My Diary --A good Sunny Day

Hi Mavis

I think he told Pip he would cut his heart and liver out. Nasty.

Smugglers ah. Me an ex Customs Officer too.

Glad you enjoyed your day. Good luck with the quz.

Sue xxxx

I didnt like to put the whole story on here as it isnt about Cancer but on my own blog i wrote this.

I hope you enjoy a good read and the history that this area has.

These are the Seasalter marshes, where Dickens imagined Magwitch threatening to cut out Pip's liver unless he fetched him food , and where some say Daniel Defoe was inspired to write Robinson Crusoe.

Faversham Road is the only manmade route across the marsh. And it goes on and on, steep grass banks and sea walls keeping back the water on one side, flat infinity on the other

We have a history of Smugglers and I have found this lovely write up:-

Today, Seasalter is little more than a hamlet, and in the 18th and 19th centuries it was equally isolated. This isolation was turned to advantage by a smuggling fraternity who based their operations in the area. Wallace Harvey investigated the business of 'the Seasalter Company' as he calls it, with great thoroughness, and by tracing property transactions and marriage certificates, has built up an intriguing picture of flourishing commerce.  

During the 18th century the coast at Seasalter was an ideal spot for landing goods. The beach consisted of mud and shingle, so there was little risk of damage in beaching vessels, and open marshland backed onto the shore. The nearby Forest of Blean provided plenty of cover for the landed goods.

The modus operandi of the Seasalter company was to land goods close to the Blue Anchor pub, then ship them inland to Lenham, where heavy carts could load up with the brandy and tobacco for onward shipment to the major markets in London. Blue House farm was the base at the Lenham end, and Seasalter Cross farm and Pink Farm (which benefited from cunningly-concealed compartments, windowless rooms, and secret shafts) were both used as coastal depots for storage.

The headquarters of the Seasalter company was Seasalter Parsonage farm — now a private house in the village. The route the smugglers took from the coast was via Pink Farm, Yorkletts, Dargate, Herne Hill, to White Hill along Brogdale Road, and then on to Lenham. At Seasalter Cross, cargoes of tobacco were stored in greatly-enlarged haystacks (though this ruse would have worked only when the wind was blowing in the right direction, for the aroma of tobacco would have alerted a customs man standing 50 yards away.)

It seems that the Seasalter company were either in league with the preventive forces, or at least had developed a policy of peaceful coexistence. One tale serves to illustrate how this worked: one of the company would stand close to the coastguards' cottages at Seasalter, and bellow 'The coast is clear' at the top of his voice. In what was clearly a well-rehearsed pantomime, this would lure the 'suspicious' coastguard, into pursuing the 'smuggler', who would of course head away from the true landing point. In order to make pursuit more difficult, the decoy carried a long plank, which he used to bridge the numerous dykes. The panting coastguard had to take the long way round, and the cat-and-mouse game kept suspicious eyes off the truly dubious activities on the coast.

In the course of time the Seasalter company had cause to take more care in its illegal activities, and eventually developed an elaborate signaling system. A chain of houses had rods running up their chimneys or a tree outside, with a broom attached at the top. Pushing the rod from the grate end raised the broom, and the signal was copied down the line. The signalling points were Moat House in Blean, Frogs Hall, Honey Hill farm in Blean, a house at Pean Hill built by the company, Clapham Hill Farm, Martin Down Mill, and on to Borstal and eventually to Whitstable. At night a lantern in a window replaced the broom in the chimney.

The Seasalter company flourished for over a century from 1740, and must have made many fortunes for its partners. Certainly one man, William Baldock, benefited to an unprecedented degree: when he died in 1812, he left over a million pounds — more than £200 million in today's money.