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The
Old Smugglers Tale
Commander H.N. Shore. 1899
The
following account of a trip in the once famous sloop was related to me
many years ago by an old Cawsand smuggler, who very shortly after passed
away.
“The
only trip I ever made in the “ Daniel and William was when Dan
Maddocks was skipper; Chenoworth and John Dunstan were along with me. We
were bound to Cherbourg for a cargo of sperrits, in four-gallon tubs. It
was all brandy what was brought over then - white brandy - but we called
it sperrits, for it was a deal above proof; four gallons of sperrits
would make six, with the right quantity of water and colouring matter
along with it. And that was the stuff we took in.
We ran across to Cherbourg without any bother, shipped the goods, and
made a try back. But the wind headed and blew up strong, so we had to
run back and wait for a fair slant. The spot we were bound for was Looe
Island, a nice quiet place, where you could land your goods and stow
‘em away in the caves without being interrupted, and get them run
ashore to Looe afterwards, whenever the coast was clear of preventive
men. It was just about this time, though, that the coastguard got wind
of the dodge, and set a couple of men to watch the island.
We had two Cawsand men waiting for us on shore, stowed away out of
sight, so that the coastguard shouldn’t get wind of the affair. You
see, in those days there was only one cottage on the island, in which an
old man, called Hamram, and his daughter ‘Tilda lived. They had a cave
somewhere, but no one ever found it; and they took jolly good care no
one should see them put the tubs into it - they always sent the chaps
inside the house while that was going on. They were staunch smugglers,
both on ‘em, and the goods would lie there safe enough till a chance
offered to get ‘em landed. They’d get a small sum for every tub they
took care of - I don’t think they ever got tubs brought across
themselves—and that’s how they made a living.
WelI,
we had to wait at Cherbourg some time before we got a proper slant of
wind. At last we ran across with a regular gale from the south-east, and
anchored under the lee of the island about midnight. Now, that was the
best of this spot, no matter which way the wind was you could always get
shelter, one side or t’ other; and after the goods was landed, why, we
didn’t care. There was a ter’ble sea running, the craft was pitching
bows under and presently the anchor began to drag and we nearly druv
ashore, as the cable ran right out to the clinch. Oh, it was a dre’ful
night, to be sure made sartin we should have to swim for it.
After waiting for close on an hour, watching for the boat to come off,
and seeing no signs of anyone, we launched our own, though she was
little better than a dinghey, and set to work landing the tubs. My word,
we had a job but we got them all ashore without losing a tub. There
wasn’t a soul on the island, barring Hamram and ‘Tilda - our chaps
had gone home, thinking we’d run in to another spot to land. However,
they soon got the tubs carried up with their donkey, and stowed away
safe.
As it happened, things couldn’t have turned out better for us. For,
although our two chaps weren’t there, we had the place all to
ourselves. It was pay-day with the coastguards, and they’d all gone
ashore to Looe, and it was blowing so hard they couldn’t get off again
that night. That was a good job for us I It was close on to four
o’clock of the morning before we got everything clear; and dre’ful
work it was, in a devil of a sea, and with nothing but a small boat to
land in. As it was, she pretty nigh got her bow knocked out of her, and
she leaked so bad we had to pass a line round her to keep the planks
together the last trip we made.
Directly everything was clear we slipped our cable and ran round to
Plymouth - the wind had shifted, you see. But before we could get under
weigh the boat had her bow pulled clean out of her, and she drifted
ashore, somewhere by Downderry, I believe. Did I say we saved all the
tubs? Well, then, I lied for two were washed out of the boat while we
were landing them, and were picked up afterwards by the coastguard on
the beach near Looe.
When we were abreast of Cawsand we were boarded by Mr. Foote, the
officer stationed there, to search us for a double bottom - he’d
information against us, you see. He found nothing, though, of course, he
knew well enough what we’d been after. The fact was some one had
informed against us, and if it hadn’t been for the pay-day at Looe,
and the boatmen not being able to get off to the island, we should have
been nabbed, sure enough. Some of our friends had sent a boat across to
Cherbourg with a letter telling us that information was out against us.
We saw the boat pass, but took no notice of her, not knowing where it
was bound to; and as the chaps aboard her didn’t know our craft we
heard nothing of the affair till we got back. The man who informed was a
labourer by name of Sparkes, living at Millbay, who had a lot of private
places about the country, and made a good bit of money by keeping tubs
for parties. He wanted to get into the revenue cutter, and so he gave
the information to the officer at Looe. However, he got nothing by it,
for, you see, we saved all our goods.
The morning after we’d landed the cargo the coastguard came off to the
island, almost before Hamram had properly cleared up his place after
stowing away the tubs. You see, they had dead information against us,
even if it hadn’t been for their finding the boat and the two tubs
we’d lost, and they searched and dug all over the island for days, but
they found nothing. The tubs—there were three hundred of ‘em—lay
in the caves on Looe island for three months before there was a chance
of running them. ‘Now, that was the only trip I ever made in the
“Daniel and William but there’s no doubt she was one of the most
notorious smuggling craft on the coast.
Did I ever see the caves? No! Why, now, it would never have done to let
people into the secret. It mightn’t have mattered for once, but in the
long run some blackguard would have been sure to have informed agin
Hamram, and then the game would have been up. What’s more, the caves
never were found, the secret died along with ‘em.’
Since the above was related I have succeeded in quarrying out from
official and other virgin fields quite a mass of interesting material
relating to Looe island and the enterprising parties who frequented the
spot in days gone by. The ‘cave dwellings’ wherein the trusty Hamram
and his daughter imprisoned the spirits entrusted to their care were
subsequently discovered—one accidentally, the other by a process known
in the profession as ‘pricking.’ The position of both has been
pointed out to me by old men who were ‘in the know.’ The story of
the Looe island caves and their guardian angels would make quite an
interesting chapter of history. Alas I all who could speak of them from
personal knowledge have, since imparting their experiences to the
present writer, passed away to the ‘happy smuggling grounds.’
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