Madhouse Networks in Devon and Somerset (1800 - 1850)

 Now that I am done with the PhD, I can finally share some of the discoveries I made whilst completing it! One of the very first things I did, back when I started was to map out the locations of private mental health establishments from 1750 - 1860. (Any info in this blog post can be further explored by reading my thesis which will be available online from 11/4/25 or cited as "Emma Barrett, A Delicate Matter: the private asylums of the South West of England 1770 - 1851, PhD Thesis, University of Plymouth, 2024.")

First, let me briefly explain what a private asylum was! 

So, back in the 1700s, the care of the mentally unwell fell to what was called "The Parish" - think like a local council. This was later changed to unions but still run locally. Hospitals for the mentally unwell as we think of them now just didn't exist because people were only just starting to realise that mental illness was an illness at all!  There was of course the infamous Bethlem in London and other charitable institutions but most likely if you were poor and mentally unwell you were bound for the nearest workhouse. The rich and unwell were predominantly cared for at home. 
In the mid 1700s a new "craze" began, as businessmen, clergy, and doctors too began to realise there was the potential to make money by housing the mentally unwell (and later treating them) in privately run "lunatic asylums" - also known as madhouses. These started out as almost like care homes for the rich mentally unwell, but were soon taking on poorer patients too, paid for by the parish unions.  Before 1770 this was completely ungoverned! No lists of patients, licencing or records had to be kept at all and anybody could set up shop as a madhouse. In 1770, a bill passed into law that any houses such as these had to at least be licenced and had to keep a register of who they housed. This suddenly became a booming business - especially in the south west of England but all over the country too! 

However, madhouses soon picked up a bad reputation! 

Stories became rife of mistreatment, unnecessary detainment and people being forced into asylums in order to steal fortunes. Women, it was told, were especially vulnerable to being locked away by unscrupulous husbands and fathers. Now, this reputation doesn't entirely hold up when these asylums are studied, and my thesis goes further into how this damning reputation was created, however for this post all we need to say is that there was a real mixture of different types of asylums, all with different conditions within (from the very good, to very poor). There was not, however, the abundance of forcibly held sane people that literature and public opinion would have you believe. 

In the south west, there were more private asylums than anywhere else in the country - three times as many at one point! I will attach a map I created for my thesis to demonstrate the sheer numbers here - it's a little hard to read on this scale but at least shows you the numbers and rough locations:

The details are as follows:

What becomes even more interesting than the sheer numbers, is the network of people running them. Of the above, most of the men (and women!) running these asylums were doctors. Unusual for the time. More unusual were the links between them. At least 5 of the above, for example, were run by (at least for a short time) 1 of 2 brothers - the "Duck" brothers. 3 of the others were run by a family named Langworthy and there was a link by marriage between the two families too (James Duck's son married Caroline Langworthy - the daughter of another asylum owner). These families then, had a huge influence over mental health care in the region. Many of them were in (and on occasions ran) the Taunton branch of the local medical society too. Unfortunately, being run by one of these men was a sure-fire sign, however, that the asylum's conditions would be poor as all of the Langworthy asylums and most of the Duck asylums were heavily censured in inspections once those became commonplace in the 1800s.  (for more info on this, see my earlier blog post about Plympton House Asylum HERE )


Additionally, 

For anybody interested, or anybody doing family history, here is also a list of the persons running asylums in the south west of England and which asylums they ran :) 

Edward Long Fox                         Physician                          Cleave hill, Brislington

William Finch (2)                          Physician                          Laverstock

Charles Langworthy                   Physician                          Kingsdown

Robert Langworthy                      Physician                          Longwood, Kingsdown

William Finch (1)                          Not Medical                    Laverstock

Ann Hinks                                      Not Medical                    Nailsea

Martha Hinks                                Not Medical                    Nailsea

Justinian Mercer                          Not Medical                    Halstock

Caroline Finch                             Not Medical                    Laverstock

William Gillett                              Not Medical                    Fivehead

Robert Willett                               Not Medical                    Market Lavington

Zachariah Jefferies                      Physic                               Kingsdown

Nehemiah Duck                           Surgeon                            Cleve, Ridgeway

James Rich                                   Surgeon                            Ford House

Richard Langworthy                    Surgeon                            Plympton

john J Mercer                                Surgeon and Apoc         Halstock

William Spicer                             Not Medical                    Broadhayes

William Symes                             Surgeon                            Cranbourne

William E Gillet                             Surgeon and Apoc         Fivehead, Fairwater

