King's Cutters and Smugglers 1700-1855

FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XIVToC

SOME INTERESTING ENCOUNTERS

Rowing about on the night of Lady Day, 1813, a six-oared boat, which had been launched from the Custom House cutter Lion, was on the prowl in that bay which extends all the way from Dungeness to Folkestone. When the watchers in this craft were off Hythe, and only about a quarter of a mile from the shore, they saw coming along over the dark waters a lugsail boat with foresail and mizzen making towards Dymnchurch, which is just to the west of Hythe. It was about an hour before midnight, and as this suspicious craft did not come near to the Lion's boat the latter rowed towards her and hailed her.

"What boat is that?" they asked.

"A Folkestone boat," came back the answer.

Thereupon John Wellar, a deputed mariner in the Customs boat, shouted to the lugger to heave-to, for he guessed what the game was.

"Heave-to!" roared the lugger's master. "We'll see you d——d first!"

But the rowing-boat was not to be put off with mere insults, and quickly pulled up alongside the craft. One of the men in the Customs boat then stood up and looked into the lugger and remarked that she was full of kegs. Wellar therefore immediately jumped into her, followed by three or four of his men, and seized her. On board he found three men, and them also he secured. He further discovered 144 half-ankers of spirits, consisting of brandy and gin from across the Channel, which were subsequently taken to the Custom House at Dover. A little more than a year later, Robert Baker, the lugger's master, was brought before the judge and fined £100.

There was an interesting incident which occurred a few years later in the eastern corner of England, which led to trouble for a man named Henry Palmer of Harwich. This man was master and owner of a yawl named the Daisy, which belonged to Ipswich. About midday on the 22nd of March 1817, one of the Preventive officers, named Dennis Grubb, observed the Daisy sailing up the Orwell, which flows from Ipswich past Harwich and out into the North Sea. Grubb was in a six-oared galley, and about three-quarters of a mile below Levington Creek, which is on the starboard hand about a third of the way up the river between Harwich and Ipswich. With Grubb was another man, and on seeing the Daisy they began rowing towards her. Whether Grubb had any reason for suspecting her more than any other craft, whether he had received warning from an informer, cannot be stated. But what is true is that he was determined to have her examined.

However, notwithstanding that Palmer must have known perfectly well that this was a preventive boat, and that he was in duty bound to stop when hailed, it was obvious that, as soon as the galley came near, the Daisy instantly went about on the other tack and stood away from the boat. The latter in turn pulled after the yawl and was again approaching when the Daisy once more tacked and ran away. But at last the galley came up, and just as Grubb was in the act of stepping aboard, Palmer coolly remarked that he had some tubs aboard, following this up by the explanation that he had got them on the trawling ground. This was too obvious a lie to be believed for a moment.

Grubb accordingly inquired how it was that Palmer had come past Harwich since the latter was his home, to which he answered that he was bound for Ipswich, as there his vessel was registered. But inasmuch as there were two of the Revenue cutters as well as a guardship lying at the entrance to the river, how was it that he had not stopped to hand the tubs over to them? For either the Customs cutter Griper, or the Excise cutter Badger, would have been the ordinary receptacle, instead of waiting till a Preventive galley overtook the Daisy. When Grubb asked how Palmer had come by all these tubs he said that he had caught them in his trawl, whereupon the preventive man examined the net and found it damp but certainly not wet, as it would have been had Palmer's version been the truth. Furthermore, if these tubs had been caught in the trawl there would have been a number of holes torn, but Grubb found there to be no holes. There were no fewer than forty-eight of these tubs found on the Daisy—all half-ankers, and fitted with slings ready for landing—and inasmuch as it was clear that the net had not been lately used Palmer was obviously lying. The iron which, had it been dragged along the sea-bed, would have been polished bright with the sand, was actually not bright but rusty, thus proving that it had not been recently used.

Grubb therefore felt justified in arresting the yawl, and taking her and her tubs to the Custom House. Later on he made a thorough search of her, and found a creeping-iron which had five prongs and a long shank. The reader is well aware that such an implement was used by the smugglers but never found on board a genuine fishing-craft. For getting up sunken tubs it was essential, and for that purpose it was evidently on board the Daisy. Moreover, it was found to be both wet and polished bright as to its prongs, and there was still some wet mud sticking thereto.

The case, of course, duly came on to be tried, and the Attorney-General suggested that at that time, in nine cases out of every ten, the tubs of smuggled spirits were not brought directly to port but sunk at different places in the sea, located by landmarks and buoys, fishing-boats being sent out later on to get them by these creepers, and to bring them in by small quantities as opportunity permitted. Palmer's defence was that they had found the tubs just outside Harwich harbour, opposite to Landguard Fort, at about seven o'clock the previous evening. But it was a somewhat strange fact that though this fishing-vessel should have been out all night not a single fish was found on board. And when Palmer was asked how it was that if he had found these tubs, and had intended to hand them over to the Customs authorities, he had been so careful to stow them all below and not leave them on deck to be visible to the Griper and Badger as he passed? His reply, that he had put the tubs below lest a puff of wind might blow them overboard, somehow did not convince the judge, and the verdict went against him.

