelled in the East, and designs in tapestry brought back by him may have been copied:e.g., there is the earliest representation of an elephant; a later one occurs at Boston; there are mermen and mermaids, and an illustration of the Romaunt of theChevalier au Cygne; also Nebuchadnezzar saddled—unless this is the favourite subject of the weakness of philosophers before the charms of women, as exemplified in the temptation and fall of Aristotle.

The windows north and south of the retro-choir probably belong to this period. The roll-moulding appears on the principal curves only of the tracery; ever after it spreads overthe whole of the tracery. The lower lights of these windows are lancets; the circles in the head are cusped. The chapels of St. Mary Magdalene and St. Gabriel, on either side of the Lady chapel, seem also to have been remodelled at this time; for the side windows of these two chapels have geometrical tracery earlier than that of the Lady chapel.

And now we come to the rebuilding of the whole cathedral. In spite of the great changes that took place in Gothic architecture during the next seventy years, the original design—that of Quivil—was adhered to almost to the very last. With the exception of a few Curvilinear windows in the western bays of the nave, all the main features of the building are as they were designed in the closing years of the thirteenth century. It is, of course, this exceptional unity and harmony of design that makes Exeter what it is—one of the most satisfactory mediæval interiors in this country. In cathedrals such as Rochester and Ely a Norman nave jars on a Gothic choir; or, as at Lincoln and York, two styles of Gothic mingle and conflict. But at Exeter, looking forward from west to east, hardly anything obtrudes on the original design. In no other cathedral, except Salisbury, do we find similar unity of design; but in the design of Salisbury simplicity becomes bareness and poverty. It cannot be compared for one moment with the richness of the lovely decorated work of Exeter. Yet greater unity and harmony is gained by the way in which the battlements and pinnacles, flying-buttresses, and cresting weld together the exterior; and the high vaults the interior, as at Norwich. The adherence, too, for so long a time to Bishop Quivil’s design is interesting, because it shows that in the early years of the fourteenth century there was at Exeter, as at Beverley, Westminster, Ely, and St. Albans, a strong current in the direction of conservation of good design. Piers and vaulting and bosses and corbels andtriforium and windows of the nave, built long after he was dead and gone, are all but reproductions of Quivil’s early work. Most remarkable of all, perhaps, is the adherence to Quivil’s window tracery—the rose, the lily, and the wheel. Even the great west window, one of the last works, is but Quivil’s straight-spoked wheel translated into flowing lines.

CHOIR AND TRANSEPT.

Quivil commenced his work in the two Norman towers, in which he inserted tall arches, thus making them an integral part of the church. He also built the arches of the crossing, and provided abutment to the west by building one new bay on either side of the nave. All that one sees here—the first bay of the nave, and the alterations in the transepts, the window tracery, the piers and arches, the pierced balconies hung up on the walls of the towers, the substitution of Purbeck marble for stone shafts—is Quivil’s work. As to the easternmost bay of the nave on either side, it differs from the rest of the nave in having a wider arch; while its clerestory windows have the same straight-spoked wheel as Quivil’s windows in the transept; the mouldings of the capitals of the first two piers correspond with those of the transeptal arches; the bases are lower than those elsewhere in the nave; the bosses of the aisles are flatter; even the flying-buttresses differ.

Now that he had remodelled the centre of the church,Quivil set to work to recast the eastern parts of the church, commencing at the far east end, so as to interfere with the services as little as possible. He first transformed the Lady chapel; to him are due the shafts, sedilia, double piscina, and the vaulting, the rib-mouldings of which are of earlier character than those of the choir; and the windows, which closely resemble those of Merton College, Oxford, which we know was commenced in 1277. In the centre of the Lady chapel Bishop Quivil is buried; he died in 1291. The chapels on either side may have been remodelled or partly remodelled by Bronescombe; but the east windows are later in style, and are Quivil’s.

