Transcript

of

An Exeter Sensation:"The Mystery of Edward Drewe."

Devon & Cornwall Notes and Queries vol. VII, (1912-1913), Exeter: James G. Commin. 1913, pp. 86-91.

by

Karl Cherry

Prepared by Michael Steer

The Note’s author relates the tragedy of Will Petre who was murdered by Edward Drewe in 1611. The tale is also recounted in Mr Elijah Chick’s notorious History of Exeter Castle, that received a scathing review by ‘Veritas’ in an earlier issue of this journal.  Petre’s skull exhibited a "punctured and penetrating wound of the occipital bone."Will Petre, however, was slain by a blow from a short sword, which would produce a linear fracture or cleft in the skull. Petre belonged to a well-known county family, and his murder caused a profound sensation in the district. The article, from a copy of a rare and much sought-after journal can be downloaded from the Internet Archive. Google has sponsored the digitisation of books from several libraries. These books, on which copyright has expired, are available for free educational and research use, both as individual books and as full collections to aid researchers..

Note 61. AN EXETER SENSATION: "THE MYSTERY OF EDWARD DREWE." - [Note. - The following narrative, every detail and particular of which was long ago attested upon oath, describes an occurrence that happened exactly three centuries ago. In its present form it is based upon certain unpublished documents in the Muniment Room of the Exeter Guildhall, comprising forty folios of manuscript. These papers are bound up in an old time-stained volume, and bear the following title : "Deposicions and Examynacions of witnesses taken the 26 th daie of Januaraie, being Sondaie, before William Martyn, Esquyer, Recorder of the Cittye of Exon, and William Tyckell, gentleman, Coroner of the Countye of the same Cittye, anno Regis Jacobi 9 0 [1611]." For the privilege of consulting and quoting from the depositions I am indebted to the courtesy of the Town Clerk of Exeter, Mr. H. Lloyd Parry, whose kindness I now gratefully acknowledge. I also have to thank the City Librarian, Mr. H. Tapley-Soper for information relative to the family of Drewe. For the sake of clearness the present account is cast in "story-telling" form, but its interest is solely that of historic fact. Even the local colour, the account of the old taverns that were then the haunt of our young aristocrats of Exeter, the manner of their speech, and the fashion of their dress are all derived from these half-forgotten records of this ancient and mystifying tragedy, enacted outside St. Anne's Chapel in Sidwell St., Exeter, on that winter's night, three centuries ago].

On the night of Saturday, January 25th, 1611, one of the largest and most renowned hostelries in Exeter was doing a roaring trade, if such a term be not inappropriate to the siren-lipped "Mermaid." At that time Market Street did not exist; but the lower end of what is now known as Market Street was a curved lane, connecting Guinea Street with Preston Street. Here, then, stood the Mermaid, and the spot is still called "Mermaid Yard." The social atmosphere of the locality has altered considerably. Even at that time the Mermaid had for more than a century been "a resort for fashionables," and a romantic story could be told of the Carews and the Courteneys drawing swords beneath its roof. Over the way was the Dolphin, still standing where it did, and a house with which this narrative is also intimately concerned. Both these inns were frequented by young bloods during the Exeter "season," at which time they were residing in their town houses in Preston Street, Paul Street, or on Stepcote Hill. Others, too, would ride in from their country seats in the immediate neighbourhood, and this was the case with three gallants, who, on the night in question, were making merry in an upper room of the Mermaid. Edward Drewe, and his younger brother John, had ridden in from their mansion of Killerton, Broad Clyst, and Will Petre from Whipton House, a couple of miles outside the city. All three were scions of well-known county families; Will Petre was related to the Petres of Brian Tor, the Drewes being the sons of Sir Edward Drewe, Recorder of London, who had just begun the building of Grange, at Broadhembury, where the family was seated until recent years. All three, though far from sober, were drinking heavily, and had just called for another "quart of wyne." And, over all three, hovered the unseen menace of impending tragedy - over one the shadow of a bloody death, over the others a hangman's noose swinging from Heavitree Gallows. It behoves us, therefore, to pay attention to details.

