Harvey (T. G.), Mullyon. Truro, 1875.
Cummins (A. H.), Cury and Gunwalloe. Truro, 1875. Good, but all these books are wild in their derivation of place-names, and not too much to be trusted in their history, as, for instance, when they mistake the Breton Cornouaille for Cornwall, and relate as occurring in the latter what actually belongs to the Breton Cornouaille.
CHAPTER XVII.
SMUGGLING
A cache—Smugglers’ paths—Donkeys—Hiding-places—Connivance with smugglers—A baronet’s carriage—Wrecking—“Fatal curiosity”—A ballad—Excuses made for smuggling—Story by Hawker—Desperate affrays—Sub-division of labour—“Creeping”—Fogous—One at Porth-cothan.
The other day I saw an old farmhouse in process of demolition in the parish of Altarnon, on the edge of the Bodmin moors. The great hall chimney was of unusual bulk, bulky as such chimneys usually are; and when it was thrown down it revealed the explanation of this unwonted size. Behind the back of the hearth was a chamber fashioned in the thickness of the wall, to which access might have been had at some time through a low walled-up doorway that was concealed behind the kitchen dresser and plastered over. This door was so low that it could be passed through only on all-fours.
Now the concealed chamber had also another way by which it could be entered, and this was through a hole in the floor of a bedroom above. A plank of the floor could be lifted, when an opening was disclosed by which anyone might pass under the wall through a sort of door, and down steps into this apartment, which was entirely without light. Of what use was this singular concealed chamber? There could be little question. It was a place in which formerly kegs of smuggled spirits and tobacco were hidden. The place lies some fourteen or fifteen miles from Boscastle, a dangerous little harbour on the North Cornish coast, and about a mile off the main road from London, by Exeter and Launceston, to Falmouth. The coach travellers in old days consumed a good deal of spirits, and here in a tangle of lanes lay a little emporium always kept well supplied with a stock of spirits which had not paid duty, and whence the taverners along the road could derive the contraband liquor, with which they supplied the travellers. Between this emporium and the sea the roads—parish roads—lie over wild moors or creep between high hedges of earth, on which the traveller can step along when the lane below is converted into the bed of a stream, also on which the wary smuggler could stride whilst his laden mules and asses stumbled forward in the concealment of the deep-set lane.
MOUNT’S BAY