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The name 'Somerset' usually conjures up visions of green hills, picturesque harbours and sleepy villages with thatched cottages and quaint pubs – but this is only part of the story. - What about the slaughter on Sedgemoor in July 1685, or its terrible aftermath, the infamous Bloody Assizes? - What dark deeds took place on the coast during the heyday of the smugglers? - Who was the curate who ended up in a cauldron, or the abbot who was hanged, drawn and quartered? - Why were there riots at Radstock in 1830? The answers to these and many other morbid questions can be found in this book, as we take a look into the darker corners of Somerset's history, and meet the unusual people who shaped the history of this popular county in unexpected (and sometimes horrifying) ways.
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First published 2025
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© Mike Dean, 2025
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Mike Dean is a retired primary school teacher and a registered Blue Badge Tour Guide for the West of England. A graduate of Bristol University, his hobbies include reading, walking, music and travel. A West Countryman by birth, he has a lifelong passion for the history and traditions of the area, which he enjoys sharing with others. He has previously written The Little Book of Bath and The Little History of Somerset, both published by The History Press. He lives in Keynsham, between Bristol and Bath.
No writer works in a vacuum, and I am more than happy to acknowledge and to offer my grateful thanks to all those who have made it possible for this little volume to see the light of day. First, to Nicola Guy for offering me the opportunity to write it, along with project editor Ele Palmer and other colleagues at The History Press for their skill in bringing it to life. Also, to the staff of the public libraries at Keynsham, Bath, Wells and Glastonbury for their friendliness and help in locating books and other sources of information. Thanks, too, to friends and fellow tour guides for their helpful suggestions and for sharing their considerable knowledge. Finally, but most of all, to my dear, late wife, Gwyneth, for helping with the research, driving me around and for her invaluable encouragement and support.
Any errors are entirely my own.
For most people, the word ‘Somerset’ will conjure up a picture of soft green hills, picturesque villages, rolling moorlands and peaceful farmland – and indeed, Somerset has all these, and much more, to offer. But, like all counties, it also has its darker side, which those who see only its welcoming face probably don’t even think about. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s great detective Sherlock Holmes remarks, in The Adventure of the Copper Beeches, that ‘the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside’. Holmes may have been exaggerating, but the fact remains that even the most pleasing of areas can hold unsavoury secrets that most guidebooks usually prefer to overlook. Why did a local curate end up in a cauldron, and what was the very odd remedy for sciatica? Which pirate inspired Charles Darwin, and why was Mary Norwood burned at the stake at Ilchester in 1765? You’ll find the answers to these questions, and many others, in the following pages.
This book is an attempt to balance the record by looking into some of the darker corners of Somerset’s past, and examining aspects of its history that are perhaps less well known, but nonetheless intriguing. Bloody battles, dreadful crimes, horrific punishments, witchcraft, cruel hardships, intriguing mysteries and curious remedies all form part of Somerset’s colourful past, and give us an insight into the thoughts and actions of people down the ages. They also help us to understand the world we now live in, and what contributed to shaping Somerset into the county we know today. Obviously, in a book of this size I could not hope to cover all the strange and sometimes bizarre events that make up Somerset’s colourful past. Therefore, I have necessarily been selective and chosen those I find most interesting, and which I hope will interest the reader, too. So, let’s take a journey through the past, lifting a few lids as we go, and discover some of the strange and fascinating people, events and beliefs that were once commonplace among our ancestors, and maybe consider what relevance they might have for us today. It’s a journey well worth taking.
1. Let Battle Commence
2. Witches, Warlocks and the Dark Arts
3. Murder Most Foul
4. Deadly Diseases and Risky Remedies
5. Pirates, Smugglers and Highwaymen
6. Penalties and Punishments
7. Unexplained Mysteries
8. Uprising, Rebellion and Civil Disorder
9. Macabre Occurrences and Natural Disasters
10. Poverty and Hardship
11. In the Name of the Law
12. Persecution and Religious Conflict
Select Bibliography
Throughout its history, Somerset has been no stranger to armed conflict, and has seen its fair share of battles, skirmishes, uprisings and other conflicts which have disturbed its peaceful landscape.
