A smuggling tale

The north-east coast of Scotland was once known for its thriving smuggling trade. From the early 18th century, many goods imported into Scotland were heavily taxed. Scots viewed these levies as unjust and oppressive and fiercely resisted them. As a result, smuggling, particularly of staples such as tea, tobacco and alcohol, was widespread.

Two of Scotland’s most infamous gin smugglers were my 4G-grandfather John Kennedy and his brother Philip, whose notoriety resulted from a violent encounter with government excisemen in 1798.

The Kennedy brothers were farm workers, residing at Ward in the parish of Slains, Aberdeenshire. Slains was a haven for smugglers because of its rocky coast and hidden inlets. Spirits brought ashore were stored in its extensive caves or hidden in huge, deep sand pits on the beaches, before being transferred to another secret location.

Local farmers, fishermen and their families typically worked together in the effort to offload, transport and hide contraband goods. A pre-arranged signal, such as a blanket spread on a roof or peatstack, notified the community of an incoming shipment. The cargo vessel would sit offshore until dark, then its delivery was offloaded into a dinghy and taken ashore, where men, women and children waited to carry it to its hiding place.

On the night of December 18, 1798, a ship aptly named the “Crooked Mary” offloaded a shipment of 16 ankers of Holland gin (an anker being equal to about 30–40 litres), which was then concealed near the small fishing village of Collieston. At dusk the following night began an operation to transfer the gin to its next hiding place, three miles away at the Kennedys’ farm at Ward.

The Crooked Mary, however, had been tracked and seized by a king’s cutter after leaving Collieston on its way to its next port of call. As a result, information about the previous night’s operation had been passed to the excisemen, three of whom hid, armed with swords, along the route they knew the smuggling party would take.

The Kennedys, on learning that the excisemen were aware of the landed cargo, set out, armed with oak cudgels weighted with lead, to warn the procession of gin-laden villagers headed their way.

En route they encountered the excisemen, and a violent confrontation ensued. John, struck by a sword and heavily bleeding from a head wound, fled into the night along with the villagers. Philip continued to struggle with the excisemen, ultimately being felled by the blow of a cutlass that split his head open. He nevertheless managed to drag himself to a nearby farm where he collapsed and died.

The exciseman who inflicted the fatal blow was subsequently tried for murder. Pleading self-defence and that he had acted in the discharge of his duty, he was acquitted. Trial testimony from one of the other excisemen revealed that after the encounter with the Kennedys, they had gone farther up the coast to Ellon to do another seizure and they did not learn that Philip had died until the following day.

Philip Kennedy is buried in the churchyard at Slains. According to local lore, his skull, identifiable by the deep cleft of the exciseman’s blade, has been occasionally dug up during other interments in the graveyard.

John Kennedy fortunately survived his injury, going on to marry in 1801 and father my 3G-grandfather, Alexander Kennedy. John died in Slains on April 12, 1842, and is buried, along with his wife, Isobel Leith, in Slains churchyard next to his brother.

Sources:

• Crooked Mary – Part One
• Crooked Mary – Part Two
• The Brutal Death of Scotland’s Notorious Gin Smuggler
• The Hidden History of Smuggling in Scotland
• Smugglers’ Britain: The Border Areas & East Coast
• The Smuggling Story of the Northern Shores, Frances Wilkins, Wyre Forest Press, 1995

Tagged Aberdeenshire, Collieston, criminal, Crooked Mary, gin, grave, murder, Slains, smuggler, smuggling, tax