The strangest thing about smuggling is that all classes of people were engaged in it—sailors, soldiers, fishermen, justices of the peace, and even clergymen! When a village depended almost entirely for its trade upon the illicit running of goods, perhaps it is not to be wondered at that the parson had his sympathies with his parishioners.
A good instance of this is to be found in the story of the smugglers of Morwenstowe, Cornwall. A visitor from an inland town, strolling along the beach, stumbled upon the scene of a “landing” one evening. The ship lying in the offing, the boats hurrying to the beach laden with kegs of brandy, the people lining the shore, waiting to roll the kegs away to safety, soon made him realise what was afoot; and, being honest, he was staggered. And being also very temperate, he was shocked to see men knocking in the heads of kegs and taking their fill of brandy, and becoming so far intoxicated as to quarrel amongst themselves.
“What a horrible sight! Have you no shame?” he cried, addressing the crowd in general. “Is there no magistrate at hand? Cannot any justice of the peace be found in this fearful country?”
“No, thanks be to God!” came the answer from somewhere amongst the busy crowd. “None within eight miles.”
“Well, then,” exclaimed the visitor, “is there no clergyman hereabout? Does no minister of the parish live among you?”
“Aye, to be sure there is,” was the reply.
“Well, how far off does he live? Where is he?” asked the virtuous gentleman, who next moment received another shock.
“There! That’s he, sir—yonder with the lanthorn,” was the answer that came to him; and looking in the direction indicated, he saw a venerable-looking man, in his parson’s clothes, holding the light while his parishioners worked at robbing the State!
When smuggling began it would be hard to say, except that one would be safe in supposing that as soon as a thing was taxed attempts were made to slip it into the country untaxed. As, however, it is not intended here to try to outline the history of smuggling, we need not worry about that, but content ourselves with picking out here and there some of the choice passages from the history.
Something historical, however, must be allowed to intrude, because it had a great bearing upon smuggling; and that is, that prior to 1816 there were no systematic attempts made to prevent the illicit importation of taxed goods. True, the Government had excise men and revenue cutters on guard; but they were all too few, owing chiefly to the fact that the great wars of the eighteenth century took up most of the men, while the general slackness tended to make it fairly easy for the “free trader,” as he was called, to slip into some cove and unload his illegal cargo. Sometimes, indeed, the revenue men themselves had lapses and “ran” goods in on their own account! In 1816, however, following the conclusion of the great peace, the Government instituted a regular system of smuggling prevention. Kent and Sussex having been the favourite playground of the smugglers, the coasts of these two counties were blockaded. A man-o’-war, the Hyperion, was stationed at Newhaven, in Sussex, and the Ramilles in the Downs, off Kent; and the martello towers which had been erected along the coasts against the coming of Napoleon’s armies were used to house their crews. To all intents and purposes these sailors were the first coastguards, and in due course the system of blockading was carried out all round the coasts of Britain, chiefly by means of the revenue men and cutters. On these the Government drew, and duly formed the “Preventive Water Guard,” whose crews were stationed at certain spots along the coasts to keep watch and ward day and night.