Why do we have a
thing about highwaymen? Because we do, don't we? (And I bet you're now singing
the Adam Ant song, Stand
and Deliver!) The protagonist in the novel I'm currently writing is a
part-time highwayman, and somehow this gives him a sort of glamour, an air of
mystery, even a smidgen of romance. But, really, they weren't all that great.
Nevermind 'Gentlemen of the Road', they were just thieves; and violent and
aggressive ones to boot. This video, recently posted by Marie-Louise Jensen on Facebook,
really made me laugh.
But the reason I
decided to have a highwayman in my story was because I read about Claude du
Vall. With my love of the restoration period, he had to be my highwayman of
choice. He was dashing and fashionable, everything you need in such a man, and,
allegedly, never resorted to violence. But what really made me warm to him was
the fact that he agreed not to take everything from one of his victims if the man's wife
agreed to dance with him. Here he is at that very moment. (You wonder why they
didn't just shoot him while he was dancing?)
So, back to my
original question - why do we love highwaymen so much? I can't think it was any
fun being held up at gunpoint and being forced to hand over your valuables. And
I bet most of them were not dashing and handsome and glamorous. Maybe the myth has
built over time. Or maybe the women of the time revered them too. Claude du Vall
was eventually arrested in a pub in Covent Garden, was tried for six robberies
and hanged. I leave you with his memorial inscription, which perhaps says it
all.
Here lies DuVall:
Reder, if male thou art,
Look to thy purse;
if female, to thy heart.
Much havoc has he
made of both; for all
Men he made to
stand, and women he made to fall
The second Conqueror
of the Norman race,
Knights to his arm
did yield, and ladies to his face.
Old Tyburn’s glory;
England’s illustrious Thief,
Du Vall, the ladies’
joy; Du Vall, the ladies’ grief.
Oh, and if anyone
fancies seeing him, he haunts the Holt Hotel on the Oxford Road.