Looks ominous, don't it, to see nearly every gate-post and dyke-bridge
made of old ships' timber? Easy enough to tell that, from its bend, and
the tree-nail holes. Ours is a bad coast, you see; not rocky, but with
long sloping sands; and when the sea's high, and there's a gale on
shore, a vessel strikes, and there she lies, with the waves lifting her
bodily, and then letting her fall again upon the sands, shaking her all
to pieces: first the masts go, then a seam opens somewhere in her sides,
and as every wave lifts her and lets her down, she shivers and loosens,
till she as good as falls all to pieces, and the shore gets strewn with
old wreck.
Good wrecks used to be little fortunes to the folk along shore, but
that's all altered now; the coastguard look-out too sharp. Things are
wonderfully changed to what they were when I was a boy. Fine bit of
smuggling going on in those days; hardly a farmer along the coast but
had a finger in it, and ran cargoes right up to the little towns inland.
The coast was not so well watched, and people were bribed easier, I
suppose; but, at all events, that sort of thing has almost died out now.
Never had a brush with the coastguard or the cutter in my time, for we
were all on the cut-and-run system: but I had a narrow escape for my
life once, when a boat's crew came down upon us, and I'll tell you how
it was.
We were a strong party of us down on the shore off our point here at
Merthorpe, busy as could be; night calm, and still, and dark, and one of
those fast-sailing French boats--_chasse-marees_, they call them--
landing a cargo. Carts, and packhorses, and boats were all at it; and
the kegs of brandy, and barrels of tobacco, and parcels of lace were
coming ashore in fine style; I and another in a little boat kept making
trips backwards and forwards between the shore and the _chasse-maree_,
landing brandy-tubs--nice little brandy-kegs, you know, with a
VC--_Vieux Cognac_--branded on each.
I don't know how many journeys I had made, when all at once there was an
alarm given, and as it were right out of the darkness, I could see a
man-of-war's boat coming right down upon us, while, before I quite got
over the first fright, there was another in sight.
Such a scrimmage--such a scamper; boats scattering in all directions;
the French boat getting up a sail or two, and all confusion; whips
cracking, wheels ploughing through the soft sand, and horses galloping
off to get to the other side of the sandbank. We were close aside the
long, low _chasse-maree_, in our bit of a skiff thing, when the alarm
was given, and pushed off hard for the shore, which was about two
hundred yards distant, while on all sides there were other boats setting
us the example, or following in our wake; in front of us there was a
heavy cart backed as far out into the sea as she would stand, with the
horses turned restive and jibbing, for there was a heavy load behind
them, and the more the driver lashed them, the more the brutes backed
out in the shallow water, while every moment the wheels kept sinking
farther into the sand.
I saw all this as the revenue cutter's boats separated, one making for
the _chasse-maree_, and the other dashing after the flying long-shore
squadron; and as I dragged at my oar, I had the pleasure of seeing that
we must either be soon overhauled, or else leap out into the shallow
water, and run for it, and I said so to my companion.
"Oh, hang it, no," he cried; "pull on. They'll stave in the boat, and
we shall lose all the brandy."
I did pull on, for I was so far from being loyal, that I was ready to
run any risk sooner than lose the little cargo we had of a dozen
brandy-kegs, and about the same number of packages; but there seemed not
the slightest prospect of our getting off, unless we happened to be
unobserved in the darkness. However, I pulled on, and keeping off to
the right, we had the satisfaction of seeing the revenue boat row
straight on, as if not noticing us.
"Keep off a little now," I whispered, "or we shall be ashore."
"No, no--it's all right," was the reply; "we are just over the swatch;"
which is the local term given to the long channels washed out in the
sand by the tide, here and there forming deep trenches along the coast,
very dangerous for bathers.
"They see us," I whispered; when my companion backed water, and the
consequence was, that the boat's head turned right in-shore, and we
floated between the piles, and were next moment, with shipped oars, out
of sight in the outlet of the gowt.
