In fact, black people have been present in English life since the time of the Roman occupation. There is very strong evidence that black Roman soldiers were stationed near Hadrian's Wall at the northern outpost of England, but the first really visible, permanent, group of black people in English life appeared towards the end of the sixteenth century. These Africans were brought to England in the wake of Sir John Hawkins' trading missions to Africa and the Americas, and were often treated as little more than exotic objects whose main function was to adorn the houses and palaces of the nobility and aristocrats upon whom the 'captives' were occasionally encouraged to serve. In 1601, concerned by the escalating numbers of coloured people in her kingdom, Queen Elizabeth I of England issued a proclamation ordering the expulsion of the 'blackamoors'. However, as the English trading mission transformed itself into the fabulously profitable business of slavery, hundreds of black people now began to find themselves adrift in England. By the late eighteenth century, England had a sizeable population of people of African origin, and these individuals were often able to form and maintain their own clubs and societies. In the nineteenth century, with the abolition of the slave trade, and the steady increase of instances of intermarriage, the black population began to decline significantly, and it was not to grow again in size until the late fifties and sixties with the advent of mass migration from the Caribbean. For most of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, there were vast sections of England where a coloured face had never been seen, and the appearance of an African or West Indian would be a truly alarming spectacle. This is how Lionel Fitzherbert Turpin must have appeared to the townsfolk of Leamington Spa in the early part of the twentieth century. After his untimely death, Lionel left a legacy of five mixed-race children in Leamington Spa, who not only constituted a truly unusual sight, but who were regarded by some intolerant locals as a social problem which they were ill-equipped to deal with.
By the time young 'Licker' Turpin reached fourteen, he was seldom attending school and it was clear that his life was in danger of taking a turn towards lawlessness. At the local Leamington Spa Boys' Club, a boxing section had recently been formed under the guidance of a local policeman, Inspector John 'Gerry' Gibbs, and an Italian former amateur welterweight champion named Ron Stefani. They both loved the physical skill and discipline of boxing, preferring the purity and dignity of the amateur ranks to what they perceived to be the chicanery and exploitation of the professional world. In 1942 they persuaded the young tearaway 'Licker' Turpin to come into the gym, and it soon became clear that the coloured lad possessed an extraordinary talent. He was quick, aggressive, and keen to learn, and he was also strong and eager to develop his strength by lifting weights. This was an unusual method of training, for traditionally fighters worried that it made them less lithe and supple; it was also believed that the new muscles might 'confuse' the boxing muscles, but the stubborn youngster continued to build up his strength with weights, a regime that he remained loyal to throughout the full length of his career.
The day young Randolph Turpin stepped into the Leamington Spa gym, boxing was already in his blood. His eldest brother Dick had turned professional as a two-pounds-a-bout boxer when Randy was only nine, and he was now establishing himself as a serious fighter. Jackie was also handy with his fists, but Gibbs and Stefani knew that the jewel in the family crown, and the kid who had everything, was young Randy. The following year, in 1943, when aged only fifteen, Turpin won the British junior 112 lb championship. In 1944 he won the British junior 133 lb championship, bringing even further glory to the name of Leamington Spa Boys' Club. However, with a war raging across the globe, nothing was going to be simple, including making a career and progressing as a boxer. His older brother Dick had joined the army and was on active duty, while Jackie had decided to join the Royal Navy. 'Licker' had now left school and was working as a labourer in a local builder's yard, but he decided to join the Royal Navy where he was assigned to duties as an assistant cook. This gave him plenty of time to continue to box, and in 1945 he achieved a unique double by winning both the junior ABA 147 lb British championship and the senior ABA title, which made him both the youngest boxer, and the first black boxer, to win an ABA senior championship. He also won the navy title, the Inter-Services title, and the following year the ABA senior middleweight championship. Those knowledgeable about the sport recognised the 'Leamington Licker' as the outstanding amateur oxing prospect in the country and the boy was still only seventeen.
