by David O'Neil
Word the success of the operation spread rapidly throughout the area, and the illegal movement of goods slowed down temporarily to a trickle. The Schooners were glimpsed on three occasions but the presence of the frigate scared them off before they could be approached.
Robert discussed the situation after dinner in the great cabin of the ship. It was over a week since the raid and Robert was concerned about his campaign losing its impetus.
“Everything seems to have stopped, and I am worried that by the time they resume, my men will be lulled into a sense of complacency, and when new events occur they will not be ready to react as they should!”
John Willet was confident that things would begin again soon enough. “They cannot afford to leave it too long. Their customers will be crying out for goods, you mark my words.”
Barbara, who was present, interjected. “At the Hall my father said that the Housekeeper was complaining that her local supplier was unable to bring certain items owing to a temporary shortage, do we presume they’re part of the regular trade?”
“I’m afraid we must assume so. Obviously the imports have become a routine part of the local economy. So if we have reached that stage we had better prepare for some diversion. With the patrols all along the coast and our increasing network of informers we must have a good chance of stopping some of them for good!” Robert sat back feeling a little better.
Seated around the table were the assembled officers of the ship plus Barbara and Captain Willet, but it was Midshipman Abbot who hesitantly spoke next, it was a tribute to the relaxed atmosphere on the ship that Abbot dared open his mouth in such exalted company, but after several months of being encouraged to speak if he had something of worth to say, he made his suggestion. “In my home in Boscastle, the ‘Gentlemen’ have an easy time because they have things organised with their customers. The main trader has a legitimate business as a general supplier of virtually everything. He delivers his ‘trade goods’ alongside his legally obtained items, so local folk can turn a blind eye to how some of the goods are obtained. In addition, in a warehouse full of a variety of goods picking out contraband can be virtually impossible.”
Willet interrupted. “We know all this, it happens here.”
Not put off Abbot continued. “But integrated with this trade is the trade in poached venison and other game and fish from the local estates. In many cases people are supplied with their own deer and grouse, and salmon from their own rivers. Of course the local landowners do what they can to stop the poaching, but they still accept smuggled Brandy and tobacco, and whatever other exotic goods are offered. Our local officer was like us, frustrated, and he thought up a way to trap the smuggler. Contacting the local poacher he convinced him that he was being used by the smugglers to cover their own operation, they had been right on the heels of the smugglers when they had been led to the poacher’s smallholding where they had discovered contraband goods concealed behind the hay in his barn. The officer had convinced the poacher that he had not arrested him because he was aware that it was a set up!” Abbot paused and looked around; his audience were silent waiting for the end of the story. “The poacher had supplied people prior to the entry of the smuggler into the business, he had resented the way he had been forced to deal with the General Trader, he was also upset to find that his personal cache of contraband had been located, and quite content to allow the officer to assume the goods had been planted to implicate him.”
Abbot concluded. “The next time a cargo was being run by the smugglers, the officer was there with his men, and such is the greed of these men, the owner of the General Traders was there and caught in flagrante delicto. His protests that he had been lured to the spot by the poacher fell on deaf ears, and the threat of hanging soon caused his men to give him up anyway. They cleared up the entire crew and the local community mourned their passing.”
Barbara asked. “What happened to the poacher?”
Abbots answer caused great amusement. “My uncle was shot in the backside with rock salt whilst fulfilling an order for the local landowner; his wound was inflicte, by the same local landowner! Uncle James no longer supplies anyone other than the family nowadays.
“The officer is now working out how to catch the new local smuggler. It appears that the contraband trade has become a regular part of the community trade.”
Willet spoke up. “What the lad says could be the answer. If we could convince Ted Moult say that he had been betrayed by the Tregarth brothers who want to take over his trade.”
He and Robert spoke together ‘Rebus Gowan!’
Willet continued. “When we meet tomorrow, a slip of the tongue, a mere hint should be enough. He’s no fool, he will pass it on surely.”
The meeting of the committee was held at the home of Sir Charles Wellworthy at Dartmeet on Dartmoor. During the meeting the news of the successful raid at Womwell beach was given and as the congratulations were being given there was a mention that it was a pity that the Tregarth brothers had not been the subject and their capture not achieved. Robert laughed and tapped his nose, knowingly. “Peter Tregarth can be helpful on occasion.”
“What does that mean?” Sir Arthur asked.
Robert merely said. “I’m saying nothing. Information comes from more than one source, and you cannot discount it wherever it’s from.” Noting the alert look of the normally semi-comatose Rebus Gowan, Robert reckoned that the message went home. Later at the Samphire Inn, Captain Willet’s spy confirmed that Rebus Gowan had told Ted Moult that the raid had been because of betrayal by Peter Tregarth.
“I’ll be ‘avin a word with that Tregarth feller.” Ted’s voice was even angrier than usual on hearing this news.”
“No you won’t.” Rebus Gowan’s voice was cold and his face was like stone. “Seeing the man would just confirm that we have a spy in the committee. You will let me know when he is going to make a run and I will fix him for you. Understand?”
