The legend of the highwayman, Dick Turpin, is as well known in Britain as Billy the Kid in the US. His body was reportedly buried in the graveyard of St George’s Church in York, following his execution in the year of 1739. Turpin has become infamous as a highwayman, although historians have found that the facts surrounding his life are very difficult to separate from the legend. This is mainly due to the fact that his figure was the subject of much gossip during his life and this spawned a great many embellished tales afterwards.

Turpin’s early life gives some good examples of how legend diverges from the facts. According to the legend, Turpin was born at the Spaniards Inn in Hampstead, North London, but according to parish records, he was actually born at The Bluebell Inn (later renamed the Rose and Crown) in Hempstead, Essex where his father was inn-keeper. When he was 16, Turpin moved south and became a butcher’s apprentice in Whitechapel, London. Turpin married his childhood sweetheart Elizabeth Millington in 1728, and moved north to Buckhurst Hill, Essex where Turpin opened a butcher’s shop.

Historians are divided as to what led Turpin to crime but it is generally thought that it began when he started stealing sheep, lambs, and cattle to supply his butchery trade. When Turpin was caught stealing two oxen he fled with his wife into the Essex countryside and lived rough in Epping Forest where he fell in with a notorious gang of bandits known as the Gregory gang. The gang were particularly violent in their criminal practise and specialised in forced entry into isolated farms and houses, terrorising occupants to make them reveal the location of their valuables. By 1735, the London Evening Post was regularly reported the exploits of Turpin and ‘The Essex Gang’ and King George II offered a price of £50 on their heads.

After the 3 ring-leaders were caught and hanged for one of their crimes, Turpin went into partnership with Tom King, known as the “the Gentleman Highwayman”, who was as famous as Turpin at the time. It is thought that King’s swashbuckling, polite character has played a part in building Turpin’s legend over time. Turpin attempted to rob King one night not knowing who he was and King apparently responded: “What is this; dog eat dog?” They formed a partnership and terrorised the local dignitaries around Epping Forest. When engaged with some constables in a shoot-out one night Turpin accidentally shot King.

Turpin fled from London to York, and his legend has it that he rode 200 miles in less than 15 hours, reaching York before news of his misdemeanours. We know from our understadning of even the strongest horses that this would not have been possible. Various inns along the proposed route claim to have had Turpin as a guest on that night and Harrison Ainsworth, in his 1834 romance Rookwood, immortalised this wonderful ride.

Turpin took up a new life in Yorkshire, where he was generally unknown and took on the identity of ‘John Palmer’ and posed as a legitimate horse dealer. It is thought that Turpin knew little about horse breeding and mainly made his money by stealing horses and selling them. Being drunk and disorderly one night and having no money, Turpin was taken into custody, and the authorities made enquiries as to how Palmer made his money and learned of outstanding complaints against him for horse stealing in Lincolnshire. Turpin was transferred to York’s debtors’ prison (now part of York Castle Museum) and from his cell Turpin wrote to his brother-in-law at Hempstead, requesting his brother-in-law to ‘procure an evidence from London that could give me a character that would go a great way towards my being acquitted’ i.e. provide him with an alibi. The plan backfired however, since in those days, postage was payable by the recipient, not the poster and Turpin’s brother-in-law refused to pay the sixpence demanded. The letter, undelivered fell into the hands of John Smith, the village postmaster who, by sheer bad coincidence for Turpin, had taught Turpin to read and write and recognised his handwriting. Smith travelled to York, identified Turpin and collected the £200 reward on offer.

Although he was never convicted of being a highwayman or murderer, Turpin was convicted of being a horse-rustler, which was itself an offence punishable by death. On 22 March 1739, ‘John Palmer alias Richard Turpin’ was convicted at the Grand Jury House in York on two indictments of horse-rustling. On 7 April 1739, Dick Turpin was taken through York in an open cart to arrive at Knavesmire (now York racecourse) where he was hanged. A local newspaper, the York Courant, covering the event notes Turpin’s brashness: “With undaunted courage looked about him, and after speaking a few words to the topsman, he threw himself off the ladder and expired in about five minutes.”

Turpin’s body is said to have been buried in the churchyard of St George’s Church, York with the headstone reading simply “John Palmer”. However it is claimed that shortly after the burial, his body was dug up and stolen by body-snatchers working for anatomists. It has also been claimed that the body was quickly recovered and reburied in the same spot in the churchyard, this time being covered with quicklime to destroy the remains. There is no headstone at the precise location, which today remains undiscovered.