After the Roman invasion of AD 43, the legions marched westward. Having discovered the hot springs at what is now Bath, the 2nd Augusta Legion continued to the west, under the command of the future emperor Vespasian, occupying parts of Somerset as they went. One of the main attractions of the area was the presence of lead and silver in the Charterhouse area. They found and attacked the major defensive hill forts of Ham Hill and South Cadbury Castle, occupied by the native tribes of the Durotriges and Dobunni, where they met some determined resistance before bringing the area under control. Excavations have discovered examples of Roman military equipment at both sites, including armour, spearheads and ballista bolts (a ballista was a kind of giant crossbow; a fearsome weapon to face). The Roman attack on Cadbury in about AD 70 resulted in a massacre of the defenders. The remains of at least thirty people have been discovered, showing clear evidence of death by violence, and there are similar signs of another massacre at the hill fort near Norton Fitzwarren.
South Cadbury hillfort.
Other early battles that are believed to have been fought in Somerset (historians are not completely sure) include:
Mount Badon (Mons Badonicus), around AD 500; thought to have been fought in the Bath area, possibly Solsbury Hill, between Britons and Anglo-Saxons. The sixth-century monk Gildas says that the leader of the resistance was a Romano-British chieftain named Ambrosius Aurelianus.
Longborth (probably Langport), about AD 522. It’s recorded that a battle was fought here between Arthur and the warrior Geraint, in which Geraint was killed, and Arthur himself wounded. A sixth-century poem describes:
… the noisy tumult,
And biers with the dead drenched in gore,
And men blood-stained from the onset of the foe.
This was not to be the last battle Langport would witness (see below under ‘Later battles’).
Camlann, around AD 530 (although may be legendary). Where ‘King’ Arthur is supposed to have died, according to Geoffrey of Monmouth in his History of the Kings of Britain.
Peonnum, around AD 660; possibly fought near Penselwood. A victory for the Saxons, led by Cenwalh, over the Britons. This brought Somerset as far west as the River Parrett under Saxon control.
Cynuit,AD 878, either Combwich, near Bridgwater, or, more likely, Countisbury on the Somerset border with Devon. The West Saxons, led by Odda, defeated the Danish forces, led by Ubba. The Saxons captured the Danes’ famous raven banner. Alfred (the Great) of Wessex was at this time hiding out in the Somerset marshes, organising a resistance.
Ethandun,AD 878; a victory for Alfred, who defeated the Danes led by Guthrum. The annals tell how Alfred called the fyrds (local militia) to gather at Egbert’s Stone, at the village of Brewham, near Wincanton. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records that:
All those of Somerset came to meet him, and those of Wiltshire and Hampshire, the part this side of the sea … one night after he proceeded to Heddington, and there fought with all the army, and put them to flight, riding after them to the fortress, and besieged it for fourteen nights.
Bishop Asser, writing in his The Life of King Alfred in 893, tells how ‘through God’s will’: ‘Alfred destroyed the Vikings with great slaughter, and pursued those who fled as far as the stronghold, hacking them down.’
After these two battles the Treaty of Wedmore, between Alfred and Guthrum, was concluded, at which Guthrum and his men agreed to accept the Christian faith. Alfred himself baptised Guthrum as his godson, and made him the Christian King of East Anglia, which, of course, meant that he now had a valuable ally in that part of the country.
In 918 there was a Danish raid at Watchet, which was intended to secure a stretch of territory along the banks of the Severn. The Danes managed to land on two occasions: once to the east of Watchet, and on another occasion at Porlock. The local Saxons, known as the Hwicca, put up a stiff resistance, and fierce fighting took place. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle talks of ‘a great slaughter’ and tells us that the Danes,‘… were beaten at every turn, so that few of them got away except those who swam out to the ships. They set down on the island of Flatholme, where many of them died of hunger’.
Near Williton are some fields with burial mounds, known as Battlegore, which local tradition held was the site of one of the battles, but this idea has now been dismissed. The mounds are actually Bronze Age barrows, or burial chambers, but the name shows how these events lingered on in folk memory.
Saxon warrior.
Later battles: Once we get past the Norman Conquest of 1066 we are on firmer ground. The first major conflict in Somerset after that date was the Siege of Ilchester in 1088. This occurred during the reign of William II (Rufus), when the town was attacked and besieged by the forces of Robert de Mowbray, Earl of Northumbria (D.O.B. unknown –1125). He (along with his uncle, Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances) decided to support the king’s brother, Robert Curthose, in his bid to gain the throne. Bishop Geoffrey owned the mighty Bristol Castle, from which Mowbray led an uprising that burned Bath, ravaged part of Wiltshire and finally laid siege to Ilchester. The town proved too hard a nut to crack, and Mowbray was forced to withdraw his forces. After this, the uprising collapsed, but the Earl managed to escape punishment. However, he does not appear to have learned his lesson, for in 1095 he led another unsuccessful rebellion against the Crown. This time he was captured and imprisoned for life. After many years he was, according to one chronicler, allowed to become a monk at St Albans, where he died.
