Advised to remove himself far from the scene of those intrigues which had caught him in their net, Edward Courtenay departed for the Continent with the declared intention of travelling to distant lands, even to Constantinople. That he had no consciousness of having committed a great offence is evident from his correspondence; for while frequently expressing the hope that he may soon be home again, he asks a friend to give him a buck and some does, so that his park may be stocked with deer, and gleefully relates that the Emperor and King Philip had received him kindly. But his health is not good. He suffers, so he writes, from a disease in his hip from cold; there is, also, much plague about; and then no more is heard until the news arrives from Peter Vannes, the English ambassador to the Venetian Republic, who was staying at Padua, announcing that Edward, Earl of Devonshire, had died in that city, on September 18th, 1556. _Ubi lapsus, quid feci?_ Noble and honoured in degree, gifted with many admirable and amiable qualities, the fairest prospects open before them, yet, one after the other, successive Earls of Devon, like their even more exalted ancestors, perished in sorrow and adversity, until, as was generally believed, their ancient title became extinct. Yet, far away in the West Country, beneath the oaks of Powderham, while the elder branches dropped or were snapped off, the descendants of Sir Philip Courtenay, youngest son of Hugh, second Earl of Devon, lived and thrived, gaining among their own people a love and devotion which has endured the strain of centuries and the many vicissitudes of fortune. Through the course of years the Courtenays of Powderham followed the example of their greater kinsmen, taking part in events of national importance, bearing themselves with distinction against the foreign foe; with hereditary courage and self-denial opposing the usurper, Richard of Gloucester, and, in defeat as well as in victory, supporting the cause of Henry VII. But in all things, great or small, they essentially were Devonshire leaders of Devonshire men—living among their own people, beloved and respected by them. Peter Courtenay, Bishop of Exeter in 1437, expended his energy and substance in maintaining and improving the Cathedral, and to this day the great bell which he hung in the north tower is called by his name, Great Peter. Many a Devonshire Courtenay sat as Knight of the Shire for his native County; others of the family filled the office of Sheriff; and thus for 340 years this branch of the house did its duty punctually and well, earning fresh honours and new titles in the place of those which lay in abeyance. On the death of Edward, eighth Earl, in 1556, at Padua, the Courtenays of Powderham were represented by Sir William Courtenay, who died at the siege of St. Quintin, a few months after the decease of his noble kinsman, his son and successor, also called William, being but four years old at the time.