Home > Essex > High Beech > Turpins Cave Turpins Cave
Date of photo: 1938	Picture source: National Brewery Heritage Trust
The Turpins Cave was situated on Rats Lane. This pub, which was also known as Dick Turpins Cave, has been demolished and was replaced by a housing development.
Local newspaper review by John Cutting, 1960s
It was back in the 1840s, at the time of the great potato famine, that George Riley's forebears left the Old Country and settled in England. Conditions may have changed but George still retains the delightful philosophy of the Irish that contentment is worth far more than riches and that, if one door slams, the another will open.
For over thirty-four years, George has 'jogged along' at Dick Turpin's Cave in High Beech and to-day he is still one of the most contented men I have ever met.
Hidden in the depths of Epping Forest the inn is not easy to find but, as George Riley points out, the house is only fourteen miles from the heart of London. From Dick Turpin's Cave it is but a sharp twenty minutes' walk to the Wake Arms from when a Green Line Bus speeds to London in just over three-quarters of an hour.
The English have an unexplained weakness for making heroes out of rogues and the idolatory recorded to Dick Turpin, an 18th Century petty horse-thief, is a classic example.
Turpin was born in Hempstead, Suffolk, in 1750 at an inn, now called the Rose and Crown, which was, at that time, known as the Bell. It is believed that after taking to a life of crime he returned, on odd occasions, to his birthplace to hide from his pursuers. There is in the roof of the Saloon Bar a chink which is still known as Dick Turpin's Spy Hole.
Later Turpin is supposed to have lived with his wife in a cottage at Sewardstone in Epping Forest and, during his stay there, he terrorised the neighbourhood. When the situation became desperate he would seek refuge in a cave in the Forest from which he had a wide view of the surrounding countryside and, to that cave, his wife brought him food and drink.
About 150 years ago, an enterprising landlord built an ale-house over the cave and the building has been little altered to this day. The bar parlour contains various relics reputed to havebeen associated with Turpin including his pistol and swords, fetters, horseshoes, bits and padlocks. If the highwayman left all these pieces behind wherever he stayed he must indeed have been a careless fellow.
Black Bess, the horse which shared his famous, but probably apocryphal, ride to York was reputed to have been his favourite steed. It would, however, seem that just as to-day motor cars are 'borrowed' and afterwards abandoned such was Dick Turpin's way with horses. Perhaps the place of Black Bess in history rests on as slender evidence as her rider's.
Turpin was finally hanged at Tyburn in April 1739 for the crime of horse-stealing.
George RIley has little time for the pace of modern life and has not, in fact, visited London for a great many years. During the War he had enough excitement in the Forest when bombs, land-mines, rockets and A.A. shells had an uncanny habit of falling where they were least expected. Not for George, either, the bustle of the modern journey by car. He recalls the brakes which, years ago, brought passengers through the Forest from Chingford. To-day few drivers will pause to consider the wise maxim that to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive. In those days passengers really enjoyed travelling.
George RIley appreciates the quiet of the countryside. At Dick Turpin's Cave will not be found the comfort of a modern inn but, in its place, there is character in plenty and the beer, all drawn from the wood, is excellent.
Perhaps if was because of the far-away look in the landlord's eyes when I was talking to him of Co. Mayo but somehow the Guinness seemed to have the genuine tang of the Liffey.
Brewers: Charrington & Co Ltd
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Other Photos
George RIley, publican, 1960s	Picture source: Carol Springham
Date of photo: 1960s	Picture source: Carol Springham
Picture source: Hania Franek