Edward Drewe carried a short sword, and was clad from head to foot in sombre black, a sinister omen upon which wiseacres waxed eloquent afterwards. John Drewe wore a rapier. That, too, is important; you cannot break in a man's skull with a rapier; you can with a short sword. John wore a white hat, and had a white cloak thrown over his shoulders - events were to prove that he was not unworthy of wearing a white feather also. Will Peter was unarmed.

Having paid their score they resolved to cross the road and beat up the Dolphin. Staggering upstairs, they burst noisily into a room where they were welcomed by Sir Edward Seymour, Sheriff of Devon, and the first Devonian to be created a member of the new baronetage. He was drinking wine and playing cards with some gentlemen of quality. He called for fresh flagons of canary. Also, his luck being out, "he borrowed some gold" of Will Petre, and more "wyne and beere" was called for.

Here the three young men tarried for an hour; then, having played a very unseemly practical joke on the tapster, they bade Sir Edward farewell. They next stormed that ancient and semi-ecclesiastical tavern, the Bear, standing then at the corner of Bear Lane in South Street. Here, after the exercises of the evening, the party refreshed themselves. They called for "a quart of canary" and had some speech with Mistress Alice Drake. "Master Edward," that lady declared, "was but a little wylde." She admitted, however, that he "began to talk very wantonly to me, but in no unkindness - he is an idle gentleman."

At the Bear they mounted their horses, and began what can only be called a progress towards the East Gate. The journey was interrupted by several halts for wine and beer, and at the Gate itself came the first signs of there being bad blood amongst them.

It will be remembered that Will Petre had lent Sir Edward Seymour some gold; some weeks previously he had obliged Edward Drewe with the use of his name. The latter had borrowed five pounds from a certain "old Mr - Halse" of Exeter; Will Petre had stood as surety; and Will Petre had had to pay. The memory of the transaction seems to have rankled, high words were exchanged, and Will Petre galloped away through the darkness of Sidwell Street. At daybreak his dead body was discovered outside St. Anne's Chapel. There was a pool of blood on the ground, and a gastly cleft in the skull.

The next that was heard was that a hue and cry had been raised, and that early in the morning Edward and John Drewe had been arrested in their beds at Killerton. Then came the inquest, at which both young men appeared in custody, and John Drewe gave evidence.

Admitting the quarrel at the East Gate, he stated that Will Petre suddenly galloped furiously away. Edward, who was better mounted than himself, went after him, John following some distance behind. Presently Edward rode back and said "he had lost Will Petre;" whereupon the two went forward and at St. Anne's Chapel halted, and shouted Petre's name. Receiving no answer, "they groped their way to a house where there was a light," but the woman whom they questioned could give no information. They then rode on to Whipton House, where they found Will Petre's riderless horse waiting at the gate. They knocked at the gate, and Petre's servant, William Johns "came furth to take his maister's horse, and asked where his maister was, and Edward told the said servant that he would be in by and by; then they rode towards Killarton."

Obviously, several awkward questions suggest themselves. Why did Edward gallop after Petre? How did he know that he had lost him ? He could not have been far behind Petre, for St. Anne's Chapel was not a quarter of a mile from the East Gate - why did he not hear the riderless horse galloping up Black Boy Road ? Finally, why did they not tell the servant the truth?

Certain facts which had been discreetly omitted by John Drewe were supplied by residents in Sidwell Street. Their names have a curiously familiar sound, for they may be seen in Sidwell Street at the present day. Thus Richard Karslake, John Styles, and John Garland deposed that Edward Drewe, when galloping after Will Petre, had drawn his sword, and they had heard him shout these words: "He rideth fast, but I will ride faster, and will give him a nick before he gets home;" whereupon the Coroner went to John Drewe, and implored him to tell the truth, assuring him that "He should find such favor as Law and Justice should yealde him." Then came the great sensation of the day - John Drewe declared that he had a fresh statement to make.

