Smugglers and Smuggling in Hastings and East Sussex


'No business carried on in Hastings was more popular and extensive as that of smuggling. Defrauding the revenue, so far from being considered a crime, was looked upon as a laudable pursuit, and the most successful 'runners' were heroes. Nearly the whole of the inhabitants, old and young and of every station in life, were, to some extent, engaged in it.' So states one of the best contemporary chroniclers of the smuggling age, Hastings schoolteacher John Banks, who painted a vivid picture of the colourful local characters and goings-on here in the early 1870s. One of his stories relates to a popular local man, Jemmy Roper, master of a fast lugger (a type of two-masted sailing ship) known as Little Ann, and shows just how blatant was the smuggling, and how corruptible were the customs men, at the time. Roper was well known as one of the foremost ‘free traders’ around Hastings and his polite and amiable nature made him well-liked by all. On this occasion, while landing his boat near the centre of St Leonards he made the mistake of arriving before his reception committee was ready to offload the smuggled cargo. With even worse timing, a customs officer arrived on the scene and cursed Roper, saying he was a fool for arriving early, and that he would now be obliged to seize the goods. While the two men squared up to one another, the owner of the cargo arrived and negotiations began. It was agreed that the customs officer could seize ten tubs of spirits but would turn a blind eye to the rest. Once the boat was unloaded and 'the gentlemen' safely away, the officer fired his pistol into the air to summon his colleages who helped to carrying the seized goods away. But the customs men were not always so tractable. In another story involving Jemmy Roper, Banks tells how ‘It was the custom some fifty years ago for people connected with the contraband trade to assemble in small parties of ten or twelve on the east and west hills on a summer evening, for the purpose of regaling themselves with 'brandy and milk' and enjoying a pipe therewith. So common was this practice that it was thought nothing of by the people in general. Indeed, the merchants on the other side of the Channel not infrequently 'threw in' an extra half-keg of spirits for the express purpose. Townspeople passing for a walk were, if known, invited to 'take a glass,'. It was on such a summer’s evening in 1825 that Roper and his friends were enjoying their ‘brandy and milk’ near the ruins of the Castle when Henry Isum, a quartermaster stationed at Hastings, approached and ordered them to put out their lantern, with which he suspected they were making signals. Roper refused, and Isum drew his pistol and fired indiscriminately into the party. The bullet wounded Roper in the fleshy part of his thigh, where it was to remain for the rest of his life. Accused of shooting with intent to kill, Isum was committed to trial at the Horsham assizes and after long deliberation he was acquitted by the jury, though it was rumoured the counsel for the defence had the King's pardon in his pocket in case of a guilty verdict. After this incident Jemmy Roper lived on in Hastings working as captain of a large pleasure boat until he died, a well respected member of the local community, in 1851. Behind its popular romanticised image, there was a much darker side to smuggling. As the influx of untaxed, cheap goods from the continent grew, so did the damage it caused to legitimate English traders and craftspeople such as lace-makers and silk-weavers. The widespread import of ‘Geneva’ (gin) fuelled an epidemic of English alcoholism. Gradually the illicit trade lost its ‘cottage industry’ character and attracted more serious and better organised criminal gangs, a far cry from the image of wily but harmless local characters operating in cahoots with the local population. These gangs were quite prepared to use whatever violence and intimidation was required to protect their business investments, and a number of incidents where things got ‘out of hand’ contributed to the loss of sympathy of local communities that smuggling had previously relied upon. The notorious ‘Ruxley’s Crew’ were a lawless and violent gang from the Hastings area who gave the appearance of being fishermen, though their real trade ranged from smuggling to outright piracy. They gained a reputation for robbing and plundering any vessel they could, even putting to sea in rough weather and pretending to go to the aid of struggling ships. Having boarded, they tied up their crewmembers and carried off their cargoes before scuppering the ships with all hands.	In August 1768 four of the Ruxley Crew tried to capture a small Dutch vessel off Beachy Head but were driven off, except for one gang member who was captured and hoisted into the Dutch ship’s rigging by its captain. His fellows, incensed by the treatment of their man, returned with reinforcements and succeeded in taking the Dutch ship before exacting violent revenge on her crew. In particular, they singled out the captain and chopped through his spine with an axe, leaving him to die in agony. Through their drunken boasting in various public houses, it became well known who had carried out this grisly act of piracy and murder. The terrible story seems to have caused public outrage and the people of Hastings demanded something be done, even attacking the mayor when he failed to take action. Finally a detachment of several hundred dragoons was despatched to the town to capture Ruxley’s Crew and to keep order among the population. During the following months 13 members of the gang were arrested and tried (in London, since it was feared that no local jury would dare convict them) and four of their number were hanged. The incident left Hastings’ smugglers and fishermen alike with the nicknames of ‘chopbacks’ or ‘choppies’. But the violence was not all one-sided, and despite their reputation for being ineffectual and readily bribed, the preventative forces could at times also be excessively brutal. In 1821 Joseph Swaine, a Hastings fisherman, was shot and killed in a struggle with an exciseman who was damaging his nets while trying to search his fishing boat. Swaine became a local martyr, with the Hastings mob baying for the blood of his killer. The exciseman, George England, was convicted of murder but much to the fury of the Hastings locals he was reprieved shortly afterwards and the sentence was never carried out, Civil disturbance followed, and dragoons were sent in to restore order whilst England was discharged from his job and spirited out of harm's way before the mob could take the law into their own hands. Swaine is now commemorated by a ‘blue plaque’ marking the site of his house on The Bourne. Finally, in All Saints churchyard, there is an 1873 tombstone of a local smuggler who was shot and killed at sea by a revenue officer, with an inscription that reads: ‘May it be known tho’ I am clay, A base man took my life away; But freely him I do forgive, And hope in heaven we shall live’.
If you missed our June issue, you can visit our archive to read the first part of this article. There are so many good local smuggling stories we could have written a lot more (‘Smuggler of the Month’ anyone?) so let us know if you’d like more in a later issue. In the meantime we recommend the excellent www.smuggling.co.uk, or you can go to the popular Smuggler’s Adventure in St Clement’s caves on East Hill. And when Hastings Museum and Art Gallery reopens soon you can see the smuggling exhibits there.

