The Exploits of an 18th Century Entrepreneur

The Exploits of an 18th Century Entrepreneur

'A Smugglers Tale'

John Needham


USD 23,99

Format: 13.5 x 21.5 cm
Number of Pages: 250
ISBN: 978-3-99048-724-2
Release Date: 16.10.2017
This rags to riches story, set in the 18th century, charts a young boy’s rise to fame as he becomes the most important seaman in the smuggling world but one man has made it his life’s mission to put Robert behind bars and he just won’t give up, or will he?
Chapter 1

My name is Roger Bruce Smith and this is my story, born on the 10th April 1720 into a large family, being the youngest of seven children, four older brothers and two older sisters, with fifteen years separating me and my eldest brother. We were not the richest family but at the same time, we were not the poorest by any means. Our mother and father worked hard doing long hours and with little rest, just to put food on the table and clothes on our backs, but what we lacked in wealth we gained in love. When I look back all those years ago to my childhood, I can say without any doubt I actually enjoyed it. Those carefree years when I had nothing to worry about except maybe those times when I had done something wrong and mother would say “wait till your father comes home you can explain to him what you have done,” and when he did come home after work I would be summoned downstairs and I would have to stand there in front of him, not frightened and to be honest not really worried, whilst he sat in his favourite chair in the snug in front of a roaring wood fire, smoking his favourite pipe. Head bowed I would then have to recall in detail what I had done and why I did it. When I had finished explaining, I knew what the punishment was to be, the strap or be sent to bed with no tea just by the look he would give me.
Invariably, I would have to go to bed with no tea but there were occasions when I had done something really wrong and I would get the strap and by god that did hurt and I never did whatever I did again, well let’s say my parents never found out. But generally life was good. Unlike most children in the area, I had four older brothers and two older sisters who would look after me, protecting me from the local bullies and by god was there a few who would sometimes chance their luck and be waiting for me after school, along the lane hiding in one of the many fox holes littered along the road side. But unknown to them, my older brothers would be also waiting for them and dispatch them with ease, and then we would walk home, knowing a good job had been done that day. Until one day, when one of the fathers of the bullies came knocking on our door with a blood soaked son at his side, sporting a very bloody, broken nose. Father was not at all happy and this time, we all thought we were in real trouble, even though my brothers were now of an age that was beyond being sent to bed without their tea, but when Mother started, it did not matter your age, you just listened to what she had to say.
But this was one of those rare times when father backed us up, pointing out to the young lad’s father, the errors of their son’s ways and what did he expect when they were the aggressor and his son was the target. Then sending them on their way with a flee in their ear.
Instead of getting the strap that night, Father thanked my elder brothers for looking out for me and ensuring I was safe, but as I sit here today, all those years later, trying to recall my childhood, I do remember an incident which landed me into very serious hot water and not only with my father. I was around five years old and didn’t really know what my father did for a living and to be honest, I did not really care. I knew he worked in the forest as a woodsman but that was about all, but as for his nocturnal activities as a child, I had been shielded from them. The reason being, was what I did not know about I could not talk about. But on this particular day, I was out on my own in Stroud, running an errand for mother. If I remember, I was sent out to get some eggs for breakfast, when I was approached by this well dressed gentleman who said he knew my father very well and he would approve of what he was going to ask me to do. That being, to deliver a small package to the local house on the hill and he even offered me 2d if I would do it. Not seeing anything wrong with his request and being paid 2d to run the errand was a bonus and 2d was a lot of money to me in those days, so I agreed, not really knowing what world I was about to enter into. Anyway, as I said, I did as I was asked and delivered the package on time and to the address the gentleman gave me. It was not far away, only a ten-minute walk across the village.
On returning from my errand, I received my payment of 2d for my troubles from the gentleman who, as agreed, was waiting for me outside the ‘Bell Inn’. I then ran all the way home proudly giving the 2d to my father who asked me “where did you get it from and tell me what did you have to do to receive such a payment?”
I then went onto explain how I had met this well dressed gentleman whilst running an errand for Mother and then I told Father what this gentleman had asked of me, that being to deliver this small brown package to one of the local houses on the hill. I never expected the response I got from my father, he leapt out from his chair making for the front door, Mother came running over and pulled me away, sending me to bed. All I remember was, how I was shaking so badly that I could not sleep that night. All I did was to cry and cry. For god’s sake, I was only five years old and had no idea that I had done anything wrong. All I had done was to deliver a package, wrapped in brown paper and I did not know what was in it and I did not think to even ask, not knowing I was doing anything wrong.
This at such a young age was to be my introduction to the life of a smuggler and what they would do to get what they wanted. The goods I had delivered was only tea, tea that had been smuggled into the country the night before in a large shipment of wine and tea.
When Father returned home later that evening, he came into my bedroom and then he explained what I had done was not wrong but dangerous and I should never do such a thing again and if approached, just politely decline the offer and thank the gentlemen kindly for asking and then come and tell us. My father then explained if I had been caught, I would have been in very serious trouble and my age was no defence when caught smuggling or even with smuggled goods on me. The local paper reported stories of children being caught and sent to the local goal for smuggling and in some cases, even deported to the plantations for seven years.
The local revenue officers would more than likely come knocking at our door and that’s something we really didn’t want. As for the 2d, my father said it was mine and I could spend it as I liked. Of course I did not spend it. I placed it in an old battered money box, handed down from my older brothers and there it stayed until today, as I still have that old money box and in it is still that 2d I earned that day. The very first wages I had ever received. As for the old gentleman, Father had paid him a visit and gently reminded him not to ask me to do anything like that again. The matter was never spoken of again until today, as I recall those events in this book.


