Escape to Continue

An eight mile run, almost entirely off-road, that starts and finishes in Pentrich. Its route undulates through open fields, woods and the grounds of Wingfield Manor as well as passing a couple of half decent pubs.

Pentrich is a small village that is smaller now than it was back in the early 19th century, as a direct consequence of its role at the centre of England’s last, and failed, revolution.

In 1815 the English working-class were, as generally required for a revolution, pretty pissed off with life. Food was in short supply, prices had rocketed, mechanisation was threatening jobs.

Two additional sparks were required before otherwise well-behaved men took action; a volcanic eruption and and a government-sponsored agent provocateur (imagine a Scargill that had, all along, been sent by the Government to foment unrest). Spark one. In 1815 the Tambora volcano in Indonesia erupted, ejecting more than 50 cubic kilometres of magma in explosions that could be heard from over 1400 kilometres away. 90,000 people died in the immediate aftermath, with the surrounding area smothered in a layer of ash and magma. The volcano had been erupting sporadically for three years yet had been benign for the previous 5000 years. It is said to be the largest volcanic eruption in recorded history. The massive volume of ash thrown into the atmosphere dimmed the sun’s rays so severely that the summer of 1816 was known as the “Year without a Summer”, or “Eighteen Hundred and Froze to Death”. In the western world it prompted widespread food shortages. Global temperatures had dropped by three degrees. By comparison, those of us who lie awake at night worrying about climate change are generally quite agitated about potential future changes of two degrees or so. The food shortages and price rises that arose as a consequence of Tambora would have pushed the people of villages like Pentrich closer to the edge.

On to the second spark. A chap now referred to as “Oliver the Spy” arrived on Pentrich scene. He spoke of thousands of men marching from Nottingham to London and of revolution. He was fibbing. In the absence of Google back in 1816, it seems that setting up a big fib wasn’t too hard.

Men of Pentrich and the surrounding area marched, via a good number of pubs, in the direction of Nottingham. Oliver did not take part in this march, having made his excuses about further urgent revolutionary work required of him in London. According to Government sources there were 400 marchers armed with pikes (sticks, more likely). These men were ill-equipped for taking on the detachment of the King’s Hussars which met and quickly defeated them. Around two dozen men were eventually sentanced.

There were four “ringleaders”, excluding Oliver the Spy of course. They were duly sentenced to be hung, drawn and quatered. The remaining participants in the failed revolution were to be transported to Australia or jailed. The jury making these decisions was not, strictly speaking, comprised of peers of the accused. It consisted of well-connected and rich people.

Things took a turn for the better though. George Weightman, one of the ringleaders, was due to be hanged but had his sentence reduced to a long trip to Oz. The other three ringleaders, had their sentences reduced from hanging, drawing and quartering to a more lenient hanging and beheading.

Pentrich’s fortunes dwindled following the failed revolution and the village today has old stonebuilt houses interspersed by gaps or more modern housing where the original houses were pulled down.

The final word goes to Percy Bysshe Shelley, who wrote at the time of the public outpouring of grief at the death of Princess Charlotte, whilst the deaths of three revolutionaries and their cause went relatively unnoticed. Despite Shelley’s words, grieving the death of a Princess remains popular in England. This is an extract from his pamphlet:

The news of the death of the Princess Charlotte, and of the execution of Brandreth, Ludlam, and Turner, arrived nearly at the same time. If beauty, youth, innocence, amiable manners, and the exercise of the domestic virtues could alone justify public sorrow when they are extinguished for ever, this interesting Lady would well deserve that exhibition. She was the last and the best of her race. But there were thousands of others equally distinguished as she, for private excellencies, who have been cut off in youth and hope. The accident of her birth neither made her life more virtuous nor her death more worthy of grief. For the public she had done nothing, either good or evil; her education had rendered her incapable of either in a large and comprehensive sense. She was born a Princess; and those who are destined to rule mankind are dispensed with acquiring that wisdom and that experience which is necessary even to rule themselves. She was not like Lady Jane Grey, or Queen Elizabeth, a woman of profound and various learning

The Pubs

Happily, the Dog Inn at Pentrich remains and is one of two pubs on this route, the second being the White Hart at Moorwood Moor. The Dog serves real ale, including, on my last visit, Black Sheep. The barmaid even asked whether I wanted my pint served with the sparkler on or off. The pub has been referbished to within an inch of its life, with leather sofas and a large dining area where pretty good food is served. My friend Big Kevin summarised the Dog Inn as being “chichi”.

It’s a few years since I’ve been to the White Hart, which has changed hands a few times and seen major refurbishment and extension over the years, with a greater focus on serving food. It has a pleasant decked area outside, sheltered by vines, where I’ve enjoyed a pint of cider in the sunshine but not dared drink the bitter after a couple of bad experiences. I’ll go back and see how it is these days. Big Kevin summarised the White Hart, years ago, as “froufrou”.

The Extra Head

Of the four men due to be executed, only three were beheaded – George Weightman was transported to Australia and has ancestors there today. This means I’m a beheading short of “Four Beheadings and a Volcano”. I’ll therefore throw in Mary Queen of Scots who was held several times at Wingfield Manor before eventually being beheaded in Northamptonshire.

The Route

The route is pretty self-explanatory from the map, with few obstacles other than a steep climb from the White Hart which can be a bit challenging after a pint or two.