Ted recoiled from the sheer viciousness of Gowan’s tone of voice. He had never heard him quite like this. It occurred to him that perhaps that was how he had obtained the position in life that he now occupied.
“Do you understand what I am saying?” Gowan repeated.
“Yes, I understand,” Ted said aggressively. “I’ll keep my mouth shut this time, but….”
Leaving the comment unfinished he sank his nose in his glass. He had not intended speaking to Peter Tregarth, it was just bravado, but they didn’t need to know that.
On Willet’s orders a close watch was kept on Rebus Gowan over the next few days to make sure Ted did not pass anything on to Rebus without Willet knowing; and it was on the fourth day that their watch was rewarded. At a brief meeting in the Samphire Ted told Rebus that a landing had been arranged on the Saturday, in two days, a big cargo at Cawsand Bay before moonrise. At approximately nine-thirty, the schooner would come close in where the shore sloped steeply, the goods in kegs would float ashore, a boat would only be required for the people. It seemed that there were several people coming across from France on this occasion.
Delft crept in towards the cliffs in Cawsand Bay. The vague outline of the schooner under topsail alone was ghosting in towards the small village of Cawsand. The subdued rumble of her anchor was heard followed by the sound of oars as a small boat carried out a stern anchor to keep the ship steady. The squeak of blocks then followed as the cargo was hauled out of the hold followed by the splash of the kegs hitting the water. On shore the men allocated by Robert and Willet gathered themselves as the reception provided by the smugglers prepared to unlash and load up the precious cargo. Before the cargo was half unloaded a cry from the deck of the schooner warned the smugglers they were under observation. At the cry the bow gun of Delft crashed out and the schooner shuddered with the impact.
“Stand fast in the Kings name.” Leclerc’s voice through the speaking trumpet rang out across the bay, raising an echo along the cliff face. Ashore the smugglers rushed to remove the goods already landed and
the small group of people landed from the ship were hurried to the track through the cliffs. Lanterns were suddenly lit all round the village and on the road out. The armed men seemed to be everywhere, a pistol fired and a man fell crying out in agony, the clash of steel followed briefly, then it was over. The ambush was successful, the shore party was arrested and the schooner seized, and carried into Plymouth dockyard under the guns of Delft.
Chapter fourteen
Sunday was normally a quiet day in the Dockyard; this day was different. The schooner Amy named for the wife of Peter Tregarth lay alongside the quay being unloaded. The stack of goods in kegs on the quay grew as the remainder of the cargo was stacked, then the empty ship was stripped by the customs men searching every nook and cranny for anything missed. Once they were satisfied the ship was handed over to the shipwrights to repair the damage caused by the cannon shot from the night before. The cargo was loaded onto carts and taken to join the rest of the contraband taken the previous night at Cawsand; all stacked in the customs house on the quay. Provisionally valued at £15000.00, the worrying element was the cases of muskets and ammunition consigned to a house in Princeton where the French prisoners of war were accommodated.
Among the people taken were a French Holy Father and a family of Émigré, fleeing from France. They had been hiding for two years from the authorities. All were being closely questioned by a quietly dressed group of men who appeared out of nowhere. They were joined by a face familiar to Robert, Amelie Parker, though she made no sign of recognition. The local prisoners included both of the Tregarth brothers, Peter on board ship and Adam on the shore.
Present at their first interview Robert was surprised at the indiscretion of John Willet who let slip that the information about the landing had come from a Kingsbridge smuggler. No names mentioned but a week later Willets’ spy in Kingsbridge reported that the carriage carrying Rebus Gowan had broken a wheel and gone over the cliff at Bigbury, killing Rebus and Ted Moult, who was riding with him; of the driver there was no sign.
The Amy was taken into the customs service, the crew drawn from the pool of men that included the remaining ex-galley slaves.
Further down the coast there was a serious fight between the Romney marsh smugglers and the Preventive men who found a great hoard of goods concealed in the Church crypt. The smugglers led by the local Priest fought vigorously and the death toll amounted to eight men, five smugglers and three Customs men. Several others wounded.
The hanging of the survivors sent a message to the brotherhood that while it didn’t stop the smuggling it certainly slowed it down.
Robert took Barbara to London whilst he toured the various outposts of the service around the south coast; she used the opportunity to complete the decoration and refurbishment of the house in Knightsbridge under her charge and had finally created a presentable establishment for entertaining to her satisfaction. Her aunt was pleased to stay in the temporary absence of Robert, who was detained in Dover. The repercussions to the efforts of the Preventive men in the Kent area were considerable, and the hanging of the Dymchurch smugglers was a cause celebre for the less lawful of the area. As was pointed out, the hanging was not for smuggling but for the killing of the officers making the arrests.
The local officer’s spy network had brought word of a mysterious new figure in the smuggling world, new at least to the Kentish Officers, though the man Marc Charles was known to Leclerc.
The new man in the Kent trade was French. His ship was rigged and armed like a ship of war, and rumour had it that the Captain and crew were in fact French Naval personnel who were smuggling and doing a little piracy on the side. The ship Le Corbeau was brig rigged and quick, she also carried a broadside of 8 guns, nine pounders at least. The cutters and pinks of the British Preventive Service had no chance against her, so it became the task of Delft and Roister to hunt her down.
