Smugglers and Smuggling in Hastings and East Sussex


Next time you’re passing through the funfairs, crazy-golf and ice-cream stalls along Hastings seafront, try to imagine a time, not so long ago, when this beach was home to one of the most important local industries of the time, serving the needs of the community and bringing wealth and prosperity to many local people… If you wake at midnight, and hear the horses’ feet, Don’t go drawing back the blind or looking in the street. Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie. Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by! Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark – Brandy for the Parson, ‘Baccy for the Clerk; Laces for a lady, letters for a spy, Watch the wall my darling, while the gentlemen go by! (From A Smuggler’s Song by Rudyard Kipling) ORIGINS OF SMUGGLING Smuggling had taken place on a limited scale around the Kent and Sussex coast since the introduction of taxes on the export of wool around 1300, but it was a complete ban on wool exports in 1614 that really caused it to take off, and from then on local smugglers had it good for 200 years. Between 1652 and 1816 Britain was almost continuously at war by land and sea, with the French, the Dutch, with Spain and America. To finance these expensive wars new taxes on the sale, export and import of a wide variety of goods, including tea, tobacco, sugar, metals, cloth, wine and brandy, were imposed then increased again and again, at rates of up to 30%. Naturally this caused a lot of resentment among the ordinary and poor people who bore the brunt of these unpopular taxes. In this environment it’s hardly surprising that men of all types took to smuggling, with the complicity and often the cooperation of entire local communities. The most prolific, infamous and successful of this new breed of entrepreneurs were those of the Kent and Sussex coast, and our very own Hastings was one of the foremost smuggling towns. Its proximity to London and to the French coast, and the difficulty in policing an area with so many quiet shingle beaches, caves and cliffs all helped make the locality ideal for smuggling. And it seems that Hastings people took to this enterprise with great gusto and a natural flair - as E K Chatterton, in his 1912 book ‘King’s Cutters and Smugglers 1700-1855’ wrote: “For centuries there had lived along the south coast of England, especially in the neighbourhood of the old Cinque Ports, a race of men who were always ready for some piratical sea exploit… it was in their blood to undertake and long for such enterprises”. THE GOLDEN YEARS With taxes so high and the rewards so great, it was inevitable that the illicit industry should flourish and in the late 17th and 18th centuries along this stretch of coast, smuggling didn’t merely involve a few rogue individuals. In one way or another most of the local population was involved either by taking an active part or just ‘watching the wall’ as in Kipling’s poem. These were the golden years for smugglers who were often regarded as local heroes; the preventive forces were hopelessly inadequate and corrupt and contraband was landed quite openly on beaches and sometimes even the harbours, often awaited by large numbers of locals who helped carry the goods into town. An ordinary farm labourer could often earn more in a night’s work as a ‘tubman’ carrying barrels up from the beach than he could by a month’s hard work in the fields. The smugglers also employed lookouts and ‘batmen’ who carried cudgels and were ready to intimidate any who tried to stand in their way, but in practice violence was seldom required: to the common people, who were able to buy the goods they wanted at more reasonable prices, smuggling seemed to benefit the whole community and there were few dissenting voices. The Bo-Peep alehouse to the west of Hastings was a well-known smuggler’s haunt, and good use was made of the beaches between here and Eastbourne. Both The Stag on All Saints Street and The Hastings Arms on George Street had connections with the local smuggling trade, while The Smugglers at the end of Robertson Street has a labyrinth of tunnels and caves below it, used for hoarding goods. HINDRANCE AND HELP Toward the end of the 17th Century the authorities started patrolling the coastline using ‘revenue cutters’ and employed a land-guard of Riding Officers to patrol cliff-tops and board vessels to search them. But, few in number, poorly paid, frequently outgunned and outnumbered by the smugglers, and so unpopular with local people that they often found themselves attacked by large mobs who tried to rescue confiscated goods, it’s not surprising that they were mostly ineffective and easily bribed to allow the illicit trade to continue unhindered. Added to this, the French did all they could to aid and profit from the trade by making life easy for English smugglers. Just as they provide cheap ferry trips and big hypermarkets today, fast rowing galleys were on sale and ‘smuggling warehouses’ were opened on the coast to supply cheap liquor and other commonly smuggled goods in conveniently-sized waterproof packaging! During the Napoleonic wars, some smugglers helped ferry spies across the Channel and sold gold to the French, needed by Napoleon to pay his armies, at a great profit.	Burly local Bill Heath (above) is every inch your typical smugger, but in later times the smugglers’ rough and ready image suffered irreversible damage as some of their number flirted with using girl’s names and wearing dresses (see Leslie Badham, below). Images © Hastings Museum and Art Gallery LACY FRENCH UNDERWEAR But there was a much darker side to smuggling than the popular romantic image of rough-and-ready Robin-Hoods, dodging the law for a few kegs of brandy and some lacy French underwear. The nature of smuggling attracted many who were exceedingly rough and vicious, even by the standards of the day. Not only were there many violent skirmishes with the preventative forces, some of the more infamous local gangs, such as the much-feared Ruxley’s Crew of the 1760s, committed wanton acts of cruelty, murder and piracy against the innocent crew of trading ships. If caught and convicted, smugglers and pirates faced punishments ranging from fines, imprisonment and enforced service in the Royal Navy to hanging and the much-feared gibbet, in which bodies were strung up in chains and left to rot publicly as a warning to all. Smuggling ships were cut into two or three pieces (and often re-used as huts and shelters – as you can still see at the Stade). THE END OF AN ERA With the end of the Napoleonic Wars in 1816, the ‘golden age’ for smuggling also came to an end. The government at last had enough money, men and ships to make life much more difficult for the smugglers and turned its attention to ending their illicit trade. Control of the revenue cutters passed to the Admiralty and in 1817 the Royal Navy Coast Blockade for the Prevention of Smuggling was established. But by then smuggling had become a huge and well-organised underground industry and the smugglers weren’t about to give up at the first signs of trouble. They abandoned their blatant beach-landings and developed increasingly sophisticated methods. Contraband was concealed within all kinds of hollowed-out items and false compartments in barrels and boats. Large groups of tubs would be brought from France, tied together and weighted down with stones, then dropped a little way offshore at prearranged points to be collected by innocuous looking local fishing boats dragging special hooks, called ‘creepers’ on ropes, to be brought to shore concealed under their nets. The customs boats would also ‘creep’ around the known drop-off points, competing with the smugglers to find the booty first to earn a reward of prize-money. These cat-and-mouse games continued for many years with each side trying to outwit the other. Gradually though, after flourishing for almost two centuries, pressure from an increasingly professional customs service and gradual reductions of duties on goods led to increased risks and reduced revenues, and by the middle of the nineteenth century the heyday of smuggling was over. Of course smuggling didn’t end then and probably never will while illicit items can be bought or sold or taxes on trade evaded. From the sophisticated operations of international drug-smugglers to the weekend booze-cruise to Calais, the spirit of the smuggler lives on, and the words of E K Chatterton’s 1912 work are as true today as they ever were: “Human nature is much the same under various kings and later centuries … the difference is not so much in degree of guilt as in the nature of the articles and the manner in which they have been smuggled”.
Next month we’ll continue by featuring some of the fascinating stories of local smugglers and their running battles with the customs and excise men. Thanks to the Hastings Museum and Art Gallery for use of the images - go there or visit the Smuggler’s Adventure to find out more about smugglers!