Chapter 2

Looking back throughout my childhood I was a fearless child I would be the one that would go into the farmer’s fields pinching carrots or climb the farmer’s apple trees and pinch an apple and never once was I caught by the farmer, but I never found out how but mother and father always knew when I had ventured into the farmer’s fields or up his apple trees.
But there was one occasion when I was ten years old and looking back, when I did even scare myself half to death and I really thought I was about to meet my maker. The year was 1730 and being ten years old, I was allowed to play as a child down on the beach, not far from Port Douglas, only as long as I told mother where I was going. On this occasion, I think it was Brandy Bay if I remember rightly. But, when the tide was out, I came across a large cave cut into the face of the cliff by the sea. Now me being me, I decided to investigate what was inside and at the age of ten, I was still unsure of how the tides run in the area, but let’s just say the tide was out when I entered the cave and access to the cave was very easy. The sea was about thirty to forty feet away from the cave entrance allowing you to easily walk into the cave without getting your feet wet and this was all new to me, so how was I to know that when the tide came in it blocked the entrance meaning only access to the cave entrance was at low tide or by boat at high tide. If you are a smuggler landing and hiding your contraband, all you would need to do would be to sail into the bay and make for the entrance to the cave, lower your boat and then off load straight into the cave, easy, as I was to do later in life. But at age of ten, I had never seen this cave before and as such, never been in it. So, me being me, I decided to play at being a swash buckling pirate. I found a stick that looked like a pirate’s sword, laying around at the entrance to the cave and so I pretended to fight the most dangerous Pirate, Captain Pike, of the Rose, who ruled these waters and of course, as always, I won and saw off the pirates and made off with their fortune.
By this time, I was now very deep inside the cave in my own little world of pirates and my quest was to rescue the maidens in distress from the pirates and of course, everybody’s enemy, the revenue officers. As time went on, I noticed it was starting to get dark and I needed to get home, so I made for the cave entrance, only to be greeted by the sea crashing into the cave and the tide coming in very fast, filling the cave entrance. I was cut off with no way to leave the cave.. My heart sunk into my stomach and I started to panic, how was I to get home to safety and more to the point what must Mum and Dad be thinking. This area was more dangerous than most people realized, much more dangerous than even I realized, at such a young age. All I could think of was how was I going to get home and images of my brothers and parents panicking, wondering what had happened to me and a search party being organized to come looking for me. My mother, well, I could not imagine what she would be thinking, as for Father, all I could picture was his strap coming off. I had to get out of this cave and get home. I then remembered overhearing my father tell a visitor to the house about this cave the smugglers use and how you entered from the beach at low tide and left via a secret exit at the rear of the cave, into the forest that reached down to the cliff edge.
Without thinking, I started to move to the back of the cave, soon realizing I was climbing and that I soon would be safe from the incoming sea, as the tide rose which made me feel slightly safer. I carried on walking deeper and deeper into the cave and it soon got very dark, to the point it was pitch black, but then all of a sudden, I thought I was seeing things. As I turned a corner in the cave, I suddenly realized there was a light glowing in the distance and sure enough, as I got closer to the light, the cave opened out into a large cavern, well lit with candles and there, sat around a large fire, with a group of rather bedraggled men, was one rather familiar face. it was my father. What was he doing here, I asked myself, he never noticed me straight away but then one of the men turned and asked “what have we here then?” pointing across at me. I panicked, making a dash for the side of the cave and the exit which was at the top of some very steep slippery steps. But, before I could make it to the top, I slipped, falling back into the perusing man’s arms, who grabbed my arms tightly and pulled me over. I started to struggle and pulled myself free whilst screaming at him to let me go, he then drew his knife and pushed me up against the side of the cave and held it to my throat. With his face inches from mine, I could smell the sweat and god his breath stank. Suddenly, as fast as he had moved in on me, he let me go and moved away with the point of a dagger placed firmly in his side. I heard a familiar voice ask me “Well what the hell are you doing here son? And why are you not at home with your mother?”
With that he picked me up and turned to the man who had held the knife to my throat and pointed out that if he had harmed me, he would have slit his throat from ear to ear. “For god’s sake, this is my son, just go and sit down and leave this to me.”
A few more words were exchanged and the man turned and re-joined his friends next to the fire. This was to be my first introduction into the true life of a smuggler. It turns out my father was a smuggler and a good one by all accounts. I thought to myself, my father is a smuggler and I had to admit, I was rather proud of that fact., I’d had my suspicions for a few years, but it really was true, he was a smuggler. I was excited with the thought of him being a swash buckling buccaneer, riding the waves in his ship whilst being pursued by the authorities. Looking back, it was a rather childish thought, but I was only ten years old and rather impressionable.
He gathered me up and took my arm, telling those around the fire to make way for him and his son. We sat down by the fire where I told him the story of what had happened and how I had got cut off by the rising tide and that evening I was the greatest pirate from Port Douglas and I had seen off a troop of dragoons single handed, making everybody in the cave laugh out loud and the echo of the laughter sounded throughout the cavern, but then I had been caught out by the tide, cut off from the beach and unable to get home. I then told my father how I had remembered the stories being told about a cave, this cave, I believe and how the smugglers used it to hide their contraband and how there was an exit to the forest at the back of the cave, so I decided to see if this was the cave and made my way further into the back of cave, until I found you which I said was really lucky.
“Now I have found you, you can help me explain what happened to me to mother can’t you please?" In which case I shall not be in so much trouble. By now I was wandering around the cave looking at all of the boxes and barrels littered around the cavern and thinking what may be in them, I thought to myself best not to ask or touch anything. Father turned back to the group, finished his business & called me over and we left the cave by the one exit at the rear of the cave, leaving the men to carry out my father’s orders; that being the delivery of the hundreds of kegs stored within the cavern to whoever they were to going to.
I never did find out where they were to go to or for that matter, what was in them. Like I say, best not to know, then you cannot tell anyone. But the men with Father were more worried about me talking and letting everyone know of what I had seen that night, which Father assured them I would not. On the way home, Father asked me “What will we tell your mother when we get home then? More than likely I will be in as much trouble as you are for once.” “No tea for both of us then I said.” With that, we both laughed and carried on walking towards home. On reaching home, I remember we quietly opened the front door and standing there waiting was Mother, with a face like thunder and the largest wooden spoon in her hand that I had ever seen. God we were in trouble alright, I thought to myself. Tea was ready and waiting for us. Mother ordered me to sit down and eat my tea, which I did, quietly, whilst Father explained to Mother what had happened. Mother was not happy and if I remember rightly, she slapped Father across the face and shouted across the room that this must never happen again. After I had eaten my tea, I was sent to bed early. The next day, I did try and explain to Mother that Father had nothing to do with me entering the cave and getting cut off by the tide and actually, that it was lucky Father was in the cave at the time, to bring me home safely. But Mother was having none of it, it was Father’s fault for encouraging me to play such games. From that point onwards, I would help Father as much as I could and as much as Mother would allow and you will see, as my life unfolds through this book, smuggling was to play a very large part in my life, in fact, it was my life. I was to become a very well-known and respected smuggler and my family’s lives would also revolve around the life of a smuggler.
I would also make my fortune this way, allowing me to build a small empire to be proud of and hand down to my children.
But, what was to help me on more than one occasion, was my second sense when it came to danger. I was never afraid of following my instinct, whatever hand fate dealt me. It saved my life and my friends’ lives many times. It also helped that I had a number of revenue officers in my pocket, feeding me information on the comings and goings of the officers, and my main adversary, John Baites, who was to take over from James Watts who’d retired by the time I brought my first vessel. John was to become such a thorn in my side, causing me many sleepless nights.


