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    Somerset Murders

    Somerset Murders

    by John Van der Kiste, Nicola Sly


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    Nicola Sly has a Masters Degree in forensic and legal psychology and currently teaches criminology to adult learners. She is co-author of Devon Murders and Cornish Murders.

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    Somerset Murders


    By Nicola Sly, John Van der Kiste

    The History Press

    Copyright © 2013 Nicola Sly & John Van der Kiste
    All rights reserved.
    ISBN: 978-0-7524-8431-0



    CHAPTER 1

    'GOOD PEOPLE, PRAY FOR ME!'

    Hemington, 1740


    Murders committed by women are comparatively rare, and those perpetrated by a mother and daughter pairing are almost unheard of, yet in 1740, a young servant girl was cruelly beaten to death by her mistress and her mistress's daughter. The mother and daughter killers were Elizabeth and Betty Branch, who lived at Hemington, near Frome in East Somerset. Elizabeth originally came from a well-to-do Bristol family, her father an ex-surgeon, who had become a ship's captain. She had been a singularly bad-tempered, violent child and, throughout her childhood, had been constantly warned by her mother that she would never find a husband if she continued to behave so terribly. However, despite her evil disposition, Elizabeth somehow managed to attract the attentions of a prosperous lawyer, Benjamin Branch.

    They married and, in due course, Elizabeth gave birth to two children, a daughter, Betty, and a son, Parry. Elizabeth ruled the household with a rod of iron and, so brutal and sadistic was her treatment of the servants that it became almost impossible to find anyone willing to work in the Branch home. The gentle Benjamin was appalled and sickened by his wife's cruelty – he died at an early age, sparking rumours among local gossips that his wife had poisoned him.

    While Parry seemed to take after his father in his demeanour, Betty was truly her mother's daughter. Mother and daughter bullied, tormented and physically abused the unfortunate servants who worked for them in their home. Once they beat a servant so severely that he lost control of his bowels, after which he was forced to eat his own excrement. Sadly, their extreme ill-treatment of their staff ultimately resulted in the tragic death of one of them, a homeless orphan named Jane Buttesworth.

    Jane, who was then about 12-years-old, went to work for the Branch family in September 1739, her services having been arranged for the family by John Lawrence of Bristol. She started her new employment at the same time as another girl, Ann Somers and, while Ann was spirited and down-to-earth, more than capable of standing her corner, Jane was an altogether different type of girl. Having been told by Lawrence that she had been irrevocably apprenticed to the family, the meek and mild Jane resigned herself to her fate and tried her hardest to please her difficult employers, but her life was made a misery as, over the next few months, she was repeatedly verbally and physically chastised for making the slightest error. Ann often tried to protect her fellow servant, but was sharply told to mind her own business and threatened with similar punishments.

    Matters came to a head on Tuesday 12 February 1740, when young Jane was sent to the village of Faulkland, half a mile away, on an errand to buy barm (a raising agent containing yeast cells and used for bread making and brewing) from Anthony Budd. She returned without the barm, telling her mistress that there was none for sale, but she had not bargained on William Budd, the son of the merchant, arriving at Highchurch Farm the very next day to help Parry chop wood. Mrs Branch asked William why his father had had no barm on the previous day, to which William replied that there had been plenty of barm but no customers. Jane was summoned to explain herself and swore that she was telling the truth, but Mrs Branch's anger was not to be placated. Ann Somers was promptly dispatched to see Mr Budd in order to determine the truth of the matter.

    Arriving at Budd's house, Ann was met by Mrs Budd who assured her that Jane Buttesworth had not called to buy barm on the previous day. When this information was relayed to Betty Branch, she flew into a rage and began to beat the unfortunate Jane around the head with her fists and pinch her ears. She then ordered the girl into the kitchen, where she met with Elizabeth, who picked up a stout stick from a windowsill. Betty flung Jane to the floor, kneeling on her neck while her mother beat the poor girl until the blood poured through her clothes, deaf to her screams of pain and the frantic protests of Ann Somers. Next, Betty removed one of Jane's shoes and beat the poor girl with the heel until she was 'quite mazed and unable to stand'.