Now, I am not prepared to give the derivation of the word "gowt," but I
can describe what it is--namely, the termination, at the sea-coast, of
the long Lincolnshire land-drains, in the shape of a lock with gates,
which are opened at certain times, to allow the drainage to flow under
the sand into the sea, but carefully closed when the tide is up, to
prevent flooding of the marsh-lands, protected by the high sea-bank,
which runs along the coast and acts the part of cliffs. From these
lock-gates, a square woodwork tunnel is formed by means of piles driven
into the shore, and crossed with stout planks; and this covered
water-way in some cases runs for perhaps two hundred yards right beneath
the sandbank, then beneath the sand, and has its outlet some distance
down the shore; while, to prevent the air blowing the tunnel up when the
sea comes in, a couple of square wooden pipes descend at intervals of
some fifty yards through the sand into the water-way; at high water,
when the mouth is covered, and the lock-gates closed, the air comes
bellowing and roaring up these pipes as every wave comes in; and at
times, when the tunnel is pretty full, the water will, after chasing the
air, rush out after it, and form a spray fountain; while, as the waves
recede, the wind rushes back with a strange whistling sound, and a
draught that draws anything down into the tunnel with a fierce rush.
But there was another peculiarity of the hollow way that was strangely
impressed upon my memory that night--namely, its power of acting as a
vast speaking-tube, for if a person stood at one of the escape-pipes and
whispered, his words were distinctly audible to another at the other
pipe some fifty yards off, who could as easily respond.
Well, it was into the mouth of the gowt tunnel that we had now run the
boat, where we were concealed from view certainly; and thrusting against
the piles with his hands, my companion worked the boat farther into the
darkness, until the keel touched the soft sand.
"That's snug," he whispered: "they'll never find us here."
"No," I said, as a strange fear came upon me. "But isn't the tide
rising?"
"Fast," he said.
"Then we shall be stopped from getting out."
"Nonsense!" he said. "It will take an hour to rise above the
tunnel-mouth, and if it did, we could run her head up higher and higher.
Plenty of fresh air through the pipes."
"If we're not drowned," I said.
"There, if you want to lose the cargo, we'll pull out at once, and give
up," he said.
"But I don't," I replied; "I am staunch enough; only I don't want to
risk my life."
"Well, who does?" he said. "Only keep still, and we shall be all
right."
The few minutes we had been conversing had been long enough for the tide
to float the boat once more, and this time I raised my hand to the root
and thrusting against the tunnel-covered, weed-hung, slimy woodwork,
soon had the boat's keel again in the sand, so as to prevent her being
sucked out by the reflux of the tide. At times we could hear shouts,
twice pistol-shots, and then we were startled by the dull, heavy report
of a small cannon.
"That's after the _chasse-maree_," whispered my companion; "but she
sails like a witch. She's safe unless they knock a spar away."
"I wish we were," I said, for I did not feel at all comfortable in our
dark hole, up which we were being forced farther and farther by the
increasing tide; while more than once we had to hold on tightly by the
horrible slimy piles, to keep from being drawn back.
"Just the place to find dead bodies," whispered my companion, evidently
to startle me.
"Just so," I said coldly. "Perhaps they'll find two to-morrow."
"Don't croak," was the polite rejoinder; and then he was silent; but I
could hear a peculiar boring noise being made, and no further attempts
at a joke issued from my friend's lips.
"Suppose we try and get out now?" I whispered, after another quarter of
an hour's listening in the darkness, and hearing nothing but the soft
rippling, and the "drip, drip" of water beyond us; while towards the
mouth came the "lap, lap" of the waves against the sides of the tunnel,
succeeded by a rushing noise, and the rattling of the loose mussels
clustering to the woodwork, now loudly, now gently; while every light
rustle of the seaweed seemed to send a shiver through me.
The noise as of boring had ceased some time, and my friend now drew my
attention to one of the kegs, which he had made a hole through with his
knife; and never before did spirits come so welcome as at that moment.
"Better try and get out now," whispered my companion.
"They must be somewhere handy, though one can't see even their boat,"
said a strange voice, which seemed hollow and echoing along the tunnel,
while the rattling of the shells and lapping of the water grew louder.
All at once I raised my head, as if to feel for the hole down which the
sound of the voice came, when, to my alarm, I struck it heavily against
the top of the tunnel, making it bleed against the shelly surface.
"Wait a bit," said my companion thickly; "they're on the look-out yet;
it's madness to go out." And I then heard a noise which told me that he
was trying to drown consciousness in the liquor to which he had made his
way.
However, it seemed to me madness to stay where we were, to be drowned
like rats in a hole; and taking advantage of the next receding wave, I
gave the boat a start, and she went down towards the mouth of the tunnel
for a little way, when a coming current would have driven her back, only
I clung to the root now very low down, and rather close to which the
boat now floated. Another thrust, and I pushed her some distance down,
but with the next wave that came in, my hand was jammed against the
slimy roof, and, unnerved with horror, I gasped: "Rouse up, Harry! the
mouth's under water!"