Chapter 3

Going back to my childhood and growing up with my older brothers and sisters, with such an age gap between me and my eldest brother, at times, it was like being an only child. I soon found my own company was all I needed. For my mother and father, having me so late in life proved quite a drain on their finances.
But knowing how hard times were, I did try and do my bit and would help by running errands for them and helping around the house as much as I could. As I got older, I would go down to the harbour with Father in Port Douglas and earn a penny or two by helping out, cleaning the decks of some of the ships that would frequent Port Douglas. I especially liked working on the ship captained by Captain Flanagan, somebody who would play a great part in my life and would also prove to become a great friend and ally, of which, you will soon get to read about. But growing up in and around the little village of Port Douglas was the best thing that could have happened to me, with so much to do and so much to see. The harbour was a bustling and busy little harbour, with so much coming and going and for such a small lad I was mesmerized, everything seemed so big and exciting. I would ask if I could go on board some of the vessels and on one, I remember meeting a young lad about the same age as myself, the captain’s son I believe, dammed if I can remember his name, but we would spend hours playing on board the ‘Lynton’, climbing the rigging and pretending we were pirates and walking the plank. We had some fun in those days; care free with nothing to worry about. I never did find out what happened to him after all these years. He was older than me by a couple of years from what I remember. My memory today is not as sharp as it used to be, maybe one day I will remember his name then I will have to look him up. I know the name of the little boat; it was the Lynton, a small lugger of around 50 tons. I know I will ask Roger my son to check the list of vessels that are registered to Port Douglas; you never know he might turn something up. But it’s more than likely, she’s long gone to the breakers yard, as she was not in the best state back in those days. She was tired and letting in water back then. But for now, let’s return to my little story.
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