After the war, 'Licker' returned to Leamington Spa and continued to fight as an amateur, but to him it made little financial sense, although both John 'Gerry' Gibbs and Ron Stefani were keen for him to remain an amateur and compete for an Olympic gold medal at the 1948 games in London. His brother Dick had already resumed his professional career, and Jackie, a promising featherweight, was also now ready to join the professional ranks and start earning some real money. In September 1946, eighteen-year-old Randolph Turpin became the third family member to box professionally, like his brothers before him, he did so under the management of a modest local businessman with round scholarly glasses and a pencil-thin moustache named George Middleton. With an outstanding amateur record of ninetyfive victories against just five losses, all the London managers were clamouring for Randy Turpin's signature, but the teenager preferred to remain with a local man whom he knew and trusted, rather than sign with a bigname manager. 'Licker's' professional career began handily enough on 17 September, 1946 with a first-round technical knockout of a journeyman named Gordon Griffiths. The boxing press were convinced that the youngster had made a successful transition to the professional ranks and one of them wrote: 'The way Turpin leapt on Griffiths, like a bronze tiger devouring a tethered kid, battering him halfway through the ropes until the referee intervened in the first round, was enough to prove that a new middleweight menace had arrived.' Thereafter, young Turpin put together an impressive string of twelve victories in 1947, often appearing on the undercard of fights that included his better known older brother, Dick. His progress was extremely impressive, but at nineteen he was not yet old enough to fight for a British title. In fact, the rules had only recently been changed to allow a black boxer to contest for a British title, and both George Middleton, and perhaps more importantly, the Turpins' mother, wanted Dick to have first crack at a title fight.
Professionally, things were undoubtedly progressing well for Randy, but the teenager's personal life was beginning to show signs of considerable strain. The Turpin boys, Dick, Jackie, and Randy, known collectively in the boxing fraternity as 'the dark threats', all had an eye for a pretty girl, and they were tough, they were cocky, and they walked with a considerable swagger. Local girls found the boys attractive, particularly young Randy who, despite his youth, seemed to rule the roost. Among Randy's sparring partners at the Leamington Boys' Club was a young Irish middleweight named Mick Stack who, although he was destined to never make the top grade as a professional, already showed considerable courage inside the ring. 'Licker' Turpin was often short of sparring partners, not only because of his renowned skill, but because he didn't seem to know when to go easy on those of lesser ability. Any sign of weakness was likely to be met with a beating, but equally any sign of resistance was taken as an affront and the young fighter would begin to dish out punishment. In short, Turpin was as much a 'hard case' in the gym as he was in the streets, and beyond his brothers, Dick and Jackie, there were few who dared to tie on a pair of gloves and give him a workout. But not fearless Mick Stack, who could not only hold his own, but he sometimes extended Turpin in a manner that others seldom could.
The Stack family were immigrants from County Cork, and Mick's older brother Willie had already enjoyed a relatively successful career as an international amateur. They were a plain-speaking, working-class family, and it was the sister, Mary Theresa Stack, who really attracted Randy's attention. As he had begun to climb up the amateur ranks he had started to spend more and more time with Mary, looking to creat
e with her the kind of domestic safety and comfort that was missing from his own turbulent upbringing. However, Mary Stack had grown up with two tough brothers, and she had learned how to raise her own voice and make clear what her own needs and demands were. In short, Mary Stack was no pushover, and while Randy may have intimidated some of the men and boys of Leamington Spa, Mary Stack had her own ideas on what she wanted and how she expected to be treated.
On 17 March, 1945, while still an amateur and on leave from the navy, and during his preparations for his first ABA final, seventeen-year-old 'Licker' Turpin was discovered in his mother's home collapsed on a sofa having clearly drunk some liniment. Beattie knew that her son had recently had a row with his girlfriend Mary Stack, but she tried not to get involved with his relations with girls. Beattie preferred to adopt the 'boys will be boys' philosophy and trust that in time all three of her lads would find themselves a nice girl and settle down. However, her youngest son was not only the most headstrong, she knew that he was also the most emotionally vulnerable. Seeing him lying semi-conscious on her sofa set off alarm bells that had been primed for years and she quickly called the doctor, and while she waited for his arrival she tried to revive Randy. Once the doctor arrived he realised that the patient was incapable of answering any questions and so he called an ambulance and had the young lad dispatched straight to the hospital. Questions as to how this 'accident' had occurred could be asked later.