Over the next few centuries Somerset managed largely to escape the conflicts that took place elsewhere in the country. The Wars of the Roses (1455–85) left Somerset virtually unscathed, with none of the set-piece battles being fought within the boundaries of the county. However, it did not entirely avoid the effects of this dynastic quarrel between the houses of York and Lancaster. Sir James Luttrell of Dunster fought for the Lancastrians at the Second Battle of St Albans in February 1461. They were successful, but Sir James was badly wounded in the battle and died five days later. Shortly afterwards he was attainted for treason, and his castle at Dunster and all his lands were confiscated by the Crown. It was claimed that he had been one of those who had killed Richard, Duke of York (Edward IV’s father), at the Battle of Wakefield the previous year, when the Duke had been beheaded and his head, wearing a paper crown, set up over the gates of York.
Another victim was Lady Margaret Pole (née Plantagenet) of Farleigh Hungerford, near Bath. She was the only surviving daughter of George, Duke of Clarence, drowned (according to tradition) in a butt of Malmsey wine in the Tower of London in 1478 by order of his brother Edward IV. With the execution in 1499 of her own brother, the Earl of Warwick (who actually had a better claim to the throne than the reigning king, Henry VII), Margaret became the sole remaining heir to the Plantagenets. Under Henry VIII, she was granted the title of Countess of Salisbury and made governess to Henry’s daughter Mary, but her fortunes were about to change. As a devout Catholic she had been opposed to Henry’s divorce, which had incurred his displeasure, and she was now unjustly accused of being involved in plots against the king. She was imprisoned in the Tower of London, and on 27 May 1541, the 62-year-old countess was led out to the scaffold on Tower Green, where she was executed. Because the official executioner had been sent north to despatch some rebels, the job was given to ‘a wretched and blundering youth’ who, according to some eyewitnesses, took eleven strokes to remove her head. Traitor or not, no one deserves to die in that way. When this appalling butchery was over she was buried in the chapel of St Peter ad Vincula within the Tower.
During the late medieval and Tudor periods, towns and villages in England were required to form and maintain a militia of trained, able-bodied men who could be called upon to help defend the country in times of war. Some areas were more conscientious than others about this, so in 1569, during the reign of Elizabeth I, it was decided to compile a Muster Roll, a kind of military census to find out just how many men would be available if needed. The Muster Roll for the Hundred of ‘Kainesham’ (Keynsham) makes interesting reading. The ‘hundred’ comprised Keynsham itself and a number of the surrounding villages. Looking at the Roll, we find that altogether there were 194 ‘ablemen’, consisting of eighty-one archers, eighty-one billmen, twenty-six ‘pekemen’ (pikemen) and eight ‘gonners’ (gunners). Some of these men came from surrounding villages; Thomas Phelps was an archer from Marksbury and Robert Miller a billman from Stanton Drew (a bill was a pole weapon with a spike and a hook at the business end). The men were expected to provide their own weapons and whatever protective clothing they could find, and to be ready at short notice to fight for their sovereign and country should they be called upon.
With the threat of a Spanish invasion hanging over the England of Elizabeth I, preparations were made in readiness for it. England had a very efficient secret service, run by Sir Francis Walsingham, and his spies in Spain kept him informed of the progress of the enemy’s plans. The navy was strengthened, with 300 men of Somerset being levied to increase numbers. The principal landed gentry of Somerset formed an association whose purpose was to recruit troops for the defence of the country. Even the Church played a part, alarmed at the prospect of England being conquered by a Catholic nation. In the churchwardens’ accounts for Banwell in 1560, we find entries for the purchase of ‘Bowes, a Sheyffe of Arrowes and a Sworde’, total cost 13s 4d. In 1586 the rector of Weston-super-Mare made a contribution of £3 2s 6d towards the preparations.
Throughout various counties, surveys were carried out to determine the numbers of potential troops that might be called upon if necessary. In Somerset, 12,000 men were judged as ‘able-bodied’, of which 4,000 were assessed as trained and armed. Roughly half of these had firearms. Living in Somerset were many soldiers who had previously served in Spain, Ireland and the Low Countries, and were thus very experienced. One of these was Roger Sydenham, a man who had fought in Ireland with the Earl of Essex and had also seen service in Flanders. When, in July 1588, the Armada was sighted, these troops, accompanied by fifty lancers and 100 light horsemen, marched to London to defend the city.