    Finally, Jane managed to free herself as Betty stood up with the intention of delivering a few kicks to the servant girl's prone body. Jane staggered out of the kitchen and into the hall but was soon recaptured and dragged back to the kitchen. There she was ordered to wash away the copious blood with which she was now covered, but almost as soon as she tried to obey, she collapsed in a swoon. An exasperated Mrs Branch ordered her to dust and sweep the parlour and Jane struggled to comply. However, when Ann felt safe enough to go to the parlour to check on her, she found the sobbing girl leaning dazedly on her broom, weak from loss of blood and too dizzy to move.

    Ann ran to tell Mrs Branch that Jane was seriously hurt and needed help, but Elizabeth merely laughed, calling Ann a 'Welsh bitch' and saying that if Jane did not pull herself together and get on with her work she would get another beating. Ann half-carried Jane out into the yard so that she could get a breath of fresh air, but there she met Betty who threw a bucket of icy water over the two servants. Despite Ann's protests that Jane was unable to work, Mrs Branch insisted that work she must, otherwise she would break her neck. By then it was time for Ann to milk the cows, which left Jane alone at the mercy of her malevolent mistresses.

    When Ann returned from milking, she found Jane lying on the floor of the brew house, drifting in and out of consciousness. Ann helped her into a chair, but she was immediately reproached by Betty, who told Jane that if she did not get on with her work, then she would have salt rubbed into her wounds. Jane mumbled, 'I will, Miss,' but, despite her apparent willingness she was physically unable to comply with Betty's demands. At her inaction, Betty promptly carried out her threat, pushing Jane to the floor and rubbing salt into the numerous cuts on the maid's body. Jane continued to mutter, 'I will, Miss,' until eventually she was dragged into the kitchen and dressed in a clean cap, to hide the wounds on her head.

    She was left to lie on the kitchen floor until early evening, when Ann tried to rouse her. Unable to wake her, Ann soon realised that Jane would never wake again and rushed to tell Mrs Branch that she was dead, but Elizabeth denied it, telling Ann to put her to bed so that she could recover. Ann and Jane usually shared a bed in the servants' quarters and, when the day's work was done, Ann was forced to spend an uncomfortable night with a rapidly stiffening corpse as a bedfellow.

    After an (understandably) sleepless night, Ann again went to Mrs Branch. By now, Jane lay cold in her bed, and Elizabeth reluctantly acknowledged that the young girl was dead. Her body lay ignored all day, and on the following morning, William Budd was sent to Frome to procure a shroud and coffin. Ann was forced to attend to the corpse, instructed by Mrs Branch to wash away the dried blood from Jane's body. Mrs Branch took away her blood-soaked clothes and concealed them in the apple store, wrapping the dead girl in the shroud to conceal her terrible injuries.

    Jane's body was buried in the churchyard of Hemington Church on the following Sunday, four days after the fatal beating. However, Mrs Branch aroused suspicion at the burial when she refused to let anyone see the body and repeatedly questioned the sexton, Francis Coombes, about the depth of the grave. As rumours spread throughout the village, two local men decided to dig up the corpse to determine the truth behind Jane's sudden death.

    Under the pretext of wanting to do some bell ringing, Robert Carver and John Marchant obtained a key to the church. On Wednesday 20 February, they exhumed the coffin of Jane Buttesworth and, with several other willing helpers, carried it into the church. Removing the long nails that secured the lid, they asked several of the village women to look at the body. Peeling back the shroud, all were appalled at the extent of Jane's injuries and, locking the church door behind them, the men sought out churchwarden John Craddock and told him what they had found.

    The police were summoned and Jane's body was examined by a surgeon, who determined that she had died from blood loss as a result of her injuries, which included a fractured skull. Barely an inch of her body was not covered with bruises and, in the opinion of the surgeon, she had been 'so barbarously and inhumanely used that it was enough to kill the stoutest man'. The Branch family, Ann Somers and John Lawrence, were immediately arrested on suspicion of her murder and detained at the nearby Faulkland Inn. A search of the Branch's home revealed the bloody sticks used to beat Jane to death.

    At the coroner's inquest, held on 22 and 23 February, Ann Somers made a statement giving her account of the events leading up to Jane's death. Her statement was supported by that of William Budd and as a result, Elizabeth and Betty Branch were committed to trial for the murder of their young employee. Proceedings opened at the Somerset Assizes on 31 March 1740. Elizabeth Branch, a woman of considerable means following the death of her husband, employed no less than eight lawyers to defend her, but her only real defence was her claim that all the prosecution witnesses were liars who had falsely accused her of murder in order to obtain money from her. When that argument failed to impress the judge, it was then alleged that Jane suffered from fits and had sustained her injuries falling down with a pail of water. It was next suggested that Ann Somers was responsible for causing Jane's wounds or that the injuries had been made when the body was exhumed.