The piers hereabout are very interesting. Those of the Lady chapel looking into the side chapels are composed of four columns. The north-east and south-east piers of the choir have clusters of eight shafts instead of four; while in the pier between them the cluster of eight is developed into a cluster of sixteen columns. Finally, notice that these piers are set diamond-wise, with four flat faces, and the angles to the north, west, south, and east.

Bishop Quivil had only touched the fringe of the choir, but he must have collected much material for its transformation; for his successor completed it, even the vaulting, in fifteen years—the last fifteen years of Edward I. It seems to have been done in two sections; first, the four eastern bays of Bishop Marshall’s work, then the older bays to the west. It is clear that the builders took away both piers and arches from underneath Bishop Marshall’s clerestory wall, and put in new ones, without bringing the wall down—a kind of engineering feat which the mediæval builders undertook with a light heart. The new piers all consist of “vast horizontal slices of Purbeck marble, from nine to fifteen inches thick”; the arches of native sandstone. These immense marble piersgive the interior of Exeter a magnificence rare in England, only to be paralleled by the marble churches of Italy. The colour-contrast, too, between the blue-grey marble of the piers, the yellow sandstone of the arches, and the white Caen stone above, is delightful. The mouldings of Bitton’s work are clearly distinguishable from those of Quivil, and were retained, with little variation, to the west end of the cathedral. Bitton got himself into some curious difficulties by retaining instead of pulling down the twelfth and thirteenth-century clerestory walls. The first of the two, the western, was the thicker wall. Hence the piers to support it had to be thicker: they exceed the eastern piers in diameter by nine inches. But by bringing both eastern and western piers to the same line facing the central aisle of the choir the difference of nine inches appears only in the side-aisles, where it is less noticeable. Again, the length of the western bays was 2½ feet greater than that of the four eastern ones. When, therefore, Bitton set out the seven eastern pier-arches there remained an awkward gap of 2½ feet between the last arch and the great pier of the crossing. This he bridged over by the tiny arch which appears at the extreme west of each arcade of the choir, the incongruity of which was largely masked later by the great choir-screen. He seems to have worked to the middle of the choir—first from the east, then from the crossing. When, however, the two sets of arches met, they did not fit, and the clumsy junction had to be botched over by the aid of a stilt.

FROM NORTH-EAST.

