Unsung Women in Somerset

A–Z Index of Somerset Place Names

Abbas Combe: Appendices (Named After Her)

Alford: Appendices (Named After Her)

Aller: Chapter 6

Athelney: Chapter 6

Aveline’s Hole: Prologue

Avon River: Appendices (Named After Her)

Axbridge: Chapter 5 (Notes), Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 16

Baltonsborough: Chapter 5 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 7

Banwell: Chapter 16

Barrow Gurney: Chapter 21

Bath: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 5 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 7 (Notes), Chapter 8, Interlude, Chapter 15, Chapter 16 (Notes & Quick Tribute), Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 23

Batheaston: Chapter 1, Interlude, Chapter 16 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute), Appendices (Named After Her)

Beckery: Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Appendices (Named After Her)

Beckington: Chapter 9 (Notes)

Binegar: Appendices (Named After Her)

Bishop’s Hull: Chapter 19 (Quick Tributes)

Blagdon: Chapter 16

Bleadney: Chapter 5

Bleadon: Chapter 6

Brent Knoll: Chapter 5

Bridgwater: Chapter 14, Chapter 15 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 16 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 17 (Notes), Chapter 19, Chapter 23 (Quick Tributes)

Brompton Regis: Chapter 5 (Notes), Interlude

Bruton: Chapter 5, Chapter 10

Buckland St Mary: Appendices (Named After Her)

Butcombe: Chapter 8, Interlude, Appendices (Named After Her)

Cannington: Chapter 4 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 11

Carhampton: Chapter 10

Castle Cary: Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute)

Chard: Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute)

Charlcombe: Chapter 16 (Quick Tribute)

Charlton Horethorne: Chapter 8 (Notes)

Cheddar: Prologue, Chapter 6 (Notes), Chapter 8, Chapter 12, Chapter 16

Chedzoy: Chapter 9 (Notes)

Chew Valley: Chapter 3 (Quick Tribute), Appendices (Named After Her)

Chewton Keynsham: Appendices (Named After Her)

Chewton Mendip: Interlude

Chilcompton: Chapter 22 (Quick Tribute)

Chinnock: Chapter 8 (Notes)

Churchill: Chapter 16

Claverham: Interlude, Chapter 12

Claverton: Chapter 8, Interlude

Clevedon: Chapter 11, Chapter 23

Congresbury: Chapter 16

Coxley: Interlude, Appendices (Named After Her)

Creech St Michael: Interlude

Crewkerne: Interlude

Croscombe: Chapter 14 (Notes)

Culbone: Chapter 17 (Quick Tribute)

Curry Mallet: Chapter 11

Cutcombe: Chapter 10

Donyatt: Chapter 10, Appendices (Named After Her)

Doulting: Chapter 5

Dunster: Chapter 10, Chapter 13

Durleigh: Chapter 9 (Quick Tribute)

East Coker: Interlude

East Cranmore: Chapter 21

East Dundry: Chapter 23 (Quick Tribute)

East Lyng: Chapter 6

East Quantoxhead: Chapter 17

Ebbor Gorge: Appendices (Named After Her)

Edington: Appendices (Named After Her)

Edithmead: Appendices (Named After Her)

Egford: Chapter 23 (Quick Tributes)

Enmore: Chapter 11

Evercreech: Chapter 10, Chapter 21

Farleigh Hungerford: Appendices (Recommended Reading)

Freshford: Chapter 8, Interlude

Frome: Chapter 5, Chapter 8 (Notes), Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 16 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 19 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 23 (Quick Tributes)

Glastonbury: Chapter 2 (Notes), Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 12 (Notes), Chapter 13 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute) Chapter 16

Goathurst: Chapter 15 (Quick Tributes)

Godney: Prologue (Notes), Chapter 5, Appendices (Named After Her)

Halse: Chapter 12 (Quick Tribute)

Hardington Mandeville: Interlude

Holford: Chapter 17 (Notes)

Holnicote: Chapter 22

Holton: Chapter 8, Interlude

Huish Episcopi: Chapter 5

Huntspill: Chapter 16 (Quick Tribute)

Ilchester: Chapter 9 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 16 (Quick Tributes)

