King's Cutters and Smugglers 1700-1855 Part 16

CHAPTER XIX

ACTION AND COUNTER-ACTION

It is conscience that makes cowards of us all, and this may be said of smugglers no less than of law-abiding citizens. A trial was going on in connection with a certain incident which had occurred in Cawsand Bay, Plymouth Sound. It was alleged that, on the night of November 17, 1831, a man named Phillips had been shot in the knee whilst in a boat, trying with the aid of some other men to get up an anchor. The chief officer of the Preventive service at Cawsand was accused by Phillips of having thus injured him, and the case in the course of time was brought into court. Among the witnesses was one whom counsel believed to be not wholly unconnected with smuggling. Whether or not this was true we need not worry ourselves, but the following questions and answers are well worth recording.

Cawsand was a notorious smuggling locality, and its secluded bay, with plenty of deep water almost up to the beach, made it highly suitable for sinking tubs well below the surface of the water. And then there must have been very few people ash.o.r.e who had never been concerned in this contraband trade. In such villages as this you might usually rely on the local innkeeper knowing as much as anyone in the neighbourhood on the subject of smuggling. Such a man, then, from Cawsand, illiterate, but wideawake, went into the witness-box for counsel to cross-examine, and the following dialogue carries its own conviction:--

_Question._ "You are an innkeeper and sailor, if I understand you rightly?"

_Answer._ "Yes!"

_Q._ "Is that all?"

_A._ "Mariner and innkeeper."

_Q._ "Is that all the trades you follow?"

_A._ "Fis.h.i.+ng sometimes."

_Q._ "What do you fish for?"

_A._ "Different sorts of fish."

_Q._ "Did you ever fish for half-ankers?"

_A._ "Half-ankers?"

_Q._ "Casks of spirits--is that part of your fis.h.i.+ng-tackle?"

_A._ "No, I was never convicted of no such thing."

_Q._ "I am not asking you that. You know what I mean. I ask whether it is part of your profession."

_A._ "No, it was not."

_Q._ "You never do such things?"

_A._ "What should I do it for?"

_Q._ "I cannot tell you. I ask you whether you do it, not what you do it for."

_A._ "I may choose to resolve whether I tell you or not."

_Q._ "I will not press you if your conscience is tender. You will not tell me whether you do a little stroke in the Fair trade upon the coast? You will not answer me that question?"

_A._ "I am telling the truth."

_Q._ "Will you answer that question?"

_A._ "No."

_Q._ "Are you or are you not frequently in practice as a smuggler?"

_A._ "No!"

And that was all that could be got out of a man who probably could have told some of the best smuggling yarns in Cornwall. The inhabitants so thoroughly loathed the Preventive men that, to quote the words of the man who was chief officer there at the time we are speaking of, "the hatred of the Cawsand smugglers is ... so great that they scarcely ever omit an opportunity of showing it either by insult or otherwise."

There was a kind of renaissance of smuggling about the third decade of the nineteenth century, and this was brought on partly owing to the fact that the vigilance along our coasts was not quite so smart as it might have been. But there were plenty of men doing their duty to the service, as may be seen from the account of Matthew Morrissey, a boatman in the Coastguard Service at Littlehampton. About eleven o'clock on the evening of April 5, 1833, he saw a vessel named the _Nelson_, which had come into harbour that day. On boarding her, together with another boatman, he found a crew of two men and a boy.

The skipper told him they were from Bognor in ballast. Morrissey went below, got a light, and searched all over the after-cabin, the hold, and even overhauled the ballast, but found nothing. He then got into the Coastguard boat, took his boat-hook, and after feeling along the vessel's bottom, discovered that it was not as it ought to have been.

"I'm not satisfied," remarked the Coastguard to her skipper, Henry Roberts, "I shall haul you ash.o.r.e."

