Bells Cathedrals: The Cathedral Church of Exeter | Page 7

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 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 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.
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