By a glance at the map it is obvious to anyone that no vessel going up or down the Channel need be within a dozen or more miles of the Manacles. Yet many still get there; and few are fortunate enough to get away without becoming total wrecks. Not only on account of nearness of time do the _Mohegan_ and the _Paris_ disasters take undoubted precedence in the Manacles' victims, but on one occasion the loss of life was appalling. The _Mohegan_ was a steamship of 7000 tons in charge of Captain Griffiths, the commodore of the Atlantic Transport Company. At half-past two on her second day out she signalled "All well" at Prawle Point. Four and a half hours later, when the light was good and the wind not high, she dashed into the Vase Rock, one of the outer Manacles, and within twenty minutes all except the upper portions of her masts and funnels were beneath the water. How the _City of Paris_ got on the rocks is equally a mystery, for she is computed to have been twenty miles out of her proper course when she struck, and the weather was fine and the night clear.
As Mr. Albert Bluett says: "We have the uncontradicted statements of seamen of all classes, that the bell-buoy, fixed to one of the outer Manacles, is utterly inadequate to warn vessels of their nearness to danger. And when the sounds of that bell came in the landward breeze to where I stood looking across the reef, they seemed, not a message of warning to those who cross the deep, but as the death-knell of the hundreds of men, women, and children who have breathed their last in the sea around the Manacles."
There is no doubt that generations of smugglers and wreckers existed all along this exposed and dangerous coast, and the lawlessness of the Cornish folk in such matters as smuggling, and pilfering from wrecks, earned for them a very unenviable reputation. The deeds of Jack Rattenbury, of Beer, and the daring exploits of Harry Paye, of Poole, fade into insignificance by comparison with the doings of John Carter, who was known and feared all along the wild Cornish seaboard. He was known locally as the "King of Prussia", owing, it is said, to his resemblance to Frederick the Great. Be this as it may, Bessy's Cove, a small bay a few miles to the west of Helston, has, since Carter's day, been known as Prussia Cove, a striking tribute to the power of the smuggler. At this cove Carter widened the harbour, fortified the promontory that overlooks it, and adopted the numerous caves for the storage of illicit cargoes. These splendid and natural storehouses may still be seen, together with the "King of Prussia's" house, and the remains of the battery he erected; for this intrepid smuggler did not hesitate to open fire on any of the king's ships that ventured within range of his guns. Carter flourished in the middle of the eighteenth century, and it is difficult for us to realize to-day that such a state of lawlessness could have existed in the days of our great-grandparents.