The Rev. C. A. Johns, writing about 1840,(55) says that smuggling was still practised till within a few years previously. Most families on the coast were more or less engaged in it, and many of the houses had, and still have, secret underground chambers, which could be entered only through the parlour cupboard, which was furnished with a false back. Old grey‐headed adventurers talked with evident pleasure of the exciting adventures of their younger days, and of their frequent hairbreadth escapes. One sturdy veteran in particular, who since he had dropped his profession of smuggler had on many occasions risked his life in the effort to save the crews of shipwrecked vessels, told how he was chased by a king’s boat, how he threw himself overboard and swam for dear life, and how he eluded, by diving, blow after blow dealt by an oar or cutlass, at last to escape safely to land. The rowers who pursued may not have put forth their utmost strength, and the blows may have been dealt with purposed inaccuracy, for in those days there were many sailors in the navy who had been smugglers, and had a fellow‐feeling for their kind. “I can myself,” says Mr. Johns, “recollect having conversed some forty years ago with a coastguardsman who had been a smuggler, and who had with his comrades been captured by a revenue cutter. He and another were tried and convicted, and sentenced, as was then customary, to five years’ service in the navy. While on board the vessel in which they were to proceed to a foreign station, anchored at Spithead, they escaped from confinement, and threw themselves into the sea by night, with the intention of swimming ashore. They had not, however, gone far when they were descried by the sentinel on board, who gave the alarm, and they were fired at. My informant reached the shore in safety, hid himself for a short time, and being afraid to return to his own neighbourhood, entered into the preventive service, and was at the very time I saw him, after the lapse of some years, visiting his friends in his native village, and close to the scene of his early feats of daring. His comrade was not so fortunate; either he was struck by a bullet, or became exhausted before he reached the shore, and was drowned. At all events, he was never seen again.”