Tuckers Grave Inn

Tuckers Grave Inn, Faulkland, Somerset, was named after Edward Tucker who hung himself at nearby Charlton Farm in 1747 and was buried in unconsecrated ground at this remote crossroads as was the custom for suicides.

You’ll find me at a dark crossroad, near Charlton Barn
where they found me, the only sound after your engine
cuts being your feet shuffling blindly over my remains.

You might think me shut, for my shutters betray
no light, but knock upon my short brown door
looking beyond the curious eyes behind my grill.

Advance along my flagstone corridor and a stable door
to the left will bring you into my tap bar where the latest
hand will pour you a tankard of Butt, Bidecombe or

Thatcher’s gold straight from barrel and drop an egg
pickled to a taupe straight into your crisp packet the
opening of which you thought was your prerogative.

Craning you head, take your libations, into the Rose
Room: my snug bar, and find yourself a chair if all settle
benches are taken, as was the pattern of my life.

Allow me to guide your fingers, whilst sitting easy under
stringer beam, the fire aflame, chestnuts roasting,
Labrador dosing, to pick my tale from mantle.

I Edward Tucker, did willfully end my life by rope’s
choke for the corn laws that did rend me beggar, and
for hearing the bans of Mary Barwell already mine.