Ilminster: Chapter 5, Chapter 13 (Quick Tributes)

Ilton: Chapter 13 (Notes and Quick Tributes)

Kenn: Chapter 12

Kewstoke: Chapter 3 (Quick Tribute), Appendices (Named After Her)

Keynsham: Chapter 3, Interlude, Chapter 9 (Quick Tribute), Appendices (Named After Her)

Kilmersdon: Chapter 9 (Notes)

Kilton: Chapter 10, Chapter 17

Kingston St Mary: Appendices (Named After Her)

Langport: Chapter 10, Chapter 14

Leigh-on-Mendip: Chapter 8

Long Ashton: Chapter 21

Lottisham: Chapter 5 (Quick Tribute)

Lower Durston: Chapter 9

Lydford-on-Fosse: Chapter 5 (Quick Tribute)

Marchey: Chapter 5 (Notes)

Martock: Interlude

Meare: Prologue (Notes), Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Middlezoy: Chapter 5

Midsomer Norton: Chapter 15 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 18 (Quick Tribute) Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute)

Milborne Port: Chapter 16 (Quick Tribute)

Minehead: Chapter 10

Muchelney: Chapter 5

Nailsea: Chapter 16

Nettlecombe: Chapter 12 (Quick Tribute)

North Curry: Chapter 22

North Petherton: Chapter 6 (Notes), Chapter 9 (Notes)

North Stoke: Interlude

Nyland: Chapter 5

Oakhill: Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute)

Pennard (unclear whether East or West): Chapter 5 (Notes)

Pill: Chapter 19 (Quick Tributes)

Pilton: Chapter 5

Porlock Weir: Chapter 17 (Quick Tribute)

Priddy: Chapter 5

Queen Camel: Interlude, Chapter 9 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 14 (Notes), Appendices (Named After Her)

Queen Charlton: Chapter 16 (Quick Tributes), Appendices (Named After Her)

Rowberrow: Chapter 16

Sampford Brett: Chapter 13 (Notes)

Sandford: Chapter 16

Seavington St Mary: Appendices (Named After Her)

Shapwick: Prologue (Notes), Chapter 5

Shepton Beauchamp: Chapter 9 (Quick Tribute)

Shepton Mallet: Chapter 11, Chapter 14 (main part & Quick Tribute), Chapter 20 (Notes), Chapter 21

Shipham: Chapter 16

Somerton: Chapter 5 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 9 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 10

South Brewham: Chapter 6 (Notes)

South Cadbury: Chapter 4

South Petherton: Chapter 5 (N

St Catherine: Appendices (Named After Her)

Stanton Drew: Prologue, Interlude

Stogumber: Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute)

Stoke St Mary: Appendices (Named After Her)

Ston Easton: Interlude

Street: Chapter 5 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 19, Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute), Appendices (Named After Her)

Taunton: Chapter 5, Chapter 9 (Notes) Chapter 12 (Notes), Chapter 14 (main part & Quick Tribute), Chapter 15 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 16 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute), Chapter 22

Temple Cloud: Appendices (Named After Her)

Thorne St Margaret: Appendices (Named After Her)

Timsbury: Chapter 18 (Quick Tribute)

Tintinhull: Chapter 12 (Quick Tribute)

Trull: Chapter 12 (Quick Tribute)

Uphill: Chapter 21

Watchet: Chapter 8, Chapter 13, Chapter 23

Wedmore: Chapter 6, Interlude, Chapter 16

Wellington: Chapter 20 (Quick Tribute)

Wells: Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7 (Notes), Interlude, Chapter 12, Chapter 14 (main part & Quick Tribute), Chapter 16, Chapter 21

Welton: Chapter 15 (Quick Tributes)

West Camel: Chapter 14 (Notes)

West Coker: Interlude

West Quantoxhead: Chapter 11, Chapter 17 (Notes), Appendices (Named After Her)

Westbury-sub-Mendip: Prologue

Weston-super-Mare: Chapter 2 (Notes), Chapter 19, Chapter 20 (Quick Tributes), Chapter 21, Chapter 23

Westonzoyland: Chapter 5 (Notes), Chapter 14

Whatley: Chapter 23 (Quick Tributes)

Wincanton: Chapter 21

Winford: Chapter 8, Interlude

Winscombe: Chapter 16, Chapter 19 (Quick Tributes)

Wiveliscombe: Chapter 10, Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute)

Wookey Hole: Chapter 14 (Quick Tribute)

Wrington: Chapter 16

Yatton: Chapter 12, Chapter 16

Yeovil: Chapter 20

PREHISTORIC TIMES

Prologue: Ancient Female Footsteps

What female feet passed this way

And from female mouths, what sounds?

