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				The Smuggling Industry
	
	The Stretch of coast between Owers and Brixham - and particularly between 
	St. Catherine's and St. Albans — is considered by seamen to be one of the 
	most deceptive and dangerous coastlines in the world. Perhaps, for this 
	reason, those who fished for their livelihood acquired that sixth sense, an 
	extra cunning in the ways of the sea.
	
	It was seamen of this calibre who, during the struggles between France and 
	England in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, turned smuggler. From 
	Weymouth, along the Dorset coast to Kimmeridge; to Poole, Bournemouth; 
	Christchurch and Mudeford; and up to Keyhaven, Lymington, Beaulieu and 
	Hamble; from all these inlets and creeks "The Gentlemen" plied their trade 
	during the hours of darkness.
	
	To seize the contraband and arrest the smugglers, brigs of the Royal Navy 
	patrolled lengths of the coast. Captain Marryat (1792-1848), author of 
	Masterman Ready and Mr. Midshipman Easy, commanded such a ship. Ashore, the 
	Preventative Service cast its net to ensnare the Free Traders; the Customs 
	and Excise, working through its informers. Coast Waiters and Riding 
	Officers, operated from their regional headquarters in Southampton. 
	Christchurch and Lymington were responsible to the Master Port, each 'creek' 
	operating its own revenue cutter. Waiters were distributed throughout the 
	coastal villages their duties being to check and control all shipping.
	
	"The Gentlemen" made the Queen's Head at Burley their headquarters, the loca! 
	hostelries in the Forest being the disposal points for the contraband: the 
	Cat and Fiddle at Hinton was probably the most notorious.
	
	Tom Johnston of Lymington was one such smuggler, schooled as a lad amongst 
	the creeks of Pennington, Keyhaven, Oxey and Lymington. With the fishermen, 
	he learned the tricks of the trade: burying the brandy kegs in the mud when 
	the alarm was raised; sinking them on a line over the ship's side; and 
	whisking the barrels inland, concealed in false-bottomed carts. And if a man 
	lacked adventure, the Press Gang was always lurking in Lymington.