When you stand on the beach in this part of east Sussex, facing the sea, it’s hard to imagine that you’re only an hour’s drive from central London. In front of you are turquoise waters – more Caribbean than English channel – and somewhere across the pond, you can see, or at least sense, France. However, the real miracle and beauty of this place lays to your left, directly west. A series of chalk cliffs rise out of the sea, like a giant wall, so pure and white you have to wear sunglasses when approaching.

Welcome to Seven Sisters: a magnificent stretch of coastline between Seaford and Eastbourne, named after seven hilltops in southern England. But don’t be fooled by the charming, picturesque setting. Back in the 18th century, Seven Sisters and the surrounding area was home to the most notorious smuggler gangs of the time.

Paul Burns has long, strong ties to both the area and the smugglers of the past. Like his people before him, he lives off the sea, but by arranging boat excursions and on-land adventures – not by robbing and smuggling. The same could not be said of his ancestors, which include the notorious John ‘Smoker’ Mills, born in 1730 in the Sussex village of Rottingdean and known along the coast in the late 18th and early 19th centuries for his cunning, his bravery, and his unwavering commitment to the smuggling trade. “John was mainly a smuggler of tea, which at the time, was being traded by China, with India, for opium,” explains Paul. “It was also a massive commodity that was as valuable as gold, and therefore also highly taxed,” he continues. “My ancestors smuggled huge quantities of tea into England, to be sold on the black market.”

The other commodity frequently smuggled into the country by Mills and other gangs were gin. “Mills was not only a smuggler, but also a successful businessman and entrepreneur,” says Paul. “He owned several ships and employed a large network of smugglers and accomplices to help him move contraband goods along the coast and inland.”

The smugglers were fearless – and no wonder, as smuggling was regarded by many as a victimless crime and a common part of life in coastal towns. Many provincial shopkeepers, apothecaries, innkeepers, grocers, and tradesmen even included contraband goods in their stock, and smuggled goods were sold at stalls at country fairs. After all, people objected to taxation on imported tea and spirits, so happily bought ‘duty-free goods’. They seldom regarded ‘runners’ as criminals – so long as violence was not used.

Sometimes, however, disputes over smuggled goods ended in violence and even cold-blooded murder, as was the case for John ‘Smoker’ Mills. “When he came to collect some smuggled tea, he noticed two bags were missing,” tells Paul. “A young farm worker was blamed and bore the wrath of Mills’ fury, who tortured the poor lad to death. Mills was later arrested, found guilty, and hung in chains at the village square as a symbol to others not to smuggle.”

Today, life around Seven Sisters is much more peaceful. “People here really embrace the area and the outdoors, whether it’s mountain biking, fishing, or eating off the land,” agrees Paul. “London is an hour away, but it feels like another world – and it is.”