James Duck                                  Physician                          Cleve, Fullands, Plympton

Charls Finch                                 Not Medical                    Fisherton (plus others)

Joseph Spry                                  Not Medical                    Bailbrook

Elizabeth Langworthy                 Not Medical                    Kingsdown

Joseph F Spencer                        Surgeon                            Fonthill

William C Finch                          Surgeon                            Fisherton (plus others not in region)

Betsey Mercer                            Not Medical                    Halstock

Alice Mercer                              Not Medical                    Halstock

 

For anybody who is interested, I do have a future post planned which will explain the different job titles the medical professionals had - when it's done I will add a link here :) 

John Clare - the "Mad Poet"

 John Clare, often referred to as 'The Pauper Poet', stands out as a quintessential romantic figure in English literature. He first captured public attention in 1820 at the age of twenty-seven while working
as an agricultural laborer and gardener.

In the quaint village of Helpston, located just six miles north of Peterborough, a remarkable figure for English Poetry was born: John Clare, affectionately known as "The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet." Born in Peterborough in Northamptonshire on July 13th 1793, Clare's early years were shaped by a humble, yet vibrant rural existence. He began working as an agricultural labourer at a tender age but found solace and inspiration in education, attending a school in nearby Glinton until he was 12. As a young adult, Clare took on various roles, including working as a potboy at The Blue Bell public house, where he fell for a girl named Mary Joyce, a romance thwarted by her father’s firm disapproval. His journey was marked by diverse experiences; he worked as a gardener at the grand Burghley House, served in the militia, and even dabbled in the nomadic lifestyle of the local travelling community. However, by 1818, circumstances forced him to rely on parish relief (money and support from the parish to live), a reminder of the challenges faced by many in his time. 

Despite these factors against him, Clare rose to literary prominence after his poems caught the attention
of local bookseller Edward Drury, who facilitated their publication through John Taylor of Taylor & Hessey. His first collection, "Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery," released in 1820, garnered significant acclaim, leading to further works like "Village Minstrel and Other Poems" in 1821, and he became celebrated for his authentic portrayal of rural life, much to the delight of critics and readers alike, who hailed his talent despite his humble origins.

Despite publishing several acclaimed collections of poetry, Clare still struggled with the trauma of his early life, a struggle which resulted in profound mental illness. In 1837, he was admitted to High Beech private asylum in Essex, marking the beginning of a turbulent period that would see him move between several asylums until his death in 1864. His experiences in these institutions deeply influenced his work and his mental health—diagnosed with depression, trauma, and anxiety —manifested in powerful delusions. In 1841, after escaping High Beech Asylum, Clare was recaptured and sent to Northampton General Lunatic Asylum, where he penned evocative poetry that reflected his mental state. 

Say maiden wilt thou go with me  

Through this sad non-identity  

Where parents live and are forgot  

And sisters live and know us not?  

Say maiden wilt thou go with me  

In this strange death of life to be  

To live in death and be the same  

Without this life, or home, or name.  

His later works, including a reimagining of Byron’s “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” delved into more literal interpretations of his confinement, emphasizing themes of imprisonment and despair. Clare's desperate plea to remain at his cottage, recounted in Frederick Martin’s 1865 biography, highlights the tragic circumstances of his life.

 "He struggled hard when the keepers came to fetch him, imploring them, with tears in his eyes, to leave him at his little cottage, and seeing all resistance fruitless, declaring his intention to die rather than to go to such another prison as that from which he had escaped" 

Despite his plight, Clare's poems resonated with readers across England, particularly in the southwestern regions where agricultural laborers could well relate to his experiences as a rural worker. Newspapers widely published Clare’s work, often accompanied by notes on his life and struggles, including the Devizes and Wiltshire Gazette’s publication of “Invite to Eternity,” which described Clare's unique intellect despite his circumstances. Clare was, he said, 

"indistinguishable from other pauper patients but for the ‘traces of intellectual spirit."

John Clare's life, characterized by both his deep mental health challenges and his rich bond with nature, presents a distinctive viewpoint in studies such as my thesis, especially during the Romantic era when numerous poets encountered similar difficulties. His time in the asylum didn't stifle his creativity; instead, it ignited a prolific flow of work that vividly expressed his experiences, feelings, and observations of the natural world. Clare's talent for conveying the complexities of his struggles through poetry not only sheds light on the intricate link between creativity and mental illness but also showcases his resilience and commitment to his art, setting him apart from his contemporaries who might have chosen silence as an escape.

