Off the coast lies Looe Island. This was for many years the dwelling-place of a man named Fyn and his sister, "Black Joan." They were son and daughter of an outlaw, who had spent his life since his outlawry on the Mewstone off Gara Point, at the entrance of Plymouth Sound. Here he and his wife lived a wild life like sea-mews, and there reared their young, who grew up without any religious, moral, or intellectual training. The outlaw died on the Mewstone, and Fyn and his sister, accustomed from infancy to an island life, could not endure the thought of going to the mainland for the rest of their days, and so they settled on Looe Island. Here they were joined by a negro, and by their united efforts honeycombed the ground under their hovel and the large barn adjoining for the accommodation of smuggled goods. Their only associates were the free-traders.
One day the black man vanished, and it was never known what had become of him, whether he had left or been murdered by Fyn and his sister. There were naturally no witnesses; nothing could be proved against them. Recently a skull has been dug up near the house, and is kept in a box in the dwelling, but it is not that of a negro. Actually there is a layer of human remains about two feet below the surface of the turf, exposed on the east side of the island, where wind and spray are gnawing away the cliff, and any number of teeth and bones may be picked out. Whether these are the remains of an early Christian monastic cemetery, or of shipwrecked sailors buried on the cliffs, cannot be told, as no investigation has been made to discover the approximate period to which this layer of dead men's bones belongs.
Formerly there was a chapel on the summit of the island, but only its foundations remain. The island belonged to the monastery of Lamana (lan-manachau, the church of the monks) on the mainland.
On that island they spent many years, hand in glove with the smugglers.
There was an old fellow, a farmer on the mainland, who rode a white horse into Looe. He acted as spy, and was intimate with the preventive men, who trusted him, and perhaps some of them had their palms greased to give him information. If the white horse were seen returning along the coast road to the west, that was a signal to Fyn that all was safe. But sometimes the horse was too lame or tired to return home, and the farmer went his way on foot; that always coincided with activity among the officers of the revenue.
From Looe Island, Fyn or his sister signalled by lights to the smugglers lying in the offing.
At length their daring and their success induced the Government to establish one of their guard on the island itself--the station is still there--and the man was bidden keep a watchful eye on Black Joan and her brother.
Now the Fyns had their secret stores full of a cargo they desired to run ashore, but were afraid of being seen by this man.
One day Black Joan hastened to the preventive officer with, "Oh, my dear! Now ther's that terr'ble put out I be. What du'y think now? My boat hev a broke her moorings, and is driftin' wi' the tide out to say. Oh, my dear man, du'y now bring her in for me." The officer ran to the cliff, and sure enough there was the boat slowly floating away on the ebb of the tide.