Coast gaurds & postmen

So, the bad news is that the postman still hasn't arrived with the first copies of my book 'Britain's Heritage Coast, Exmouth to Plymouth'. The good news is that means I have time to share a little more of South Devon's history!

One of the most evocative aspects of South Devon's long and eventful history is the story of its central role in the boom in smuggling in the 18th and 19th centuries, as described in my book, an excerpt of which is shared below, long with a picture of the atmospheric smugglers tunnel in Shaldon.

Smugglers tunnel, Shaldon

A life of smuggling

As long as there have been taxes on goods, there have been smugglers trying to avoid them, and the story of smuggling stretches a long way back into history. However, by the late 18^th and early 19^th century, what had traditionally been a small-scale local trade had exploded into a major industry and huge quantities of contraband was flooding into Britain. Devon's ports were at the centre of this industry, and the livelihood of many Devon residents became intimately linked to smuggling.

The boom in smuggling was the inevitable result of huge increases in customs and excise duties, which were applied to imported goods by successive governments struggling to pay for the endless wars with France. Duties increased steadily during the early 18^th century, and were applied to more and more imported goods, putting an increasing number of everyday items outside the meagre means of ordinary people. Historically, import duties had been collected by customs men based at Britain's major ports, and although this system worked well for centuries, it was ill-prepared for the explosion in smuggling that was to come. Some estimates suggest that at its peak in the late 18^th century, as much as a quarter of all the goods imported into Britain were illegal, and for some items such as tea, the figure was nearly two thirds. The coast of South Devon was perfect for smugglers, with its proximity to the main sources of contraband in the Channel Islands and France, its secluded beaches and coves, and the logistical problems of policing such a remote coastline.

With smuggling more profitable than fishing, and despite the risk of death by hanging if caught, many skilled sailors turned to smuggling as a way of making a good living. They crammed their ships with smuggled goods, and used their sea-faring skills to spirit them secretly across the English Channel, often in bad weather and at night to increase the chances of evading the Excise Men. Landing in secluded bays, they would be met by land-based smugglers, who would unload the boats and haul the goods up cliffs and through smugglers tunnels to secret hiding places ready for distribution. Even the gentry of society, including MPs, Magistrates and Clergymen were known to have been involved as customers of smuggled goods, and sometimes even as the coordinators and funders of major smuggling operations.

Now that the horrendous grey skies and endless rain are finally behind us, and spring has finally arrived I'm finally hoping to get out on the South Devon coast soon, taking in the sea air and take some more photos of the stunning coastline to share soon. In the mean time, if you've enjoyed this and want to read more, then my book is available for sale now at www.garyholpin.co.uk