What women lived and breathed and loved

Upon these ancient grounds?

What names were uttered as they laid to rest

Their sisters in age-old burial mounds?

And was Aveline’s Hole where you interred your friends,

So their spirits would live on safe and warm?

And did you travel on to Cheddar Gorge

To paint limestone walls with shapes and forms?

Did you crouch in the damp to eat berries and nuts

All huddled by the fire, resting from a storm?

Ancestor of mine, weary traveller,

What led your leather-clad feet to this place?

Was it to worship shadowy deities

At Stanton Drew stones, this mystical space,

And watch open-eyed as the hunters sacrificed beasts 

To satisfy the spirits and earn their grace?

What are the names of those who built

The wooden tracks to connect the islands

And platforms among marshes as lake villages?

Your logs unearthed but names time has silenced.

How harsh your short life must’ve been,

How tiring, hungry, fearful and cold.

The threat of bears and endless toils

Your shivering bones unlikely to grow old.

Childbirth risky, babies weak and frail,

Infancy a trail of tears to behold.

What female feet passed this way

What hands touched these boulders?

Blue-eyed, brown-skinned beauty, did you

Lean against them with your shoulders

And wonder as you gazed into the starry night’s glow

What women came before you and who will follow?

Notes

Flints found in Westbury-sub-Mendip are the earliest evidence of humans in Somerset. They date back 480,000 years and would’ve been used by early species of humans. At that time, England was joined to mainland Europe because the sea levels were lower than they are now.

It seems the whole of Britain was abandoned from around 180,000 to 60,00 years ago because no human bones or tools have been found for this time period. The reasons were probably that it was too cold for a time and then sea levels rose, cutting England off from mainland Europe. Our species, Homo sapiens, arrived in England 40,000 years ago but left again 25,000 years ago as the Ice Age swept across the land. About 15,000 years ago, the country’s conditions allowed humans to return for visits.

This poem is a sweeping look at prehistoric women across several millennia.

Looking at the poem chronologically, the cave painting in Cheddar Gorge refers to the one of a mammoth found in Cheddar, which dates back to 11,000 BC. Back then, England was inhabited sporadically only, with continuous habitation beginning in 10,000 BC because the Ice Age was coming to an end, which in turn meant better weather and landscape conditions.

Aveline’s Hole at Burrington Combe is Britain’s earliest scientifically dated cemetery. The bones, representing at least 21 people, date back to around 8,300 BC. The artefacts found there include red deer teeth. Scientists have confirmed that those buried in the cave had lived nearby because of the levels of the element strontium found both in the bones and the local area. The remains also revealed that the individuals were often malnourished.

(Looking down into Aveline’s Hole)

The blue-eyed, brown-skinned beauty makes reference to the fact that Cheddar Man, the oldest complete skeleton ever discovered in Britain, has been identified with those characteristics. The man died in his twenties around 8000 BC and his features were the standard for those living in our country at that time, who had come from Africa via the Middle East over many generations. Other people with paler skin probably came to these shores (also via the Middle East) in approximately 4000 BC and they started to farm the land. It’s currently thought that Cheddar Man and his peers were mainly replaced by the second influx. All the same, DNA tests have shown that the average present-day British person shares about 10% of their genetic ancestry with Cheddar Man and his group of ancient hunter-gatherers.

Wooden trackways were built in prehistoric times when there was a system of islands in salty marshlands in parts of the county. These islands were popular places to live due to the fish and aquatic birds the inhabitants could hunt in the waters. The wet landscape preserved many of these tracks. One example is the Sweet Track, over a mile long, which connected the Meare-Westhay island to the Polden Hills ridge peninsula, i.e. the mainland. The walkway consisted of logs placed in a series of x’s along the route with planks of wood laid on top of them and fastened into place with pegs. Tree-ring dating shows that it was constructed in the spring of 3806 BC and was used and repaired for the next 9­–12 years. It replaced an even earlier walkway called the Post Track, made in 3838 BC, the oldest known trackway in the UK.

