
Member Reviews

Having read Great and Horrible News earlier this year, Adams' new book caught my eye. I really enjoy her stories of crime in early modern Britain and this new title focuses on female killers, and accused killers, of the era and how society reacted to their crimes.I really enjoy the way she puts these crimes, criminals, and victims into societal context, allowing us to understand why early modern British society was obsessed with the crimes of women in a time when men were committing far more violent crimes. Adams is a strong writer and a compelling storyteller - I'd highly recommend this to anyone looking for historic true crime tales or a social history of the time.

Thou Savage Woman by Blessin Adams delves into the chilling narratives of female killers in early modern Britain, a subject that has long intrigued me. Having studied women's history during my university years, I developed a keen interest in how women are remembered in historical contexts; this book offers a profound exploration of that very theme.
Adams, a former police officer turned historian, brings a unique perspective to the table. Her meticulous research draws from court archives, pamphlets, ballads, and other historical texts, reconstructing eight compelling stories of women whose acts of violence defied the gender norms of their time. Each chapter reads like a standalone narrative, making it accessible for readers to engage with at their own pace.
One of the most striking aspects of the book is its examination of societal perceptions. In an era where men were predominantly seen as perpetrators and women as victims, these women shattered conventions. Their crimes, often involving poison or witchcraft, were sensationalized, reflecting a deep-seated fear of women who deviated from prescribed societal roles. Adams adeptly highlights how these narratives were not just about the crimes themselves but also about the anxieties they stirred in a patriarchal society.
The book also resonates with contemporary discussions around justice and gender. Adams draws parallels between historical cases and modern instances, suggesting that while much has changed, certain biases and perceptions persist. This connection underscores the enduring relevance of the book's themes.
In conclusion, Thou Savage Woman is a masterfully researched and compellingly written exploration of female agency and societal fear. Adams not only brings to light forgotten histories but also prompts readers to reflect on the narratives we construct around gender and crime. For anyone interested in women's history, true crime, or the complexities of historical memory, this book is an invaluable read.

This was my second Blessin Adams book, and I am a fan. But with so many women, crimes, and gruesome details packed in, I struggled to keep all the names and events straight. Still, the stories she unearthed are unforgettable. This is a great response to, "Why true crime NOW?" because these women were intriguing because of their crimes yes, but, Adams offers details about what those women tick.
Adams blends police procedural instincts with historical insight, examining how justice, gender, and faith collided—especially in heart-breaking cases of infanticide, criminalised motherhood, and the cruel religious laws that punished families almost as harshly as the dead. It’s brutal, occasionally wry, and always thoughtful.
I’d recommend it to anyone interested in the messier side of history. True Crime now and FOREVER!
Thanks to NetGalley and William Collins for the eArc.

Thou Savage Woman is a powerful, unsettling, and utterly absorbing exploration of female violence in a time when women were expected to be silent, submissive, and saintly. In this brilliantly researched and compellingly written history, former police officer and historian Blessin Adams lifts the veil on a hidden archive of stories—of women who defied the roles society gave them, sometimes with deadly consequences.
Drawing from court records, pamphlets, ballads, and popular media of Early Modern Britain, Adams brings to life the women who shocked and scandalized their contemporaries. Their crimes—poisonings, infanticides, stabbings—are not just sensational episodes, but entry points into a deeper understanding of gender, power, and violence. Through her nuanced retelling of these cases, Adams reveals how these women were portrayed as monstrous, unnatural, and wicked—not simply because of their crimes, but because they dared to cross boundaries society held sacred.
What makes this book so exceptional is its balance: it neither romanticizes nor demonizes its subjects. Instead, it situates them in the broader social and cultural forces of their time—poverty, abuse, repression, and fear—and asks us to consider how desperation, trauma, and resistance played roles in acts of violence. Adams is especially careful and compassionate in her analysis of cases involving domestic violence and coercion, reminding readers that these were often women whose lives were marked by suffering long before they became perpetrators.
With the skill of a novelist and the rigour of a scholar, Adams recreates the texture of 17th-century streets, courtrooms, and kitchens, immersing the reader in the worlds these women inhabited. Yet her greatest triumph may be the way she gives voice to the voiceless—women who were vilified in their own time and largely forgotten in ours.
Thou Savage Woman is not just a book about crime. It’s a book about power, perception, and the historical silence around women’s rage. Bold, informative, and deeply moving, this is essential reading for anyone interested in women’s history, justice, and the ways we continue to wrestle with the idea of who has the right to violence—and why.

