DICK TURPIN AND HIS ROOM

Manawatu Times, Volume 62, Issue 167, 16 July 1937, Page 8

DICK TURPIN AND HIS ROOM

Hidden Cell in Ancient Tnn

JJMIEKE is much speculation at Iver

Heath regarding the future of the ancient Crooked Billet Inn, which will shortly close its doors and transfer its name and licenco to a modern hotel nearing completion at Five Points, some little distance along the high road, says a special correspondent of the London Observer. Innkeeper Harold Jeapes, carrying an oil-lantern—the inn has used no other form of illumination—took mo over the old house, with its great beams and its horn window of eighteen panes, and then across the yard to the thatched wooden walled stable where, it is supposed, Dick Turpin kept bonny Black Bess. Innkeeper Jeapes pointed to a win dow. “Turpin is said to have slept in that room on many occasions,” he said. “If he was surprised by the Bow street runners, ho had to drop only a matter of eight feet and run a few yards to jump into the saddle. '‘Geographically, this would be a j!nr haven for highwaymen, for the Oxford road is just a milo and a half away, and tho Bath road two miles. It i* known from records that Turpin stay ed at an inn in this district wlier« 4 courts were held, and by eavesdropping could hear the amount of ransom placed upon his head. “Courts were held in tho big room upstairs until half a century ago: some of the old peoplo remember them. There are, too, some surviving fittings that were used for the courts, and there was a lot of derelict official papers, all these have disappeared.*’ Mr Jeapes led tho way through tin beer cellars on the ground floor, where there is a wonderful oak beam nearly twenty-five feet in length supporting the old court room. Up the creaking stairway, I was shown the surviving horn window, which, before the inn was enlarged, was in the main wall. To this day one can see through it almost as clearly as through glass In an old bedroom Mr Jeapes showed, in the wallpaper, the outline of a shallow door. “Behind that door.” he 68id, “is a dark unventilated cell

where they kept prisoners about to’ come for triaL A very unpleasant* cell, I assure you.” Wqlls of old brick are two feet In thickness. Tho old ehimneys are open vertically to the sky; often the fireplaces are strewn with leaves from the surrounding pine forest. In the kitchen is the Crooked Billet’s only water supply—a quaint pump which draws the water from a well deep down untho three thatched stables the ono used for change-horses In the coaching der the copper. Just outside is one of days. A.s might be expected, good Queen Bess is alleged to have slept in tho inn while en route for Windsor, rn«l Queen Victoria, on a similar journey, said to have paused t e.e .0* 1. t* space. Proclamations, it is averred, * ere once read from the doorstep of the Crooked Billet. While there is a wealth of oak beams and other wood in the inn which havo defied tho mysterious centuries, other beams aro hidden under false ceilings. * ‘ I often wonder what will be found if the place is pulled down,” said Mrs Jeapes, speculatively. The three thatched wooden scabies bear testimony 10 the stout oak ol old England and the ancient builders Jn Black Bess’s box there aro tree mink supports in the wad. Black Boss s hayrack is still there, but tho manager is missing. The wooden gable wall has warped under the ceuturies, but at casual glance looks good enough tor another long innings. Mr. Jeapes, before becoming landlord was a cinema camera man, who travelled the world. He accompanied the Duke of Windsor on his Japanese tour shortly alter the war, and, with his considerable experience of Jile, is * hard-headed man of affairs. Landlord Jeapes is moving from tho old house to the new. Just exactly what is going to happen to the ancient* building is not clear; it may, in tho couqpe of events, make way loi a broader highway under the national programme. Its quaint history, whatever it is—and authentic records would appear to be lacking—will probably ho forgotten, but it is to bo hoped lit it» such things as the horn window, tuo fine old timbers, and Black Bess’s hay; rack will be preserved.