Along the sides of the Sweet Track, many offerings were left, such as combs, yew pins, axes and fine ceramic bowls, and these are thought to have been gifts to the gods and goddesses of the wetlands. One axe is jadeite and was made in the northern Italian Alps. It passed through many hands over 500 years before reaching Somerset, where it was finally laid beside the track, having never been used. Therefore, it was a sacred object and the track is the earliest known structure with a religious function in the UK. This was a time when people were settling and farming the land, clearing the primary forest in order to do so. Fats extracted from those bowls came from cows, making this the earliest known example of dairy farming in the country. Beside another Meare-Westhay island track, the wooden God dolly was unearthed, which is the earliest known human figurine in the UK.

(Reconstruction of the Sweet Track at Shapwick Nature Reserve)

Stanton Drew, where ‘stanton’ means stone enclosure, is the third-largest complex of prehistoric standing stones in England. It was put together around 2500 BC as a religious site. The three stone circles there have never been excavated. As a result, little is known about how or why they were constructed.

As for the lake villages, one such settlement in Somerset is the best-preserved Iron Age settlement in the country. That’s because on top of the boggy marshes, these villagers created platforms of peat and clay and then constructed houses that rested on the platforms. The buildings’ foundations sank into the peat, which preserved them along with the remains of plants and bones. The bones show that the villagers were eating all sorts of animals, for instance eels, trout, frogs, otters, beavers, pelicans, cranes, swans, sheep, pigs and dogs. Also preserved were all kinds of objects– pots, saws, a chopping board, baskets, brooches, spindle whorls, glass beads and so on. Even a ladder was found, the only prehistoric one found in Britain and one of just 3 in all of Europe. Known as Glastonbury Lake Village, the settlement was actually closer to Godney and was inhabited from c.250 to 50 BC. For more on this, I invite you to visit the Avalon Marshes Centre and/or its website.

The Iron Age is the setting for the following pages of this book, its first full-length chapter, where we’ll meet a goddess.

Prologue Bibliography

Cheddar Man: Mesolithic Britain’s blue-eyed boy by Kerry Lotzof

Palaeolithic and Mesolithic Somerset by Robert Hosfield, Vanessa Straker and Paula Gardiner

www.english-heritage.co.uk

www.bbc.co.uk

The Lost Islands of Somerset by Richard Brunning

Avalon Marshes Archaeology by Richard Brunning

Avalon Marshes website

Chapter 1: The Prince of Pigs and the Goddess (Iron Age)

To look at him, nobody would’ve thought him a prince. Standing in the king’s hall, desperately thin under his dirty rags, he looked like a pauper. But the queen knew this man to be her son who had returned to her at last, thanks to her own cunning.

This unusual sight of a filthy prince was due to a tragic chain of events that had been initiated many years ago when the prince, named Bladud, had lived a life of luxury and ease, a life of golden cups, jewels, feasts, hunts and games. Back when he was handsome and well-groomed.

This story took place many centuries before Christ walked the Earth. At that time, King Lud was one of many kings of the early Britons and when his wife, the queen, gave birth to a little boy, the kingdom was overjoyed. Naming him Bladud, they had feasts aplenty to celebrate his birth.

The baby grew into a boy who could outwit the servants and charm them into submission with his handsome smile. He took long walks with his father in which they conversed at length about trade, diplomacy, governance and battle strategies.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Bladud became a young man. His future looked as bright as the twinkling stars in the night sky. One day, he would sit on his father’s throne and rule the kingdom with a powerful queen by his side.

However, fortune handed him a devastating blow. Though he tried to convince himself that his body was healthy, soon he could no longer ignore the white blemishes forming on his hands and feet. It was a sure sign of leprosy.

King Lud knew that a hard decision had to be made. He took his wife aside and whispered in his Celtic tongue, Undoubtedly, you’ve noticed Bladud’s skin. If we do nothing, it could spread to the slaves, the servants, the nobles of the court, to us, even to our other children.