Because no one knew for certain where the Spaniards intended to land, plans were made to move large numbers of men quickly. If it looked as though the landing was going to be at Plymouth or Falmouth, Somerset was to send 3,000 men to support those of Devon and Cornwall. Should it prove to be Poole, 4,000 troops would be sent there.
Somerset was also to provide ships. Bridgwater contributed a ship called the William, with a crew of forty, which in the event was sent to join Sir Francis Drake at Plymouth. Chard’s contribution was to fit out and man Drake’s own ship, Revenge, and Jacobe. News of the sighting of the Armada was first brought to Bridgwater by a ship that had spotted it three days earlier. As prearranged, warning beacons were lit up and down the country on elevated positions. In Somerset, the hills of Dunkery, Selworthy and Crook Peak were used.
At the time of the English Civil War (1642–51), Somerset was divided in its allegiance. The north largely supported Parliament, while the south mostly rallied to the Royalist cause. Taunton and Bridgwater backed Parliament, while Wells supported King Charles I. As is invariably the case with civil wars, families and friends were torn apart, sometimes with tragic results. In 1644, during an attack on Wardour Castle, near the border with Wiltshire, a young Royalist musketeer named Hilsdean was mortally wounded. His killer turned out to be his own brother, who was fighting for the other side. Sadly, such an occurrence was not uncommon in these turbulent times.
The commander of the Royalist forces in the West Country was Somerset-born Sir Ralph Hopton, described as ‘a man of great honour, integrity and piety’. In 1643, after forcing the towns of Taunton and Bridgwater to surrender, he led his troops towards his next objective, Bath. There he encountered the Parliamentary forces under the command of Sir William Waller, an old and close friend. The two armies clashed at Lansdown on 5 July 1643, in what became known as the Battle of Lansdown. Before the battle, Waller wrote to his friend and opponent, expressing his regret that they must fight and assuring Hopton that he felt no personal animosity towards him. He stressed how much he deplored ‘this warre without an Enemie’, but accepted that, ‘Wee are both upon the Stage, and must act those Parts that are assigned to us in this Tragedy.’
Waller and his troops had the advantage of the hilltop, and although the Royalist forces attacked strongly, they were at a disadvantage, and sustained heavy losses. During one assault the Cornish knight Sir Bevil Grenville was killed, and his monument stands on the hill today. Despite repeated attacks, Hopton’s troops were unable to dislodge Waller’s men, who were protected by a wall. Then, under cover of darkness, the Parliamentarians retreated to Bath, leaving lighted matches stuck in the wall to make their attackers think they were still there. When one of Hopton’s men was sent to investigate, he found no sign of the enemy.
Almost exactly two years after the battle at Lansdown, the Royalist and Parliamentarian armies met again in Somerset, this time near the town of Langport. The Royalists, led by General George Goring and about 7,000 strong, decided to make a stand near the town in the hope of halting the advance of the New Model Army. This numbered around 10,000 and was under the command of General Sir Thomas Fairfax, whose nickname was ‘Black Tom’. The Royalist commanders were prone to squabbling among themselves, whereas the Roundhead command was gaining a reputation for order and discipline.
The battle, on 10 July 1645, lasted only a few hours; the Royalists were outmanned and outgunned and suffered heavy losses. They were forced to retreat, with Goring setting fire to Langport in an attempt to hinder pursuit, but most of the fugitives were rounded up. Some were killed by angry townsfolk, who presumably objected to the burning of their town. This defeat of the last Royalist army to take the field marked the beginning of the end of the first Civil War.
A couple of months later, General Fairfax, carrying out mopping-up operations in Somerset, turned his attention to the Royalist-held Nunney Castle, near Frome. This small moated castle dates from the 1370s and was admired by John Leland in the sixteenth century (he wrote ‘the Castell is motyed about’). Commanding a large force, Fairfax laid siege to the castle for several days, during which the defenders tried a cunning ruse to discourage their attackers. Each morning they brought a young pig to one of the towers, pulling its ears and tail so that it squealed loudly. They hoped this would fool their besiegers into thinking they were slaughtering a pig every day, and thus had plenty of food, but the attackers were not fooled for long. Fairfax responded by bringing up some heavy firepower, which soon tore a breach in the walls and Nunney surrendered. The breach was never repaired, and can still be seen today.
