argument is pure nonsense. You tell Lieutenant Tabor to forget his orders because they are not consonant with your desires. Well, that, sir, is nonsense and not near good enough. If you hope to have your way, then you must write to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, explain the situation, and get from him some written document that is endorsed by the Commander of the Tower which states that these particular troops are transferred to your command. Until you can present such, you are to trouble neither me, nor the lieutenant, nor any of his men further. Good day to you, sir.”
Mr. Eccles did not respond to that, though it was not for want of trying. He stood rigid and red-faced, stuttering and sputtering, unable to complete or even begin a sentence. Thus did he for a minute, or maybe even two, as Sir John waited most patiently. At last, however, Eccles surrendered to circumstance, turned, and beat a swift retreat down Middle Street. Looking after him, the lieutenant permitted himself a smile. From his men, however, who had listened carefully to all that was said, a few chuckles and snorts were heard.
Sir John listened to Eccles’s footsteps fade, then did he call out to the assemblage: ”Mr. Crawly, will you please come forward?”
And so did the driver of the hackney work his way through the assemblage of men and horses to greet Sir John most respectfully.
“What will you, sir?” he asked. ”Where can I take you?”
“Nowhere for now, though I do have a proper and important journey for you.”
“From here to where?”
“From here to the residence of Sir Simon Grenville. I want you to lead this small troop of mounted Carabineers up there that they may pitch their tents upon his front lawn and water their horses in the brook that runs through it.” He paused to think a moment. ”I did hear a brook up there on our approach to his door, did I not, Jeremy?”
“You did, Sir John,” said I.
“That should do nicely, don’t you think so, lieutenant?” ”Oh, well enough, I’m sure,” responded Lieutenant Tabor.
“Though I must ask you to remain here with me, whilst I explain to you our situation here. You may join your men later. And you, Mr. Crawly-”
“Yes sir?”
”I would have you return here once you have the Carabineers situated in Sir Simon’s great dooryard, for we shall have further need of you, the lieutenant and I. We three have plans to make.”
“Well and good, sir,” said Mr. Crawly. ”I have but one question for you.”
“And what is that?”
“Does Sir Simon know that these army gents will be staying with him as his guests?”
Sir John smiled. ”In all truth, he does not. Still, as the biggest landholder in these parts, he should not be surprised if, from time to time, he has official guests drop in. If he protests vigorously, just tell him that Lord Mansfield sent these troops down to help Sir John Fielding in the discharge of his duties. You may pass that word on to the troops.”
This time I was privy to the plan as it was made. I sat and listened to Sir John outline it. I bent over the map with them as Mr. Crawly chose the best place for a roadblock. I heard Lieutenant Tabor’s comments on the difficulty of following a train of wagons undetected. In short, I saw that as I had suspected, this was very likely the plan that Sir John had worked through with Dick Dickens late into the night before. How Dickens had come by the information upon which it was based I had no idea.
My suspicion that he was co-author and prime mover of the plan was confirmed when, at the end of the afternoon session, Sir John dictated to me a memorandum, giving all details, which was to be delivered into the hands of Dick Dickens only. Thus had I an opportunity to enter Deal Castle, which I had wished to do ever since first I spied it.
It was to my mind no proper castle at all, for it had neither turrets nor towers. It did, however, have a moat with a bridge across it which could be raised to make unwanted entry impossible. The bridge was down, as one might have expected, and I strode across it in a manner more confident than I felt. At the arched entrance I was challenged and halted by a soldier dressed in odds and ends-or one who was more likely a member of some local militia detailed to guard the castle against unauthorized visitors; he was, in any case, a man with a musket, and I thought it unwise to disobey him. I stopped, as ordered, and gave my name to him and told him whom I wished to visit. This information was passed on to another just inside the castle who ran off to deliver it to the proper place and person. I had no choice but to wait. Upon his return, he invited me to follow him and thus did serve as my guide through the narrow corridors and descending stairs which led ultimately to the office of the Customs Service.
“Why not wait for me?” said I to my guide. ”I cannot suppose this will keep me here long.” He was years younger than I, and appeared sickly. I saw no cause for him to tramp the stairs unneedful.
He nodded and took a place by the door which he had pointed out to me. I knocked upon it, and it was opened by Dick Dickens himself. Saying not a word, he beckoned me inside and closed the heavy oaken door after us.
“You know all about this?” he asked as I passed him the letter from Sir John.
“I do now,” said I. ”I was present while the details of the plan were fixed, and I took in dictation the letter you now hold in your hand.”
“And do you think it will work?”
I was somewhat surprised by the question. What should it matter to him what I thought? Perhaps he was as unsure as I.
“I think it may if the information we’ve been given is correct; if the men in the wagons do not greatly outnumber us; and if Mick Crawly does not betray us.” I said nothing of my uncertainty about Dickens himself.
At that he laughed. ”You need not worry about Mick,” said he, ”nor about the quality of the information. I stand firmly behind both.”
He then took but a moment to read quickly over the letter; then did he surprise me again by handing it back to me.
“You do not wish to keep it?”
“No, I have the contents firmly in mind. Better that you have the letter. It would not do to have it found here or on my person.”
And so I took it and buried it deep in my pocket. Then did I bow my goodbye to him. I was out the door and, with the aid of my guide, out the castle in not much more than a minute.
We rocked easily in the interior of the hackney coach as the horses proceeded up the hill at a walk. There were five of us. Apart from Sir John and myself, I counted the three constables who had come down from London-Messrs. Perkins, Patley, and Bailey. Earlier in the evening they had made the rounds in Deal, giving special attention to Alfred Square, hoping to give the impression that there was naught different about this night. Now all had gathered together, mounted into the hackney, and rode in silence up through the highlands to the place Mr. Crawly had judged the best to stop the train of wagons on their way to London.
As Sir John had explained earlier that evening: ”Smuggling goods from France-or anywhere else-can only be successful if you get the smuggled goods up to the market. And the best market is not down here in eastern Kent but in London. Whatever has been landed here must be brought up there for the job to be completed. We may either try to cut off the traffic as it is put ashore, or on the road leading to London. We have information of a large shipment-at least three wagons full-to be brought north. The shipment will be made up of the usual luxury goods-wine and brandy from France, and perfume, as well; tobacco from Turkey; and even fine linen and lace from Flanders. If we can stop the shipment, then we can deal a telling blow to the smuggling trade here-not perhaps the deathblow I would like, but one that will certainly wound.”
And so it was to be a roadblock, one set up at some back-country crossroads of Mick Crawly’s choosing. The idea was to halt them whilst the King’s Carabineers rode up from their rear to cut off a possible retreat. How did we know the owlers’ train of wagons would go up this particular road? And how could we be sure that they would not leave till after midnight? These were essential questions, of course. Yet they were questions I could not answer; nor was I even certain that Sir John could. In short, this seemed to me to be a good enough plan yet one based upon information of questionable worth-a sound structure built upon an uncertain foundation. I had hinted as much to Sir John upon my return from Deal Castle, yet I drew no response from him-no, none at all.