Holding back tears, the queen answered, Yes, he is certainly afflicted with that dreaded disease. I prayed to the gracious god Nodens to heal him. But it seems Bladud is fated to suffer this disease.

I didn’t want to worry you, but not only have I prayed I’ve also had animals sacrificed to try and get the gods’ attention. But it has all been futile. There’s nothing for it. There’s nothing for it. We must ba–

Don’t say it. Please. At least, give me a day and a night to think of a plan. She bit her lip and fidgeted with the exquisitely engraved gold ring on her left hand that had been made for her upon her marriage to the king. This was a souvenir from the blissful days of her youth, a bliss that was now withering away just as Bladud’s body was wasting away.

Very well, the king replied and left her to her thoughts. He fervently hoped she could come up with some scheme that would mean they didn’t have to banish their beloved son.

The following day, he asked his wife if she had reached a solution, yet all she said was, If you bring Bladud before us, I will explain. Do what you must and then I will soften the blow.

Despite the aching in his soul, the king clapped his hands and servants rushed off to fetch the prince, who arrived limping along with a cane. The hands clutching the cane were withdrawn into his sleeves and his face lay hidden under a large cloak.

Tenderly, the king relayed to his son that he had no other choice but to exile him from court in order to keep everyone safe, explaining how they had prayed and sacrificed to the gods to no avail.

Father, I– I understand, stammered Bladud. He opened his mouth to say more but the words caught in his throat and being so overcome with emotion, he was unable to utter another word.

We will not lose hope, the queen announced, staring directly into the eyes of her son, surrounded as they were by white marks. We will continue to pray for healing, for a miracle. And you will always be a prince of this realm, no matter where you go. If you ever need to prove to anyone whose son you are, you can show them this ring. With that, she eased her opulent wedding ring off her finger.

She gently moved forward, dropped the ring on the floor and stepped back again, her lip trembling at the thought of being unable to touch her own child. Bladud stepped forwards and reached out a hand for the ring. The queen and king flinched to see how gnarled his fingers had already become. They shared with him a look of love that would have to last for years, perhaps a whole lifetime. The queen couldn’t help but think how this child that had grown inside her and been nurtured by her from cradle to manhood and was now leaving her with no way of keeping in touch and no way of knowing whether their paths would ever cross again.

His wife’s astute provision struck a chord with the king. He wiped a tear from his eye and handed his son a bell to wear around his neck so as to signal his arrival to anyone on the road, that they might hide away from this diseased outcast. It was a symbol of how Bladud would from now on live a life of lonely solitude.

They watched their son amble gingerly away, leaning heavily on his stick as if every step was excruciating.

What will become of him? asked the queen in a voice cracking with heartache.

Who can say? King Lud whispered back.

BLADUD WINCED WITH the effort of easing himself down gently to sit beneath the oak tree. A groan of relief escaped from his mouth the moment his ulcerated feet got a chance to rest. Trying desperately to push away thoughts of the roasted mutton and beef he had eaten at home washed down with huge goblets of ale, Bladud rummaged in his bag to see what meagre supplies he had left. Just a handful of hazelnuts and blackberries as it turned out. Living in the wilderness was a colossal challenge for someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Over the past few weeks, he’d had to learn the hard way which berries and mushrooms would make him double over in pain and which would strengthen him.

He shivered in the midday breeze. He had yet to face a winter outdoors and dreaded it. The autumnal chill was bad enough for him. Pulling his chequered blanket tightly around his aching limbs, he wondered how much longer he could go on before he was forced to sell it for food. It was all he had left after selling his intricate gold brooches and neck ring that resembled two golden ropes entwined together. The ring was a symbol of nobility but what good was a symbol when he had none of the privileges of nobility? Yes, the blanket was all that was left, except for his mother’s ring and he would never sell that.

Therefore, another solution had to be reached. With a sigh, he acknowledged to himself for the hundredth time that he simply couldn’t go on as he was. He had to do something about his predicament or admit defeat and wait for death. But what could he do? That was the question. He murmured to the air, Please, gods, help me.

