1724 Somerset Map

There are some interesting anglicisations on the 1724 county map. Many stay the same (such as Yeovil, West Coker), and others are close enough to suggest a typo (such as Ilmister for Ilminster). There are some that some strangely reconfigured (such as Crookhorn for Crewkerne and Meryot for Merriott).

On Ogilby’s 1675 journey map London to “the Land’sEnd,” the itinerary runs ” Andover, through Middle Wallop, to the Wiltshire border, Hampshire ; then Salisbury, Wiltshire; to Shaftesbury, Sherborne, Dorset; and Yeovil to Crookhorn, Somerset.”

This map also has Meryot, Parrott, and Birdport (for Bridport – another typo?)

According to the will of John Partridge 1595 https://discovery.nationalarchives.gov.uk/details/r/D931121

Crewkerne was called Crookhorn in 1595.

Broadmead & Blackfriars

Broadmead

Blackfriars was founded as a Dominican priory by Maurice de Gaunt circa 1227. The site in Broadmead was just north of the town walls. The name “Blackfriars” comes from the black hooded cloak that the friars wore over their white habits.^[1] Henry III supported the building of the church and priory, which took over forty years. Oak was supplied from the Forest of Dean and the king granted the friars charitable gifts and a moiety of fish landed in the port.^[2]

In 1232, a royal grant gave the friars the right to build a conduit to supply fresh water from Peniwell, now known as Pennywell. This conduit was later given to the Mayor and town council in exchange for a feather, a branch pipe, supplying fresh water from Baptist Mills.^[3] In 1287, Llywelyn ap Dafydd, de jure Prince of Gwynedd, died in captivity in Bristol Castle and was buried in the Blackfriars graveyard.^[4]

John Hilsey, prior of Blackfriars became provincial of the Dominican order in England in 1534. Thomas Cromwell appointed him as one of Henry VIII‘s visitors, charged with inspecting monastic houses and administering the oath of allegiance, under the Act of Supremacy. In 1538 during the Dissolution of the Monasteries, four remaining friars surrendered the buildings and contents. In 1540 the site was purchased from the king by William Chester, who had just finished a term of office as Mayor of Bristol.^[5] The area comprised some 6.75 acres (2.73 ha)^[6]

During the reign of Elizabeth I parts of the premises were acquired by the Smiths and Cutlers Company and they in turn leased parts of it to the Corporation in 1654 for use as a workhouse for poor girls.^[7] Eventually the Smith’s Hall and the adjacent Baker’s Hall were acquired by the Religious Society of Friends and the premises became popularly known as Quakers Friars.^[8] In 1681 a mob led by John Hellier attacked the Quakers’ meeting hall during persecutions following the Conventicles Act 1670.

George Fox in Bristol (1)

One of the most powerful voices that was raised on behalf of justice and equality in Bristol was that of George Fox, the visionary founder of the Quakers.

The first mention of the “Friends” in Bristol was of the imprisonment, in October 1652, of two itinerant Quaker preachers. They were arraigned before the Common Council for disturbing the peace. Details are scant but this either meant street preaching or interrupting Anglican clergymen mid-service. A couple of years later, on 18 December, 1654, the “apprentices” of Bristol attacked the Quaker shops on Bristol Bridge. This suggests the development of a Quaker community, and also the development of some animosity towards them!

In 1656, George Fox himself came to Bristol and preached in an upstairs room in Broadmead, outside the old Dominican Friary. In 1667 Fox recorded in his Journal; “Wee came to Bristol and after wee had severall powerfull meetings wee setled the mens monthly meeting there and the womens meetinge ….” 

We see here the foundations of what became a strong and vibrant community. But let’s step back for a moment, and look at the man himself, and see something of the development of Quaker ideology.

George Fox was born in 1624 in the strongly Puritan village a few miles out of Leicester, as the eldest of four children of one Christopher Fox, a successful weaver, who was nicknamed “Righteous Christer” by his neighbours. He was a churchwarden and wealthy enough to leave his son a substantial legacy when he died in the late 1650s. Fox was of a serious disposition from childhood. There is no record of any formal schooling but he learnt to read and write.

“When I came to eleven years of age,” he said, “I knew pureness and righteousness; for, while I was a child, I was taught how to walk to be kept pure. The Lord taught me to be faithful, in all things, and to act faithfully two ways; viz., inwardly to God, and outwardly to man.” “The Lord taught me to be faithful in all things … and to keep to Yea and Nay in all things.”

As he grew up, Fox’s relatives “thought to have made me a priest” but he was instead apprenticed to a local shoemaker and grazier. This suited his contemplative temperament and he became well known for his diligence among the wool traders who had dealings with his master. A constant obsession for Fox was the pursuit of “simplicity” in life – humility and the abandonment of luxury. The time he spent as a shepherd was important to the formation of this view. Much later, he noted the fact that there were many godly leaders who had been shepherds in the Bible, and so a learned education should not be seen as a necessary qualification for ministry.

Fox ‘s views led him to be somewhat critical of the established church. By the age of 19 he was looking down on their behaviour, in particular their consumption of alcohol. At prayer one night after leaving two acquaintances at a drinking session, Fox heard an inner voice saying, “Thou seest how young people go together into vanity, and old people into the earth; thou must forsake all, young and old, keep out of all, and be as a stranger unto all.” 

He hoped to find among the Dissenters a spiritual understanding absent from the established church, but he fell out with one group, for example, because he insisted that women had souls:

“As I had forsaken the priests, [Anglican Church] so I left the separate preachers {Dissenting Church]also, and those esteemed the most experienced people; for I saw there was none among them all that could speak to my condition. And when all my hopes in them and in all men were gone, so that I had nothing outwardly to help me, nor could tell what to do, then, oh, then, I heard a voice which said, “There is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition”; and when I heard it my heart did leap for joy. Then the Lord let me see why there was none upon the earth that could speak to my condition, namely, that I might give Him all the glory; for all are concluded under sin, and shut up in unbelief as I had been, that Jesus Christ might have the pre-eminence who enlightens, and gives grace, and faith, and power. Thus when God doth work, who shall let [prevent] it? And this I knew experimentally.”

Even in this first glimpse we see a certain critical attitude towards other forms of Christianity, and the insistence upon a rather narrow spiritual interiority, connected with a very strong work ethic, a humility of demeanour, a plainness of speech and lifestyle.

Let’s pause and ask the question: how do you think such an ideology would be received in a busy secular community such as 17th Century Bristol?