Hollowly sounded my voice as the wave sank, and I felt once more free,
and in sheer despair forced the boat lower down the tunnel; but this
time, when the tide came in again, I had to lie right back, the boat
rose so high, and I felt the dripping seaweed hanging from the roof weep
coldly and slimily over my face; when, before the next wave could raise
us, I thrust eagerly at the side, forcing the boat inward again, but in
the fear and darkness, got her across the tunnel, so that head and stern
were wedged, and as the next rush of water came, it smote the boat
heavily, and made her a fixture, so that in spite of my efforts, it
could not move her either way.
Wash came the water again and again, and at every dash a portion came
into the boat, drenching me to the skin; while I now became aware that
Harry Hodson was lying stupefied across the kegs, and breathing heavily.
I made one more effort to move the boat, but it was tighter than ever;
and after conquering an insane desire to dive out, and try and swim to
the mouth, I let myself cautiously down on the inner side, and stood,
with the water breast-high, clinging to the gunwale. The next moment it
rose above my mouth, lifting me from my feet, and as it rushed back,
sucked my legs beneath the boat; but I gained my feet again, and began
to wade inward.
Yet strong upon me as was the desire for life, I could not leave my
companion to his fate in so cowardly a way; so I turned back, and this
time swimming, I reached the boat, now nearly full of water; and half
dragging, half lifting, I got his body over the side, and holding on by
his collar, tried once more for bottom. But it was a horrible time
there in the dense black darkness--a darkness that, in my distempered
brain, seemed to be peopled with hideous forms, swimming, crawling, and
waiting to devour us, or fold us in their slimy coils. The dripping
water sounded hollow and echoing; strange whispers and cries seemed
floating around; the mussels rustled together: and ever louder and
louder came the "lap, lap, lapping" of the water as it rushed in and
dashed against the sides and ceiling of the horrible place.
I was now clinging with one hand to the boat's side, while with the
other I held tightly by Hodson's collar; but though I waited till the
wave receded before I tried the bottom, it was not to be touched; so,
shuddering and horror-stricken, I waited the coming wave, and struck off
swimming with all my might. It was only a minute's task; but when,
after twice trying, my feet touched the bottom, I was panting heavily,
and so nervous, that I had to lean, trembling and shaking, against the
side. But I had a tight hold of Hodson, whose head I managed to keep
above water; and it was not until warned of my danger by the rising
tide, and the difficulty I found keeping my feet that I again essayed to
press forward.
Just then, something cold and wet swept across my face, and dashing out
my arms to keep off some monster of the deep, my hands came in contact
with a round body which beat against my breast and in my horror, as I
dashed away, I was some paces ere the dragging at my limb told me that I
had left my comrade to his fate. The next moment however, he was swept
up to me; and once more clutching his collar, and keeping his head above
water, I waded slowly along the tunnel, when again I nearly lost my
hold, for the same wet slimy body swept across my face; but raising my
hand, I only dashed away one of the long strands of bladder-weed which
hung thickly from the cross timbers of the roof.
It was no hard matter to bear my companion along with me, for I had only
to keep his head up, his body floating along the surface, but my
foothold was uncertain, for now the bottom was slimy, and my feet sunk
in the ooze deeper and deeper, for I was nearing the gates through which
the fresh water of the marshes was let in; and though the water was now
only to my middle, I made my way with difficulty, for there was a
perceptible current against me.
Breathing would have been easy, had it not been for my excitement; and
now a horrid dread seemed to check the very act, for all at once I heard
a heavy reverberating noise, and the thought struck me that they were
opening the gates, and in another instant the fearful rush of fresh
water would come bearing all before it--even our lives.
In the agony of the moment I uttered a wild unearthly shriek--so fearful
a cry, that I shrank against the side afterwards, and clung to a slimy
post, trembling to hear the strange whispering echoes, as the cry
reverberated along the place, and mingled with the lapping rush of the
water, the dripping from the root and a loud sound as of a little
waterfall in front.
Now came again the shape of something round swimming up against me, and
as it struck my side, I beat at it savagely, though I smiled at my
foolish fear the next moment, for it was one of the brandy-kegs washed
out of the boat. But horror still seemed to hold me, as I waded on
farther and farther, till once more the water began to deepen, and the
ooze at the bottom grew softer; so I stopped, listening to the heavy
rushing of water in front, where the drainage escaped, and washed
heavily down, deepening the tunnel at the foot of the doors; while in
that hollow, cavernous place, growing smaller moment by moment, the
rushing sound was something hideous. Danger in front, for the great
gates might at any time be opened; and danger behind, where the tide was
coming in ceaselessly, and deepening the water around me with its
regular beating throb, minute by minute. Thoughts of the past and
present seemed to surge through my brain, so that I grew bewildered, and
had any chance of escape presented itself I could not have seized it,
though I could not but tell myself that escape was impossible. A few
minutes--ten, twenty, thirty perhaps, and the black darkness seemed to
be growing blacker.
