Dick Turpin: the Cambridgeshire connection

Stand and deliver, your money or your life… The world’s most famous highwayman, Dick Turpin, has been immortalised in film and fiction. The notorious fugitive, born in Essex, spent much of his life on the run from the law. He hid out in rural East Anglia – and was rumoured to have frequented numerous Cambridgeshire pubs. In fact many 18th Century watering holes in the area claim that Turpin stayed there at some point. 

Dick Turpin has been so romanticised in popular culture that it’s sometimes hard to separate fact from fiction. The swashbuckling hero depicted in legend, riding from London to York on his trusty stead, Black Bess, is far removed from the common thief and violent villain described by historians. Who was the real Dick Turpin and what was his Cambridgeshire connection?

A criminal career
Born in rural Essex in 1706, Dick Turpin embarked on a life of crime at an early age.

After training as a butcher, he opened his own shop in Buckhurst Hill. Rather than source his meat from local suppliers, Turpin rustled livestock, a crime that carried the death penalty in those days. He was forced to go on the run after he was caught stealing a couple of oxen.

The Gregory Gang
Hiding out in the Essex countryside, Dick Turpin teamed up with a group of bandits, known as the Gregory Gang. The outlaws, based in secret hideouts in Epping Forest, were notorious for committing violent robberies. They raided farmhouses, terrorising those who refused to hand over their possessions.

After a particularly brutal robbery in Loughton in 1735, during which an elderly widow was tortured, a bounty of £50 was placed on the head of each gang member by King George II. That figure doubled after a farmer’s wife and daughter were beaten during a Marylebone break-in the following year.

Shortly after, most members of the Gregory Gang were captured and subsequently hanged. Turpin escaped arrest by jumping through a window and fleeing for his life.

He returned to Epping Forest, this time robbing stagecoach travellers rather than farmers. Together with fellow bandit Thomas Rowden, Turpin worked the roads around London, including the Great North Road in Huntingdon. The pair were responsible for hundreds of highway robberies.

Stand and deliver
Dick Turpin met an unlikely ally while travelling on the road to Cambridge one day. He attempted to rob a horse rider at gunpoint – who turned out to be “Captain” Tom King, one of the best known highwaymen of his age.

According to legend, King laughed and said: “What, dog eat dog? Come, Brother Turpin. If you don’t know me, I know you and shall be glad of your company.” [Rose]

The pair teamed up, operating from a cave in Epping Forest.

The Cambridgeshire connection
While operating along the Great North Road, Dick Turpin refreshed himself at a number of Cambridgeshire pubs.

Turpin is thought to have frequented the George Hotel in Huntingdon on a number of occasions.

 

The Crown and Woolpack on Ermine Street, formerly known as the Woolpack Inn, was also reportedly visited by Turpin. During his stay there he allegedly put the shoes of his horse on the wrong way around to fool his captors.

Other pubs claiming to have been visited by Turpin include the long demolished Bull Inn on Huntingdon’s High Street and the Three Tuns on Cambridge’s Castle Hill.

There are also rumours that Turpin stayed at the Falcon Inn in Huntingdon, the Bell Inn in Kennet near Newmarket, the Cross Keys Inn Hotel in Chatteris, and in the Fenland village of Long Sutton.

 


According to Cambridge Paranormal Research Society, Turpin was a regular at the George Hotel in Buckden and over the years, there have been sightings of a “black coated figure wearing a tricorn hat” on the first floor.

From highwayman to murderer
In May 1737, Dick Turpin committed his first known murder. A gamekeeper by the name of Thomas Morris tracked the highwayman to his forest hideout and tried to capture him, no doubt enticed by the handsome reward on offer.

However, Turpin drew out his gun and shot the gamekeeper.


Source: Newgate Calendar
 


Black Bess
Shortly after the gamekeeper’s murder, Dick Turpin committed another highway robbery – this time forcing a man to swap his thoroughbred mare for his inferior horse.

Turpin called his pride and joy Black Bess, unaware that its acquisition would lead to his best friend’s demise.

The horse’s owner put up posters around London, accusing Turpin of its theft. When Tom King tried to collect the stolen animal from a Whitechapel pub, he was arrested. Turpin, hiding nearby, tried to aid his friend by shooting at police. During a gun battle, he accidentally killed King before fleeing on the stolen mare.

In his dying moments, King supplied the constables with information about Turpin, forcing him to flee the area and create a new identity for himself. [Rose]

By this point there was a £200 bounty on Turpin’s head.

The daring dash: fact or fiction?
According to legend, Dick Turpin rode Black Bess from London to York in less than 15 hours, before news of his crimes could spread. This was immortalised in Harrison Ainsworth’s bestselling novel, Rookwood, published in 1834.

Numerous pubs along the A1 claim that Turpin stopped at their establishments en route to York. If he had, he would never have made it up north – let alone in under 15 hours!

Many historians argue that the epic ride never took place. Others say it has been confused with a similar trip carried out by highwayman John “Swift Nick” Nevison half a century earlier.

David Haslam, in Ghosts and Legends of Nottinghamshire, says that Nevison frequently robbed travellers along the Great North Road between Huntingdon and York, and it was he, rather than Turpin, who made the daring dash across the countryside. [Haslam]

The final frontier
After escaping arrest in Whitechapel, Dick Turpin established a new life for himself in Yorkshire under the alias John Palmer. He traded as a legitimate horse dealer but unbeknownst to the local community, he acquired his horses through thefts and robberies in nearby Lincolnshire. [Rose]

Turpin came to a sticky end in 1739. Following a hunting excursion with local aristocrats, he shot his landlord’s rooster in the street and then threatened to shoot the incensed landlord. As a result he was arrested and taken into custody in Beverley before being transported to the dungeons of York Castle, then a debtors’ prison. Meanwhile the authorities investigated a number of complaints made against Palmer.

While in prison, Turpin wrote to his brother, begging for his help. His alias was blown when his brother refused to pay the sixpence postage fee required to obtain the letter.

Instead it was delivered to the village postmaster, John Smith, who also happened to be Turpin’s old school teacher. Smith recognised the handwriting and handed the letter to a local magistrate. He then travelled to York to identify John Palmer as Dick Turpin, receiving the princely reward of £200 for his troubles.

In March 1739 Turpin was convicted on two counts of horse rustling and was sentenced to death.

After riding through the streets of York in an open cart, Turpin was hanged at Knavesmire on 19 April 1739. Before his death he reportedly chatted to the executioner and crowd for half an hour while standing at the top of the ladder leading to the gibbet, his neck secured to the noose. Eventually he stood up and threw himself off.

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