One of the crew replied that he was "very welcome," and the Coastguard then sent his companion ash.o.r.e to fetch the chief boatman. The Coastguard himself then again went aboard the _Nelson_, whereupon the crew became a little restless and went forward. Presently they announced that they would go ash.o.r.e, so they went forward again, got hold of the warp, and were going to haul on sh.o.r.e by it when the Coastguard observed, "Now, recollect I am an officer in his Majesty's Revenue duty, and the vessel is safely moored and in my charge; and if you obstruct me in my duty you will abide by the consequences." He took the warp out of their hands, and continued to walk up and down one side of the deck while the crew walked the other. This went on for about twenty minutes, when Henry Roberts came up just as the Coastguard was turning round, and getting a firm grip, pushed him savagely aft and over the vessel's quarter into the water. Heavily laden though the Coastguard was with a heavy monkey-jacket, petticoat canvas trousers over his others, and with his arms as well, he had great difficulty in swimming, but at last managed to get to the sh.o.r.e.

The chief boatman and the other man were now arriving, and it was found that the _Nelson's_ crew had vanished. The vessel was eventually examined, and found to have a false bottom containing thirty-two tubs of liquor and twenty-eight flagons of foreign brandy. Roberts was later on arrested, found guilty, and transported for seven years.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Getting a firm grip, pushed him ... into the water."]

A few pages back we witnessed an incident off Hastings. On the 5th of January 1832, a much more serious encounter took place. Lieutenant Baker, R.N., was cruising at that time in the Revenue cutter _Ranger_ off the Suss.e.x coast, when between nine and ten in the evening he saw a suspicious fire on the Castle Hill at Hastings. Believing that it was a smuggler's signal, he despatched his four-oared galley, with directions to row between Eccles Barn and the Martello Tower, No. 39.

At the same time the _Ranger_ continued to cruise off the land so as to be in communication with the galley. About 1 A.M. a report was heard from the Hastings direction, and a significant blue light was seen burning. Baker therefore took his cutter nearer in-sh.o.r.e towards the spot where this light had been seen. He immediately fell in with his galley, which had shown the blue light, and in her he found about two hundred casks of different sizes containing foreign spirits, and also five men who had been detained by the galley.

The men of course were taken on board the cruiser, and as the morning advanced, the _Ranger_ again stood into the sh.o.r.e so that the lieutenant might land the spirits at the Custom House. Then getting into his galley with part of his crew, the tubs were towed astern in the cutter's smaller boat. But on reaching the beach, he found no fewer than four hundred persons a.s.sembled with the apparent intention of preventing the removal of the spirits to the Custom House, and especially notorious among this gang were two men, named respectively John Pankhurst and Henry Stevens. The galley was greeted with a shower of stones, and some of the Revenue men therein were struck, and had to keep quite close to the water's edge. Stevens and Pankhurst came and deposited themselves on the boat's gunwale, and resisted the removal of the tubs. Two carts now came down to the beach, but the mob refused to allow them to be loaded, and stones were flying in various directions, one man being badly hurt. Lieutenant Baker also received a violent blow from a large stone thrown by Pankhurst.

But gradually the carts were loaded in spite of the opposition, and just as the last vehicle had been filled, Pankhurst loosened the bridle-back of the cart which was at the back of the vehicle to secure the spirits, and had not the Revenue officers and men been very smart in surrounding the cart and protecting the goods, there would have been a rescue of the casks. Ultimately, the carts proceeded towards the Custom House pursued by the raging mob, and even after the goods had been all got in there was a good deal of pelting with stones and considerable damage done. Yet again, when these prisoners, Pankhurst and Stevens, were brought up for trial, the jury failed to do their duty and convict. But the Lord Chief Justice of that time remarked that he would not allow Stevens and Pankhurst to be discharged until they had entered into their recognisances to keep the peace in 20 each.

But next to the abominable cruelties perpetrated by the Hawkhurst gang related in an earlier chapter, I have found no incident so utterly brutal and savage as the following. I have to ask the reader to turn his imagination away from Suss.e.x, and centre it on a very beautiful spot in Dorsets.h.i.+re, where the cliffs and sea are separated by only a narrow beach. On the evening of the 28th of June 1832, Thomas Barrett, one of the boatmen belonging to the West Lulworth Coastguard, was on duty and proceeding along the top of the cliff towards Durdle, when he saw a boat moving about from the eastward. It was now nearly 10 P.M.

He ran along the cliff, and then down to the beach, where he saw that this boat had just landed and was now shoving off again. But four men were standing by the water, at the very spot whence the boat had immediately before pushed off. One of these men was James Davis, who had on a long frock and a covered hat painted black.

