A life turning lead into gold

We’ll leave the ghosties for next week. This week we’ll concentrate on the highwaymen stuff which still makes for fascinating reading today.

I don’t know why this piece was published when it was – it might have been to mark the 274th anniversary of the death of ‘Wicked Lady’ Katherine Ferrers in mid June 1660. Or it might just have been a slow news week. Whatever; here’s an edited version of it again, a few days short of 80 years later.

“With so many main roads passing through it by which the coaches sped from the North to London and back, with so much woodland and heath, and with its close proximity to the capital, it is not surprising to learn that in the 17th and 18th Centuries, when Turpin, Duval and Macheath thrived and were feared by travellers, Hertfordshire had its full share of the ‘gentlemen of the road.’

“Lead was often turned into gold in those days. On the borders of the county, at Bushey Heath, on the road to Aylesbury and the Midlands, the road which the knights and squires from Worcestershire, Warwickshire and the hunting counties were wont to take, there was a stretch of common land, well wooded and thick with undergrowth, which was a favourite haunt of highwaymen.

“Today, the London road at Bushey Heath is built over. On each side stand houses in their own grounds. But even now some idea of what it was like can be gathered by those who pass across Stanmore Common just over the county border on the same road nearer to London or by the visitor to the delightful glades of Harrow Weald Common, to both of which Bushey Heath is practically within a stone’s throw. Bushey Heath was very like these commons until only a few years ago, and a narrow lane on the left as you come from London, still leads to Hartsbourne Manor, which in those days bore on the old maps of the county the unenviable name of Thieves’ Hole. This old manor house has been entirely rebuilt and is now the clubhouse of the Hartsbourne Manor Golf Club. But even today, beneath the courtyard, there runs an old ‘secret passage’ which now does duty as an excellent wine cellar.

“Beyond Watford and Kings Langley, at Boxmoor near Hemel Hempstead, on the common land which runs by the roadside, there is a stone slab which bears the brief inscription: ‘Robert Snooks. 11 March 1802.’

“This marks the grave of the last highwayman who ever troubled the vicinity. He was captured while attempting to rob a mail boy and was captured and hanged, his body being buried near the scene of his crime, presumably as an awful warning.

“Dick Turpin’s name has been well-known in Hertfordshire, and his exploits extended both to the Watling Street, the Great North Road and farther eastward in the county.

“Just beyond its boundaries at Edgware was the famous Chandos Arms, demolished for road widening purposes. There, Turpin is said to have had a hiding place in a room over the cobbled inn yard. On a beam in the room there was a stout hook by which he descended by means of a rope when the Bow Street Runners paid an unwelcome visit, and rode off up Brockley Hill to Elstree – perhaps even finding a hiding place among his friends at the Thieves’ Hole.

“This last, of course, is pure conjecture, but it is certain Turpin knew this part of the country well. At Letchmore Heath, between Watford and Aldenham, there is a brick-built underground ‘den’ which is known locally as ‘Turpin’s Hole’. It is well concealed, although only about a dozen yards from the main road and generations of children have peered cautiously into its darkness.

“On the Great North Road there is more than one old cottage which is called Turpin’s Rest, though whether he used all the places associated with him is unlikely. The legend may well be compared with the numerous stories of rooms in which Elizabeth and Charles II are said to have slept.

“In his famous ride to York, Turpin made his escape through the county, and legend has it that with his pursuers at his heels he stopped for a tankard of ale at Ware with his faithful Black Bess. At Royston, too, there is a legend that Turpin once backed his horse down a well and drowned it to cover his escape when closely pursued.

“The strangest stories of highway robberies come from Markyate [Street], a long straggling village between St Albans and Dunstable on the northern border of the county. Just to the East of Watling Street lies Markyate Cell [renamed Cell Park in the mid 1980s], a county mansion which has many old associations.

“On the main road in the vicinity of Markyate, in the 17th Century, was a daring and dexterous highwayman. Such notoriety did this highwayman achieve that, it is said, a trap was laid and at a spot called No Man’s Land [these days Nomansland Common] the thief was severely wounded in an ambush.

“Mounted on a jet black steed, the “gentleman of the road” made a vain effort to escape and was followed to Markyate Cell, falling dead at the floor of a secret chamber. It was then found that the highwayman was other than Lady Ferrers, who lived in the mansion. [Nomansland Common is bisected by Ferrers Lane, named in her, uh, ‘honour’]”

Anyway, “Wicked Lady Ferrers” was only 25 when she died in 1660, and her body is believed to rest in Ware Churchyard on the other side of the county. And that’s all there’s room for, so next week, we’ll look at the conclusion of this article with tales of witchcraft and ghosts including details of this country’s last ever witchcraft trial which took place in Hertfordshire in 1712.

Before we go, here's a cute picture from 1971.

Mr John Collins and Brian, 13, of Bramshaw Gardens, Oxhey, with a fine litter of six bulldog pups. The pups are all bitches.

[From the Watford Observer of June 22, 1971]