Turpin was treated at Warwick Hospital, where they immediately pumped his stomach. However, once 'Licker' was left alone he sneaked out of the ward in his pyjamas and made his way back to his mother's house. The police soon arrived at Beattie's place to question her youngest son, but Turpin had once again 'escaped' out of a back window and into the night. After a short search, he was found hiding in a telephone box. Under interrogation 'Licker' admitted to the police that he had intended to kill himself by ingesting the liniment – 'I was fed up. That's why I took it.' The problem with his testimony was that prior to the Suicide Act of 1961 self-murder was a crime, and anyone who attempted and failed to kill themselves could be prosecuted and imprisoned. Irrespective of how depressed the young fighter might have been after a row with his girlfriend, he had, in fact, committed a serious offence. The following day he was charged at Warwick Magistrates' Court and remanded to appear the next week.
The few days' delay was absolutely crucial in terms of preparing a defence for the young fighter. His solicitor insisted that the first thing Turpin should do was to deny that there had been any intent on his part to commit suicide, and thereby effectively retract his confession. Thereafter, character witnesses were called to testify to the lad's stability and good nature. His former employer relayed how sorry he had been to lose young Turpin to the navy, while a representative from the Boys' Club insisted that success had not really spoiled the town's most promising sportsman. An officer from the Royal Navy, who travelled all the way from Portsmouth, was perhaps the most persuasive voice of all. He claimed that during his short service as an assistant cook, the young man had proved himself both reliable and modest. Furthermore, the boy was due to fight at Wembley in the ABA championships at the end of the following week. It made no sense that he would deliberately attempt to commit suicide when he had the whole world at his feet, and a bright and promising future before him. Mary Stack was neither called nor was she present in court, but despite the gravity of the situation Turpin felt at ease, for the pair of them had patched up their disagreement. Weighing all possible options, the bench decided that leniency was in order and, having issued a stern warning to Turpin, they bound the young fighter over to keep the peace and be of good behaviour for two years.
Two years later, in 1947, Randolph Turpin married Mary Stack. They were both teenagers, but their relationship had endured for some years and despite occasional irrational outbursts of emotion on both sides, to most locals they appeared to be well suited. After all, they had both grown up as 'outsiders' in the same town, they had many friends in common, and both families were familiar with each other. The Turpin-Stack white wedding took place at Leamington Spa's Catholic Church out of deference to the bride's family's beliefs, but Randy was so befuddled by the details of the ceremony that when the priest placed a small stool before him at the alter, he shifted it behind him and sat down. This caused his brother Jackie, who was seated in the front pew, no end of laughter, but Mary and her family were not amused. The priest took charge of the situation and leaned forward and whispered to the squatting bridegroom, 'You kneel on it.'
How well Randy and Mary were actually suited to each other was something that others, including Turpin's brothers, had their own ideas about. There was only one way of doing things to Randy's mind, and that was his way, and this had always been his modus operandi since he was a small child. However, as most people know, marriage involves both compromise and accommodation of the other person's views, but whatever else Randy felt for young Mary, he was sure that her first duty was to obey him. She soon became pregnant, and a son, Randolph Junior, was born in 1948, but by this stage things between the newly-weds had become increasingly ugly. Mary had already left her husband on a number of occasions, and fled back to her mother's house alleging assault and abuse. In June 1948, following a flare-up between Turpin and his mother-in-law, Mary left yet again and this time took a job at the local Marlborough Hotel, claiming that as far as she was concerned her marriage was over. After his wife's departure, training for professional fights, with all the focus and intensity that is necessary for success at this level, became increasingly problematic for Randy. He could dominate in the boxing ring, but outside of the ring he appeared to be just another voice among many to whom his wife seemed to pay attention. George Middleton and Randy's brothers worried that these days so much of 'Licker's' emotional energy seemed to be being spent trying to control Mary. It concerned them that perhaps this marriage might eventually cost him his boxing career, but they chose not to say anything to 'Licker', for any criticism was likely to be met with either silence, or abuse, or both.