A curious instance of an abuse of office was seen in the occurrence which centred round a certain Mr. Thomas Moore Slade. Mr. Slade was Agent Victualler for the Chatham Victualling Office, and from his connection with that department he had the power of employing some of his Majesty's vessels belonging to the department. This gentleman got to know that a splendid collection of pictures was about to be dispersed in France. They were of great value both artistically and intrinsically, and had belonged to the late Duke of Orleans. Slade therefore, quite unjustifiably, determined to make use of one of the craft under his charge for the purpose of fetching these pictures into the country, and thus cheating the Government of its dues, which would have been very heavy in this transaction.

The way he went about it was to direct a man named Thomas Cheney, who commanded the sloop Grace (belonging to the King's Victualling Office), to get under way and proceed a certain distance from Chatham. After he had come out of the Medway and had reached the Nore he was to open a letter which Slade had given him, wherein he would find his instructions. The Grace in due course hoisted sails and anchor and found herself out by the Nore. On opening the letter, Cheney was surprised to find he was directed to proceed to Calais. He informed the crew, who were very indignant, as they had all thought they were bound for Deptford. So that night they put back to Sheerness and let go anchor. The following day, with a reluctant company on board, they started off again and reached Ramsgate, where they lay all night. On the third day they crossed the Channel and got into Calais Roads, anchored, and remained there all night.

It should be added that Slade had taken the precaution to put on board this sloop before she left England a Mr. Thomas Aldridge, an expert judge of pictures, his exact description for this voyage being as supercargo, a term which signifies an officer in a trading vessel whose duty it is to manage the sales and superintend all the commercial concerns of the voyage. Having arrived, then, off Calais, Cheney, Aldridge, and some of the crew proceeded ashore and, guided by the art expert, went to a certain Monsieur Dessein, who kept an hotel in that town. From him they obtained a large number of cases containing the Orleans collection, and brought them off to the Grace. Altogether there were no less than fifteen of these cases, and although the Grace was a vessel of some thirty-two tons burthen, yet the weight of these paintings was sufficiently great to lower her water-line a good six inches.

After this valuable cargo had been got aboard and stowed, a gale of wind sprang up and detained them for a few days, but at length they cleared from the French coast and steered for the Downs. From there they rounded the North Foreland, and after running up the Thames entered the Medway and let go at Gillingham until it was dark. But as soon as night had fallen they got going once more, and ran alongside the Victualling Wharf at Chatham. The pictures were brought up from the sloop and taken ashore by means of a crane, and then quietly carried into Mr. Slade's house. By this he had thus saved the cost both of carriage and of duty, the pictures being afterwards sold for a very large sum. However, this dishonest business at length leaked out, an action was brought against Slade, and a verdict was given for the King and for six pictures of the single value of twenty guineas.

On the evening of a November day in the year 1819, the Revenue cutter Badger, under the command of Captain Mercer, was cruising in the English Channel between Dungeness and Boulogne. About seven o'clock it was reported to the commander that about a quarter of a mile away there was a lugger steering about N.W. by W. towards the English coast. The Badger thereupon gave chase, but as she drew nearer and nearer the lugger altered her course many times. Carrying a smart press of canvas, the Badger, which was one of the fastest vessels employed in the Revenue, came up rapidly. As usual she fired her warning gun for the lugger to heave-to, but all the notice taken by the chased ship was to go about on the other tack and endeavour still to escape. But presently the cutter, running with the wind on her quarter and doing her eight knots to the lugger's four or five, came up to her foe so quickly as to run right past her. But before the Badger luffed up she hailed the lugger (whose name was afterwards found to be the Iris of Boulogne) and ordered her to heave-to.

"I be hove-to," answered back one of the lugger's crew in unmistakable English.

Meanwhile the Badger was hoisting up the galley in the rigging preparatory to launching, and the crew stood by ready to get in. As soon as the Badger had shot past, down went her helm and she came alongside the Iris as the galley was dropped into the leaden waters. But just at that moment the Badger's people overheard some men on the lugger exclaim, "Now's your time," whereupon the crew of the lugger also launched their boat, forsook the Iris, and began to row off as fast as they could. The Badger called to them—among whom was a man named Albert Hugnet—ordering them under pain of being shot to come alongside the cutter. They replied that they were coming, but that they could not find their thole-pins, saying that they had only two oars on one side and one oar on the other. This was said in English, and was obviously a mere excuse to gain time. Meanwhile the cutter's galley and men had come alongside the lugger, in which they found 110 half-ankers, containing 382 gallons of brandy, and 157 half-ankers of Geneva, 55 bags of tea, and 19 bags containing 355 lbs. of manufactured tobacco.