    After six hours of listening to the evidence, the trial jurors came to their decision within minutes, without finding it necessary to withdraw from the court to deliberate. A verdict of guilty was passed on both Elizabeth and Betty Branch, at which Betty collapsed, remaining unconscious for some forty-five minutes. When warders tried to revive her with a drink, they were chided by her mother who cried out that it would be better to let her die there than live to be hanged.

    The women received the obligatory death sentence and were promptly dispatched to Ilchester Gaol to await their execution, set for 3 May. Although Elizabeth petitioned for a reprieve as a matter of course, she showed little interest in the proceedings, seeming more concerned with discovering the facts about hanging and the positioning of the noose. Betty at least appeared to show some remorse and, on occasions, was permitted to leave the gaol in the company of a warder who took her to his house in nearby Limington. She expressed a desire to be buried in the pretty little churchyard at Limington after her execution, but her wish was eventually denied.

    Once all hope of a reprieve was lost, Elizabeth Branch requested that the execution should take place in the early morning, in the hope that the early hour would deter the arrival of many spectators. However, when the execution party arrived at the site, it was to discover that part of the gallows had been destroyed. Anxious to get the hanging over as soon as possible, Elizabeth suggested that a nearby tree could be used, but the gibbet was quickly repaired and, having learned the mechanics of hanging while incarcerated, Elizabeth herself fitted the noose around her daughter's neck.

    Elizabeth Branch's address to the few spectators who had braved the early morning was a mixture of remorse and excuses for her crime. She admitted to striking her maid, but argued that since this was not done with the intention of killing her, then the sentence passed upon her was unjust. Her biggest regret seemed to be that her behaviour had rubbed off on Betty, bringing her to the gallows to face the same punishment. Betty also made a speech in which she rued being trained while young to follow the paths of cruelty and barbarity. She asked that her unhappy end act as a warning to others to avoid like crimes and entreated the small crowd; 'Good people, pray for me!'

    The bodies of Elizabeth and Betty Branch were interred in Ilchester churchyard. Tragically, it came to light only after her murder that the unfortunate Jane Buttesworth had indeed fulfilled her final errand and had called at the Budd's premises to buy barm, as requested. Although Margaret Budd had initially insisted that Jane had not called, it emerged that the girl had been sent on her errand without any money and had been refused credit by Mrs Budd. It speaks volumes of Elizabeth Branch's legendary temper that Jane felt unable to mention this fact as she was being viciously beaten to death for her failings, and that Margaret Budd had been so afraid of the consequences of denying the girl credit that she had told a lie which ultimately led to the horrific death of an innocent child.

    CHAPTER 2

    'I HOPE GOD AND THE WORLD HAVE FORGIVEN ME'

    Over Stowey, 1789


    In the Quantock hills, high above the village of Over Stowey, threre is a well-known and popular beauty spot. However, its sinister name suggests anything but beauty. Since a shocking event that occurred there over two centuries ago, it has always been known as 'Dead Woman's Ditch'.

    In 1765, John Walford was born at Over Stowey, the son of a collier (as the makers of charcoal from wood were then known). He grew up to be a good-looking, popular, even-tempered young man, and followed his father into the charcoal business, sometimes supplementing his income by working as a casual farm labourer in the summer. When he fell in love, the object of his affections could be said to have been a cut above the illiterate but hardworking manual worker. Ann Rice, who came from the neighbouring village of Nether Stowey, was the youngest of four daughters of a prosperous miller and his wife. She and John were very much in love and there was an understanding between them that one day they would be married.

    The trade of charcoal maker was a lonely one, with little free time for courting. John spent most of the week living in the woods, in a makeshift shelter that he had constructed from poles and turf, rarely coming into contact with other people. He cut and collected timber, then closely supervised it as it burned in a turf-covered pit. The pit remained alight for four or five days, during which time it needed tending every couple of hours, and when he could snatch a little sleep, John simply curled up fully clothed on a bed of straw in his hut. His only food during the week was bread and cheese, his only drink, water from the streams. Every Monday he would carry a half-peck loaf weighing almost 9lbs and 2lbs of cheese into the forest for sustenance. He returned home every Saturday night to eat a hot meal, drink with his friends and catch up with some much needed sleep, before attending church on Sundays.

