Our Buccaneer from his earliest times had always kept his Sabbaths in a manner peculiar to himself. He put on his best clothes and a long hat, shut up all his shops but kept open his pot and public houses, and allowed no other recreations than going to church and drinking. Six days had his people to enjoy themselves and his tradesmen to adulterate their different articles of merchandise, the seventh day he decreed should be given up to worship and to pious meditations. All his museums were shut up and all his picture galleries were closed, and his chief city would have been like a city of the dead, if it had not been for the howling mobs that occupied his parks, and other public places, and either shouted sedition or spouted religion. Entire freedom of speech he considered absolutely necessary to the entire freedom of the subject. Many of his people who were not thus engaged passed their time in an inoffensive manner in their favourite pot-house and boosed their holiday away. This from a pecuniary point of view was very much more profitable to the Buccaneer than the opening of any of his museums or libraries; for from drink he derived a goodly income. It is sad, but it must be owned that this rich man had his poor, and where there is poverty there is discontent. The skirts of his garments did trail in the mud. The most distressing thing about this Poverty is that she will bring forth and increase, in an altogether unnecessary manner, thereby providing food for the jail, the hangman, and in the end, the devil.
Some sinned in this respect who ought by example to have taught a better lesson. It was no uncommon thing in the Buccaneer's island for one of his priests to ascend the pulpit, and preach from there the efficacy, and even necessity, of practising self denial. He would then descend from his throne and point a moral to adorn his tale, by marrying and bringing into the world a number of children that he had no visible means of supporting; your priest's quiver is generally full, and he seems at times to have a beautiful faith in God's mercy. Thinking, perhaps, that as He fed the Israelites in the days of old, so would He feed him and his numerous progeny now, with manna fresh from heaven.
It was said that our Buccaneer frequently forgot to look at home, and raising his eyes over the heads of his own poor, fixed his sympathetic gaze upon other people's. Perhaps he did experience a certain amount of gratification at seeing his name at the head of subscription lists, when any of his neighbours suffered from either fire, famine, or pestilence; and to clothe the naked savage of the sunny south, where clothing, except the smallest amount for decency's sake, is absolutely unnecessary, seemed to be to him a more meritorous action than the mending of the rags of his own poverty stricken people.
Then as if he had not enough poor of his own, all his neighbours paid a flattering tribute to his good nature and generosity, by emptying their human sweepings into his dust bin; until in time his island became—and he prided himself upon the fact—an asylum for all the cut-throats, thieves, blackguards, assassins and idiots of the whole world. Madam Liberty had a good deal to say to this. But our Buccaneer, or fighting trader as he had become, was generous even to his own poor in a spasmodic kind of way, and when in his church he heard the oft told story of Dives and Lazarus, it made him sympathetic and opened the bowels of his compassion, and could he have laid hands upon that rascal Dives he would have been made to suffer. This Dives does not appear, however, to have been a monster of iniquity. The only sin he apparently committed, was to fare sumptuously every day, and clothe himself in fine linen. Who amongst us will not do the same if he has but the chance? Do modern Christians live the life of anchorites? Does Dives never sit at the priest's table? Did the Buccaneer's priesthood, from the head down, eschew fine linen, and even at times gorgeous raiments? Do they turn their faces against the luxury of the table on which delicacies temptingly repose. Suppose the Buccaneer on his way home from his devotions had found Lazarus on his door-step, would he have taken him in? not a bit of it. He would have sent him quickly about his business, and if he did not hurry himself the officer of the law would have been called in and Lazarus would have been marched away as a rogue and vagabond. Would the Buccaneer's high priest or any other of his ecclesiastics have taken Lazarus in and washed his sores; tended to him, and fed him? Yes, yes, but times have changed and the story of Lazarus does very well as an example to hold up before the people for pious admiration, but Lazarus' case does not apply to our present high state of civilization, with all its complex social machinery for the benefit of the poor. The proper place for Lazarus now would be the sick ward of a poor house.
Having thus briefly sketched the early history of our Buccaneer or fighting trader; his conversion, the manufacturing of his religion, and the method he had of persuading the heathen to become Christians, it is necessary to relate how he conducted his business. His old sea-faring instincts stuck to him, and he moored on the river that flowed past his principal city, a ship which he called the Ship of State, and by her side he moored another, which he called his Church Ship, and these two rode side by side and stemmed the current of time.
It could not be said that either of these ships were rapid sailers. Indeed, both of them were somewhat bluff in the bows, but they were excellent sea boats, and the old Ship of State had weathered many a storm, and had experienced in her day much foul weather. Her figure-head was a crown. Her crew all told numbered some six hundred and seventy hands, and was divided into two watches, Starboard and Port, each having its captain, lieutenants, petty officers, able and very ordinary seamen, cooks, bottle-washers, swabbers, and adventurers. Of the latter there were a goodly few in each watch, and they had but one star to steer by; but that one was of the very first magnitude. These adventurers were a very busy body of men, and by keeping up a great noise, and pushing themselves to the front, they tried very hard to feather their nests, or drop into some well-paid but sinecure office. They were frequently successful.