As the men of the Iris showed no signs of coming back, the prize-crew on the lugger hailed the Badger, giving information that the smugglers were escaping. "Lie close," came the command, so the cutter trimmed her sheets and went in pursuit, and fired some shots in the direction of the retreating boat. But it was no use, for the boat was quickly lost from sight among the waves and disappeared entirely. There was some sea on at the time, so no one among the Revenue men envied the Iris's crew their task of rowing across to Boulogne, a distance of somewhere about twenty-seven miles, in that weather and athwart very strong tides, with the certainty of having a worse time as the Ridens and the neighbourhood of Boulogne was approached. In fact the chief mate of the cutter remarked, some time after, though he had seen these tub-boats go across the sea in all weathers, and were splendidly seaworthy, yet he considered it was not very wise of the Iris's crew to risk it on such a night as that.

Convinced, then, that the men were making for France, the lugger, with her prize crew on board, presently sailed up after the cutter, hoping to come across their captives. But neither cutter nor lugger could find the men, and concluded, no doubt, that the tub-boat had foundered. But, at a later date, Albert Hugnet was arrested, and in the following June was brought to trial and punished. It then came out that the whole boat-load had escaped with their lives. For Andres Finshaw was called as evidence for the defence. He had been one of the lugger's crew, and showed that after rowing away that night they had not fetched across to the French coast, but having the good luck to find a French fishing-craft only a quarter of a mile away, they were taken aboard her and thus returned to France.

It was also brought out very clearly by the other side that when first seen the Iris was within nine miles of the English coast, and afterwards the Badger steered N.W. by W. towards the south of Dungeness, and after five and a half miles saw the Dungeness light and the South Foreland light, took cross-bearings of these, and having marked them off on the chart, fixed their position as about three miles from the coast. Thus when the lugger was first encountered the latter was about nine miles from the land.

The date of that incident, then, was the 12th of November, and Hugnet was not then captured. We may now pass over the next four weeks till we come to the 10th of December in that same year. At eight o'clock in the morning the Revenue cutter Eagle was cruising off the coast of Kent when she observed a lugger bearing about N.W. by N. from them. The lugger was under all sail and heading S.E. for Boulogne, having come out from East Dungeness Bay. The weather was thick, it was snowing, and no land was in sight, Dungeness being the nearest portion of the English coast.

It did not take long for the Eagle's commander to guess what was happening, especially when that bay was so notorious, and the cutter began to give chase, the wind being roughly N.W. But as the Eagle pursued, the lugger, as was the approved custom, hauled up and came on a wind, hoping to get away and outpace the cutter. But in this the smugglers were not successful, and eventually the Eagle overhauled her. The cutter's galley was now launched, and after having been for three-quarters of an hour rowed quickly by the aid of her eight men, the lugger was reached and hailed. The usual warning signal was fired from a musket in the boat and colours shown. The lugger, however, declined to heave-to as requested.

"If you don't heave-to," roared the chief mate of the Eagle, as he looked towards the helmsman, "we'll fire right into you." On this the lugger lowered her sails, the galley bumped alongside, and the chief mate and crew, pistols in hand, leapt aboard. "Where are you from?" asked the chief mate. The answer came in French, which the latter did not understand, but he thought they said they were bound from Bordeaux to Calais. If so, it was an obvious and foolish lie. Mr. Gray—for that was the mate's name—then inquired how many men were aboard, and the answer returned that there were seven. Gray then called the lugger's men aft, and separated the English from the foreign, and found there were five French and two English. The two latter, said the Frenchman (who was none other than Albert Hugnet, whom we spoke of just now), were just passengers. A few minutes later, the skipper contradicted himself and said there were not seven but nine, all told. Gray then proceeded to look for the other two, and jumped down forward into the forepeak. As the place was dark he put his cutlass in first and rummaged about. In a moment the cutlass brought up against something soft. Gray had struck a man, hiding there, on the legs and thighs.

He was called upon by the cutter's mate to come out, and instantly obeyed, fearing no doubt that the cutlass would assail him again if he didn't. As he emerged he was followed by another man, and another, and yet another; in fact from that dark hole there came out a procession of seven, all of whom were found to be Englishmen. It was noticeable that most, if not all, were dressed in short jackets and petticoat trousers. They were clearly sailors, and not landsmen—passengers or anything else. In plain language they were out-and-out smugglers. What was especially to be noted was the fact that their trousers were quite wet right up to their middles. In some cases their jackets were also wet up to their elbows. All this clearly pointed to the fact that they had not long since put off from the shore, where they had succeeded in landing a contraband cargo by wading from the lugger to the beach; and such a thick atmosphere as there was on the previous night must have made it highly convenient for them. Nevertheless, even for these weather-hardened seamen, it cannot have been altogether pleasant penned up in sopping clothes in a dark forepeak with an unseen cutlass waving about in their midst and seizure pending.

