'Must thou be scaling heaven alone, For want of other action? Wouldst thou hadst took that leisure time To visit some responsal clime!'
But Sprigg's deep affection and respect cannot be disguised even by his words.
At Ottery, Sir Thomas Fairfax received and entertained two envoys from besieged Exeter, who came with a view to discussing the possible terms of a general peace; but their mission was, of course, unsuccessful. A pleasant event was the presentation to the General of a fair jewel, set with rich diamonds of great value, 'from both Houses of Parliament, as a testimonial to his great services at Naseby.' The jewel was tied with 'a blue ribbon and put about his neck.' Fairfax was staying in the old Chanter's House, now the property of Lord Coleridge, and the ceremony took place in a long panelled room, with deep-set window, then called the Great Parlour. Here also Fairfax held a deeply important conference with the 'Lord Generall Cromwell,' when he came to decide the plan of campaign in the West.
Ottery St Mary is able to pride itself on being the birthplace of the poet Coleridge, whose family had long been connected with the county. The poet's father was Vicar, and Master of the Grammar School. Great as was his genius, Coleridge was not in every respect worthy of his birthplace, for in one of his letters he actually announces that he prefers Somerset to Devon!--evidence which clearly proves the correctness of the popular belief that poets have no judgment. But his real affection for the Otter is shown in his sonnet to the river on whose banks he lived in early years. Another poem, the 'Songs of the Pixies,' was inspired by the Pixies' Parlour, a tiny cave with roots of old trees for a ceiling, that stands halfway up a low cliff overhanging the river, just beyond the town. In this poem are the lines:
'When fades the morn to shadowy-pale, And scuds the cloud before the gale, Ere the Morn, all gem-bedight, Hath streak'd the East with rosy light, We sip the furze-flower's fragrant dews, Clad in robes of rainbow hues.... Then with quaint music hymn the parting gleam By lonely Otter's sleep-persuading stream; Or where his wave with loud, unquiet song Dashed o'er the rocky channel froths along; Or where, his silver waters smoothed to rest, The tall tree's shadow sleeps upon his breast.'