A well-written and interesting rendition of what life was like during the time of the Tudors and the Stuarts. Mostly - especially if you were poor and female - absolutely godawful.
I will be brutally honest here, had I been there, I would no doubt have been burned alive and written about for years to come, because I would certainly have been rather free with the Belladonna. Rest assured, most of these men deserved everything they got, and then some. Being brutally beaten, raped, and having your meagre earnings taken from you, on a daily basis, sometimes all by the very same perpetrator, was a fairly common-place way of life back in the day.
Some accepted it as their lot in life, some did not. I would not have. As is so often the case with these tales, anyone who was a little different, knew the ways of nature or herbs (or liked cats), terrified the daylights out of stupid, base men. And suffered terribly for it. In varying degrees, still a problem to this day.... It must be said that while we have come a long way regarding justice and fairness, we still have quite a road to travel.
All in all, a fascinating and enjoyable romp into what life was like in early modern Britain (and believe me, if you harbour even a smidgeon of romantic fantasy regarding that period, this book will rip it from you and set it alight). Tea, anyone?

This book was a little different to what I imagined. I've read similar books and thought it would be more date I say glamorous however it was deeply sad and very depressing. However it was a great book and I found myself discussing and talking through certain parts with friends.
It must have taken a lot of research.
Thanks for the aex

As someone who is finding historical true crime more and more interesting I was so pleased to be given a chance to read this book.
It was a great read about some historical stories that I’ve never heard of all on women killers.
What made my skin crawl with anger is how some of these women were treated by the early moderns as the author called them, and even in cases of domestic violence the women were still seen as the bad guy.
I liked how the author recapped at the end the striking difference between their time and now but also scarily how similar it still is in this age of true crime.
A fascinating read but I did find there was some repetition throughout within the same chapters but not enough to disturb my reading.
I would have liked more stories on actual killers but it was interesting to read about circumstances that caused death to innocent women based on witchcraft and the devil.
If you’re interested in historical crime, definitely a read for you.
Thank you to netgalley and the publisher for allowing me a copy of this book.

This book is utterly wonderful, an absolute delight in all its gory and eye opening detail. Extremely assessable and well researched for a non-fiction read. I particularly enjoyed the sections about "witchcraft."

This was an interesting book that immerses you in the historical world and explains how and why female killers were around in these days, usually due to the situations they find themselves in and the struggles of being a woman in this time. There was a good variety of stories so you didn't feel like one went on too long. I did wish that it had a bit more structure, as I thought it would be split into specific sections to take you through the stories and the who, why, how, etc. However, this didn't have much of a structure I could see and just went from story to story without saying much. An interesting read but it felt quite long and slow at times.

(More of a 2.5 - 2.75 star read)
Sadly, this book was only just fine. At first, I was pretty interested in learning about female killers in early modern Britain but after a while reading started to feel quite tedious because I just felt like everything was being repeated. Additionally, some chapters just didn’t talk about female killers at all but instead focused on „witches“, some of whom were suspected of murder, some of them not even that, so it felt like the author ran out of stories to tell. While I didn’t terribly mind the addition of witches, I wish it had been advertised because it was not why I picked up the book so it was more of a false advertising issue. Overall, it was a decent read and I wouldn’t discourage anyone from reading this book, but my advice would be to adjust your expectations.

This was an enjoyable, informative read although I did find parts repetitive. It was really interesting to see how views/opinions of women in general have (or havent!) changed since early modern Britain.
I found the book to be well written, the information was easy to digest. I had no idea before reading this that humans have long had a fascination with true crime!
I'd recommend this to anyone that has an interest in true crime.

