Cat Nab and Old Saltburn
Have fish and chips in the Ship Inn,
and you will be in the home of John Andrew’s
smuggling trade, connected by an underground passage to the white house on the
hill where my great x3 grandfather lived
Old King Saltburn, dear old Saltburn!
How long in the valley is he,
Could he tell us his merry exploits
What a jolly good fellow he’d be!
(John Farndale,
1864)
Directions
Old Saltburn
is the small hamlet almost at sea level below the towering Victorian town of Saltburn-by-the-Sea. It
lies around a small hillock, called Cat Nab, which can be climbed for a view
about the place. In summertime it is very busy but there are some large car
parks. There are plenty of places at Cat Nab to buy fish and chips or an ice
cream.
If you have
a little longer, you could buy your fish and chips in the Ship Inn, of which John Andrew, the Smuggler King, was
once the proprietor. If you look up to the top of the hill you will see the
white house, where he once lived, once connected by passages underground. If
you take a walk along the cliff path, you will get a flavour of the relationship
of Old Saltburn with the North Sea, then generally called the German Ocian.
Although we
will return to Saltburn-by-the-Sea
and Hunt Cliff, for the time
being ignore the new town above Old Saltburn, and keep your perspective on the
small hamlet at the Ship Inn.
John Farndale
wrote At the foot of the steep aclivity on which
New Saltburn stands, runs a small rivulet, called Skelton Beck, and two or
three hundred yards further to the south east appears Old Saltburn, described
by Mr Ord, in his History of Cleveland, as situated “upon the sea and under a
mountain,” and certainly a more isolated, strange, and desolate looking place
to build on cannot be conceived; yet, strange to say, Old Saltburn, in former
days, was a thriving fishing and smuggling place. At that time
it exported and imported merchandise of all kinds. It then contained two public
houses, and many a gin shop where a glass of real unadulterated Geneva could be
had for a penny. Here a large and profitable contraband trade was carried on,
the principal articles smuggled being Hollands gin, rum, brandy, silks, tea,
tobacco &c, and most of the business in this line was carried on between
sun set and day break, during which time many a cart
load of smuggled goods got clear off and was soon “over the hills and far
away”. Every man in the place then had a private vault, where his smuggled
goods were stowed away, and there was not then throughout Christendom a
happier, a braver, and a merrier set of fellows than the fishermen and lawless
smugglers of Old Saltburn.
Old
Saltburn
Old Saltburn
around Cat Nab, was an eighteenth century fishing
village. In 1856, there was a hamlet around the Ship Inn, comprising a row of
houses where farmers and fishermen lived. The author Laurence
Sterne who wrote The Life and
Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman
and his eccentric friend John Hall
Stevenson of the Crazy Castle at Skelton, raced chariots on the
sands at Saltburn, but otherwise it was but a small fishing hamlet.
In 1763, a 30 ton sloop went aground at Old Saltburn after the crew had
gone ashore and left a boy on board the anchored vessel. It was carrying
contraband including over one thousand gallons of brandy and three hundred
gallons of gin. Two men from Skelton,
Tommy Tiplady and Bill Richardson, were to help unload it. The Customs and
Excise tax on a gallon of brandy was over 5 shillings, which was the equivalent
of a week’s wages and some thought the high profits to
be made were worth the risk of the heavy penalties if they were caught. Apart
from the tax on wine and spirits, a duty was levied on imported tobacco, tea,
coffee, linen and even some household items.
Old Saltburn
became the centre of a
smuggling trade in the late eighteen century. The houses were closely packed and contraband was passed between houses and there
were secret rooms to evade the Excise men. Everyone seemed to be involved, from
locals, to farmers and landowners. Like Robin
Hood, the general view was that smugglers were harmless local folk,
avoiding paying unfair tax. Old Saltburn was a remote hamlet close to hidden
beaches hidden by high cliffs, where smuggled goods could be landed.
Smuggling
was an accepted way of life for English coastal villages in the late eighteenth
and early nineteenth Centuries and it was an activity engaged in by all sorts
of people across the social scale from farmhands to clergymen to local gentry.
Entire villages would turn out to help hide the contraband goods before the
arrival of the preventive officers. Folklore and local legend admired the
antics of the smugglers who were, probably wrongly, perceived as harmless men,
who were merely trying to avoid paying an unlawful tax
The late
eighteenth century was a time of expensive wars against America and France and
heavy and unpopular taxes were imposed on imported goods such as gin, tea,
brandy and textiles to raise funds.
