Poole Harbour, with its many creeks and inlets running up into wide stretches of desolate heath, formed an almost ideal district for smuggling operations, whilst the thickly wooded chines and secluded stretches of sandy beach, extending from the harbour mouth at South Haven, past what was in those days the tiny hamlet of Bourne, half-hidden amid pine woods and heather-clad valleys, to the eastern point of the bay formed by Hengistbury Head near Christchurch, were also well adapted for the “running” of rich cargoes of silks, lace, tea, tobacco, and spirits.
Indeed, this wide extending stretch of yellow sand, with its numerous chines, or “bunnies,” and its devious and unfrequented paths running inland to the outskirts of the New Forest was the scene of not a few romantic, as well as desperate, encounters between the men of the preventive service and the local smugglers, and at the loftiest part of the westernmost cliffs of the bay—then more sheer than at the present time—there is a spot where a bold and famous smuggler held one of the revenue men head downwards whilst his comrades ran the cargo on the beach below, threatening the man that if he fired his pistol or gave any other alarm he should be dropped from the height on to the beach below.
It was, however, at Poole itself that one of the most historic and daring exploits of the south-coast smugglers took place.[D] In September of the year 1747 one John Diamond, or Dymar, agreed to purchase from a well-known gang of smugglers a large amount of tea then lying in Guernsey, awaiting conveyance to the English coast. This was safely shipped; but, unfortunately for the smugglers’ enterprise, the vessel whilst on its way up Channel, was sighted, chased, and captured by a revenue cutter commanded by a Captain Johnson. The cargo was seized, confiscated, and carried into Poole and lodged in the Custom House. This act on the part of the authorities so aroused the anger of the persons who had found a considerable sum of money for the undertaking that the famous gang of smugglers principally interested in the business came from distant Hawkhurst in Sussex, sixty or seventy strong, and armed to the teeth, for the purpose of attacking the Custom House on Poole Quay and recovering their property. They arrived in Poole by way of Lyndhurst about eleven o’clock one Tuesday night, and, having left some thirty of their number on the different roads, the remainder of the party stealthily entered the town by a back lane. Leaving their horses in charge of several of their comrades, they immediately proceeded to break open the Custom House in defiance of the preventive men, and succeeded in possessing themselves of the confiscated tea. This amounted to many bags, with which they loaded up the pack horses and rode off across the wild heatherland lying to the north-east of the town, till they came through Fordingbridge to the New Forest, and thence finally reached their haunts in Sussex.
[D] See “Smuggling and Smugglers in Sussex.”
On their journey home this armed band of desperadoes was seen by many people, and amongst the latter was one Daniel Chater, a shoemaker of Fordingbridge, who was recognized and given a pack of tea by Diamond, the leader of the smugglers. Possibly the gift was made in the hope of purchasing Chater’s silence; but, whatever its reason, it led to the most disastrous consequences for the recipient.
A reward was ultimately issued for the apprehension of the smugglers, and upon the fact that Chater could give important evidence of identification against the law-breakers becoming known, William Calley, a king’s officer, was sent to take Chater to be examined by Major Batten, J.P., of Sussex. Unfortunately for both the Customs officer and his companion, this intention became known, and on their way they were seized by a number of smugglers, and, after having been tortured and dragged from place to place, were brutally done to death.
Although the disappearance of the two men created a hue and cry, the fact of their murder was only made certain six months after by the confession of one of the smugglers concerned in it. Fifteen men were tried at Chichester, of whom six were hanged for the crime (another, John Jackson, dying almost immediately after sentence), three others were also executed for breaking open the Customs House at Poole, and of the rest the majority got terms of transportation or were sent into the Navy as a punishment.
Although this was undoubtedly the most famous deed of the smugglers in the neighbourhood of Poole, and the doings of the Hawkhurst gang have been enshrined in the pages of G. P. R. James’ old-fashioned but exciting romance, The Smuggler, it was by no means the only crime or romantic incident connected with contraband trade in the district during the latter half of the eighteenth and early part of the nineteenth centuries. How daring and impudent the smugglers of Poole and the immediate district became is borne out by the fact that it was recognized by the authorities that it was impossible for them to capture the band or seize the contraband goods without military assistance.
As late as the year 1835 we find a record that the Mary Ann of Poole entered the harbour, supposed to be laden with coal, but really engaged in running a cargo of spirits. Of the 600 tubs which were in her 400 were successfully landed ere the true character of her freight was suspected.
Although numerous other similar exploits could be related, and many interesting stories were current but a few years ago among the older folk of the district, with the advent of and growth of free trade and the increase of the population along the Dorset and Hampshire coasts, smuggling gradually declined, and at length the race of Poole smugglers became extinct.