Thou Savage Woman is a bold and thought-provoking exploration of how society has historically treated women who step outside the lines—those deemed difficult, dangerous, or defiant. Blessin Adams brings her experience and empathy to the page, blending historical cases with modern reflections in a way that is both accessible and powerful.
The book challenges the reader to rethink long-held narratives, shining a light on forgotten stories and giving voice to those silenced by time and prejudice. It’s sharp, unapologetic, and full of insight. At times, the pace slows slightly due to the depth of the historical context, but the message remains impactful throughout.

2.5
Very repetitive and a lot of speculation about cases that we have little to no information of. An interesting concept for a book but somewhat weakened by the overgeneralised conclusions made.

A thoroughly enjoyable dive into womanhood and crime in the 1200s and beyond. I was so immersed in these stories. Some of these I already knew but others were new to me and it was interesting to find out more about how female killers were viewed, as well as the amount of information still available from that time period. I also listened to a podcast where Blessings Adams came out to talk about her book and one of the family poisoners in detail - it was so interesting! Plus I appreciated knowing her research and where she found out about some of these cases. I’m excited to pick up the book she wrote previously about crime in the early modern period and any book she writes in the future. A new favourite non fiction writer!

An interesting deep dive into 'female murderes' of the early moder period, highlighting how social stigma (misogyny) influences law. However I expected this to be something that it's not. I enjoyed the nuance given to the case studies given, however the overall reading was dry and sometimes missed the mark.

How early modern society treated violent women
—
In a mix of reportage, history and analysis, Adams presents individual cases of violent women, not all killers, and the response of the worlds around them. Ranging from the late Tudor period to the Victorian, Adams passionate eye reflects on the circumstances of each woman driven to violence. However, in a short book light on historical technique are also included women accused of witchcraft but not murder, as well as women involved in murders but not actually in the act itself.
Sadly, there seems to be little coherence across the book’s structure, little comparison or tracing of developments, in criminology or criminal intent, so the book ends up as a well-padded list of violent women and their times, leaping around in time and subject.
Two and a half stars.

Interesting read!
A thoroughly researched book, delving into the history of ‘criminal’ women. This ranged from the ones doing the murdering, whether that be with (what I would interpret) as just cause or not and those ones accused (usually witchcraft).
It’s not a nice read, the history of women usually isn’t. But fascinating nonetheless.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher
4/5 ⭐️

This was an interesting delve into some real-life historical cases where women were accused of murder. Some were accused and found guilty of murders they didn’t commit, and others were murderers at a time when such acts were linked to witchcraft.
I’d recommend this to anyone who enjoys the human stories of history. My thanks go to NetGalley, the publisher William Collins, and the author for an ARC in return for an honest review.

In this book, we are presented with women from the early modern British era, who commited crimes, some more horrific than others.
There is a story of Elizabeth Evans who left for London in 1630 to work in service, but ended up working as a prostitute. An encounter with a man nicknamed ‘Country Tom’, a petty thief, resulted with the two of them killing rich-looking men and pilfering their belongings.
Then, there is the story of Alice Arden who was having an affair, and with the help of her lover, she plotted the demise of her husband.
This book features a shocking story of Mary Hobry, a French midwife, who was brutally abused by her husband, Denis. After one of many beatings, she couldn’t stand it any longer and she killed him. However, she cut up his body and disposed of all the parts. Mary’s story has moved me the most. She was a woman who couldn’t see a way out of her husband’s abuse. At that time, a woman belonged to her husband, and he could treat her as he saw fit.
Then, there are stories of women who were persecuted and (unlawfully) accused of witchcraft. Back in the day, any sign of difference wasn’t seen as a good thing. Overly eager men were scared of women who were different, who had cats, who knew herbal medicine.
Overall, it is a great book, perfect for all history buffs.
Many thanks to William Collins for approving my NetGalley request to read this title.