Refs:

            Emma Barrett, A Delicate Matter: The Madhouses of The South West Of England, 1770 – 1851, (PHD Thesis: Plymouth University, 2004), p.55-58
‘John Clare the Peasant Poet’, Coventry Standard, 10 June 1864, p.3; ‘Peasant Poet, Clare’, Roscommon & Leitrim Gazette, 2 April 1842, p.4.
Frederick Martin. The Life of John Clare. (London: Macmillan, 1865), p.201.
Anindita Chatterjee, ‘“I think I have been here long enough”: John Clare and the Poetry of His Asylum Years.’ Rupkatha Journal on Interdisciplinary Studies in Humanities 3.4 (2011).
Edward Strickland, ‘John Clare and the Sublime.’ Criticism 29.2 (1987): 141-161. (p.143).
 Willima C Engels, ‘Clare’s Mocking Tone’, The John Clare Journal, 15:1 (1996) p.57.
Delphi, Delphi Complete Works of John Clare - Kindle Edition (Hastings: Delphi Publications, 2013) p.1195 (This poem was originally published in Later Poems, 1837 – 1864).
Femi Oyebode ‘Recollections of journey from Essex by John Clare.’ Advances in psychiatric treatment (2012), vol. 18, 56–58.

Louisa - the Lady of the Haystack

 

Whilst researching my PhD, I stumbled upon a sweet but sad little story set in Somerset. An apparent true story, it was reported in The Lady’s Monthly Museum in 1801 that a "madwoman" had appeared in the Bristol region living ‘under a haystack’ and could not be coaxed to reside in a house until a lady persuaded her to go to an unnamed local private asylum nearby.[2] The location, ‘four miles from Bristol’ and the date given of admission, 1781, means it was probably Fishponds Asylum, Somerset - a well-known and renowned asylum which was opened in 1740.[3] When she was released "Louisa" returned to sleeping in the haystack and refused to move. Finally, she was apprehended and was admitted to "Guy’s Lunatic Hospital" in Bristol.[4] Louisa was described as ‘beautiful, graceful and elegant’, with the ‘deportment and conversation of superior breeding’.[6] A portrait of "Louisa" is shown below.

In 1804, this story was republished anonymously as a chapbook in London. This type of gothic chapbook, described sometimes as a ‘Shilling Shocker’, was a cheaply printed short – sometimes serialised – book aimed at the general public , much like a "Penny Dreadful" would become in later years.[7]  The Chapbook had this fantastic title:

The Affecting History of Louisa, the Wandering Maniac, or, ‘Lady of the Hay-Stack;’ So called, from having taken up her Residence under that Shelter, in the Village of Bourton, Near Bristol, in a State of Melancholy Derangement: A Real Tale of Woe.

 In the Shilling Shocker rendition, Louisa’s story was retold, but with the (most likely untrue) assertion that the girl was in fact a member of the German royalty! Louisa - it told -  had fled to England and become impoverished and mad.  This chapbook was accompanied by more illustrations in a Romantic style, and shows Louisa as a‘damsel in distress’ archetype.  This chapbook was published anonymously, however it was likely inspired by another, earlier telling of the tale, thought to be by George Henry Glasse (a clergyman). Glasse’s original story was published in 1785, four years after the event was said to have occurred. Glasse’s version of this story was also turned into a play, The Maid of Bristol in 1803 with similar embellishments.[8]

Despite that it is difficult to find any mention of Louisa in the papers, another character from this little drama was indeed a real person! Hannah Moore, who is said to have paid for the girl's charity was in fact a poet and a vocal supporter of the abolition of slavery. Hannah was deeply enriched in Christian values and abhorred seeing people in states of great poverty. Due to this, she set up a series of charitable institutions and schools for impoverished girls in Somerset. 

Hannah Moore - Louisa's benefactor

Another poet, Ann Yearsy of Bristol even wrote a poem about Louisa - 

Here the fair mania bore three winter snows,

 Here long she shivered stiffening in the blast; 

The lightning round their livid horrors cast; 

The thunders roared, while rushing torrents pour 

And add new woes to black affliction’s hour.

Despite knowing quite a bit about Louisa's life after she was found from the accounts of poets and also the doctor who treated her until her death in Guy's hospital in 1801, one thing has never been discovered - who really was Louisa?  I guess only conjecture remains!

[1]      ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.420.

[2]      ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.422.

[3]      In 1781, the only private asylums which operated in the region were Fishponds and Nailsea. Fishponds was located three miles from Bristol, whilst Nailsea was eleven miles.

[4]      This was the asylum which was attached to the workhouse.