Gazing up at the sky, he began to see what images the clouds would make. It was one of the few pleasures in life still available to him. It wasn’t as fun as flirting with young maidens or stalking deer atop his favourite horse but for now, it would have to do. Face, tree, rabbit, pig, he muttered to himself. Pig! That’s it! I can become a swineherd. The farmer would give me food and let me forage on his land in exchange for caring for his herd.

With a half-smile, he began to pop the nuts one by one into his mouth.

BLADUD SAT DOWN HEAVILY against the elm tree. He pushed away a greedy pink snout. You pigs aren’t going to let me eat in peace, eh? he grumbled. But really, he appreciated the company. It was the only company he could get these days.

It was his first day out with the animals. The owner of the pigs had been loath to go anywhere near Bladud, but the prince showed him his mother’s ring and declared, The gods and goddesses will reward you for helping a prince. This had made the owner sigh. Prince or not, the lad was clearly down on his luck. So, the owner reluctantly agreed, provided that Bladud didn’t come anywhere near his house. The owner said he would leave Bladud food on a tree stump each day and scurry away before the prince approached to collect the nourishment.

Bladud’s lunch consisted of a large mug of milk, a bowl of berries and some bread. Don’t expect this every day, the owner had said gruffly. But you’re all skin and bones. You won’t last a week as you are.

Gratefully, Bladud hadn’t tried to contest this. There was no use trying to charm the surly owner into regularly delivering substantial food. Bladud was a nobody now, bottom of the pile. He had to accept whatever morsel of kindness he could get.

He drank the milk greedily, remembering the fine herd of cows his parents owned. The bread was a tad stale and the berries sour, but he barely noticed, given how hungry he was.

This new life was not ideal by any means, but at least he would not starve and at least he had someone to talk to, even if they were just silly old pigs. From absolute rock-bottom, he had picked himself up and created some sort of life for himself and that gave him the tiniest amount of hope.

A few weeks later, however, the exiled prince’s hope began to fade. He could no longer deny the fact that two of the pigs were developing dry, cracked skin– tell-tale signs of leprosy. A number of the others had small patches of broken skin, as well. Bladud had infected these innocent animals. He had thought it was impossible for a human to pass the disease onto a pig. The pigs’ owner had said the same.

The owner! By the gods, he will be furious, Bladud whispered to himself.

There was nothing for it. He would have to leave, taking the pigs with him to stop the infection from spreading to anyone else. But Bladud feared telling the owner what had happened and having to face his wrath. Bladud had cost him his livelihood.

So early one morning, under the cover of darkness, they set off, heading west because eastwards lay his parents’ kingdom and he couldn’t return there.

Days and days went by. It was slow work encouraging ailing animals to keep moving on. But somehow, they managed it and Bladud went back to foraging for food in lonely forests.

More days went by, all the same as the last, with the exception of the one in which they had to cross over the mighty River Avon at a place now aptly named Swineford. That was an extraordinarily arduous day of traipsing around. Bladud’s life was harder than ever. The disease was only getting worse in his body and now he had to watch the friendly pigs grow weak as well. Then, one day at the crack of dawn, the pigs came across a muddy thermal spring and that was when the prince’s fortunes changed entirely.

The frosty dawn had chilled everyone to the bone, so it was no wonder that the pigs, upon discovering a bubbling brown spring, dragged themselves eagerly over to it. Bladud was equally excited. The creatures eased their aching bodies into the warm murky water, rolled around with snorts of delight and gulped greedily at the water to quench the unsatisfiable thirst that leprosy had given them. They were as happy as... well, pigs in mud. Meanwhile, Bladud sat beneath a hazel tree and slowly began to take his sandals off so that he could dip his crooked feet in the welcoming water.

In the process, he noticed how one of the pigs seemed to have clearer skin than before. He shook his head and muttered to himself, You’re seeing things now, little prince. You’re going mad. And yet, even as he said these words, another of the pigs appeared to no longer have cracked and blotchy skin. Bladud froze. By the gods, could it be? he murmured. Are these the waters I heard of during my childhood? The waters that belong to the goddess Sulis and give healing to princes and paupers alike?

He edged towards the filthy spring water and dipped one foot in. Within moments, the crooked bones on his foot had realigned themselves and all the blemishes had vanished. In went the other foot. The same thing happened.