'No business carried on in Hastings was more popular and extensive as that of smuggling. Defrauding the revenue, so far from being considered a crime, was looked upon as a laudable pursuit, and the most successful 'runners' were heroes. Nearly the whole of the inhabitants, old and young and of every station in life, were, to some extent, engaged in it.'

So states one of the best contemporary chroniclers of the smuggling age, Hastings schoolteacher John Banks, who painted a vivid picture of the colourful local characters and goings-on here in the early 1870s. One of his stories relates to a popular local man, Jemmy Roper, master of a fast lugger (a type of two-masted sailing ship) known as Little Ann, and shows just how blatant was the smuggling, and how corruptible were the customs men, at the time. Roper was well known as one of the foremost ‘free traders’ around Hastings and his polite and amiable nature made him well-liked by all. On this occasion, while landing his boat near the centre of St Leonards he made the mistake of arriving before his reception committee was ready to offload the smuggled cargo. With even worse timing, a customs officer arrived on the scene and cursed Roper, saying he was a fool for arriving early, and that he would now be obliged to seize the goods. While the two men squared up to one another, the owner of the cargo arrived and negotiations began. It was agreed that the customs officer could seize ten tubs of spirits but would turn a blind eye to the rest. Once the boat was unloaded and 'the gentlemen' safely away, the officer fired his pistol into the air to summon his colleages who helped to carrying the seized goods away.

But the customs men were not always so tractable. In another story involving Jemmy Roper, Banks tells how ‘It was the custom some fifty years ago for people connected with the contraband trade to assemble in small parties of ten or twelve on the east and west hills on a summer evening, for the purpose of regaling themselves with 'brandy and milk' and enjoying a pipe therewith. So common was this practice that it was thought nothing of by the people in general. Indeed, the merchants on the other side of the Channel not infrequently 'threw in' an extra half-keg of spirits for the express purpose. Townspeople passing for a walk were, if known, invited to 'take a glass,'. It was on such a summer’s evening in 1825 that Roper and his friends were enjoying their ‘brandy and milk’ near the ruins of the Castle when Henry Isum, a quartermaster stationed at Hastings, approached and ordered them to put out their lantern, with which he suspected they were making signals. Roper refused, and Isum drew his pistol and fired indiscriminately into the party. The bullet wounded Roper in the fleshy part of his thigh, where it was to remain for the rest of his life. Accused of shooting with intent to kill, Isum was committed to trial at the Horsham assizes and after long deliberation he was acquitted by the jury, though it was rumoured the counsel for the defence had the King's pardon in his pocket in case of a guilty verdict.

