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.’