    Into John's isolated life came Jane Shorney, the daughter of another charcoal burner. She was described as 'a poor stupid creature, almost an idiot; yet possessing a little kind of craftiness ... an ordinary squat person, disgustingly dirty, and slovenly in her dress.' Jane set her cap at John and took to deliberately seeking him out in the woods while she was supposed to be gathering wood for the fire. For a lonely and virile young man, totally devoid of female company, the outcome of her visits was almost inevitable. She gave birth to a son in 1785 and named John as the baby's father. John was soon taken into custody by the parish officers and given an ultimatum; he must either marry Jane or pay for the child's support. His mother, Ann, stepped in and offered to help, thus effectively letting John off the hook. In the following year Jane gave birth to a daughter, allegedly fathered by John's brother, William.


    (Continues...)

    Excerpted from Somerset Murders by Nicola Sly, John Van der Kiste. Copyright © 2013 Nicola Sly & John Van der Kiste. Excerpted by permission of The History Press.
    All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
    Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

    Table of Contents

    Contents

    Authors' Note & Acknowledgements,
    1. 'Good people, pray for me!' Hemington, 1740,
    2. 'I hope God and the world have forgiven me' Over Stowey, 1789,
    3. 'I am entirely innocent' Buckland St Mary, 1823,
    4. 'There are thieves in the house!' Bath, 1828,
    5. 'Not a fortnight longer! Mark my words' Withypool, 1829,
    6. 'Here's a pretty bitch coming down the lane' Chard, 1829,
    7. 'Neither a murder nor a mystery' Over Stratton, 1830,
    8. 'I can't bear to see it!' Sandpit Hill, near Langport, 1835,
    9. Bare-Knuckle Fight at the Running Horse Yeovil, 1843,
    10. 'What Martha's already said goes for nothing' Crewkerne, 1843,
    11. 'It's no use, I've done it' Weston-super-Mare, 1844,
    12. 'Ask her first if she believes in God?' Bath, 1851,
    13. 'I did it for love' Frome, 1851,
    14. 'We'll find the body yet' Simonsbath, 1858,
    15. 'Nothing has ever been administered to her in her food' Yeovil, 1860,
    16. 'No one knew of my intention' Rode, 1860,
    17. 'Spare my wife' Dundry, 1861,
    18. A Policeman's Lot Yeovil, 1862,
    19. 'Goodnight' Ridgehill, 1883,
    20. 'Yes, I done it!' Henstridge, 1883,
    21. 'You ought to be hanged' Yeobridge, 1889,
    22. 'You will have me here for something more serious than this' North Petherton, 1913,
    23. 'What's the use of bamboozling about it?' Porlock, 1914,
    24. 'Go on, put down what you like' West Hatch, 1933,
    25. 'I shall be glad when the old bastard is out of the way' Bath, 1933,
    26. 'Stop worrying. It is all right' Milborne Port, 1943,
    27. 'Thank you' Middlezoy, 1947,
    28. 'One of the most terrible cases of murder I have known' Wembdon, Bridgwater, 1950,
    29. 'That is a frame-up, that is' Bath, 1951/2,
    30. 'The strife is o'er, the battle won' Loxton, 1954,
    Bibliography & References,

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    Somerset Murders brings together numerous murderous tales that shocked not only the county but also made headlines throughout the country. They include the cases of Elizabeth and Betty Branch, a mother and daughter who beat a young servant girl to death in Hemington in 1740; 13-year-old Betty Trump, whose throat was cut while walking home at Buckland St Mary in 1823; factory worker Joan Turner, battered to death in Chard in 1829; George Watkins, killed in a bare knuckle fight outside the Running Horse pub in Yeovil in 1843; Mary Fisher, stabbed to death by her husband in Weston-super-Mare in 1844; and elderly landlady, Mrs Emily Bowers, strangled in her bed in Middlezoy in 1947. This carefully researched, well-illustrated and enthralling text will appeal to anyone interested in the shady side of Somerset’s history.

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