DEVON VILLAINS, ROGUES, RASCALS AND REPROBATES - MIKE HOLGATE
I always thought Exmouth had a rather shady past what with its
historic opium consumption and its local, nefarious characters but
Torquay in comparison is like Gotham City and it's there where all
the real super villains have always congregated. I've only discovered
this by reading Devon Villains - Rogues, Rascals And Reprobates
by Mike Holgate in which every other story regarding sunny Devon's
darker side seems to centre around Torquay. There must be something
in the water down there.
Holgate's book is a collection of true-life tales of murderers,
smugglers, pirates, traitors, fraudsters, robbers and scandal from
across the County of Devon. Regarding Torquay, not only is it the
home-town of Dr Stephen Ward (the scapegoat of the Profumo Affair),
Agatha Christie (the ace detective writer), Robert Hitchens (the
helmsman at the wheel of the Titanic when it sank), and George
Whitehead (the first convict to escape from Dartmoor Prison in a car)
but also where Oscar Wilde stayed before he was famously accused of
being a 'sodomite' and where Bruce Reynolds - the mastermind behind the
Great Train Robbery of 1963 - had his hideout. The Penguin, the
Riddler, the Joker, and even Two-Face have all apparently been
spotted down there also, so I believe.
Much more than these particular tales, however, what I found to be of
interest were the stories under the chapter headed 'Traitors'.
Firstly, there's Sir Walter Raleigh who was born in East Budleigh,
which is situated just a few miles along the coast from Exmouth.
Raleigh's an interesting character particularly when you take into
account where he's from, which is basically a small, isolated village
in Devon. To this day there's hardly anything in East Budleigh but at
the same time it has all you might need as in a good pub, a community
hall, a village school, and a tiny community shop - all surrounded by
beautiful countryside.
I used to go there quite often and just explore the back lanes
heading out to the fields and woods, and I can see why Raleigh loved
it so. Apparently he always wanted to move back there and if you
think about it, Raleigh could have chosen to live anywhere in the
world, really; but East Budleigh for him was the most beautiful
place.
Courtier, parliamentarian, businessman, soldier, seaman, coloniser,
explorer, scientist, philosopher, historian and poet; Raleigh was one
of the most celebrated men (with a Devon accent to boot) of the
Elizabethan age before he became embroiled in political intrigue that
brought about his execution - betrayed by Lord Lewis Stucley,
otherwise known as the Judas of Devonshire.
After winning favour with Queen Elizabeth by naming the State of
Virginia in North America after her, Raleigh was bestowed a
Knighthood but soon fell foul of her by secretly marrying one of her
maids without first seeking the queen's permission. For his
impudence Raleigh was locked up in the Tower of London and on his
release in a bid to regain favour he set sail on an expedition to
South America to find the fabled city of gold known as El Dorado. His
mission failed, of course, but only because El Dorado didn't exist.
It was a fable.
With the death of Queen Elizabeth his enemies at court plotted
against him and let it be known he was against the accession of King
James (and apparently he was, according to records discovered just
over 20 years or so ago) so once again he was thrown into the Tower
of London. Always on a roll, during his captivity in the Tower he
spent his spare time writing a little book modestly entitled The
History Of The World. When finally released years later, Raleigh once
again set out on an expedition to search for gold, this time to
Guiana. Once again, however, he returned empty-handed.
It was after this that Lord Lewis Stucley (the Judas of Devonshire,
lest we forget) was offered a reward by King Jame's courtiers if he
could present some damning evidence against Raleigh that might lead
to his execution. He succeeded in this and Raleigh was arrested and
sentenced to death.
Facing his executioner on the scaffold, Raleigh declined a blindfold,
allegedly stating: "Think you I fear the shadow of the axe,
when I fear not the axe itself? Strike, man, strike!" Upon
his death, Raleigh's severed head was delivered to his wife and
legend has it that for the rest of her days she carried it with her
in her handbag.
And all this from a short bloke (if the supposedly
life-size statue of Raleigh in East Budleigh is anything to go by)
born in a nondescript little village in Devon.
I must one day write a screenplay of Raleigh's life and submit it to
Mel Gibson for filming. Or maybe a Bollywood version could be made if
Mel isn't interested? That might be interesting. Either way, I think
it's where my fortune might lie.
The second character of interest to me in Mike Holgate's book is the
Duke of Monmouth, he of the long, curly locks who led what became
known as the Monmouth Rebellion, otherwise called the Pitchfork
Rebellion. Duke, as I like to call him, mounted an ill-fated
challenge to wrest the crown from James II following the death of
King Charles in 1685.
Travelling over from Holland where he'd been living in self-imposed
exile, Duke landed at Lyme Regis before crossing into East Devon
where he began gathering hundreds of men around him from each town he
would enter; swelling his ranks to an estimated 4000 peasants,
farmers and artisans.
It must have been a sight to behold, this rag-bag army of
malcontents, dissenters and usurpers armed with pitchforks, scythes
and muskets; marching through Devon and the West Country on their way
to Bristol. The plan being to take Bristol and then head on down to
London to take the crown, though unfortunately they never got that
far.
Pitched against an army of Militiamen from Exeter and the King's own
army from London, Duke's rag-bag army were routed and vanquished at
the Battle of Sedgemoor. Survivors of the battle and rebel supporters
were then hunted down and brought before the unforgiving Judge
Jefferies in trials that became known as the Bloody Assizes, where
for simply having the temerity to plead innocence was enough to get
men hung, drawn and quartered.
Duke himself was also captured and taken to Tower Hill where legend
has it that it took seven horrifying swings of the axe upon his neck
before being decapitated. Legend also had it, however, that it wasn't
really Duke who was executed but an impersonator used to confuse the
enemy in battle and that Duke was actually biding his time to return
to the West Country and once again lead the common people to war
against the monarchy.
Perhaps Mel (or "my good friend, Mel", as I perhaps
should get used to calling him?) Gibson might be interested in a
screenplay for this?
Mike Holgate's book is a decent enough introduction to these and
other so-called villains, rogues, rascals and reprobates; and if at
times it reads like a page on Wikipedia and if at times his featured
character's connection to Devon is a bit tenuous then it can be
forgiven. The point of what Holgate's written is to gather these
tales under one book so that the reader can gain an overall view, and
then follow up elsewhere on those found to be of most interest.
That's what I did, anyway.
And the more you dig, the more you
discover, and the more you discover, the more you want to know. And
the more you know, the more interesting the world becomes.
Or it
should do.
John Serpico
I happened to be at a funeral in Surrey recently and the church was on the estate of the Raleigh family - the part that didn't move to Devon - local lore has it that Sir Walter's head is buried there (presumably no longer in the handbag). As for the bloody assizes I gather that the heads of executed peasants were displayed for many years on the Topsham road into Exeter as a warning to others not to disobey the local aristos and royalists - there's probably still many who would value this as a way of controlling the rabble, most of them probably have purple posters in their windows and fields right now....
ReplyDeleteRight. I didn't know either of those things. I can quite imagine that the heads of executed peasants would been have displayed on the Topsham Road though. And it certainly did the job as in warning others to know their place and not get any wayward ideas about things like revolution, don't you think? I wonder what might happen nowadays if I went village to village and town to town in Devon whipping up dissent? Do you think an army of malcontents, dissenters and usurpers armed with pitchforks, scythes and i-Phones might rise with me?
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