He now said that when his brother dashed after Will Petre Edward did draw his sword, "and neare unto St. Anne's Chappell in Whipton Way this examinant saw the said Edward Drewe's sword drawn in his hand, and heard him strike the said Wm. Petre on the Cawlsey [causeway] .... Edward took Petre's horse by the bridle and led him to Whipton House, and they knocked at the gate, and bade the servant come furth." Then followed the conversation as previously related, and Edward's strange remark that Petre "would be in by and by." Having reached Killerton, the two brothers, who slept together, went to bed. Then followed a little incident which bears the hall-mark of truth. "And after they were in bedd .... this examinant asked the said Edward what he would do if Petre was dead. But he turned from the examinant and would make no answer to him." That is a picture of a man stricken dumb with hideous anxiety, and it is psychologically true to human nature.

At that point the Court adjourned until the following day; but they had not yet finished with that versatile young man, John Drewe - from Edward, that sombrely clad, silent figure standing by his brother's side, we hear very little throughout the whole proceedings. The following note is appended to the depositions taken on the Sunday: -

"The same day, at night, the said John Drewe sent to speak to Wm. Martyn and John Prouze, intending to deny his last confession; but the said justices not thinking it to be in fitt time to confer with a prisoner in the night, went unto him the next morning, at which time he told them that their perswasions and his own hope of enlargement had occasioned him wrongfully to accuse his own brother, and therefore he prayed them to take another examination of him.

"Wherewith the justices answered him, that they [had been] indeed earnest in their perswasions that he should confess the truth without wronging or favouring of [any] one, and that he should find such favor as Law and Justice should yealde him, and that they came to, him [i.e., on the previous occasion] to the end that he should have quieted his conscience by telling of the truth, and not that he should bring a greater burden on himself by his false accusings of his brother: yet we would not refuse him that favor, newly to examine him."

Thereupon, John Drewe made a third statement. It was virtually a repetition of his original story, and he was quite unable to explain away the crop of difficulties that story presented.

The verdict of the Coroner's jury could hardly have surprised the crowd of citizens gathered to hear it. They found that Will Petre, of Whipton House in the County of Devon, gent., was, on the night of the twenty-fifth of January instant, Wilfully Murdered by Edward Drewe, of Killerton, Broad Clyst, and they further found that John Drewe, of Killerton, Broad Clyst, was Accessory thereunto after the fact.

The present writer has ventured - with acknowledgments to the shade of Charles Dickens - to give this contribution the sub-heading, "The Mystery of Edward Drewe," and the reader may have wondered what element of mystery is involved in the tragedy unfolded in these ancient documents. There is, unhappily, no mystery there; in the face of the evidence the jury could deliver no other verdict, and one might conclude that the hangman's rope was, figuratively, already round the necks of Edward and John Drewe. That, however, is exactly what did not happen. Not only did they escape the hangman; they were never tried before the Judges of Assize, never even appeared before the magistrates of the City. And that is the mystery that surrounds the fate of Edward Drewe, - he died unmarried, on the 8th June, 1636, and was buried at Broadhembury, where also lies his father, on whose tomb both these sons are represented in effigy.

Equally mysterious is the fate of John Drewe, who from that date vanishes altogether from the recorded history of the family. The only conclusion we can draw is that family influence was brought to bear and that by this means the scandal was hushed up. Edward, the heir, may have been allowed to live in seclusion at home; but it seems very probable that John, the informer, the poltroon, and perjurer, was banished by his father into exile. There would be a certain lack of cordiality between the brothers that would make some such course highly desirable, and it is a significant fact that at the Herald's Visitation in 1620, no mention of John Drewe, dead or alive, was made to that officer of the Court.

The noble mansion of Grange still stands at Broadhembury, but is no longer in the possession of the descendants of Sir Edward Drewe, the Jacobean Recorder of London and of Exeter.                     Karl Cherry.