These men also Gray ordered to go aft, and put them together so that he might see how many altogether were English and how many French. It was found that there were nine of them English and five French. Taking possession of the helm, Gray let the sails draw and ran down to the Eagle, telling his prisoners he was going to get further instructions from his commander. There were no tubs found on the lugger, which was as might be expected, but there was a solitary hoop which had evidently come off whilst these tubs were being hauled out, and there were also found two pairs of slings which were universally employed for getting the half-ankers ashore. These slings were made of small line, and were passed round the circumference of the cask at its "bow" and "stern," sufficient line being left so that there were two lines, one to pass over each of a man's shoulders. These two lines could be joined to other two on another cask, and so each smuggler could land with one tub on his back and another on his chest, in much the same way as you see a sandwich-man carrying boards in the street.

On examining this lugger there was no bilge-water found in the forepeak, so those seven shivering men could not have made the excuse that the vessel was damp in that portion. To cut a long story short, the lugger was eventually taken into Harwich, having been discovered seventeen miles from the French coast and eleven from the English shore. Assuming the lugger had travelled at about four knots an hour, this would mean that she had started off from the English beach on her return journey about 5 A.M., the previous hours of the night having doubtless been spent in unloading the tubs somewhere between Folkestone and Dungeness or perhaps Rye. Thus Hugnet, having at last been caught, had to stand his trial for both this and the occurrence of the previous month. And a verdict in each case having been returned against him, his activities in running backwards and forwards across the English Channel were, for a time at least, considerably modified.

These tub-boats, which we have had cause to mention more than once, were usually not towed but carried on the lugger's deck. A tub-boat got its name from the fact that when the lugger was too big to run her nose on the beach the tubs were landed in these boats. For that reason they were made very deep, with plenty of high freeboard, and were accordingly wonderfully good sea-boats, though they were somewhat heavy to row even without their spirituous cargoes.

As one looks through the gaol-books and other smuggling records, one finds that there was a kind of hereditary custom that this running of contraband goods should pass on from father to son for generations. Thus there are constant repetitions, in different ages, of men bearing the same surname engaged in smuggling and becoming wonderfully notorious in this art. Among such family names must be mentioned that of Rattenbury. The man of whom we are about to speak was flourishing during the second decade of the nineteenth century, and his christian name was John. In November 1820—it is significant how often this dark month crops up in the history of smuggling, when the weather was not likely to tempt those Revenue cruisers' commanders, who preferred the snug shelter of some creek or harbour—John Rattenbury happened to find himself at Weymouth. Into that port also came a vessel named the Lyme Packet, which was accustomed to trade between Lyme and Guernsey. But on this occasion the ship had just received the misfortune of carrying away her bowsprit—possibly in the Portland Race—and her master, John Cawley, decided to run into Weymouth for repairs.

Whilst these were being taken in hand what should be more natural than that the Lyme Packet's master should drift into a local public-house? Having brought up comfortably in that haven of rest, he was promptly discovered by his old friend Rattenbury, who had also made for the same house of refreshment. The usual greetings took place, and Rattenbury inquired how it was that Cawley came to be there, and an explanation of the accident followed. According to the skipper's own version, they got into conversation, and, over a glass of grog, Rattenbury volunteered the remark that if Cawley would be willing to sail across to Cherbourg to fetch a cargo of spirits he would pay him at a rate that would make it much more profitable than trading between Lyme and Guernsey. In fact he was willing to pay Cawley as much as twelve shillings a cask, adding that in one voyage this skipper, who happened also to be owner, would make more money thereby than in the regular course of trade in a twelvemonth.

Such a proposition was more than a tempting one, and Cawley gave the matter his attention. Unable to resist the idea, he acquiesced, it being agreed that Rattenbury should accompany him to France, where they would take in a cargo of spirits, Cawley to be paid his twelve shillings for every cask they were able to bring across. So, as soon as the bowsprit was repaired and set in its place, the Lyme Packet cast off her warps and ran out of Weymouth harbour. She made direct for Cherbourg, where they anchored in the roadstead. Rattenbury now went ashore and returned accompanied by 227 casks of spirits made up in half-ankers. These were put on board and the voyage back to England commenced, the intention being to make for West Bay and land the goods somewhere near Sidmouth. Having arrived off the Devonshire coast, Rattenbury took the Lyme Packet's boat and rowed himself ashore, landing at Beer Head, his object being to get assistance from the men of Sidmouth for landing his goods. It was then about 1 A.M. The captain of the Lyme Packet kept his ship standing off and on during the night, and hovered about that part of the coast till daybreak. But as Rattenbury had not returned by the time the daylight had come back, Cawley became more than a little nervous and feared lest he might be detected. Before very long—the exact time was 6.30 A.M.—Robert Aleward, a mariner on the Revenue cutter Scourge, on turning his eye into a certain direction not more than three miles away, espied this Lyme Packet, informed his commander, and a chase was promptly begun. Cawley, too, saw that the Lyme Packet had been observed, and began to make preparations accordingly.