[5] ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.423.

[6] ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.421.

[7]      Franz Potter, Gothic Chapbooks, Bluebooks and Shilling Shockers, (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2021), p.41.

[8]      James Boeden,. The Maid of Bristol: A Play in Three Acts. (New York: D. Longworth, 1803).

[9]      Anon, Louisa, Lady of the Haystack, p.7.

 

A Ghost Story (and some history!)

 Hello all!
As some of you will be aware, I am (and have been for some time) working on a creative non-fiction book about local ghost stories called "Conversations About Ghosts" and I would like to share a ghost story from that collection with you as well as some of my research surrounding it. This story was told to me by my mother, and was one of her "real life" experiences.  Here's the story:

‘When I was a fair bit younger than I am now, and pregnant with my second to last. Me and M (her ex-husband) decided to take Rex – my old collie – for a walk up in the countryside behind the house. It was late in the afternoon but it was summer so we set out into the fields with our picnic and a book each. We were still fairly newly married at the time, with baby on the way. I didn’t want to walk too far so we stuck to the fields opposite the house and then settled down in the grass. I guess my mum had the other kids as it was just me and M. Rex didn’t need a lead as there were no sheep or anything around so we just let him off to explore and play - irresponsible, maybe - but we were young and it was normal for us when walking him. We stayed in the fields which run alongside the lane until evening began to really creep in, when the air got more chill we decided to call it a day and packed up our things. I called Rex back from the other end of the field by a gate where he was sniffing about... but he didn’t come. I called again and nothing - then he started to bark, deep and booming, growling barks. Now, Rex was a really friendly dog! He never barked aggressively (although being a collie, excited barking was a different matter). This sounded fairly threatening though and so, embarrassed, I ran up to grab him. The naughty thing was at one of the stiles which go over into a lane behind, and when he saw us coming he jumped over the short fence. I was astounded, this was so out of character! He was normally such a good dog but he was obviously really wound up. M and I ditched our bag by the stile, I climbed over into the lane to grab the dog and M followed. There, we were surprised (and initially somewhat relieved) not to find a person or perhaps another dog as the object of Rex’s ire, but in fact a very small and compact patch of mist. 

Then confusion rose again. 

Why on earth was the stupid dog barking at mist?
So, I was a bit spooked, I won’t lie. The lane is very spooky anyway, deserted with not a house in sight, just tall hedges and countryside. This wasn’t the first spooky thing I have seen in my life, but it was just odd and weird and I was pregnant and tired and not in the mood. I looked at M to see he seemed to share my feelings, lips pressed and eyes wary. I called firmly to Rex who was, just by the way, on the other side of the damn mist. He ignored me. Completely. We tried walking away and calling him but he just stayed, ‘ruprupruprup’ a few growls, then back to the barking. In the whole time I’d owned him, I’d only ever seen Rex do this once before, and that was when M and I had had a big row and he’d got between us. Even then, he’d not growled, just barked, so this was a whole new experience. As I looked at the mist too, I got a weird feeling about it. It kind of looked a bit like a person's outline, a man - taller than me - definite head shape, but with a undefined body and then tapers which looked like arms and legs. Even as I stood puzzling on it, M put a hand on my shoulder - I physically jumped - right out of my skin.
'Annie,' he said, 'does that... does that look like a person?'
I was glad he'd said it first. I said nothing but managed to nod. It was right next to us, not moving - still and normal, but with my dog barking madly on the other side.
'I'm going to have to get him,' I said, but I was still reluctant to touch the misty figure. I wet my lips and then suddenly, I stepped forward and grabbed the dog's collar. It was like walking into a freezer! I started shivering almost in the - what - 2 seconds I was in there? I grabbed for the dog and I managed to get him and then I tell you, I was over that stile in a second and gone!

And that was her story, a story she told over and over again! Now, I am sure, like me as a young skeptic that I was, you are probably thinking "come on, that was just mist", but even if it was, my mother wasn't the only person to tell me a story about that exact same place! (you'll have to wait for the book to hear the rest!)  Let me show you my little map from my notes...

   On the graphic included above, points A to E are places where the stories I have gathered about this lane are said to have happened, to the best of my knowledge from piecing it together from the stories. There is also a missing point F and G because I am unsure where exactly in the lane these encounters happened. So straight off the bat, there seems to be a lot of ghost stories originating about this same lane. 