Nunney Castle.
With the death of Charles II in February 1685, the kingdom passed to his brother James, who ascended the throne as James II. A staunch Roman Catholic, he was determined to restore Catholicism as the national religion, which brought him into conflict with both Church and Parliament. A plot was hatched with the intention of deposing him and replacing him with James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, the eldest (illegitimate) son of Charles II.
Monmouth’s first visit to Somerset, at the invitation of the Earl of Shaftesbury, had been in 1680, when he had made a ‘Progress’ through the western counties. Initially he had been well received, with welcoming crowds of up to 20,000, but the enthusiasm had soon waned. Perhaps he should have left it at that.
He returned on 11 June 1685, only four months into James II’s reign, landing at Lyme Regis, Dorset, along with eighty-two supporters, and quickly began to gather recruits; by 15 June his force exceeded 1,000 men. As they marched through the West Country their ranks swelled until the army numbered around 6,000, consisting largely of farm workers and craftsmen, mostly armed only with pitchforks, scythes, billhooks and other farm implements. This led to the uprising being known as the Pitchfork Rebellion. At Taunton, Monmouth made the huge mistake of allowing himself to be proclaimed king, so now he was officially a traitor.
Meanwhile, King James had received intelligence about the plot, and had despatched a force under the command of the Earl of Feversham, assisted by the renowned General John Churchill, to deal with the uprising. After a few minor skirmishes, the two forces finally clashed at Sedgemoor on 6 July. Monmouth’s untrained and badly equipped troops were no match for the professionals, and his forces were soon routed, the battle lasting about three hours. Some 1,300 of the rebels were killed or wounded and 2,700 captured. Monmouth himself escaped the battlefield disguised as a peasant, and so ended the last proper battle to be fought on English soil.
The aftermath of the battle was grim. Some of the rebels were hunted down and shot where they were found; others were hanged from gibbets, or even trees, at the side of the roads. Just east of Wrington, where three roads meet, a young tree stands on a triangle of grass. This marks the place where an older tree, known as the Hanging Tree, once stood, from which three local men were hanged after the battle. The king appointed Lord Chief Justice George Jeffreys, a man noted for his severity and who earned the nickname the Hanging Judge, to the task of supervising the rounding up the former Monmouth supporters to stand trial at Taunton, in what became known as the Bloody Assizes. Around 1,300 were found guilty, and some were hanged, drawn and quartered. Some of those who were spared the death penalty were transported to the Caribbean (849 in all), effectively to work as slaves, while others were whipped through the streets. Among the Somerset men who were transported to Barbados were nine from Bridgwater, who included George Carrow, William Tiverton and Joseph Vinicot, while some, including Thomas Galhampton of Westonzoyland, died on the voyage. The three hundred or so Somerset ‘rebels’ who were sentenced to death were executed in about thirty places within the county, and the warrants that were drawn up for them make grim reading:
Whereas I have received a Warrant under the hand and seal of the Right Honourable the Lord Jeffreys, for the execution of several Rebels within your said city or village. These are therefor to will and require you immediately on sight hereof to erect a gallows in the most public place … to hang the said Traitors on.
Instructions then follow as to how the executions are to be carried out. The local authorities had to provide halters of rope for the hanging, together with sufficient faggots (bundles of sticks) ‘to burn the Bowels of the said Traitors’. In addition they had to supply a large cauldron of salted water to boil their heads and quarters, plus tar to tar them with and poles to stick the heads on to warn off any other would-be rebels. Not a good day out, unless you had a strong stomach!
The very old George Inn at Norton St Philip became, for a time, the headquarters of Judge Jeffreys, and was used as the court in which many of Monmouth’s captured rebels were tried. Twelve local men were sentenced to death, and were hanged at The Mead, an open space behind the neighbouring Fleur de Lys pub. A local account tells of an innocent villager who, as the prisoners were being led to their execution, politely held open a gate to let them pass through. The unlucky man was swept along with the rest, and, in spite of his protests, was hanged along with them. To give one more example of Jeffreys’ implacability: after the battle, Sir John Stawell of Cothelstone Manor refused to meet him. Angered by the refusal, Jeffreys had two of Stawell’s supporters, Thomas Blackmore and Colonel Richard Bovett, hanged outside the gates of the Manor.
Judge Jeffreys.