A month later, on 12 July, 1948, Mary and Randy reconciled and she moved back into the family home on Wathen Road in Warwick. Her mother and her brothers, Willie and Mick, were disappointed with her decision, but they knew full well that their sister was as headstrong and difficult as any man and there was little point in arguing with her. Obviously it was her wilful personality that had, in the first place, attracted Turpin to Mary, however, as is so often the case, the very thing that drew him close to her eventually grew to frustrate him the most. Less than a month after their reconciliation, on 9 August, 1948, Turpin was summoned to appear at Warwick Magistrates' Court where Mary claimed that on 24 July he had viciously beaten her and caused her actual bodily harm. According to Mary's testimony, on that day the couple had attended a funfair in Leamington, but Mary had decided to catch an early train back to Warwick at 9:35 p.m. She then waited up for her husband to return, but she became increasingly concerned by his late arrival. According to her testimony, her husband eventually rolled in at 5:30 a.m, and when she asked him where he had been he took up a broom and beat her with it until the handle broke. Screaming that he should stop hitting her for she was pregnant with another child, his wife claimed that Turpin then began to kick her repeatedly in the stomach saying that he would 'soon fix that'.
The following morning the doctor visited, and having examined Mary Turpin he treated her for bruises to her stomach and groin. After the doctor's departure, Mary told the court that she did not immediately flee the house for Randolph Junior was unwell and she made a decision to wait until her son felt better. Once her son had regained his health she called a taxi and left Randolph Junior behind with a note which read: 'Dear Randolph, I am leaving you with the baby because you can look after it better than I can. I prefer being out at work and having evenings free. I can't be at work and looking after the baby at the same time.' According to Mary, the strange tone of the message can be explained by her claim that her h
usband had forced her at knifepoint to write the self-incriminating note before allowing her to flee the house. She characterised him as a habitually violent bully who never hesitated to use his fists upon her to settle any arguments that they might have. According to Mary Turpin, he was a man who might be the pride and joy of sports fans in the East Midlands, but behind that quiet, self-effacing exterior was a violent, insecure man who had never learned how to curb his temper or face up to any responsibilities.
When it was Turpin's turn to speak he told the court that he had once hit her, but he insisted that his wife had spent the greater part of their time together goading and baiting him. According to his testimony, she tried to make him lose his temper by accusing him of seeing other women, or by throwing things at him or, on one occasion, actually threatening him with a knife. Turpin steadfastly denied having had any affairs, although the evidence was overwhelming that he was a habitual offender, and eventually Mary felt that she had no choice but to produce a letter that was allegedly written by a girl named Pam. 'My own darling Randy,' it began, 'Just remember I love you and I will prove how much when I see you again.' It was signed 'Your ever loving Pam.' Turpin's solicitor claimed that although his client knew of the girl, he denied that Turpin had ever seen the letter. He then quickly changed the subject and claimed that it was a known fact that men who made their living hitting people knew how to keep their tempers in control out of the ring. He concluded that all the evidence pointed towards nothing more than a strained relationship between two young and inexperienced people. The magistrates, having examined the evidence, felt inclined to agree with Turpin's solicitor and they dismissed Mary Turpin's case against her husband.
Unfortunately, Turpin's victory in the courtroom was not matched by his performance in the ring. In the middle of this turbulence, in April 1948, having amassed an outstanding record of eighteen wins and one draw since his professional debut two years earlier, Turpin lost on points to a relatively unheralded journeyman named Albert Finch. The newspapers claimed that Turpin fought as though his heart was no longer in boxing, and they speculated that although his older brother Dick was his next logical opponent, it appeared as though there was some kind of agreement that the two would not fight one another. In fact, it was their mother, Beattie, who had drawn a promise from both Dick and Randy that they would never 'go at each other' for money, but his reluctance to fight his brother had not contributed towards Randy's loss of form. Those close to Turpin knew that the real reason behind the fighter's shocking capitulation to Finch was Turpin's frustration at his inability to persuade his wife to accede to his demands. In every other area of his life Turpin was able to insist that people follow his line, but there was something humiliating about his failure to control young Mary Stack, and it caused him anguish to the extent that he was incapable of fully concentrating on his boxing career.
Foreigners Page 9