After this incident Jemmy Roper lived on in Hastings working as captain of a large pleasure boat until he died, a well respected member of the local community, in 1851.

Behind its popular romanticised image, there was a much darker side to smuggling. As the influx of untaxed, cheap goods from the continent grew, so did the damage it caused to legitimate English traders and craftspeople such as lace-makers and silk-weavers. The widespread import of ‘Geneva’ (gin) fuelled an epidemic of English alcoholism. Gradually the illicit trade lost its ‘cottage industry’ character and attracted more serious and better organised criminal gangs, a far cry from the image of wily but harmless local characters operating in cahoots with the local population. These gangs were quite prepared to use whatever violence and intimidation was required to protect their business investments, and a number of incidents where things got ‘out of hand’ contributed to the loss of sympathy of local communities that smuggling had previously relied upon. The notorious ‘Ruxley’s Crew’ were a lawless and violent gang from the Hastings area who gave the appearance of being fishermen, though their real trade ranged from smuggling to outright piracy. They gained a reputation for robbing and plundering any vessel they could, even putting to sea in rough weather and pretending to go to the aid of struggling ships. Having boarded, they tied up their crewmembers and carried off their cargoes before scuppering the ships with all hands.

Hastings Chopbacks

In August 1768 four of the Ruxley Crew tried to capture a small Dutch vessel off Beachy Head but were driven off, except for one gang member who was captured and hoisted into the Dutch ship’s rigging by its captain. His fellows, incensed by the treatment of their man, returned with reinforcements and succeeded in taking the Dutch ship before exacting violent revenge on her crew. In particular, they singled out the captain and chopped through his spine with an axe, leaving him to die in agony. Through their drunken boasting in various public houses, it became well known who had carried out this grisly act of piracy and murder. The terrible story seems to have caused public outrage and the people of Hastings demanded something be done, even attacking the mayor when he failed to take action. Finally a detachment of several hundred dragoons was despatched to the town to capture Ruxley’s Crew and to keep order among the population. During the following months 13 members of the gang were arrested and tried (in London, since it was feared that no local jury would dare convict them) and four of their number were hanged. The incident left Hastings’ smugglers and fishermen alike with the nicknames of ‘chopbacks’ or ‘choppies’.

But the violence was not all one-sided, and despite their reputation for being ineffectual and readily bribed, the preventative forces could at times also be excessively brutal. In 1821 Joseph Swaine, a Hastings fisherman, was shot and killed in a struggle with an exciseman who was damaging his nets while trying to search his fishing boat. Swaine became a local martyr, with the Hastings mob baying for the blood of his killer. The exciseman, George England, was convicted of murder but much to the fury of the Hastings locals he was reprieved shortly afterwards and the sentence was never carried out, Civil disturbance followed, and dragoons were sent in to restore order whilst England was discharged from his job and spirited out of harm's way before the mob could take the law into their own hands. Swaine is now commemorated by a ‘blue plaque’ marking the site of his house on The Bourne.

Finally, in All Saints churchyard, there is an 1873 tombstone of a local smuggler who was shot and killed at sea by a revenue officer, with an inscription that reads: ‘May it be known tho’ I am clay, A base man took my life away; But freely him I do forgive, And hope in heaven we shall live’.

If you missed our June issue, you can visit our archive to read the first part of this article. There are so many good local smuggling stories we could have written a lot more (‘Smuggler of the Month’ anyone?) so let us know if you’d like more in a later issue.

In the meantime we recommend the excellent www.smuggling.co.uk, or you can go to the popular Smuggler’s Adventure in St Clement’s caves on East Hill. And when Hastings Museum and Art Gallery reopens soon you can see the smuggling exhibits there.