    In part this can be put down to the fact that stories travel - especially on little estates like ours, and the lane is very quiet and eerie, especially in early morning or at twilight! It would only take a person to hear a story such as my mothers and then find themselves alone walking their dog as the sun is dipping to start to feel that chill on your spine. Having walked it myself many a time, I can tell you that both sides of the lane are set in by tall hedges with only the occasional gate to break the trees. As my mum described, there were no houses really anywhere close by it, aside from an old place called Butteville House (built 1820s) just on the edge of the lane. It’s a popular spot for both hiking and dog walking as no cars are allowed up it past Butteville. 

The picturesque Buttville House, Kingsbridge, alongside which the lane runs. Image from Strutt and Parker Estate Agents

The floor is uneven, some old broken cobbles still remaining here and there but mostly mud and stones. It runs for a good mile, before splitting into two parts, one of which returns you to the housing estates, the other which snakes off towards the now modern road to the next village. As far as I can gather, Mum and M were in the first part of the lane, still, before it broke into two. 

"But this is a history blog, Emma!" I hear you shout, "so let's do some history!" 

Ok! Let's do some history! A quick glance at some old maps shows me that the "lane" is actually all that remains of the old road from my hometown to another little village nearby, although it no longer goes that far. The first thing that is interesting is that whilst the "lane" proper seems to have been a road, the offshoot looks more like it was a footpath and went a slightly different way. This holds up to walk it as that part of the lane is much narrower and meets a modern road which did not exist then.

This is from the 1886 Ordinance Survey

By 1938 however, the roads on the map were then labelled with road names, however "the lane" - whilst marked, is not named, therefore leading me to believe that sometime between 1886 and 1938 this road fell into disuse!

A theory put about in local myth and told to me at least twice was that it was a condemned man making his last walk to the gallows, however since there never was a gallows in Kingsbridge along this road, that can purely be put down to myth! I did look a little further into this just in case, using internet newspaper archives. Turns out there was only one instance of highway robbery reported in the town and it was on a completely different road. Searches for Butteville and Buttville came up with only births and deaths at the house! There was an unexpected death at nearby Washbrook Mill in 1899, however it was an elderly woman who died after feeling unwell rather than anything nefarious. No accidental deaths were even recorded on the road!

And so all leads came to nothing!

This is the part of doing this sort of research that the spooky ghostly documentaries and "ghost hunter" shows never tell you - I'd say 90% of my research into these sorts of hauntings lead to nothing when you start to explore the history - of course the older a building or place, the more likely it is to throw up something relatable, but not always! This was one of those cases. So, why are so many people experiencing weird phenomena on an apparently unremarkable road? Who knows!

 

Tudors in Devon (and some ghosts too!) - Berry Pomeroy Castle

 Today's post contains not only some Tudor history and some local history, but some ghost stories too! I really am spoiling you! 

Most people reading this will have heard of Henry VIII and his infamous 6 wives! Most will even be able to name those poor unfortunate ladies - Katherine of Aragon, Ann Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Ann of Cleeves, Catherine Howard, Katherine Parr - but what some of you might not know is that one of the most famous stately home castles in Devon was actually owned by Jane Seymour's brother! 

Berry Pomeroy Castle sits out in the countryside between Paignton and Totnes on the edge of Berry Pomeroy village. The place is atmospheric and set into some of the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen. Sadly, however the house stands in ruins these days and was in fact not actually ever finished in the first place! Here's a pic I took last time I was there...

Berry Pomeroy Castle, taken in between lockdowns 2020 by myself, Dr Emma Barrett.

Berry Pomeroy's origins are interesting. Originally, the house or at least parts of it were thought to be of Norman origin, however it's been discovered recently that in fact whilst the Pomeroy family was present in the village in that era, they actually lived in a smaller mansion near tot he church! The original structures, then were more likely built in the late 1400s by Henry Pomeroy or his heirs. 
The distinctive house within - as seen in my pic above, was actually built much later. 
Edward Seymour, the Lord Protector of England (Uncle of Henry VII's surviving son and brother tot he late Queen Jane) bought the land and buildings on it in 1547 during a time where he was in high favour and was buying up fancy houses throughout the country. Whilst Berry Pomeroy was the most valuable asset he acquired, there is no evidence that he did anything to the mansion himself - especially due to his soon thereafter downfall and execution. (Jane Seymour's brothers fell from grace quickly with both Edward and Thomas being executed within about ten years of each other! Thomas is also an interesting character having married Henry VIII's widow Katherine Parr in secret - but that's another story for another time!)