Tales of how
the local community out-witted the customs officers
soon became part of local folklore. One tale has an old woman hiding a keg of
spirits underneath her skirts whilst customs officers performed a spot raid of
her house. Another tale tells of a mother who found herself victim of a surprise
search wrapping a jar of spirit in her baby's clothes, and walking past the
guards with it cradled in her arms.
Saltburn's
most famous smuggler was John Andrew,
who happens to be the website author’s great x3 grandfather.
John Farndale
later wrote that some years ago Old Saltburn imported lime, lime stones, and
coal, and also exported oak timber, prop wood, corf rods, alum
and corn. It had a coal yard and lime kilns, and there was a large alum house
near Cat Nab. My grandfather, who was a Kiltonian,
employed many men at this alum house, and many a merry tale I have heard him
tell of smugglers and their daring adventures and hair breadth escapes. The
lime kilns and coal yard were kept by old Mr William Cooper, whose sloop, “The
Two Brothers”, was continually employed in the coasting trade. Behind the alum
house, Thomas Hutchinson, Esq., late of Brotton
House, made an easy carriage road from Saltburn to that place, which road will
always be a lasting monument to his memory.
In former
days, there were frequently seen lying before Old Saltburn three luggers at a
time, all laden with contraband goods, and the song of the crews used to be:- “If we should to the Scottish coast hie, We’ll make
Captain Ogleby, the king’s cutter, fly”.
The
government, however, being determined to put a stop to this nefarious traffic,
a party of coast guards, with their cutlasses, swords, spy glasses, and dark
lanterns, were sent to the Blue House, at Old Saltburn. This came like a
thunderbolt upon the astonished Saltburnians. They
made, however, two more efforts to continue the trade – one proved successful,
the other not.
The last lugger
but one bound to Saltburn was chased by the King’s cutter, and running aground
at Marske, she was taken by the coast guard, and all the crew were made
prisoners, and put into the lock up. While the coast guard were busy enjoying
their prize, all the prisoners escaped except one, who was found in Hazlegrip, and whom the King’s officers sadly cut up. Lord
Dundas, of Marske Hall, threatened to bring them to justice if the man died.
The last luggar that appeared on the coast was successful in
delivering her cargo. Two of the crew, fierce lion-looking fellows, landed, and
they succeeded in capturing two of the coast guard, whom they marched to the
other wide of Cat Neb, where they stood guard over them till the vessel got
delivered. While these jolly smugglers had the two men in custody, they sent to
the lugger for a keg of real Geneva, and at the point of the sword they
compelled the poor fellows to drink of that which was not the King’s portion.
After releasing their prisoners, and then telling them to go home, the
smugglers returned to their vessel, setting sail, they left the beach with
light hearts and a fair breeze.
Since the
merry days alluded to the glory of Old Saltburn has departed – its smuggling
days have passed away – its gin vaults have disappeared – and the gay roysterers who were wont to make Cat Neb and the adjacent
rocks resound with laughter, now rest in peace beneath the green hillocks in
the retired grave yards of Brotton and Skelton.
Of late
years many buildings of Old Saltburn have fallen beneath the ruthless hand of
Time, and all that remain now are two or three humble looking cottages, with a
respectable inn, possessing good accommodation, the fair hostess being a grand daughter of the well known
and worthy huntsman, Mr John Andrews, sen,, one of the most ardent admirers of the sports of
the field in that fox hunting locality. In old Mrs Johnson’s days this inn was
noted for furnishing visitors with what were termed “fat rascals” and tea, a
delicious kind of cake stuffed with currants, and which the present obliging
hostess, Mrs Temple, who is an adept ion the culinary art, can make so as to satisfy the most fastidious palate.
Another
granddaughter of John Andrew,
Elizabeth Taylor, had married John Farndale’s
nephew, my great x2 grandfather, Martin Farndale
in 1842, two decades before John wrote about the fair hostess of Old Saltburn.
Battles
between the customs men and the smugglers were frequent, fierce and violent and
severe injuries were often sustained during these altercations. Although legend
and folklore portray the smugglers as lovable rogues, in
reality these were violent men prepared to assault the excise men.
When the
Napoleonic Wars came to an end, the Saltburn smugglers came under increasing
pressure from customs officers and the activity of the smugglers ended by the
start of the Victorian period.
or
Go Straight to the
Smugglers of Old Saltburn
The webpage
on Saltburn by the Sea
includes a chronology and source material.