Next time you’re passing through the funfairs, crazy-golf and ice-cream stalls along Hastings seafront, try to imagine a time, not so long ago, when this beach was home to one of the most important local industries of the time, serving the needs of the community and bringing wealth and prosperity to many local people…

If you wake at midnight, and hear the horses’ feet,
Don’t go drawing back the blind or looking in the street.
Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie.
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!
Five and twenty ponies,
Trotting through the dark –
Brandy for the Parson,
‘Baccy for the Clerk;
Laces for a lady, letters for a spy,
Watch the wall my darling, while the gentlemen go by!

(From A Smuggler’s Song by Rudyard Kipling)

ORIGINS OF SMUGGLING

Smuggling had taken place on a limited scale around the Kent and Sussex coast since the introduction of taxes on the export of wool around 1300, but it was a complete ban on wool exports in 1614 that really caused it to take off, and from then on local smugglers had it good for 200 years. Between 1652 and 1816 Britain was almost continuously at war
by land and sea, with the French, the Dutch, with Spain and America. To finance these expensive wars new taxes on the sale, export and import of a wide variety of goods, including tea, tobacco, sugar, metals, cloth, wine and brandy, were imposed then increased again and again, at rates of up to 30%. Naturally this caused a lot of resentment among the ordinary and poor people who bore the brunt of these unpopular taxes. In this environment it’s hardly surprising that men of all types took to smuggling, with the complicity and often the cooperation of entire local communities.

The most prolific, infamous and successful of this new breed of entrepreneurs were those of the Kent and Sussex coast, and our very own Hastings was one of the foremost smuggling towns. Its proximity to London and to the French coast, and the difficulty in policing an area with so many quiet shingle beaches, caves and cliffs all helped make the locality ideal for smuggling. And it seems that Hastings people took to this enterprise with great gusto and a natural flair - as E K Chatterton, in his 1912 book ‘King’s Cutters and Smugglers 1700-1855’ wrote: “For centuries there had lived along the south coast of England, especially in the neighbourhood of the old Cinque Ports, a race of men who were always ready for some piratical sea exploit… it was in their blood to undertake and long for such enterprises”.

THE GOLDEN YEARS

With taxes so high and the rewards so great, it was inevitable that the illicit industry should flourish and in the late 17th and 18th centuries along this stretch of coast, smuggling didn’t merely involve a few rogue individuals. In one way or another most of the local population was involved either by taking an active part or just ‘watching the wall’ as in Kipling’s poem. These were the golden years for smugglers who were often regarded as local heroes; the preventive forces were hopelessly inadequate and corrupt and contraband was landed quite openly on beaches and sometimes even the harbours, often awaited by large numbers of locals who helped carry the goods into town.

