Monday, May. 20, 1974
Renegade Debutante
She had everything that money could buy: a childhood spent romping on a 600-acre estate in western England, the right schools, a grand tour of Europe at the age of 14 and a trust fund set up by her wealthy, doting parents that yielded her thousands of dollars annually. Yet last week Bridget Rose Dugdale, 33-year-old daughter of a British insurance tycoon, was in jail--again. The blonde, Oxford-educated million-heiress was accused of masterminding and directing the largest art theft in recent history: last month's looting of 19 masterpieces, including paintings by Goya and Gainsborough, from the Irish manor home of Mining Heir Sir Alfred Beit.* The art works, valued at $20 million, were recovered intact two weeks ago in a remote cottage in County Cork, on the Irish coast, where police found both the paintings and Rose Dugdale. She had been sought by police in connection with Irish Republican Army terrorist operations and was thus additionally charged with smuggling firearms and explosives to the I.R.A. in Northern Ireland. At one point during her arraignment in Dublin last week, Rose shouted to spectators: "The British have an army of occupation in a small part of Ireland --but not for long!"
Rose Dugdale says that she began to loathe her parents' riches when she was a child. During her debutante days, she turned a fiery tongue and social conscience against some of the rituals of her upbringing. Rose recalled her coming-out ball in the late '50s as "one of those pornographic affairs which cost about what 60 old-age pensioners receive in six months." By her 18th birthday, Rose had renounced the finishing-school life she despised and was veering toward an intellectual and social-service career that would lead her even farther from her family and coddled background. After graduating from Oxford and earning a Ph.D. in economics from London University, Rose worked briefly as a government economist before devoting herself full time to helping the poor. In the working-class neighborhoods of Northeast London's seedy Tottenham district, Rose became a familiar figure, a tireless dispenser of charity (more than $40,000 from her own trust and stocks) who liked to affect an uneducated speaking style and disheveled appearance. She explained her generosity: "For years my family has been taking money from the poor. I'm just trying to restore the balance." It was during this period that Rose began living with a self-described "revolutionary socialist" and ex-convict named Walter Heaton, 43. The two made frequent trips together to Northern Ireland, where they marched in political demonstrations.
Last October Heaton and Rose were convicted of stealing $200,000 worth of paintings and silverware from the country home of Rose's parents. At the trial, Rose raged at her father, "I love you, but I hate everything you stand for!" Heaton was sent to jail for six years, but the judge let Rose off with a two-year suspended sentence and the observation that the risk of her committing any further crime was "extremely remote"--even though Rose warned the court that the verdict had turned her from "an intellectual recalcitrant into a freedom fighter."
Within months, Rose had roamed deeper into the violent politics of Northern Ireland and was being sought by police for I.R.A.--connected gunrunning and the attempted helicopter bombing of an Ulster police station. Rose was also suspected of being among a group who in March hijacked a police car in the Irish Republic. Police believe that she also helped write the ransom note demanding $1,250,000 plus the transfer of four jailed Irish terrorists from Britain to Ulster in return for the masterpieces stolen from Sir Alfred.
Said James F.C. Dugdale of his daughter: "I don't want to appear hardhearted, but I've done everything I can for her. She knows perfectly well she could turn to me if she wanted to." Her father's help may now be too late. If convicted on all ten counts of robbery and terrorism, she could be sentenced to ten years in prison.
* The largest previous art robbery was the theft in December 1966 from London's Dulwich College Museum of eight paintings valued at $7 million.
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