He let draw his sheets, got the Lyme Packet to foot it as fast as she could, and as the three intervening miles became shorter and shorter he busied himself by throwing his casks of spirits overboard as quickly as he and his crew knew how. The distant sail he had noticed in the early morning had all too truly turned out to be the Revenue cutter, but he hoped yet to escape or at any rate to be found with nothing contraband on board. It was no good, however, for the cruiser soon came up, and as fast as the Lyme Packet had dropped over the half-ankers, so quickly did the Scourge's men pick them up again in the cutter's boats. Having come up alongside, the cutter's commander, Captain M'Lean, went on board, seized Cawley and his ship as prisoners, and eventually took both into Exmouth.

Judicial proceedings followed with a verdict for the King, so that what with a broken bowsprit and the loss of time, cargo, ship, and liberty the voyage had in nowise been profitable to Cawley.

CHAPTER XVToC

A TRAGIC INCIDENT

And now we must turn to an occurrence that was rather more tragic than the last, though the smugglers had only themselves to blame.

The reader is already aware of the practice existing at this time of actually rowing contraband across from France to England in large boats pulling four or more oars. As one who have myself rowed a craft most of the way from Calais to Dover in a flat calm, I cannot altogether envy the smugglers their job. However, on May 11, 1818, Captain Hawtayne, commanding H.M.S. Florida, was cruising in the English Channel on the look-out for contraband craft. Evidently he had received certain information, for at eight o'clock that evening he ordered Mr. Keith Stewart, master's mate, to man one of the ship's boats and to intercept any boat that might leave the French coast that looked at all of a suspicious nature.

This order was duly obeyed. A galley was observed some time before, which had no doubt aroused Captain Hawtayne's suspicions. This galley had been seen to come out of Calais harbour and to be rowed towards the westward. But she must have spotted the Florida, for she very shortly put back. But before long Mr. Stewart's boat fell in with another craft—a long white galley named the St. Thomas. This was now about 1 A.M., and for a time the St. Thomas had the impudence to pretend she was a French police boat. When descried she was about five or six miles to the N.N.W. of Cape Blanc Nez, and was steering to the westward. The night was dark, for the moon had disappeared behind a cloud as Mr. Stewart's boat came up alongside and hailed the strange craft. He began by asking what boat she was. The steersman replied by inquiring what boat Mr. Stewart's was. The latter answered that it was the King's boat.

At that time the St. Thomas's sails were up, and now Mr. Stewart ordered the steersman to lower them. He made no answer, but, turning round to his crew exhorted them to pull quickly, saying, "Give way, my boys, give way." Thereupon the smugglers cheered and pulled as hard as they could. Mr. Stewart again ordered the steersman to lower sail, adding that should he fail to do so he would fire at him. But this did not awe the St. Thomas. "Fire and be damned," answered the steersman. "If you fire, I will fire. We are as well armed as you are." Stewart held his hand and did not fire, but ordered his men to pull closer. Coming alongside, he addressed the steersman, saying it was absolutely essential that he should examine the St. Thomas and that he knew they were Englishmen, adding that he was unwilling that there should be any bloodshed by firing into the boat.

With this the Florida's boat pulled up on the other's quarter, and the bowmen hooked on with the boat-hook. The St. Thomas's steersman knocked the boat-hook away and threatened to shoot the bowman if he did not let go. For a short time thereafter the boats separated and drifted apart. But a second time his Majesty's boat pulled up alongside, and Mr. Stewart jumped forward into the bows and ordered one of his own men to stand by ready to accompany him on board. The steersman of the other, however, was determined, and resisted Stewart's attempt, at the same time presenting a pistol and threatening to shoot the officer if he advanced one step further.

On that the men of St. Thomas ceased rowing, drew in their oars, and rushed aft to where the steersman was standing in the stern. Matters began to look ugly, and being convinced that these men were bent on desperate resistance, Mr. Stewart was compelled to fire with his pistol at the steersman, who immediately fell. Stewart instantly leapt aboard, but was nearly jostled into the sea by two of the enemy. He ordered the whole of this crew to go forward, but they declined to obey, and followed this up by threatening that if they still refused he would have to use his sword and cut them down. The only member of his own crew who had already got aboard as well was his coxswain, and owing either to himself or the action of the coxswain in stepping from one boat to the other, the two craft had drifted apart, and for a time there was considerable risk that the men, who were obvious smugglers, would fall on these two. But the naval officer had already cut down two of their number with his sword, and after that the rest went forward and were obedient. The St. Thomas was rather a large craft of her kind. Additional to her sails, she rowed five on one side, six on the other, and also had a steersman, the additional oarsman being no doubt placed according to the tide so that his work might in some measure counteract the great leeway which is made by small vessels crossing the strong tidal stream of the English Channel.