After Edward was executed, the house passed down to his heirs rather than revert to the crown, and it was his son who first settled there and began an ambitious plan to build a huge stately home there. Alas, he ran out of cash before he was done and so Berry Pomeroy was never completed! Despite that, the land and the ruin within are still owned by the Seymour family to this day.
 For a more in depth account of the history of the house, the current caretakers - English Heritage - have a great blog post on it and rather than just repeat that, I suggest that you have a look at that HERE 

I first encountered Berry Pomeroy a lot earlier in life than my love of history, though! When I was younger, I began to collect Ghost Stories from people with a view to writing a book (a project 25 years in the making and still ongoing! See HERE for more info on that! ) and being local to Totnes of course I heard a lot of stories about Berry Pomeroy (these will be in the book if I ever finish it!). From ghostly figures in the woods, to spectral children Berry Pomeroy has earned it's reputation as one of the most haunted sites in Devon! I've actually visited the place many a time myself - as a younger woman looking for ghosts and as an older one just to enjoy the peace and ambiance! Below is a pic of me and one of my close friends posing for an atmospheric photo at the last visit!

Myself (Dr Emma Barrett) and a friend Miss Tabitha Shave at the ruins

Now, I tend to take the middle road with ghost stories I am open-minded but also quite skeptical - I love to hear about experiences and have experienced some weird (but probably explainable) phenomena myself, but I do take a lot of ghost stories with a pinch of salt. Berry Pomeroy is a fine example of that. One of the most repeated and recognised stories is that of The white and Blue ladies of the castle.

I quote from a ghostly blogger:

"The White Lady is the restless soul of Margaret Pomeroy. She haunts the dungeons of St. Margaret’s Tower and has been seen waving to visitors. She was held captive in the castle dungeons by her sister, Eleanor, because of jealousy and starved to death in the dungeons"

A ghoulish though indeed. Whilst I have chosen this quote - this is a very common tale about the castle and I have heard similar told to me accompanied by apparent sightings. (as in "I thought I saw the ghost of Matilda / Margaret De Pomeroy... then launch into the story). 

HOWEVER! It's not true! 

In the 1800s, the castle ruins became a haven for artists and writers during the romantic movement and of course the castle was perfect as the setting for a gothic novel! In 1806, a writer by the name of Edward Montague wrote a spooky gothic novel using the castle as it's base. His novel featured the fictional Elinor De Pomeroy and her sister Matilda. Elinor, jealous of her sister marrying the man that she loved, had her murdered. The sister's ghost then began to appear as a white lady around the castle to bring attention to her sister's nefarious deeds! Sound familiar? Probably because it is very likely that this novel forms the basis for these particular tales! 

Further to this, however - I have also seen people claiming that the book is based on real events, some say from the medieval period, others say from the 1700s... the latter is very unlikely as the house was a ruin far before then!

As to a medieval source, firstly, Elinor De Pomeroy seems never to have existed! There is some evidence that there may have been a lady called Matilda De Pomeroy - in fact her full name was Matilda “Maud” De Vitre De Pomeroy. However Matilda was not a daughter of the house, but was in fact married into the family as the wife of Henry De Pomeroy in the 1100s. As we have seen by the above history, this means she actually never set foot on the grounds of the castle as it is known now, and would have resided at the previous smaller mansion nearer the village. Matilda did indeed die young, most likely in childbirth or shortly after from the dates given for her only son's birth, however that is about all that is known about her!

To add to this, the idea of a "white lady" ghost is actually a staple of many folk-lorish ghost stories all around the world - thought to be the spirits of the murdered, suicides or those who have died at a time of unrequited love. It is more likely, then, that Montague based his white lady ghost more in this sort of folklore than actual events.

The second most famous spirit said to haunt Berry Pomeroy is the fabled "blue lady" and she seems to originate from the 1700s. In the 1790s, a memoir was published by a rich doctor (Dr Farquar) who told a tale of a woman roaming the village of Berry Pomeroy who he considered to be a reliable harbinger of local deaths. Not a living woman, but a ghost of some poor unfortunate. Dr Farquar's story seems to be the first instance of this ghost story coming to light, with later retellings moving to describe the woman as dressed in blue. This then morphed into sightings at the castle, and then finally to her as a spectre which led the unwary to their deaths in falling from one of the towers. In many ghostly blogs the blue lady of Berry Pomeroy is stated to be that of a woman who lived in the Norman castle and who murdered her incest-conceived child. This is of course, debunked by the history, since the castle did not stand in Norman times. Also, noteworthy, incestual relationships are another staple of Gothic Literature (the Castle of Otrano springs to mind, by Warpole - which is said to be the first true gothic novel), and so it is likely that this story too is the product of over stimulated gothic imagination!