Following on from her earlier book, Great and Horrible News, Adams continues her investigation of crime and justice in early modern Britain, but this time concentrating on female murderers. She goes into detail of eight cases, each chosen to highlight an aspect or aspects of the reasons women murdered, how they were perceived by the public and how they were treated by the courts. Her style is relaxed – not academic – and some of the stories read almost like mini-thrillers. While she doesn’t try to exonerate the women entirely (except in a couple of cases about witchcraft), she makes it clear that she feels misogyny and the patriarchal legal system played a large part in the crimes and punishments of these women. Adams omits discussion of infanticide in this book because she covered it fairly extensively in the earlier book.
It comes as no surprise that, in several of the cases, the ‘victim’ was the husband. Adams discusses how women had no legal recourse against a violent husband – both marital rape and wife-beating were legal, even if they might be frowned upon. In the case of Mary Hobry, for example, Mary earned her living as a skilled midwife. Her husband was a drunken wastrel, often leaving her and then returning to live off her meagre earnings. He regularly beat her violently. Mary tried to run away and hide and even saw a priest to ask for a formal separation, but all to no avail. One night, after her husband had raped and beaten her, she strangled him while he lay in a drunken stupor. Like all the convicted women in the book, she was executed.
Adams also looks at ‘professional’ murderers. She tell the story of a woman who had sex with a boyfriend who then deserted her. This ruined her reputation and she was thrown out of her job onto the streets, where she became a prostitute. But she then partnered with a man, and would use her womanly wiles to lure men to lonely places where her partner would kill them and rob them. Again, Adams doesn’t minimise the true murderous intent of these crimes, but by showing Bess’ background, she elicits sympathy for her descent into criminality. She also points out that the boyfriend who deserted her would have suffered little or no adverse social repercussions.
She uses a couple of cases to discuss witchcraft, and the reasons why women were so often accused of being witches. In one case, the accuser was mad and felt he was being persecuted by witches. Adams shows that, somewhat surprisingly, the authorities did not take his accusations seriously for a long time – the rage against witches was not so strong in England at that time, she suggests, as in Scotland and some parts of Europe. The other case was more calculated – an inheritance battle where some disinherited relatives felt that an accusation of witchcraft might get the will overturned. In both cases, while Adams is clear that none of the accused women were even pretending to be witches, their fate was ultimately sealed.
Another case involves a woman who murdered several people, often for very little reason. We would call her a serial killer, but Adams points out that this was not a concept recognised at that time. Serial killers were simply murderers who had murdered a lot of people.
Adams uses the news sheets of the day to show the public reaction to all these cases. Women were not expected to be violent, and therefore the public reaction to women murderers was disproportionate. No consideration was given to the fact that women had no legal power and very few rights, and that sometimes murder was a means of self-defence against a violent man. The system was stacked in favour of men, and in particular, of men of good social standing. Murder of the head of a household was considered ‘petty treason’, and women who committed this crime were burned alive. Men convicted of the same offence were hanged. Adams says that often the executioner would strangle the woman to unconsciousness with a noose before lighting the fire beneath her – kindness shows itself in strange ways!
Burning alive for murdering your violent spouse might sound pretty barbaric, but not as barbaric as the punishment for poisoning him, as laid down in one of dear Henry VIII’s laws – boiling alive. Happily, this punishment didn’t stay on the statute book for too long.
Adams concludes by comparing then to now. She suggests that the public horror at the idea of female murderers hasn’t changed much. Misogyny means that women who murder after rape or domestic violence are still reviled. I’m not sure that I agree with that – I think both public and courts treat a woman who murders an abusive partner with rather more sympathy these days, while still recognising that it is a crime. She shocked me, however, by pointing out that the percentage of successful rape convictions has not changed between then and now. And finally she makes the oddly feminist point that women are just as capable of violence as men, even if fewer of them resort to it.
Overall I found it an interesting read, although it began to feel a little repetitive towards the end. As now, the motive for women murdering was often a response to male violence, and the women always ended up on the scaffold or the pyre. Personally, I felt that Adams should have omitted one of the husband murders and instead have included an example of infanticide – not everyone will have read the earlier book, and even those of us who have won’t have remembered all the details. But this is a small criticism of a book that does a valuable job in showing how far we have come, and perhaps of reminding us of how far we still have to go, in achieving a fairer, more equal justice system.