The smugglers had reigned a long time uncontrolled; the officers of the customs were too few to encounter them; they rode in troops to fetch their goods, and carried them off in triumph by day-light; nay, so audacious were they grown, that they were not afraid of regular troops, that were sent into the country to keep them in awe; of which we had several instances. If any one of them happened to be taken, and the proof ever so clear against him, no magistrate in the county durst commit him to gaol; if he did, he was sure to have his house or barns set on fire, or some other mischief done him, if he was so happy to escape with his life, which has been the occasion of their being brought to London to be committed. But for a man to inform against them, the most cruel death was his undoubted portion; of which we already have given two melancholy instances, and could produce more; one especially is so very notorious, that we shall make a little digression, and relate a few particulars of it, and reserve a more circumstantial account till the trials of these cruel villains are over, who were the horrid perpetrators of it. Richard Hawkins, of Yapton, in the county of Sussex, labourer, being at work in a barn, two of their gang, in January 1747–8, came to the barn in the said Parish of Yapton, where the poor man was threshing corn. The names of the two men who came to him were Jeremiah Curtis, of Hawkhurst, in Kent, butcher, and John Mills, of Trotton, in Sussex, labourer (this last one of those who were concerned in the murder of Chater, and who is not yet taken), and having found Hawkins at work, as before mentioned, they told him that he must go along with them; and on his showing some reluctance to comply with their commands, they swore they would shoot him through the head that instant if he did not come away without any more words. Poor Hawkins being terrified at their threats, put on his clothes, and went along with them to the sign of the Dog and Partridge, an alehouse, on Slindon Common, and going into a back room, he saw Thomas Winter, of Poling, near Arundel, and one called Rob, or Little Fat Back, servant to Jeremiah Curtis, who lived in or near East Grinstead. In the back room these two were waiting for them. This was in the afternoon, and having kept Hawkins there till about twelve o’clock at night, took him away; but whither they carried, or what they did with him, was not known for a long time; for the man was not seen, nor heard of, till the body was found in a pond in Parham Park, belonging to Sir Cecil Bishop, in Sussex, upwards of nine months afterwards; and the coroner’s inquest, having sat on the body, they brought in their verdict of wilful murder by persons unknown.