To spot the Taunton Unitarian Chapel, look straight ahead for a tall cream-colored building with elegant rounded windows and classical columns, topped by a triangular pediment above a central doorway and flanked by two old-fashioned lanterns.
Now, take a deep breath and imagine standing here, watching the same doorway where centuries of determined souls once nervously glanced back over their shoulders. It’s hard to believe, but there was a time when simply walking into a place like this could land you in very hot water-possibly even hotter than a cup of Somerset cider left out in the summer sun! Back in the 17th century, Taunton was filled with "Dissenters"-men and women who simply wanted to worship in their own way, and boy, did it get them into trouble. Picture soldiers marching down Mary Street, and the doors of an early Meeting House swinging shut behind families hoping for a bit of peace.
The very first chapel here was built in 1670, right in the middle of all that tension. The government’s rules were strict: if you weren’t praying with the Church of England, you might as well be digging your own grave. And yet, the bravest folks in Taunton-Baptists-banded together to build a house of worship. Then came an on-again, off-again wave of tolerance, like the English weather: the Royal Declaration of Indulgence in 1672 allowed worship outside the law for just one year, before Parliament took even that crumb away again.
After rebellions and stirrings-the Monmouth rebellion, to be precise, with Dissenters right in the thick of it-the glorious shake-up called the Glorious Revolution brought King William III, and with him, a bit more freedom to worship outside the Anglican fold. By 1712, this congregation had enough muscle and money to create the grander building you see today, funded entirely by its stubbornly faithful members.
But even inside these walls, things weren’t so simple! Under pastor Joseph Jeffries, worship shifted from standard Baptist fare to something even more controversial: Unitarianism. Imagine that-choosing to believe in “one God and Father of all,” instead of the Trinity-at a time when Parliament flat-out forbade it! It wasn’t until the Doctrine of the Trinity Act in 1813 that being a Unitarian was actually legal. Until then, sermons here sometimes required a little extra courage... and possibly a good disguise.
Now, for a dose of drama. Fast forward to the 18th century, when Rev. Joshua Toulmin took charge of the chapel. He faced a steady diet of “unremitted insult and misrepresentation.” Once, an angry crowd even burned an effigy right at his front door, like a giant, angry scarecrow-but with much less straw and a lot more tension. Miraculously, Toulmin escaped a nastier fate thanks to quick-thinking friends. But not all visitors were so frightening-imagine, if you will, the great poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge himself, popping in to preach during his visits to nearby Nether Stowey. He once wrote about the long walk into Taunton to cover divine services; not your usual poetry gig!
Inside, you’d still see many original features: solid oak galleries, Corinthian columns, and a delicately carved wooden pulpit-all beneath a brass chandelier gifted by one of Taunton’s own MPs, Nathaniel Webb. Outside, that crisp Italianate design you see-the elegant pilasters and round-arched windows-was added in 1881, when the facade got a “glow-up” and the twin doors became one. Can you imagine the stories swirling in the air after Sunday service, children squeezed onto the stairs, voices echoing off the high ceilings?
But the chapel cared not just for souls, but for minds, too. Taunton’s Unitarians were the first to offer free schooling for girls alongside boys-a pretty radical idea at the time. In 1886, the Mary Street Memorial Schools were built next door as a tribute to one of the chapel’s beloved pastors-and just imagine the shuffle of busy feet and the happy clamor drifting over from that building.
As you stand here, know that this building is far more than its stylish facade; it’s a survivor, a rebel, and a quiet champion of open-mindedness and courage. Even now, services are held here twice a month, and the voices that rise inside carry the echoes of centuries past-each one a testament to the stubborn hope and humor that’s very much a part of Taunton’s spirit. In a way, you could say this chapel is like a good joke that’s lasted for centuries: a surprising, difficult, and utterly human punchline right in the heart of Mary Street.