Amazed, Bladud bowed his head and said, Goddess Sulis, if these waters are indeed yours, take pity on this poor prince. I have suffered for so long with this infliction. Be kind to me the same way you have to these boars.

Taking a deep breath, he began to strip naked to see if his prayer had been heeded. He walked steadily into the spring and knelt down beside the pigs.

Sulis! Great Mother! he exclaimed when he saw his hands transform before his very eyes. Plunged beneath the glimmering surface of the water, the missing fingers grew back, the wrinkles disappeared and soon they looked as smooth as a child’s. Bladud was overcome with emotion. Wiping a tear from his eye, he thanked Sulis over and over again for the miracle.

Just before dusk, or dimpsey for Somerset folk, Bladud fell asleep and dreamt a thousand dreams– that he still had leprosy, that he was a child sitting on his mother’s lap, that his pigs were sitting around him in a circle clapping their trotters together. And when he awoke, he was afraid to open his eyes in case the wonders of the previous day had been another one of the myriad dreams he’d experienced. He cautiously began to wiggle his fingers and touch his left hand with his right one. Everything seemed intact. Steeling himself, he opened one eye and saw beautifully soft hands. He breathed a huge sigh of relief and sat up with a smile.

Well, piggies, Sulis has certainly been generous to us. And I don’t mean to squander this gift. It’s time to get you back to where you belong and me to where I belong.

THE OWNER HAD BEEN livid with Bladud. When he caught sight of the young man running out along the dusty path, he boxed Bladud about the ears for kidnapping (or pignapping!) his animals. Bladud desperately exclaimed that he was a prince and would make sure the owner was rewarded for his kindness, which had stopped the man in his tracks but only so that he could laugh in Bladud’s face. That had given the prince enough time to produce the ring his mother had entrusted to him. The pig farmer rolled his eyes at this old yarn the boy had spun before. Nonetheless, he let Bladud go. I might as well believe you. The gods know I could do with a reward! he shrugged and turned his head to spit out the rest of his anger.

Bladud smiled at this memory during his easy stroll along the path, running his fingers through his shoulder-length hair and braiding some of it in the Celtic style. If he was to reclaim his place, he needed to make a bit of an effort with his hair at least since his clothing wasn’t as easily rectified. The pig farmer hadn’t believed him enough to lend him any clothes and he had barely a finely woven garment himself anyway.

When his father’s royal house came into sight, that was the issue gnawing at the back of Bladud’s mind: how to actually reach his parents given that no servants would allow a dirty, ragged man into the king and queen’s presence and if he showed the ring, there was a chance they would have him killed for a thief. He needed to find a servant who’d been in attendance on the day his mother had gifted it to him.

As if the deities could hear his thoughts, just such a servant was now approaching him. Steadying himself, Bladud called out to the woman, Excuse me!

She gave him a pitying look and walked on.

He tried again. Branwen, it’s me, Bladud. The goddess Sulis cured me and I have the ring to prove it!

At that, she turned back.

Bl- Bladud? In truth? Let me see the ring.

When he handed it to her, she examined it carefully and studied his face to see if it matched her memory of the young prince before the curse had fallen on him.

Branwen, you’re to take this band and drop it in my mother’s cup this night. Once she sees it, she will know. I’ll be waiting beside the south gate for when they come to fetch me.

The servant nodded and hurried away to do as her young master had bid her and just as Bladud predicted, in no time at all, a small group of retainers burst out of the royal household’s barn and dashed over to him at the south gate.

Bladud! Your mother has seen the ring. She demanded to know how it’d got there, one began excitedly.

And then Branwen began to explain– a second continued.

So we offered to bring you to the king as soon as possible.

He was led along familiar corridors to the monarch’s presence chamber. After Bladud had revealed his blemish-free skin and perfectly formed hands, the king laughed with joy and bellowed, Bathe him at once and give him something decent to eat! And send out a chest of fine clothes to the pig farmer who kept him alive all that time.

And his mother just kept murmuring, My boy, my boy.

THE YEARS FLEW BY AND Lud himself passed away. Bladud took the throne and Alaron became his queen. Together, they returned to the springs in the west and established a city there in 863 BC so that other people could