But though the remodelling was complete, even to the vaulted roof above, the choir was all naked and bare; and the next bishop set himself, not to carry the work into the nave, but to complete the equipment of the choir. In one respect Bitton’s choir was weak in design: it had a triforium in the choir bays (the four to the west) but not in the bays ofthe sanctuary. Bitton’s eastern clerestory windows were splayed down till they rested on the summits of the new pier-arches; to the same line were continued downward the shafts in the jambs of his windows. This diversity of treatment of the two halves of the choir must have had a most discordant effect; and Stapledon corrected it very cleverly by adding a triforium to the east in such a way that though the eastern arcading is not so deep as the western, yet in perspective the difference is hardly noticed. Probably the next thing was to glaze the remainder of the sixty choir windows, only eighteen of which were filled with stained glass at Stapledon’s accession. It seems likely that nearly all the stained glass for the choir and the transepts came from abroad—from Rouen. For the nave, later on, the place of the laity, English glass, cheaper and not so good, was thought sufficient. The glass was inserted by Walter le Verrouer (he has descendants still living in Exeter), at the moderate price of 6s.for a fortnight’s work, of himself and “two boys,” for one pair of clerestory windows. Hitherto the clergy had sat in the transept and the western bays of the nave; now, as in many other cathedrals,the stalls were moved into the western bays of the choir. (The present canopies of these stalls are modern.) Next came the Bishop’s throne (A.D.1316), intended for his Lordship with a chaplain on either side; “a magnificent sheaf of carved oak, put together without a single nail, and rising to a height of 57 feet. The lightness of its ascending stages almost rivals the famous ‘sheaf of fountains’ of the Nuremberg tabernacle. The cost of this vast and exquisitely carved canopy (about twelve guineas) is surprisingly small, even for those days. The carved work consists chiefly of foliage, with finials of great beauty, surmounting tabernacled niches, with a sadly untenanted look, however, for lack of their statuettes. The pinnacle corners are enriched with heads of oxen, sheep, dogs, pigs, and monkeys.” Next came what is perhaps the most exquisite work in stone in England, as the throne is unparalleled in woodwork—the sedilia; the seats of the priest to the east, and to the west of him, those of the Gospeller and Epistoler. These sedilia have been preferred even to the shrine of Beverley and the Lady chapel of Ely. “The canopy of the seat nearest the altar,” says Mr. Garland, “deserves particular attention. It is adorned with a wreath of vine leaves on each side, which meet at the point and there form a finial; and never did Greek sculptor, of the best age, trace a more exact portrait of the leaf of the vine, nor design a more graceful wreath, nor execute his design with a more masterly finish.” It is regrettable that the carving of the sedilia is attributed to a Frenchman. Then came the great work of all—the high altar, with its reredos, perhaps the most magnificent in Europe; the cost of it would amount now to £7,500. Of this not a fragment remains. Finally, the choir was closed in with a great screen to the west, from which was read the Epistle and Gospel, as in the two ambos of the early Christian basilicas. And on it was placed an organ; the ancient and best position for a cathedral organ. The accounts show that 500 lbs. of iron bars were used to hold the screen together. This concluded Bishop Stapledon’s work, except that hebuilt a cloistered walk as far as the doorway of the chapter-house. “The cathedral of Exeter,” as Stapledon’s successor wrote to the Pope, “now finished up to the nave, is marvellous in beauty, and when completed, will surpass every Gothic church in England or in France.” Stapledon died in 1327. The completed choir was consecrated by Bishop Grandisson in 1328.

Grandisson was “the most magnificent prelate who ever filled the see of Exeter.” He had been nuncio to the Pope at the courts of all the noblest princes of Christendom. He was even strong enough to bar the way to Archbishop Meopham, of Canterbury, when he attempted to enforce a Visitation of the cathedral. Great as were his riches and magnificence, he was a strict economist. He lived forty years Bishop of Exeter; finished his cathedral, did many great works elsewhere, and yet died wealthy. Quivil, we have seen, had built one bay of the nave. It remained for Grandisson to complete the remaining seven bays. The piers of the nave were erected by 1334; the whole work was complete in 1350. Stapledon had commenced the Cloister; Grandisson built the north walk, running, in curious fashion, under a second and outer range of flying-buttresses, as does the cloister of Westminster. The west front (except the west screen) was now built, but not the fan-vaulting of the north porch, which is later. And the curious Chapel of St. Radegunde in the thickness of the west wall he remodelled, to form his mortuary chapel, expecting there ever to lie, looking towards the nave where his great work had been done. But his tomb was destroyed by Elizabeth’s Visitors, and his ashes were scattered to the winds.

As we stand near his empty grave, we see before us the whole of the great mediæval design, that was due in inception to Quivil, and was realised and consummated by Bitton, Stapledon, and Grandisson, in the seventy years between 1280 and 1350. What strikes one, first, is that with revenuesso immense, the bishops should have been satisfied with a cathedral so small—its area is less than half that of York. On the other hand, at York, owing to the vast dimensions of the new cathedral, commenced simultaneously with the new work at Exeter, the builders were unable to roof it in stone.

NAVE.