Tudors in Devon, Lady Jane Grey

 Now, we all know my area of expertise is eighteenth and nineteenth century, folklore and local history, but like so much of the population, I do also have an interest in the Tudor court and it's current cultural representation in TV programs, movies and books. Due to this, one thing I always like to see is a famous name attached to some local history! 

Lady Jane Grey's story is an unfortunate one! Lady Jane, if you don't know who she was, was a young woman who had the misfortune to be placed on the throne of England where she reigned for only 9 days before her arrest. She was the Great-granddaughter of Henry VII (The first Tudor King). Her mother was Frances Brandon, who was in turn the daughter of Mary Tudor (the sister of Henry VIII). Due to these royal connections, When Henry's only son, Edward VI was newly king, Jane was a good candidate to have become his wife, and would have been if her uncle (who was orchestrating the union) had not been arrested and later executed for treason, leading Jane to marry a youth called Lord Dudley instead. Jane's other link to the Tudor court was her childhood spent as the ward of Henry VIII's surviving wife, Katherine Parr. 

A later imagining of LJG from 1793 courtesy of the National
Portrait Gallery (Academic Licence)

When Edward VI died his untimely death, Lady Jane's husband and father moved swiftly to put her on the throne due to the fact that Edward himself had named her heir due to the issues surrounding his sister's legitimacy (left over grief from Henry's various ways of ending his marriages!). This did not go down well, however, with the soon to be queen Mary I. The Greys did not have the public's support either, and so any powerful supporters they had to the claim soon melted away. Lady Jane, her husband and father were all arrested for high treason and on November 14th, 1553, found themselves in the Tower of London facing high treason charges. Initially, Lady Jane's father was pardoned but both her and her husband were sentenced to death. Lady Jane's sentence was initially suspended. In 1554, however, a new rebellion was started in her name. This new rebellion failed and both Lady Jane and her husband (as well as her previously pardoned father who was tied up in the new rebellion) were executed. Lady Jane Grey is said in popular legend to have fainted when the plot to make her Queen as announced, and was just 17 years old when she died. She has long since been remembered as an innocent victim of her family's greed.

So what were Lady Jane's ties to Devon? 
I first saw Lady Jane's name tied to Devon whilst reading up on a manor house in Ilfracombe after being told a ghost story for my book. The suite of haunted rooms is named the Lady Jane Rooms. Intrigued, I pushed on and discovered that in fact the house there had previously belonged to Lady Jane's mother. From what I can gather in my research, there is no evidence to say whether a young Lady Jane ever spent any time in the house but it is unlikely that she lived there, however it is more than possible she visited! The main bedroom there holds a Tudor era tapestry which has a coat of arms on it which is that of a relation of the Grey family. Chambercombe Manor (the house in question) also has a history of hauntings associated with these rooms but they pertain not to Lady Jane herself, but to another lady who stayed in those rooms. (If you like ghost stories, check out some of my other posts HERE).

A famous (much later) painting of Lady Jane's Execution from 1833 (Paul Delaroche)

Whilst Lady Jane did not necessarily spend much time in Devon herself, there are actually several other close family links! Her grandparents owned a house over near the Wiltshire border named Knightstone, and her father also had a house built near Exeter - Peamore House - which reverted to the crown and was sold after his execution. Even Boringdon Hall - that gorgeous old Tudor house near Plymouth (where, incidentally, I married my first husband!) was owned by Henry Grey for a short time, before being sold on. 

Nursery Rhyme Origins - Jack and Jill

Another nursery rhyme post to get me back into the swing of posting! The other day my partner and I were discussing Jack and Jill and what some of the elements of the rhyme might mean so I thought I would break it down for you (and him!)

Firstly, let’s look at the lyrics:

 Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water

Jack fell down and broke his crown

And jill came tumbling after.

Up Jack got and home did trot as fast as he could caper

And went to bed to mend his head

With vinegar and brown paper.

 

Now, anyone who has read my other nursery rhyme analysis (which is available here!) will know that often rhymes like this are metaphorical and tend to relate to real people or events.

