up the tubs, and getting them to shore and away, wholly with the
land smuggler.

An old pamphlet, entitled, _The Trials of the Smugglers ... at the
Assizes held at East Grinstead, March 13, 14, 15, and 16, 1748-9_, gives
the following information about the duties and pay of the land smugglers
at that day:--"Each Man is allowed Half a Guinea a Time, and his
Expenses for Eating and Drinking, a Horse found him, and the Profits of
a Dollop of Tea, which is about 13 Pounds Weight, being the Half of a
Bag; which Profit, even from the most ordinary of their Teas, comes to
24 or 25 Shillings; and they always make one Journey, sometimes two, in
a Week." But these men would be underlings. There were, I take it, land
smugglers in control of the operations who shared on a more lordly scale
with their brethren in the boat.

[Sidenote: HALF-WAY HOUSES]

On all the routes employed by the land smugglers were certain cottages
and farm-houses where tubs might be hidden. Houses still abound supplied
with unexpected recesses and vast cellars where cargoes were stored on
their way to London. In many cases, in the old days, these houses were
"haunted," to put forth the legend of a ghost being the simplest way not
only of accounting for such nocturnal noises as might be occasioned by
the arrival or departure of smugglers and tubs, but also of keeping
inquisitive folks at bay. Only a little while ago, during alterations to
an old cottage high on the hills near my home in Kent, corroboration was
given to a legend crediting the place with being a smuggler's "half-way
house," by the builders' discovery of a cavern under the garden
communicating with the cellar. For the gaining of such fastnesses the
hollow ways of Sussex were maintained. Parson Darby's smuggling
successor, in Mr. Horace Hutchinson's Sussex romance, _A Friend of
Nelson_, thus described them to the hero of Withyham:--

"The sun strikes hot enough. Would you like to ride in the shade
awhile?"

"Immensely," I replied, "if I saw the shade."

"Keep after me, then," said he; "but the roan will. You need not
trouble!" In a moment, on his great big horse, he was forcing his
way down what had looked to me no more than a rabbit-run through
the roadside bushes. For a while I had noticed the road seemed
flanked by a mass of boskage below it on the right-hand side. Into
this, and downward, the man crammed his horse, squeezing his legs