Secondly, one wonders that they allowed their hands to be fettered, their design to be cramped, by the preservation not only of the aisle walls, but of the clerestories of Warelwast and Marshall’s cathedral. But it is just in the subjugation of these limitations, in converting them into the special glory and distinction of the Exeter design, that the genius of Quivil’s architect shines forth most vividly. He was limited by the area of the old cathedral, east to west, north to south: not even the tiny transepts might be enlarged. But what was more serious, he was limited as to height. He was unable to raise the vaulting or the pier-arches more than five feet. His internal elevation, then, for a Gothic church of 1280, had to be exceptionally low. He determined, therefore—it was an intuition of genius—to see what could be done in architecture with lowness and breadth. Everything should be broad and low, outside as well as inside. Look at the east end of the choir—its two arches broad and low; above it, the great window—broad and low. Nowhere but at Exeter do you find these squat windows with theirtruncated jambs; here they are everywhere—in the aisles, in the clerestory, in choir, chapels, transepts, and nave; even in the great window of the western front: broad and low windows everywhere.

Still more original is the external realisation of the design; central tower and spire, western towers and spires, alike are absent. Long and low, massive and stable, stretches out uninterruptedly the long horizontal line of nave and choir. Breadth gives in itself the satisfactory feeling of massiveness, steadfastness and solidity; and this is just what is wanting in the all-too aerial work of Salisbury and Beauvais; vaulted roofs at a dizzy height resting on unsubstantial supports and sheets of glass. But the Exeter architect has emphasised this satisfactory feeling of stability still further. The window tracery is heavy and strong; the vault is barred all over with massive ribs; in the piers there are no pretty, fragile, detached shafts; the massive clustered columns look as if they were designed, as they were, to carry the weight of a Norman wall.

But an interior may easily be made too massive; if it is not to be a Salisbury cathedral, it need not be a Newgate Gaol. How was the prison-like appearance of an interior but 68 feet high, with a stone vault of exceptionally heavy appearance weighing it down, to be avoided? How was oppressive heaviness to be counteracted? Triumphantly, by transparency. By stretching out the windows from buttress to buttress, aisle and clerestory became practically one continuous sheet of glass; the church was flooded with light and atmosphere; the heavy vault seemed to float in the air, borne up but by the lilies and roses and wheels of the window tracery, and rows of painted saints in tabernacles of silver or of gold. There is no heaviness even now in the interior of Exeter; though the silvery panes of the choir, the golden glass of the nave, have perished long ago.

Another distinctive feature in Exeter, as in Salisbury, is that the architect produces his effect mainly by architecturalmeans—is not driven to rely on sculpture. All the principal capitals have mouldings, not foliage. Only in the great corbels of the vaulting-shafts and in the bosses of the vault, does he permit himself foliage and sculpture. Wonderful carving it is; the finest work of the best period, when the naturalistic treatment of foliage was fresh and young. Very remarkable these corbels are, with their lifelike treatment of vine and grape, oak and acorn, hazel leaf and nut. Unfortunately the corbels, and still more the bosses, are so high up that their lovely detail is thrown away; and they are out of scale.

And the patterns of the window tracery are wonderfully diverse. It is not, as in Lichfield nave or King’s College Chapel, where every window is like its neighbour; when you have seen one, you have seen all. Here, all down each side of the church, every window differs. In dimensions, in general character, they agree; in details they differ; each window is a fresh delight; we have what even in Gothic architecture we rarely get—diversity within similarity.

Another striking feature of the design is its perfect bilateral symmetry. Gothic churches are, as a rule, most irregular, most unsymmetrical in outline; as a consequence, very picturesque. It is a mistake, however, to believe that they are intentionally unsymmetrical and picturesque. A Gothic architect no more aimed at irregularity than did the architect of the Parthenon. Only he was not a purist on the subject. If practical requirements—e.g., the needs of ritual—made it necessary to break in on the lines of a symmetrical design, he broke in on them without the slightest hesitation; the building had to conform to its destination. But where a single design was carried through from end to end, it was as symmetrical as a Classical temple. So it is at Salisbury; so it is at Exeter. Every window has its exact counterpart on the other side of nave and choir. Transept answers to transept, screen to screen, St. John the Baptist’s chapel to St. Paul’s, St. Andrew’s chapel to St. James’, St. George’schapel to St. Saviour’s, St. Mary Magdalene’s chapel to St. Gabriel’s. But the architect was not so infatuated with the idea of symmetry as to place a porch on the south side because there was one on the north, or a chapter-house on the north because there was one on the south; which is just what the academic professors of Classical architecture would have done.

