FOOTNOTES:
[1] How came it to pass that the Russians were allowed to cross the Balkans? How was it that they were allowed to take possession so easily of the Schipka Pass? Did the personages who so soon afterwards disappeared mysteriously and were never heard of again yield up this stronghold to the possessors of a golden key? Poor Turkey!
Fair Trade and Foul Play
Smuggling at the beginning of the nineteenth century, and right up to the middle of it, was rampant, and was regarded as a wholesome profession by those who carried it on. They called it "fair trade," and looked upon those whose duty it was to destroy it with an aversion that oftentimes culminated in murderous conflict. The seafaring portion of this strange body of men, in characteristic contrast to their "landlubber" accomplices, never at any time, or under any circumstances, tried to conceal what their profession was. They were proud to be known as smugglers; whereas their shore colleagues, many of whom were gentry, or offshoots from it, adopted every possible means to turn suspicion from themselves when the preventive men were on the scent. Smugglers of that day were adroit tacticians; they had their signs just as Freemasons or any other craft have theirs. The pursuit was exciting, and the romance of it attracted men and women of gentle as well as of humble birth into its ranks. The men who manned the luggers were sailors who knew every bay and nook round the coast. They made heroic speeches expressive of their contempt for death. They talked boldly of powder magazines, and of blowing themselves and any one else up who put them into a tight corner; and there are instances on record that this was actually done. Be that as it may, they had great organizing skill and not a little business ability, whilst in their combination of strategy and valour they were unsurpassed. In many ways they were akin to pirates, though it could never be said that they went outside their own particular business—i.e., they were not predatory buccaneers who murdered first and plundered afterwards. They believed, as I have said, their calling to be as legitimate as any other form of trading. Their doctrine was that it was the Government that acted illegally, and not themselves. It was not surprising, therefore, that the system should take so long a time to wipe out, notwithstanding the rigid way in which the whole coastline of the British Isles was guarded. Much has been written about the desperate ways of these men, but no accurate estimate can be formed by the present generation of the extent of the system, and the methods adopted to carry it on. Romance has gone far, but rarely too far, in describing it; and to really know it as it was you must have lived in its atmosphere, or have taken part, either for or against, in its attractions. One of the greatest ambitions of my early boyhood days comes to me now. I had resolved that when I grew up I would secretly leave my home and join some smuggling lugger. Happily for me, the luggers had disappeared before I grew up.
Here is an authentic instance of professional attachment and pride. When I was quite a small boy a brig ran on to the rocks beneath my father's house. The captain was a fine, rollicking, sailorly-looking man, with a fascinating manner. He often came to our house during his stay in the locality, and one of the first things he told my parents was that in his younger days he was a smuggler, and had had many encounters with Deal coastguards. He spoke sadly of the way the "trade" was ruined by Government intervention, and said that he had never been really settled or happy since he was driven out of the business, and had to take service in the merchant navy for a living. He was asked if he would like to go back to it again.
"Go back to it again!" said he; "I wish I could! There is nothing to fill its place in the whole world. But that is done for now. Oh! what good money we used to make, and what narrow squeaks we had of being captured or killed."
It seems incredible that so great a change should have taken place in so short a time, considering that these sea-rovers were so firmly persuaded that their profession was as lawful as any other, and that they were persecuted and hounded to death by a set of whippersnappers who made insufferable laws! The system became so gigantic in the early part of last century that the Government had to appeal to the Navy, and a large number of officers and men were landed on the coast of Kent and Sussex, where a strict blockade was enforced. Later, a semi-civilian force under the control of the Customs was formed. This was called the "Preventive Water Guard," and subsequently it went under the new title of "Preventive Coastguard." The duties were arduous and risky. The men never went forth unless armed with a big dagger-stick and a flint-lock pistol, both of which were not infrequently used with effect. Owing to the dangerous character of the occupation, a high wage and pension was offered as an inducement to join the service; at least, the wage and pension were considered very good at the time. The men, however, rarely had decent houses to live in. Their uniform was rather like that of a naval officer. They would have disdained wearing the garb of the present-day coastguard. Their training in most cases consisted in service aboard a Revenue cutter for a few months before being appointed to a station. Many of these men were tradesmen who had never been to sea at all, and often were men of education and sterling character. For the most part these educated men were Wesleyans—or "Ranters," as they were called—and not a few were local preachers, and some of them were well versed in theology. They were stationed usually eight miles apart, right along the coast, and their ordinary duty was to meet each other half-way and exchange despatches. This gave the religious section opportunities of comparing experiences and discussing the faith that was in them. I knew one who spoke and taught French and Latin, another who could make an accurate abstract of Bishop Butler's Analogy from cover to cover, and another who became possessed of a small schooner, which made him a fortune while he was still in the service. The wives of these three coastguardsmen were quite as well informed and as ardent religionists as themselves, and took a common interest in books, educational matters, and in each other's home affairs. Their homes were always neat and clean, and the children were disciplined into a rigid, methodical life. It is a remarkable fact that the sons of each of these men have all risen to high positions in commerce, literature, art, and politics, and those that still survive are proud to acknowledge that they owe their position to the splendid example and beautiful home-life which they were taught to live when children. Guarding the coast was not the only occupation of the Preventive Coastguard.
There arose in 1848 a manning difficulty in the Navy, which became so grave that the large force of disciplined men employed in protecting the revenue were drilled in gunnery to fit them for sea service. Many of them were called out to serve aboard ship during the war with Russia in 1854. One of the grievances in the service was the irritating and unfair policy of the Board of Customs in constantly moving the men from one station to another. In many instances the hardships constituted a public scandal. Adequate recompense was never made for this breaking-up of their little homes, and frequently when they arrived at some outlandish coast village there was no provision made for housing them. I know of several instances where families were beholden to the generosity of the villagers or farmers for lodgings until a house was found. During the interval their furniture was stored in some dirty stable or store. It was not an uncommon thing for these poor fellows to be removed, with their families, from one end of England to the other two or three times in a year, at the behest of an uneasy bureaucratic commander-in-chief who knew little, and probably cared less, about the domestic hardships incurred. From Holy Island or Spital to Deal in those days of transit by sea was a greater and more hazardous voyage than that of Liverpool to New York to-day. The following story may give some idea of their life as they then lived it.
A group of fishermen stood at the north end of the row, watching a smart cutter that was beating from the north against a strong S.S.E. wind and heavy sea, which broke heavily on the beach and over an outlying reef of rocks which forms a natural breakwater and shelters the fishermen's cobles from the strong winds that blow in from the sea during the winter months. The cutter tacked close in to the north end of the ridge several times during the forenoon. Her appearance was that of a Government vessel, and her commander evidently wished to communicate with the shore. When the ensign was hoisted to the main gaff, the onlookers knew that she did not belong to the merchant service. The simple people who inhabited this district were concerned about the intentions of what they regarded as a mysterious visitor, and the firing of a small cannon from the taffrail did not lessen their perplexity. At last the national flag was hauled up and down, and the squire, who had come from his mansion amongst the woods, told the fishermen that those aboard the cutter were really asking for a boat to be sent to them.