Mary Anerley: A Yorkshire TaleBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
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Mary Anerley: A Yorkshire Tale
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Yorkshire (England) -- Fiction
Whatever may be said, it does seem hard, from a wholly disinterested
point of view, that so many mighty men, with swift ships, armed with
villainous saltpetre and sharp steel, should have set their keen faces
all together and at once to nip, defeat, and destroy as with a blow,
liberal and well-conceived proceedings, which they had long regarded
with a larger mind. Every one who had been led to embark soundly and
kindly in this branch of trade felt it as an outrage and a special
instance of his own peculiar bad luck that suddenly the officers should
become so active. For long success had encouraged enterprise; men who
had made a noble profit nobly yearned to treble it; and commerce, having
shaken off her shackles, flapped her wings and began to crow; so at
least she had been declared to do at a public banquet given by the Mayor
of Malton, and attended by a large grain factor, who was known as a
wholesale purveyor of illicit goods.
This man, Thomas Rideout, long had been the head-master of the smuggling
school. The poor sea-faring men could not find money to buy, or even
hire, the craft (with heavy deposit against forfeiture) which the
breadth and turbulence of the North Sea made needful for such ventures.
Across the narrow English Channel an open lobster boat might run, in
common summer weather, without much risk of life or goods. Smooth water,
sandy coves, and shelfy landings tempted comfortable jobs; and any man
owning a boat that would carry a sail as big as a shawl might smuggle,
with heed of the weather, and audacity. It is said that once upon the
Sussex coast a band of haymakers, when the rick was done, and their
wages in hand on a Saturday night, laid hold of a stout boat on the
beach, pushed off to sea in tipsy faith of luck, and hit upon Dieppe
with a set-fair breeze, having only a fisherman's boy for guide. There
on the Sunday they heartily enjoyed the hospitality of the natives; and
the dawn of Tuesday beheld them rapt in domestic bliss and breakfast,
with their money invested in old Cognac; and glad would they have been
to make such hay every season. But in Yorkshire a good solid capital
was needed to carry on free importation. Without broad bottoms and deep
sides, the long and turbulent and often foggy voyage, and the rocky
landing, could scarcely be attempted by sane folk; well-to-do people
found the money, and jeopardized neither their own bodies, consciences,
nor good repute. And perhaps this fact had more to do with the
comparative mildness of the men than difference of race, superior
culture, or a loftier mould of mind; for what man will fight for his
employer's goods with the ferocity inspired by his own? A thorough
good ducking, or a tow behind a boat, was the utmost penalty generally
exacted by the victors from the vanquished.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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