The Boy's Book of the Sea

by Eric Wood

It would seem that on a certain night a cargo was to be run, and one by one, at this inn and the other, men gathered to await the coming of night. When twilight fell, men were posted at different points of the cliff to keep a look-out for a revenue cutter, and in the event of one coming, to endeavour to warn the men bringing the smuggling vessel in. No cutter appeared, and in due time—almost to the minute arranged—the smugglers came into view. Word was sent to the inns, and the men hurried down to the shore, helped to pull the vessel up, and then began the work of unloading her. Methodically, as though each man had been trained to the work, the smugglers set about the task, getting barrels, casks, and what not ashore in an incredibly short time; and while one batch did this, another hoisted the bales on their own backs or the backs of pack-horses. Then away they went into the night, making for their secret store-house. This was a cave with a small entrance, barely large enough for a man to squeeze through; but inside it opened out into a large, roomy place with niches cut. In these holes the goods were stored as, one by one, men came in with them; and the work was almost done when there came from outside the sounds which told them that trouble was afoot. The revenue men, perhaps warned by some gossiper of what was going on, had dashed round a headland in their cutter and interrupted the work.

Before the smugglers knew what had happened the cutter had swept into the little cove, there was a sharp command of “In the King’s name!” followed by roars from the smugglers, who, thus trapped, began to think of safety. The horses that were at hand were whipped up, men seized whatever lay near them, and before the revenue men could land they were running inland, keeping clear of the cave so that the Government men should not find it. As quickly as possible the Customs men leaped ashore, rushed after the fleeing men, called upon them to surrender, were answered by curses, and immediately opened fire.

It was the signal for a free fight. Armed, all of them, the smugglers dropped their burdens and turned about. Shots rang out, the pistols flashed fire, cries of men arose; revenue men fell to the ground, smugglers bit the dust, but it seemed that the officers must win, when suddenly there was a rush. Under cover of the darkness the men in the cave had slipped out, made a detour, and then, with shouts and shots, fell upon the revenue men, and in a few minutes had put them to flight.

Then, wasting no time on the wounded officers, the smugglers went back; some got into the boat and slipped out with her, while the rest finished the work of hiding the goods.

The “run” was over, and for several weeks the smugglers remained quiet, lest they should be traced as having taken part in the murderous affray.

We have referred above to the smugglers of Kent, and these gentry were by no means the honest kind of folk like the Cornishmen. A typical case of Kentish smugglers’ ways is that of the Hawkhurst gang, who, under their leader, Thomas Kingsmill, earned such a reputation for ruffianism that a special body called the “Goudhurst Militia” was raised to resist them, and many a stiff fight did the two bands have. The most disgraceful happenings in the career of the Hawkhurst gang were those that followed the affair of the Poole Custom House, where an illicit cargo of tea, valued at £500, had been taken into store by the officers. This cargo had been destined for Sussex, and the Hawkhurst gang and the Sussex men made a compact to break open the Custom House and rescue it.

Accordingly, on October 6, 1747, the smugglers set out for Poole, having arranged that thirty of them were to make the attack and thirty were to keep a look-out on the various roads. Arriving at Poole late at night, they sent a couple of men into the town to see if the way was clear.

One of the scouts came back with information that a large sloop lay in the harbour, in such a position that she might easily train her guns on the door of the Custom House and blow them to the winds if they dared to attack. The Sussex men were scared, and, preferring to lose the tea than their lives, turned back as if to go away. But Kingsmill cried:

“If you won’t do it, we’ll go and do it ourselves!”

The result was a consultation, during which another man came from the harbour to say that the tide was low and that the sloop could not bring her guns to bear on the raiders. The consultation came to an end, and the smugglers went forward, riding down a little back lane on the left of the town until they came to the seashore, where they left their horses. Then on to the Custom House, which they soon broke open, and, taking their tea, carried it to their horses, packed it, and rode away mightily pleased with themselves. Next morning they arrived at Fordingbridge. Here they had breakfast and fed their horses, going on afterwards to a place called Brook, where they obtained a pair of steel-yards and weighed the tea, which was then divided amongst the men.