"I must be free," I muttered; and dragging Hodson's handkerchief from
his neck, I bound it to my own, and then making them fast beneath his
arms, felt among the woodwork till I could find a place where I could
pass them through, so that I could secure him from slipping down, or
being swept away by the ebbing and flowing of the water.
I was not long in finding a place; but then the handkerchiefs were not
long enough, and I had to add one from my pocket; then I left the poor
fellow quite insensible and half-hanging from one of the timbers. And
now I waded about, searching for the mouth of the air-pipe, in the hope
of shouting up it for succour, since I felt convinced that the tide
would effectually fill the tunnel, while the very thought of the gates
being opened half-maddened me; and heedless now of who might hear me, so
that they brought succour, I hunted aimlessly about, yelling and
shrieking for aid.
It was a fearful struggle between reason and dread; and for ever dread
kept getting the upper hand: now it was a floating keg again and again
making me dash away now one of the packages hurried in by the tide;
while the strange drippings and hollow whisperings were magnified into
an infinity of horrors. Every monster with which imagination has
peopled the sea seemed to be there to attack me--strange serpent or
lizard like beasts, slimy and scaled, thronging along the ceiling or up
the sides, swimming around me, or burrowing through the sand. More than
once I actually touched some swimming object, but the contact was
momentary, and the stranger darted off. Then reason would gain
supremacy for a while; and trying to cool my throbbing brow with the
water, I thought of my position, whispered a few prayers, and
endeavoured to compose myself. There was even now a doubt: the tide
might not rise high enough to cover me; certainly it was now at my
breast, and I was standing with difficulty in the shallowest place I
could pick. The next moment, as the waves receded, it would fall to my
waist; but again it was up to my chest, and in spite of gleams of hope,
despair whispered truly that it was now higher up my chest than before.
True; but one wave in so many always came higher than the others. The
tide might still be at its height, and this be that particular wave.
I moved again and again, but ever with the same result; and at last,
despairingly, I was clinging to a shell-covered piece of timber at the
side, with the water at my chin.
A noise, a clanking noise as of chains rattling and iron striking iron;
and now hope fled, for I knew that this must be the opening of the doors
of the gowt; but, to my surprise, no rush of water followed; only a
little came, which lapped against my lips, while a rush of air smote my
forehead.
Voices, shouts, and Hodson's name uttered; but I could not shout in
reply. Then my own name; and I gave some inarticulate cry by way of
answer, while once more reason seemed to get the better of the dread,
for I knew that the far doors of the gowt had not been opened, and that
they kept up the drainage, while the pair nearest to me had only had the
pressure upon them of the water escaping from the first. And now a good
bold swim, and I could have been in the big pit-like opening between the
two pairs of gates; but the spirit was gone, the nerve was absent and
still clinging to the shelly piece of timber, I closed my eyes, for I
felt that near as rescue seemed, I could do nothing to aid it. As for
Hodson, in this time of dread, I had forgotten him--forgotten all but
the great horror of the water lap, lap, lapping at my lip, and
occasionally receding, its fizzing spray in my nostrils.
Higher and higher, covering my lip; but by a desperate effort I raised
myself a few inches, but only to go through the same agonies again, as
the water still crept up and up, slowly but surely, while in this my
last struggle my head touched the top timbers, the weed washed and swept
over it, and as I forced my fingers round the timber to which I clung,
my body floated in the water.
Another minute, and I felt that all was over, for the water covered my
face once, twice; and half strangled, I waited gasping for the third
time; but it came not. Half a minute passed, and then again it washed
over my face, seeming as if it would never leave it; but at last it was
gone, and too unnerved to hope, I awaited its return, but it came not.
I dared not hope yet, till I felt that the water was perceptibly lower,
and then the reaction was so fearful that I could hardly retain my hold
till the tide had sunk so that once more I could stand, when my shouts
for help brought assistance to me through the gowt, for they lowered
down a little skiff with ropes, and I was brought out as nearly dead as
my poor companion.
That night's work sprinkled my hair with grey, and was my last
experience with the smuggling business. The loss was heavy; but I had
escaped with life, while poor Hodson was followed to the grave by some
score the following Sunday.