An ordinary farm labourer could often earn more in a night’s work as a ‘tubman’ carrying barrels up from the beach than he could by a month’s hard work in the fields. The smugglers also employed lookouts and ‘batmen’ who carried cudgels and were ready to intimidate any who tried to stand in their way, but in practice violence was seldom required: to the common people, who were able to buy the goods they wanted at more reasonable prices, smuggling seemed to benefit the whole community and there were few dissenting voices. The Bo-Peep alehouse to the west of Hastings was a well-known smuggler’s haunt, and good use was made of the beaches between here and Eastbourne. Both The Stag on All Saints Street and The Hastings Arms on George Street had connections with the local smuggling trade, while The Smugglers at the end of Robertson Street has a labyrinth of tunnels and caves below it, used for hoarding goods.

HINDRANCE AND HELP

Toward the end of the 17th Century the authorities started patrolling the coastline using ‘revenue cutters’ and employed a land-guard of Riding Officers to patrol cliff-tops and board vessels to search them. But, few in number, poorly paid, frequently outgunned and outnumbered by the smugglers, and so unpopular with local people that they often found themselves attacked by large mobs who tried to rescue confiscated goods, it’s not surprising that they were mostly ineffective and easily bribed to allow the illicit trade to continue unhindered.

Added to this, the French did all they could to aid and profit from the trade by making life easy for English smugglers. Just as they provide cheap ferry trips and big hypermarkets today, fast rowing galleys were on sale and ‘smuggling warehouses’ were opened on the coast to supply cheap liquor and other commonly smuggled goods in conveniently-sized waterproof packaging! During the Napoleonic wars, some smugglers helped ferry spies across the Channel and sold gold to the French, needed by Napoleon to pay his armies, at a great profit.

Macho smuggler Bill Heath
Burly local Bill Heath (above) is every inch your typical smugger, but in later times the smugglers’ rough and ready image suffered irreversible damage as some of their number flirted with using girl’s names and wearing dresses (see Leslie Badham, below). Images © Hastings Museum and Art Gallery

Transvestite smuggler Leslie Badham

LACY FRENCH UNDERWEAR

But there was a much darker side to smuggling than the popular romantic image of rough-and-ready Robin-Hoods, dodging the law for a few kegs of brandy and some lacy French underwear. The nature of smuggling attracted many who were exceedingly rough and vicious, even by the standards of the day. Not only were there many violent skirmishes with the preventative forces, some of the more infamous local gangs, such as the much-feared Ruxley’s Crew of the 1760s, committed wanton acts of cruelty, murder and piracy against the innocent crew of trading ships. If caught and convicted, smugglers and pirates faced punishments ranging from fines, imprisonment and enforced service in the Royal Navy to hanging and the much-feared gibbet, in which bodies were strung up in chains and left to rot publicly as a warning to all. Smuggling ships were cut into two or three pieces (and often re-used as huts and shelters – as you can still see at the Stade).

THE END OF AN ERA

With the end of the Napoleonic Wars in 1816, the ‘golden age’ for smuggling also came to an end. The government at last had enough money, men and ships to make life much more difficult for the smugglers and turned its attention to ending their illicit trade. Control of the revenue cutters passed to the Admiralty and in 1817 the Royal Navy Coast Blockade for the Prevention of Smuggling was established. But by then smuggling had become a huge and well-organised underground industry and the smugglers weren’t about to give up at the first signs of trouble. They abandoned their blatant beach-landings and developed increasingly sophisticated methods. Contraband was concealed within all kinds of hollowed-out items and false compartments in barrels and boats. Large groups of tubs would be brought from France, tied together and weighted down with stones, then dropped a little way offshore at prearranged points to be collected by innocuous looking local fishing boats dragging special hooks, called ‘creepers’ on ropes, to be brought to shore concealed under their nets. The customs boats would also ‘creep’ around the known drop-off points, competing with the smugglers to find the booty first to earn a reward of prize-money.

These cat-and-mouse games continued for many years with each side trying to outwit the other. Gradually though, after flourishing for almost two centuries, pressure from an increasingly professional customs service and gradual reductions of duties on goods led to increased risks and reduced revenues, and by the middle of the nineteenth century the heyday of smuggling was over.

Of course smuggling didn’t end then and probably never will while illicit items can be bought or sold or taxes on trade evaded. From the sophisticated operations of international drug-smugglers to the weekend booze-cruise to Calais, the spirit of the smuggler lives on, and the words of E K Chatterton’s 1912 work are as true today as they ever were: “Human nature is much the same under various kings and later centuries … the difference is not so much in degree of guilt as in the nature of the articles and the manner in which they have been smuggled”.

Next month we’ll continue by featuring some of the fascinating stories of local smugglers and their running battles with the customs and excise men. Thanks to the Hastings Museum and Art Gallery for use of the images - go there or visit the Smuggler’s Adventure to find out more about smugglers!