The Blighted Cliffs (53 page)

The
other element of the book which may need some comment is the hot-air
balloon. Balloons had been around for over twenty years by 1806, and
had successfully been used to cross the Channel as early as 1785
(when, with a claim to inventing first-class air travel, the
aeronauts carried with them copious supplies of port, brandy and
cigars, which unfortunately had to be jettisoned when the balloon
started to lose altitude prematurely). If there is an anachronism, it
is that the balloon Jerrold finally encounters is of a much older
design than would have been prevalent in 1806. I attribute this to
the difficulties Laminak would have faced transporting hydrogen to
Dover.

For
the rest of the book, I have embellished as little as possible on
what we know. Smuggling in the eighteenth century was considered the
'national evil', and its central role in life on the south coast
cannot be overstated. In 1773, there were an estimated fifteen
thousand men involved in smuggling, in Kent alone, and the new taxes
demanded by the wars against Napoleon, the blockade of France and the
secondment of many customs cutters to naval service provided few
disincentives thereafter. The techniques described in the book are
authentic, though far from exhaustive, as smugglers and preventive
men grew ever more ingenious in their methods.

Smuggling
did decline after 1805 as more resources were available to combat it,
but exploded again after 1815 when a general economic crisis
precipitated by peace and demobilization left thousands of men with
no alternative livelihood. It was not brought under control until an
innovative naval officer, Captain William McCulloch, introduced
regular cordons of naval personnel ashore, in a blockade line which
eventually stretched from Sheerness to Chichester and employed some
three thousand men. The complications of the antismuggling business
are well illustrated by one struggle Captain McCulloch faced within
his own ranks: how to compensate officers serving ashore for the loss
of their duty-free allowance.

Anyone
visiting Dover today is unlikely to find much of the Georgian town
left: the onslaughts of Victorian improvers and German bombers have
left little from Jerrold’s day, although most of the street
names remain the same. The Western ocks and marina still follow the
pattern of 1806, but the Eastern ferry terminal and anchorage are far
more modern. The guildhall on the market square has been demolished,
and the gaol where Jerrold spent so much time was partially destroyed
in 1820 when an angry mob of townsfolk came to free two smugglers
imprisoned there. The site is, however, well worth a visit, as it now
houses the excellent Dover Museum. Of the churches featured, St
James's (home of Caleb Drake's memorial) was bombed in the war but
has been kept as a picturesque, ruined monument; its graveyard is now
a leisure-centre car park. St Martin-It-Grand, where Martin and
Isobel were attacked, was a ruin even in 1806, and is now completely
gone, but its stones can still be seen recycled into the wall of the
NatWest bank. Dover castle is well known and worth seeing. There you
can still visit the caves tunnelled deep into the chalk cliffs.

Many
people helped in the writing of this book, far more than I have the
space to thank properly. I'm particularly grateful to Brian Williams
and the staff at the Dover Museum and Library, whose accessible
resources should be an example to small museums everywhere; to
Barbara Tomlinson, Arthur Janes and the staff of the National
Maritime Museum in Greenwich; to Trina, Carl and Aaron at Mystic
Seaport, Connecticut; and to Tim Carter, for supplying charts, books,
an outlet for my frustrations and the odd piece of sailing advice.
Sadly, all their knowledge combined couldn't protect me from myself,
and any mistakes that remain are entirely my own.

Away
from the libraries, Gary Heslop and Scan Elliot allowed me an
enormous amount of latitude when I was supposed to be working for
them. Mike Jecks, the Crime Writers' Association, and the judges of
the Debut Dagger gave me the chance, and the confidence, to develop
the story, and opened many doors. Jane Conway-Gordon showed faith at
an early stage and has been irreplaceable ever since. Selina Walker
and Simon Thorogood vastly improved the book, and taught me a lot
about writing in the process. Helen and George Hayios tirelessly read
everything I produced and gave invaluable criticism. They, my
parents, and friends, colleagues and family old and new were
constantly generous in their support and encouragement.

There
were days when I struggled with the book, and days when it came
easily. What kept me going through them all was my wife Emma. This is
for her.