A Wonderful Find

It was a cold wet and miserable day, not the day to be out walking in Somerset. My wife, Susan, and I had decided to do some research at Taunton Library, local studies section to see what more little gems of information that we could dig up. It had been over six months since our last visit and we had nowhere to stay. The Tourist Information Service at Taunton is situated right at the entrance to the library, so before entering we decided to find somewhere to stay first.

I have always found the information service to be excellent at locating a room at the right price, so put myself in the hands of the staff there. Our initial thought had been to return to Burnham for the night so that I could continue with my search there for the pub that my uncle had told me about. He had in the late 1940's stumbled across a pub in Burnham, which had a plaque on the wall. It commemorated the saving of the proprietor's daughter from a drowning, by one of my family name HURMAN. I have spent many an evening walking from pub to pub in Burnham trying to locate this mysterious hostelry, without success. Not that the experience has been unpleasant.

Then the trouble began. Taunton did not cover the area so they tried to contact the Burnham office, no reply. They tried Weston Super Mare, no reply. They even tried Gordano further to the north but they could not help either. After 25 minutes and wasting valuable research time in the library, I decided to stay locally.

"Find me somewhere nice around here", I said a little frustrated that things were not going too well and we still had a lot of research to do.

Opening the brochure the nice woman said, "We have quite a choice, would you like to look at these?"

There in front of me was a nice selection of Inns and guesthouses, and one caught my eye almost instantly. The Queens Arms, Pitminster a nice old inn, with real ale and they served food. No driving for me then at the end of a day of rummaging through books, fiche and film. No a quiet night at the inn, food real ale and an early night.

"This looks very nice. We'll try that." I said.

The woman looking relived picked up the telephone and called the pub for me. Yes, there was a vacancy and so we booked it. All paid I went off to the library content that we had somewhere to rest that night. Now we could get down to some serious business of research. What would we find today?

The library hold many records not held at the Taunton Record Office. It is also less patronized are therefore easier to use. The librarian is most helpful and seems to know exactly where every record, source and book is located on the shelves. Explain your problem and he will point you in the right direction. My first surprise was in finding the GRO reference to my great grandfather's death, 
1892, Sep, Death, Joseph Cornelius Hurman, 31, Cardiff, 11a, 202.

Yes, this was the right age, Cardiff is just across the channel from Weston and I knew that he had been a travelling man, moving about. This had to be him. After 18 months of searching, I had actually found a reference for this man other than the censuses. This was worth waiting for. Elated at the find we went for lunch.

The afternoon was not so good. Quite a few little references and a disappointment or two. I had hoped to find the report of an inquest into the death of Mary Elizabeth Hurman at Huntspill in 1868. We did find a number of other references to the family within the film of the local papers. By the end of the day, I had a headache and felt a little sick. I am one of those unfortunate people who appear to suffer some form of motion sickness when use fiche or film readers. So with my results firmly tucked under my arm we made of towards our lodgings for the night, the Queens Arms beckoned.

Pitminster is located just a few miles out of Taunton and is sign posted quite well. By now, the mist was descending quite rapidly and it was drizzling with rain. We arrived late afternoon just at dusk, the roads were narrow and lined with old houses and cottages. The village centre appeared to have suffered very little modernization. We turned into the village and down the side of the inn. The car park was there right alongside a small stream, and the manor house could be seen just up the road. 

Susan and I entered to find our hosts expecting us, and were made to feel very welcome. We were shown to our room, at the top of a narrow stairs, and settled in for the evening. The room was comfortable, but was clearly part of a very old building. The beams were exposed and showed signs of age, twisted slightly the gave the ceiling an uneven look. The floor was as bad, slanting away from the door, it felt as if you were being drawn to the rear of the room. A ball would have rolled into the corner propelled my some mysterious force. The whole atmosphere was eerie, although very comfortable. We freshened up and went down to the bar to sample some of the hosts real ale and food.

The gentleman that I am I went to the bar in the dining area to order some drinks. The walls looked as old as the upper floor that we had just left bare stone in places, cleaned and preserved to give character to this building that oozed it like oil from an oil field. There were two alcoves opposite and a doorway that led to the main part of the pub that was furnished with very old rustic looking furniture. The walls were bedecked with pictures and artefacts depicting country life, befitting this country inn and it's location in the heart of Somerset.

As I have indicated above, we have searched pubs and public places for clues of past folk who may have inhabited the them. Always in the hope that we might stumble on a little bit of our family history. Tonight was no exception. Susan was looking at some pictures and moved into the alcove furthest away from me. Suddenly, I heard a gasp and my name, almost in a whisper. She beckoned me over. I paused, after all I was about to sample the real ale, that I had come to this inn for. 

"Come here” she said, "look at this."

I walked over to investigate what she had found that had startled her so much. I looked closer at the modern scroll encased in a picture frame, protected by glass. There it was, in a spotlight clear as could be it read;

The Queens Arms, Pitminster

The original use for this building was as a mill. First mentioned in 1036 it was the oldest recorded mill in the Taunton Deane area. The Doomsday Census of 1086 records the mill paying 16d per year rent, the deeds being held by St. Swithins Priory, Winchester. In 1208 the mill became part of the Taunton Deane Manor under the ownership of the Bishop of Winchester. From that time the accounts of its grinding and repairs to its fabric are entered on the Pipe Rolls.

1497 - The miller was John Hurman at a rent of 40s
1526 - ceded to the son of the above also named John
1558 - Joan Hurman widow of John
1561 - John
1613 - Robert Hurman, grandson of Joan

In 1613 the description of the mill included reference to a malt mill, newly constructed "under the roof" of the existing mill together with a plot of land 40' x 20' added from the Lords waste. In 1614 Robert Hurman sold the mill to William Hill of the Taunton merchant family responsible for the building of Pondersford Park. The Hill family then kept it for almost 80 years.
1691 - George Priest
1707 - Hannah Bussell daughter of George Priest
1727 - Peter Bussell son of Hannah
1728 - William Bowden
1731- Samuel Brown
1748 - Samuel Brown son of Samuel Brown

In 1852 James Buckland took over the running of the mill. It was during his ownership that the mill also became a public house, known then and since as the Queens Arms. James Buckland as doubled both the miller and innkeeper until 1882 when the inn was sold to Taunton brewers Messrs Hanbury. George Redwood was appointed as the first " true landlord". The Queens Arms has been maintained as a popular village pub to this day. Now the premises much enlarged and more comfortable the present landlord intends to retain that cosy atmosphere unique to the village "local".

Eureka! What a find. Here intent on relaxing I had found my oldest record yet of a Hurman in Somerset. This was not the pub that we had been looking for, and I still have to find. It was however a terrific find. I do not have any older reference to a Hurman anywhere, so could this be where it all started. Well the trail has to lead somewhere and although I have a lot to do to get back to John, it was possibly the most rewarding and encouraging experiences of my life.

The amazing thing is that since this discovery I have discovered a few real live descendants of John Hurman, the miller. But that as they say is another story.