In the crew of HMS Delft were several French-speaking Channel Islanders and Leclerc landed three of these men in the Calais area. They found the location of the ship in her regular base on the outer wall of the inner harbour at Calais. Her berth allowed her to put to sea at all states of the tide, depending of the wind of course.
This information was passed to Robert and discussed at length and, when a plan was devised, Leclerc asked to lead the cutting out party. He explained to Robert that La Corbeau was the vessel that had raided his home in St Peter Port, Guernsey.
“If we can come close enough to Calais to land the men, we could cut out Le Corbeau and add her to our little fleet, she would make a useful asset, and at the same time we would be ridding the channel of a serious problem.”
Leclerc thought for a while, then he suggested. “If our trained men could be placed at the seaward end of the quay, it should be possible to steal the ship without too much trouble from the crew. The big problem would be the forts at the Harbour mouth.” He sat back as Ullyet spoke.
“As far as I’m aware, sir, the men, once landed, should be able to subdue the forts, at least until we get the ship out. In effect, the forts are both basically batteries manned by men billeted in the city. They have no garrison as such, and therefore the personnel would consist of the gun crews only. They would be vulnerable to infantry. Holding the position would be more difficult but not impossible. Once the ship was out there would be no further need to hang on and the landing party could be uplifted.”
At the end of the discussion the plans were made providing for the cutting out of the ship—or her destruction—to take place at the next dark of the moon, in two weeks time. Meanwhile a watch would continue on the movements of the shipping in Calais.
“How does he get out of the harbour to raid and smuggle while we have a squadron of ships supposedly blockading Calais?” The question was from Captain Ullyet.
Leclerc chose his words carefully in replying.
“The seas off Calais are difficult to patrol. There are shallows and tidal currents that can trap a ship of draught easily. Over the years the waters have been surveyed by many different chart makers, however still ships are trapped. A knowing captain can leave Calais under the eyes of the fleet and still elude capture merely by using the correct state of tide and slant of wind. Using the Delft, we have the best of both worlds, a ship of shallow draught and big enough to carry the men needed. Also she is Dutch and they are regular visitors to Calais; this is all in our favour.”
From the stores of the frigate, uniforms captured from the French were produced to outfit a platoon of men. They would form the escort for the balance of the 120 men who were to be ‘prisoners of war’ under escort, wheeling the carriage with their weapons and ammunition along with them. The escort was commanded by Leclerc himself.
The men would be carried to the outer quay by Delft where they would be lined up and escorted to the building works being carried out in the inner harbour. As they passed the fort on the quay they would take their weapons and take control of the battery. Half the men would then board the supply boat kept to communicate between the forts. They would cross and assault the other fort and take control.
Once the forts were taken the cutting out party would be escorted round the harbour wall to the moored French ship where they would take over control of the vessel on the inner quay as quietly as possible. The ship would be brought round to the outer quay and take on board the landing parties as it left Calais.
***
The dark water swirled past the hull of the Delft as it made way in between the arms of the harbour entrance at Calais, the lights of the fort at the eastern side, showed faint through the mist that had risen following the warm day. The men crouched on deck were silent as they waited for a cry of warning or challenge but none came. The ship slid alongside against rope fenders and men leapt ashore to secure the ship alongside.
The landing party silently filed ashore and lined up. The carriage was swung on to the quay and the party gathered round and prepared to push it along between them. The uniformed men formed up, rifles at the por
t and the whole party moved off openly chattering and murmuring as they marched down the quay to the port battery. The tramp of feet and the noise of the creaking of the carriage warned the sentry at the battery, who came out of the guard room to challenge the party.
Leclerc spoke to the guard, explaining that they were supposed to be working on the repairs to the dock but the ship’s captain refused to sail any further in the poor visibility, so they had to walk round to the building site. The party moved on while the conversation took place and as they came abreast of the embrasures, the covers were whipped off the carriage and the ‘prisoners’ armed themselves and poured through the entryway into the courtyard behind the guns. The gun crews were sitting round the tables set out beside the magazine eating and drinking and playing cards.
The surprise was complete, and the gunners quickly lined up without a fuss and pushed into the storerooms that formed part of the enclosure behind the gun platforms.
“They haven’t even got slow matches alight, or ready use ammunition by the guns!” Roisters gunner’s mate was disgusted, and he immediately set about preparing the guns for action if required.
“Second party; man the boat and take the other battery. Lively now!” Leclerc’s voice was low but the snap was there and the party under Captain Ullyet boarded the boat lying alongside, with one of the Guernsey men to translate if needed. They set off, rowing on a compass bearing across the water to the other battery.
The cutting out party set off down the quay to the point where they could board the French ship. As they approached, the shadowy outline of the masts stood out against the lights of the city, quietly both the bow and stern parties ranged alongside the ship in their allotted places. At the call they boarded the ship swarming over the bulwarks and overpowering the deck watch.