As all was now quiet on board, Mr. Stewart searched her and found she was laden with kegs, which, said the crew, were filled with tea and tobacco, these kegs being as usual already slung for putting ashore or sinking. Later on it was found that out of this crew no less than six were English, besides one man who had been born at Flushing of English parentage, though he called himself a Dutchman. The rest were all foreigners. No one can read such an incident as this without regretting that they should have ever led to slaughter. It is a serious thing to take any man's life when there is no warfare, and it is still more dismal if that man is of the same nationality as the one who deals death. If the whole of the St. Thomas's crew had been killed there could have been no blame on Mr. Stewart, for he was only carrying out his orders and acting in self-defence. The smugglers were fully aware they were in the wrong, and they were responsible for any consequences that might accrue. The officer had given them ample warning, and he had only used severe measures when absolutely compelled.

But there is a more satisfactory side to this regrettable incident, which one is only too glad to be able to record. The man who had been so badly wounded desired to speak to Mr. Stewart, and when the latter had approached him he turned to him and said:

"You've killed me; sir, I'm dying."

Mr. Stewart saw that this was perfectly true, and that the man was in no sense exaggerating.

"Well, I'm sorry for it," he said, "but it was your own fault."

"Yes," answered the dying man, "I know that, but I hope you won't make things worse than they are. I freely forgive you."

This was the steersman who had so strenuously opposed the boarding of the St. Thomas. We can quite sympathise with the feelings of Mr. Stewart, and be thankful that those lawless days of violence have long since passed. If you talk with any of the Revenue officers still living who were employed in arresting, lying in wait for, receiving information concerning, and sometimes having a smart fight with the smugglers, you will be told how altogether hateful it was to have to perform such a duty. It is such incidents as the above which knock all romance out of the smuggling incidents. An encounter with fisticuffs, a few hard blows, and an arrest after a smart chase or a daring artifice, whilst not lessening the guilt of smuggling, cannot take away our interest. Our sympathies all the time are with the Revenue men, because they have on their side right, and in the long-run right must eventually conquer might. But, as against this, the poorer classes in those days were depressed in ignorance with low ideals, and lacking many of the privileges which no thinking man to-day would refuse them. And because they were so daring and so persistent, because they had so much to lose and (comparatively speaking) so little really to gain, we extend to them a portion of our sympathy and a large measure of our interest. They were entirely in the wrong, but they had the right stuff in them for making the best kind of English sailormen, the men who helped to win our country's battles, and to make her what she is to-day as the owner of a proud position in the world of nations.

Ten of these twelve men were taken as prisoners to the Florida, and the St. Thomas with her cargo still aboard were towed by the Florida into Yarmouth Roads, and there delivered to the Collector of Customs. She was found to be a 54-foot galley—a tremendous length for an oared craft—with no deck, and rigged with three lugsails and jib, her size working out at about 11 tons burthen. On delivering the cargo at Yarmouth it was found that there were altogether 207 kegs. The ten uninjured prisoners were taken before the Yarmouth magistrates, and the two whom the officer had cut down were sent on shore immediately the Florida arrived in that port. The English steersman, to whose case we call special attention, died, two others were fined £100 each, two were sent to gaol, and one, who was the son of the man who died, was liberated, as it was shown that he had only been a passenger. The man who had been born of English parents at Flushing was also set free, as the magistrates had not sufficient proof that he was a British subject.

A few months prior to the above occurrence Lieutenant John Wood Rouse was in command of his Majesty's schooner Pioneer. On the 11th of January 1817 he was cruising between Dungeness and Point St. Quintin, when his attention was drawn to a lugger whose name we may state by anticipation was the Wasp. She appeared to be making for the English coast on a N.W. bearing, and was distant about six miles. In order to cut her off and prevent her from making the shore Lieutenant Rouse sent one of his men named Case with a galley to cross her bows. At the same time he also despatched another of his boats under the care of a Mr. Walton to make directly for the lugger. This occurred about 10 A.M., and the chase continued till about 3.45 P.M., when the schooner came alongside the lugger that had, by this time, been seized by Mr. Case. Lieutenant Rouse was then careful to take bearings of the land, and fixed his position so that there should be no dispute as to whether the lugger were seized within the legal limits.

On capturing the lugger, only two persons were found on board, and these were at once transferred to the Pioneer. To show what liars these smugglers could become, one of these two said he was a Frenchman, but his name was the very British-sounding William Stevenson. The other said he was a Dutchman. Stevenson could speak not a word of French, but he understood English perfectly, and said that part of the cargo was intended for England and part for Ireland, which happened to be the truth, as we shall see presently. He also added that of the crew of eight three were Dutchmen and five English, for he had by now forgotten his own alleged nationality.

