The Blackmore Country

by F. J. Snell

“You whom God suffered to fall, and yet of His infinite mercy vouchsafed graciously to bring you home, not only to your country and kindred, but to the profession of your first faith, and to the Church and Sacraments again; let me say to you (but in a better hour), as sometime Joshua to Achan: ‘Give glory to God, sing praises to Him who hath delivered your soul from the nethermost hell.’ When I think upon your Turkish attire, I do remember Adam and his fig-leaf breeches; they could neither conceal his shame, nor cover his nakedness. I do think upon David clad in Saul’s armour. How could you hope, in this unsanctified habit, to attain Heaven?”

But it is time that we set out for Dunster, which is as rich in striking memories as the seaport town is poor. The two places, however, are not altogether separable; indeed, it must be evident at a glance that small towns situated at so short a distance from each other—two miles and a half—will have been influenced, though in varying degrees, by the same incidents and accidents, and freaks of fortune. If we go back to the first quarter of the fifteenth century, we find that a “shipman” of Minehead, called Roger King, was employed in conveying provisions from this part of the world to Normandy, where war was then raging; and his return cargo often consisted of wine, which Lady Catherine Luttrell, of Dunster Castle, readily purchased from him. Once Sir Hugh Luttrell embarked on a vessel called the Leonard of Dunster, taking with him five live oxen and two pipes of beer for consumption during the voyage. His expenses, including repairs, amounted to the then considerable sum of £42, 3s. 1d.; but the master, Philip Clopton, having been paid £40, 10s. by certain foreign merchants for a freight of wine on the journey home, the lucky knight had merely to make good the difference—£1, 13s. 1d. In 1427, several Minehead fishermen, tenants of Sir Hugh, adventuring as far as Carlingford, were captured by a Spaniard named Goo, and having been conveyed to Scotland, were confined in Bothwell Castle, whence a special letter, addressed to the King of Scotland in the name of Henry VI., was necessary to procure their release.

In the Middle Ages, Dunster itself was a seaport, and, in the reign of Edward III., writs directed to the bailiffs forbade friars, monks, or treasure to quit the realm by that door. It is to be observed in this connection that the river Avill, before joining the sea, widens out at a place called the “Hone” or the “Hawn”—no doubt the site of the old haven, of which term its present name is a corruption.

To many, Dunster Castle is indissolubly associated with the family of Luttrell, and no wonder, seeing the ages that have elapsed since it was owned by persons of different descent. Its earliest lords, however, were Mohuns—a name which at once awakens recollections of Thackeray and the famous duel between Lord Mohun and the Duke of Hamilton in Hyde Park, in 1712. The first Mohun of Dunster was a gallant leader called William the Old, who attended his namesake, the Conqueror, with a large retinue to the field of Senlac, and received Dunster as a part of that day’s spoil. The family had large possessions in Normandy, and drew their name—De Moion—from a village near St Lo.

The history of the English branch, or rather branches, is by no means devoid of interest. The founder of Newenham Abbey (Devon), for instance, was Reginald de Mohun, who died in 1246. In recognition of his munificence, he received from the Pope the gift of a golden rose, and as such a present was made only to persons of high rank, His Holiness dubbed him Earl of Este (or Somerset). The monkish chronicler reports that Reginald had seen in a vision a venerable man, who bade him make his election between going with him then, in which case he would be safe, or remaining until overtaken by danger. De Mohun at once accepted the former alternative, but the old man would have him stay till the third day, when the confessor saw in another dream the same old man leading a boy “more radiant than the sun, and vested in a robe brighter than crystal,” which boy, he heard him say, was the soul of Reginald de Mohun. The chronicler further states that he was present when Reginald’s tomb was opened nearly a hundred years later, what time the body was perfect, and exhaled a most fragrant odour.

I now pass to the year 1376, when the Lady Joan, relict of Sir John de Mohun, sold the right of succession to the barony for £3333, 6s. 8d. to the Lady Elizabeth Luttrell, the receipt being still in the possession of the present owner, Mr G. F. Luttrell. It is worth remarking that Mr Luttrell is a descendant of the Mohuns of Beconnoc (the junior branch which produced the Lord Mohun before mentioned), through the marriage of his ancestor, John Fownes, with the heiress of Samuel Maddock, her mother having been the daughter and ultimate heiress of the third Lord Mohun of Okehampton.

The Lady Elizabeth Luttrell was the daughter of Hugh Courtenay, Earl of Devon, and Margaret, daughter of Humphry de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex, who was styled “the flower of knighthood, and the most Christian knight of the knights of the world.” Her husband was a less considerable person, being only a cadet of a younger branch of the baronial family of Luttrell of Irnham. Their son was the Sir Hugh Luttrell already referred to, who, in his time, was governor of Harfleur and Grand Seneschal of France—in fact, the right-hand man of Harry the Fifth. He rebuilt Dunster Castle in somewhat the form we find it to-day, and added a new gate-house. The alabaster effigies on the north side of the chancel of the conventual church are those of Sir Hugh and Lady Catherine Luttrell.

There are black sheep in every family, and among the Luttrells one black sheep was pretty clearly James, grandson of great Sir Hugh. The latter had a receiver-general named Thomas Hody, and it was probably his son—one Alisaunder Hody, at any rate—that drew up a complaint against James Luttrell which enables us to see what manner of man he was. First, it seems, Luttrell ascertained from Hody’s unsuspecting wife where her husband was likely to be for the next three days, and then clapped one of his servants into Dunster Castle, where he kept him closely confined for a night, to prevent him from giving information. Luttrell’s next move was to set out with a party of thirty-five followers, with bows bent and arrows in their hands, for the house of Alisaunder’s father-in-law, Thomas Bratton, with the intention of murdering the object of his resentment.

In the course of another expedition, in which he was attended by twenty-four armed retainers, he fell upon John Coker, a servant of Hody, and beat and wounded him so that his life was despaired of. His greatest coup, however, was his attack on Taunton Castle, where he broke open the doors and searched for Alisaunder, confiscated seven silver spoons, five ivory knives, and other goods belonging to him, struck his wife, and threatened to kill her with their daggers. A servant, Walter Peyntois, was stabbed, almost fatally, while “Sir” Robert, Alisaunder’s priest, was assaulted, dragged to the ground by the hair of his head, and beaten by the ruffians with the pommels of their swords.

Whatever his faults, James Luttrell was undoubtedly brave, and, taking part in the strife of the Roses, was knighted on the field after the battle of Wakefield. At the second battle of St Albans he received a mortal wound, and in the first Parliament of Edward IV. his property was forfeited to the Crown. The attainder was reversed on the accession of Henry VII.