WEST FRONT.

We have seen how the design gained special distinction from the very limitations imposed by the lowness of the early cathedral, the upper parts of which it was desired to preserve. It was again to the early design that Exeter owes another distinction among English interiors. In the early design the towers were just those which we still see; there was no central tower. The very fact that Quivil’s architect did not rush off at once to build a central tower, and be like everybody else, shows what backbone and insight the man had. Cathedrals without central towers were as rare in mediæval England as cathedrals with central towers are rare in the Île de France. Yet he advised his employers—or was it they who instructed him?—not to build a central tower. Centraltowers, standing as they do on four thin legs, are dangerous: many have fallen; others are always threatening to fall—e.g., Salisbury. But they are objectionable on another ground. The great piers on which they stand are an enormous block in the lengthened vista, which is the one great charm of an English cathedral, as compared with the lofty but short cathedrals of France. The fact that there is no tower over the crossing, and no tower-piers in the way, produces the most open, uninterrupted, and impressive vista of any cathedral in England. The screen being low, one sees the whole noble design in one glance from far west to far east. We have nothing like it: though it finds its counterpart in the great French cathedral of Bourges.

Another point should be noticed. Although the nave is in nearly all important respects of late Geometrical design—the exception being some Curvilinear windows with flowing tracery in the westernmost bays of the nave—yet the architects were not such purists as to carry out their minor work in anything but the style of their own day. Even in the choir, the architecture of which is Geometrical both in character and in date, all the minor work is developed Curvilinear—e.g., the great screen with its depressed ogee arches, the throne of the bishop, the sedilia.

Perpendicular Work (1360-1485).—Much minor work remained to do. In the remaining years of the fourteenth century the west front, which seems to have been heeling over, was buttressed by the erection of the western screen. The west and south walks of the cloisters were added. The great east window was substituted for an earlier Geometrical one which seems to have fallen into decay. In the fifteenth century the towers were crowned with battlements and turrets, as we see them now. The upper part of the chapter-house was rebuilt. Bishop Stafford erected canopies over monuments in the Lady chapel.

Tudor Work (1485-1519).—The Tudor work is exceptional in importance. It includes the north entrance andother late portions of the western screen, two exquisite chapels, both built by Bishop Oldham—his own chantry (St. Saviour’s) on the south side of the retro-choir, the Speke chantry (St. George’s) on the north—and in addition, Prior Sylke’s chantry in the north transept. All this work is admirable in design and execution. In Oldham’s chantry is a charming series of owls, with the scroll DAM, a rebus on his name, proceeding from the beak of each little owl. To Bishop Oldham also (1504-1519) is due the grand set of stone screens—one of the glories of the cathedral—no less than ten, which veil all the nine chapels and Prior Sylke’s chantry, and add fresh beauty to the beautiful choir.

Whatever else, then, the student and lover of Gothic architecture omits, he must not omit to visit Exeter. He will find it fresh and different from anything he has seen before. Its unique plan, without central or western towers, the absence of obstructive piers at the crossing, the consequently uninterrupted vista, the singleness and unity of the whole design, the remarkable system of proportions, based on breadth rather than height, the satisfying massiveness and solidity of the building, inside and outside, and at the same time the airiness and lightness of the interior, the magnificence of its piers of marble, the delightful colour-contrast of marble column and sandstone arch, the amazing diversity of the window tracery, the exquisite carving of the corbels and bosses, the abundant and admirable Tudor work, the wealth of chantries and monuments, the superb sedilia, screen, and throne, the misereres, the vaults, the extraordinary engineering feats from which its present form results, the originality of the west front and of the whole interior and exterior, place Exeter in the very forefront of the triumphs of the mediæval architecture of our country.

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