Barrett asked this little knot of men what their business was, and why they were there at that time of night, to which Davis replied that they had "come from Weymouth, pleasuring!" Barrett observed that to come from Weymouth (which was several miles to the westward) by the east was a "rum" way. Davis then denied that they had come from the eastward at all, but this was soon stopped by Barrett remarking that if they had any nonsense they would get the worst of it. After this the four men went up the cliff, having loudly abused him before proceeding. On examining the spot where the boat had touched, the Coastguard found twenty-nine tubs full of brandy lying on the beach close to the water's edge, tied together in pairs, as was the custom for landing. He therefore deemed it advisable to burn a blue light, and fired several shots into the air for a.s.sistance.

Three boatmen belonging to the station saw and heard, and they came out to his aid. But by this time the country-side was also on the alert, and the signals had brought an angry crowd of fifty men, who sympathised with the smugglers. These appeared on the top of the cliff, so the four coastguards ran from the tubs (on the beach) to the cliff to prevent this mob from coming down and rescuing the tubs. But as the four men advanced to the top of the cliff, they hailed the mob and asked who they were, announcing that they had seized the tubs. The crowd made answer that the coastguards should not have the tubs, and proceeded to fire at the quartette and to hurl down stones. A distance of only about twenty yards separated the two forces, and the chief boatman ordered his three men to fire up at them, and for three-quarters of an hour this affray continued.

It was just then that the coastguards heard cries coming from the top of the cliff--cries as of some one in great pain. But soon after the mob left the cliff and went away; so the coastguards went down to the beach again to secure and make safe the tubs, where they found that Lieutenant Stocker was arriving at the beach in a boat from a neighbouring station. He ordered Barrett to put the tubs in the boat and then to lay a little distance from the sh.o.r.e. But after Barrett had done this and was about thirty yards away, the lieutenant ordered him to come ash.o.r.e again, because the men on the beach were bringing down Lieutenant Knight, who was groaning and in great pain.

What had happened to the latter must now be told. After the signals mentioned had been observed, a man named Duke and Lieutenant Knight, R.N., had also proceeded along the top of the cliff. It was a beautiful starlight night, with scarcely any wind, perfectly still and no moon visible. There was just the sea and the night and the cliffs.

But before they had gone far they encountered that mob we have just spoken of at the top of the cliff. Whilst the four coastguards were exchanging fire from below, Lieutenant Knight and Duke came upon the crowd from their rear. Two men against fifty armed with great sticks 6 feet long could not do much. As the mob turned towards them, Lieutenant Knight promised them that if they should make use of those murderous-looking sticks they should have the contents of his pistol.

But the mob, without waiting, dealt the first blows, so Duke and his officer defended themselves with their cutla.s.ses. At first there were only a dozen men against them, and these the two managed to beat off.

But other men then came up and formed a circle round Knight and Duke, so the two stood back to back and faced the savage mob. The latter made fierce blows at the men, which were warded off by the cutla.s.ses in the men's left hands, two pistols being in the right hand of each.

The naval men fired these, but it was of little good, though they fought like true British sailors. Those 6-foot sticks could reach well out, and both Knight and Duke were felled to the ground.

Then, like human panthers let loose on their prey, this brutal, lawless mob with uncontrolled cruelty let loose the strings of their pent-up pa.s.sion. They kept these men on the ground and dealt with them shamefully. Duke was being dragged along by his belt, and the crowd beat him sorely as he heard his lieutenant exclaim, "Oh, you brutes!"

The next thing which Duke heard the fierce mob to say was, "Let's kill the ---- and have him over the cliff." Now the cliff at that spot is 100 feet high. Four men then were preparing to carry out this command--two were at his legs and two at his hands--when Duke indignantly declared, "If Jem was here, he wouldn't let you do it."

It reads almost like fiction to have this dramatic halt in the murder scene. For just as Duke was about to be hurled headlong over the side, a man came forward and pressed the blackguards back on hearing these words. For a time it was all that the new-comer could do to restrain the brutes from hitting the poor fellow, while the men who still had hold of his limbs swore that they would have Duke over the cliff. But after being dealt a severe blow on the forehead, they put him down on to the ground and left him bleeding. One of the gang, seeing this, observed complacently, "He bleeds well, but breathes short. It will soon be over with him." And with that they left him.