 I’ll start with a bit of language analysis. Let’s first look at the word “Crown” – most people accept that Jack’s broken crown is in fact the top of his head and that is perfectly plausible in the circumstances, especially with the final lines to “mend his head”, so that is the most likely usage here. There is a theory circulating online, however, that the word crown might be more literal! This theory states that Jack and Jill were in fact the poor deposed and executed monarchs Louis XViii and his infamous queen Marie Antoinette! This seems to be a common theme from what I have seen online, and certainly it seems to fit the bill – he fell and lost his crown and she came tumbling after. It certainly could be describing those events. The extra evidence of this given is that most people cite the first publication of the rhyme to be in 1795, two years after the pair fell to the guillotine… HOWEVER, this does not check out and this rumour seems to have become an easily passed on myth! From my research I have found a copy in 1777,[1] and previous to that in 1765! So Jack and Jill is categorically NOT about the French royalty of the revolution! Myth busted!

Printed in a 1777 songbook - see footnote 1

So, how old is Jack and Jill? That is the next question! The first full publication of the rhyme I can find is currently 1765, however, I have found references to Jack and Jill earlier! In 1744, an epic poem about the English Revolution cites:

 “Our Merry Pipes, for Trumpet’s shrill,

Our tabers changed to drums

Princes are braved by Jack and Jill,

Wat Tiller and Tom Thumb!”[2]

This rhyme was said to date from 1661. Now, to complicate matters, it is true that the phrase “Jack and Jill” was often used to generally describe and man and woman, often married (as early as Shakespeare), however it is what it is accompanied by in this rhyme that caught my attention. Tom Thumb for example being a creature of English Folklore. (Conversely, however, Wat Tiller / Tyler was a real man who fought a rebellion against the crown in 1377, however – like “Robin Hood” figures, his deeds are often remembered with folklore-like twists of nostalgia and hero-worship). With the extra addition that this verse speaks of music changing from merry to battle, and with reference to old customs, could Jack and Jill actually be some lost element of English folklore?

This theory goes back further too! With a reference from the 1690s which refers to Jack and Jill as a children’s story! [3]

For my part, I would as soon commend the children's stories of Tom Thumb - and of Jack and Jill

 - See footnote 3!

 With this in mind, let’s have a look at any theories which are said to originate prior to this!

 “Jack and Jill Hill” in somerset is supposed to the actual hill from the rhyme and gives a local folklore tale to explain it. This hill in the 1805 original ordinance survey maps is actually entitled “Bram Hill”[4]. The tale told is a simple one, that a woman – Gill - was pregnant and that her husband fell and died on Bram hill.[5] The grief-stricken woman also died soon after and so her child was brought up by the villagers, thus leading to the common usage of the surname Gilson in that area. The evidence added is that in the 1765 Mother Goose version of the rhyme, the spelling is “Gill” rather than Jill.  This was supposed to have happened in 1697 however and so at once, this falls after the first mentions we have heard of Jack and Jill as a “children’s story”.  This research also ties in with an earlier assumption made by Opie and Opie that the form of the rhyme and the words used are from the seventeenth century (1600s) at least.[6]

 There is of course, the possibility that the rhyme originated here using references to a previous children’s story which would explain the links made here. However, I find this to be somewhat charming, but unlikely.

One final set of theories is that the rhyme has Tudor or Stuart Origin.  Some say it was to do with the execution of two noblemen, another that it was more to do with changes to the size of measures for tax purposes (As in, a tax bill was blocked so instead of raising taxes, the monarch – Charles I – reduced the size of the measure instead) involving the archaic measurements of a Jack (Or Jigger) and a Gill.

To conclude. As ever with this type of thing, we never can know for sure the origins of this rhyme, however, my money is on it being an old lost piece of folklore – a “children’s” story which over the years was morphed into the rhyme as we know it today. I can tell you for certain that it was not about Marie Antoinette and her unlucky husband, and it seems unlikely that it was about Gill of Somerset and her untimely demise.

 

 

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[1] John Arnold, The Essex Harmony ... Vol.ii. The Second Edition with large Additions, 1777 (London: J Buckland Printers), p.130

[2] I have modified the language used to make it accessible for the non-historians out there! If you would like to see it in its original form, see Harleian Miscellany, Or a Collection of Scarce, Curious, and rare pamphlets and tracts, 1744, Volume 2, Page 508, (available free to read on google books.)

[3] Vindiciæ Anti-Baxterianæ: or, Some Animadversions on a book, intituled the life of Mr Rihard Baxter, 1696, (London, Richard Standfast Dist), p.202.

[4] As can be seen here: https://tinyurl.com/5n6s82nn

[5] This theory is available to read in many blogs and websites, an example is: https://www.theimportanceofbeingtrivial.com/where-jack-and-jill-really-did-go-up-the-hill.html

[6] Opie and Opie, The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes (London: )p.