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Updated: May 10, 2025
Then Judge Jeffreys came there to execute judicial tortures, and by his harsh and terrible administration of the law, and his horrible cruelties and injustice, gained the reputation that has ever since been execrated. Six miles south-east of Bridgwater is the Isle of Athelney, a peninsula in the marsh between the Parrett and the Tone.
There was none to take their place here, while the old king bided in Exeter or in Cornwall, and never came to Norton at all now. So there was pillage and raiding across the Parrett, and at last Ina had sent messages to Gerent concerning it.
Gully's such a boshy starter, you know; always puts me out. Why can't they let Parrett do it?" And off they rattle, forgetting all about Cusack and his gallant father, and evidently convinced in their own minds that the flags and the carriages and the rosettes and all the festivities are solely in honour of the final heat of the junior hundred yards, in which they two are to take part.
The hamlet of Bishop's Wood, the most thickly populated part of the parish, lies in a broad defile, through which trickles the Otter brook. The church is 2-1/2 m. away on the hill-top. It is not of great interest, but contains a stoup, a piscina, and a Norm. font. Otterhampton, a parish near the estuary of the Parrett, 7 m. N.W. of Bridgewater.
The melancholy story of Mr Parrett and the sulphuretted hydrogen was recounted. "It's a pity," said he, gravely. "I wonder if Paddy would mind giving us a licking instead," suggested Pilbury, whose hands were of the horny kind. Even the others whose palms were less seasoned seemed willing to fall in with this alternative, but Riddell discouraged it. "No," said he, "he's not likely to do that.
They could hardly realise what this cruel sentence involved, but they knew it meant that life would hardly be worth living for the next six weeks. "And," continued Mr Parrett, "I have one more thing to say. Some of you here are in my house, and every one of you, I see, is in my form in Third School.
It offended him not at all to hear this good result attributed generally to Mr Parrett's instructions. He knew it was true. Mr Parrett himself took care to disclaim any but a small amount of merit in the matter.
Mr Parrett got into it, and without saying a word began to push off. "Please, sir," cried Parson at this point, feeling that his last chance was going, "I'm so sorry. We didn't know it was you, sir. It was all my fault." "No, sir," shouted Telson, "it was all my fault. We're awfully sorry, sir."
On their arrival at the school some half-hour later, Parson, Telson, Bosher, King, and Lawkins were informed that, having been reported for being absent at call-over, the captain wished to see them in his study after breakfast the next morning. Later on that same evening another notice reached them that they were wanted in Mr Parrett's room at once. Mr Parrett was a popular master at Willoughby.
Why does no decent person write an historical novel about Alfred and his fort in Athelney, in the marshes of the Parrett? Not a very historical novel. But an aboriginal romance for boys about the bare, bald, beatific fact that a great hero held his fort in an island in a river.
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