Prior to the arrival of Mr. Case's boat the lugger had hoisted out her tub-boat and rowed away as fast as the waves would let her, with all the crew except these two. She was found to have a cargo of tobacco and tea, as well as Geneva, all being made up into suitable dimensions for landing. On examining the ship's papers it was indicated that she was bound for Bilbao in Spain. But these papers had evidently been obtained in readiness for such an occurrence as the advent of the schooner. When it is mentioned that this lugger was only a large galley with absolutely no deck whatever, and capable of being rowed by ten men, it was hardly credible that she would be the kind of craft to sail round Ushant and across the Bay of Biscay. "Was she calculated to carry a cargo to Spain?" asked counsel at the trial two years later. "I will risk my experience as a sailor," answered one of the witnesses, "that I would not have risked my life in a boat of that description."

But, unfortunately for the smugglers, there was discovered on board a tin box which absolutely gave their case away. In this tin box was found an instructive memorandum which it requires no very great ingenuity to decipher, and ran something as follows:—

Now anyone on consulting a chart or map of the south-west and west of the British Isles can easily see that the above was just a crude form of sailing directions to guide the ship to land the goods at various places in Ireland, especially when the box also contained a paper to the following effect:—

The ship was to take such goods as mentioned to the above individuals, and here were the landmarks and courses and the division of the goods. "A proportion of G," of course, referred to the amount of Geneva, but the gentleman for whom it was intended did not get it "as strong as possible." Not one of these places mentioned was within hundreds of miles of Bilbao, but all the seamarks were to guide the mariners to Ireland. Tara Hill, Tuscar Rock and so on were certainly not Spanish. But these instructions were by no means uncommon. They were technically known among smugglers as "spot-notes," that is to say, indications of the spots where the goods were to be landed. When Stevenson found that his captors had become possessed of these papers he was considerably confused and embarrassed, even going so far as to ask for them to be given back to him—a request which was naturally declined.

The lugger was taken captive into Dover, and Stevenson, being an Englishman, was committed to gaol in the Dover town prison, from which he succeeded in escaping. The Dutchman was let off, as he was a foreigner. The men who had rowed away in the tub-boat escaped to France, having taken with them out of the galley one parcel of bandanna handkerchiefs. The rule in these cases was to fine the culprit £100 if he was a landsman; but if he was a sailor he was impressed into the Navy for a period of five years.

There must be many a reader who is familiar with some of those delightful creeks of Devonshire and Cornwall, and has been struck with the natural facilities which are offered to anyone with a leaning for smuggling. Among these there will rise to the imagination that beautiful inlet on whose left bank stands Salcombe. Towards the end of June in the year 1818 William Webber, one of the Riding officers, received information that some spirits had been successfully run ashore at the mouth of this harbour, "a place," remarked a legal luminary of that time, "which is very often made the spot for landing" this class of goods.

Webber therefore obtained the assistance of a private in the 15th Regiment, and early in the evening, as he had been informed that the goods were not yet carried away, but still were lying deposited somewhere near the beach, proceeded to the spot. He and the hussar arrived at the place about nine o'clock on this June evening and managed to conceal themselves behind a hedge. They had not very long to wait before they heard the sound of some men talking, and a man named James Thomas was observed to remark:

"We couldn't have had a better time for smuggling if we had lain abed and prayed for it."

Through the openings in the hedge Webber and the hussar could see the outline of the delinquent, and the voice was more than familiar to the Riding officer. We can readily appreciate Thomas's ecstasy when we remark that it had now become rather dark and a sea-haze such as frequently comes up in fine weather after a hot day was beginning to spread itself around. For some time longer the two men continued to remain in their hiding-place, and then heard that Thomas and his accomplice had become joined by a number of other people. The sound of horses' hoofs being led down to the beach was also distinctly heard, and there were many signs of accelerated activity going on. Presently there came upon the ears of the Riding officers the noise which proceeds from the rattling of casks, and from some convenient hiding-place, where they had remained, these were at last brought forth, slings were prepared, and then the load was placed on the backs of the several horses.

At this point, deeming that the time had come to interfere, the Riding officer and the hussar crept out from their place of concealment and advanced towards the band of smugglers. But, alert as hares, the latter, so soon as they realised their own danger, took to their heels and ran helter-skelter away. Thomas, however, was too wrath to hasten, and began to curse his men. He began by complaining that the kegs which had been brought forth were wonderfully "slack," that is to say they were not as full as they might have been, hinting that someone had been helping himself to their contents of spirits. "If you had brought these a little sooner," referring doubtless to both horses and casks, "we should have been three miles on our way home."

But scarcely had he finished his sentence than the last of his band had fled, leaving him behind with both horses and casks. He was promptly arrested and eleven months later prosecuted by the Attorney-General.

Because the smugglers were so frequently assisted in their work by those night signals to which we alluded some time back it had been made a penal offence to show a light for the purpose of signalling within six miles of the coast. Arising out of such an offence, John Newton and another found themselves prosecuted for an incident that occurred about the middle of December 1819. The comparative seclusion of that big bight which extends from the Bill of Portland to the promontory well known to many readers as Hope's or Pope's Nose, was much favoured by the smuggling fraternity. This West Bay was well out of the English Channel and the track of most of his Majesty's ships, and there were plenty of hills and high ground from which to show friendly signals to their comrades. Rattenbury and Cawley, as we related, had in vain tried to land their cargo hereabouts, though there were many others who, before the Revenue cutters became smarter at their duty, had been able to run considerable quantities of dutiable goods in the vicinity of Sidmouth and Lyme.

On the afternoon of this winter's day two small sailing craft had been noticed by the Preventive shore officers to be tacking about near the land, but did not appear to be engaged in fishing. It was therefore reasonably supposed they were about to run some contraband ashore after dark. A Mr. Samuel Stagg and a Mr. Joseph Pratt, stationed at Sidmouth in the Preventive service, were all the time keeping a smart look-out on these boats, and somewhere about five o'clock in the evening launched their oared-cutter and rowed off towards them. After a chase they came alongside the first, which was named the Nimble, and boarded her. They found therein three men consisting of John Newton, John Bartlett, and Thomas Westlake; but as they searched her and found no trace of any casks or packages of tobacco, the Preventive men left her to row after the other craft. It was now, of course, quite dark, and there was blowing a nice sailing breeze. Scarcely had they started to row away before the Nimble hoisted sail and by means of flint and steel began to make fire-signals, and kept on so doing for the next half hour. This was, of course, a signal for the second boat, and as soon as the latter observed these signs she also made sail and hurried away into the darkness of the bay. It was impossible for the officers to get up to her, for they would stand every chance of losing themselves in the vast expanse of West Bay, and the craft might take it into her head to run down Channel perhaps into Cornwall or eastwards round to Portland, where goods often were landed. Therefore deeming one craft in arrest to be worth two sailing about in West Bay, they went back and seized the Nimble. The three men, whose names we have given, were taken ashore, tried, and found guilty. But as illustrative of the times it is worth noting that John Bartlett had before this occurrence actually been engaged for some time as one of the crew of that Revenue cutter about which we spoke some time back in this very bay. And so, now, "for having on the high seas, within six miles of the coast, made a certain light on board a boat for the purpose of giving a signal to a certain person or persons," he was, in company with his two colleagues, condemned.

That the age of lawless mobs was by no means past, may be seen from the incident which now follows. It had been thought that the Act which had been passed, forbidding any boat built to row with more than four oars, would have put a considerable check to activities of the smugglers. But these boats not only continued to be built, but also to be navigated and used for the contraband purposes. The Revenue officers of the district of Christchurch, Hants, had reason in April of 1821 to believe that a boat was being constructed in their neighbourhood of such dimensions and capable of being rowed with such a number of oars as made her liable to seizure. Therefore, taking with them a couple of dragoons, two of these Revenue officers proceeded on their way to the district near Milton, which is, roughly speaking, the centre of that bay which is bounded on one side by Christchurch Head, and on the other by Hurst Point. They had not arrived long at their destination before it was found that about thirty men had concealed themselves in an adjoining wood. The officers had found the boat they were looking for in a meadow, and were about to seize it.

It was found to be covered over with sails, having been hidden in the meadow for safety's sake, for since it was made to row seven aside it was clearly liable to forfeiture. One of the two officers now went off to fetch assistance, and whilst he was away two of the smugglers came forth and fraternising with the two dragoons, offered them some brandy which they drank. In a short while both soldiers had taken such a quantity of the spirits that they became utterly intoxicated and helpless. One of the two smugglers then gave a whistle, and about thirty men issued forth from the wood, some of them in various forms of disguise. One had a deer's skin over his face, others had their faces and hands coloured with blue clay and other means. These men angrily demanded from the solitary officer the sails which he had removed from the boat, but their requests were met by refusal. The mob then seized hold of the sails, and a tussle followed, whereupon the officer threatened to shoot them. He managed to retain hold of one sail, while the mob held the other and took it away.

About three o'clock in the afternoon the other officer returned with the Lymington Preventive officer, two Custom House men, and three dragoons. They found the intoxicated soldiers, one of whom was lying prostrate on the field, while the other was ludicrously and vainly endeavouring to mount his horse. The seven men now united, and got a rope by which they began to remove the boat from its hiding-place, when a great many more people came on to the scene in great indignation. As many as fifty, at least, were now assembled, and threats and oaths were bandied about. During this excitement some of the crowd cut the rope, while a man named Thomas Vye jumped into the boat, and rather than see her fall into the hands of the enemy, endeavoured to stave her in.

The remainder of the story is but brief. For, at last, the seven men succeeded in pulling the boat away in spite of all the crowd's efforts, and dragged it even across a couple of fields, where there was a road. Here a conveyance was waiting ready, and thus the boat was taken away, and at a later date Vye was duly prosecuted by the Crown for his share in the proceedings.