In the after part of the Ship of State the Buccaneer had placed his second or Upper Chamber, into which he sent all those of his sons who had done well. Here they enjoyed in peace and extreme quiet their well-earned repose. When thus shelved they were given titles, and were frequently endowed out of the public purse. In early times some of the members of the Upper Chamber had endowed themselves, but there were very few of the old stock left. The principle that our Buccaneer had of promoting his sons to the Upper Chamber was peculiar. It was not based upon personal merit, nor at all times upon services rendered to the State. Success in trade, or fidelity to a party, was generally considered to be, by him, of the very first consideration.
The power that this Upper Chamber once had was extremely great, but now all this had changed, and the old ship was worked entirely, or nearly so, by whichever watch happened to be on duty. Besides, as will be shown, the Upper Chamber had the misfortune to fall under the displeasure of one of the ship's crew.
The Buccaneer dearly loved a lord, no matter whether he was spiritual or temporal, and the women, with few exceptions, adored them without distinction. There is perhaps too much obloquy bestowed upon the toady and tuft hunter. Why should they be so despised? To love and revere the great is surely a commendable action. Are they not the salt of the earth? Sometimes, indeed, the salt has a little lost its flavour, but what then? Much that is good must still remain, to which homage is due. It is the birthright of those who, by their superior intelligence, wisdom, and virtue, have placed themselves high up on pedestals, for common humanity to bow down and worship them.
Who does not love a lord? This esteem for the great is universal. Even the democratic cheap-Jack Jonathan dearly loved a lord; but as he had none of his own he had to make the most he could out of other people's, and he did. It was thought by many, that such a clever fellow as this Jonathan would not be long without lords of his own; but that he would manufacture a few out of the cheap shoddy that he always had on hand.
The Upper Chamber ought to have been extremely wise, and their councils even inspired, for their deliberations were sanctified and leavened by the presence amongst them of a certain number of Lords Spiritual. This gave a sort of Divine authority to the great affairs of State. The priest's kingdom is not of this world; it is therefore all the more wonderful how in every age, and in every clime, he becomes clothed, hemmed in, and perhaps hampered by temporal power, which no doubt he wears as a garment of sackcloth and ashes.
The Church Hulk, which was moored on that side of the Ship of State away from the shore, was commanded by the Buccaneer's High Priest, one celebrated for his piety and learning. His crew was numerous and very able, though at times a mutinous spirit showed itself on board when the authority of the High Priest was openly defied; but then it must be remembered that the church was a church militant, and the priests true chips of the fighting old Buccaneer block. The power of the Buccaneer's priesthood grew, and waxed in strength, and gained such an influence over him that he was not allowed to do anything scarcely without their sanction, and before he set out on any of his predatory expeditions he always asked the blessing and the prayers of the church, and was very seldom if ever refused. This practice is followed even now amongst brigands, in certain parts. These picturesque cut-throats say their prayers before their favourite shrine, and then sally out, slit a gullet and steal a purse with a clear conscience, and take some of the spoil back—if they be pious brigands—to their favourite shrine.
In time the Buccaneer's State Church became so extremely rich that envious eyes were cast in her direction. Those on board of the old Church Hulk denied her wealth, and they should have known. Some of her crew were poor enough, heaven knows, and the Great Hat was constantly sent round. The priest, he is by nature a beggar. It is perhaps one of the few relics we have of that time, when a pure religion was planted by a small band of mendicants, who had neither shoes upon their feet, nor money in their scrips.
How beautiful is poverty at a distance. Songs have been sung in its praise, but no one likes it. It pinches so, and in the Buccaneer's island it was as the mark of Cain. There is something to be said on its side though, for is it not written? "Happy are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Twice happy are they, for not only is theirs the kingdom of heaven, but they are free from the social parasite who never leaves the rich man alone. One attacks him and begs, because he has a large family born to genteel poverty. Another has a church to be roofed or renovated, or some distressing object of charity which he would willingly hang round the neck of the rich man instead of his own, until the rich man being tormented by a thousand and one importunate beggars of high and low degree, feels inclined to exclaim, "Oh! unhappy indeed am I, for not only is it harder for me to enter the kingdom of heaven, than it is for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, but also on earth I am not unfrequently set upon, and despitefully used by the common and vulgar thief, while the hand of the whole world is against me."
On the mainmast of the Ship of State, high up above the domes and minarets of the Buccaneer's chief city, he had placed his crow's nest or look-out tub, where the look-out man was stationed. This man had, as a matter of course, the usual number of eyes; but one was an official eye, the vision of which was peculiar; for it could see into far distant lands if so inclined; but if not, there could be no eye more blind, not being able to discover what was going on under the nose placed by nature to its immediate front.
Then the Buccaneer had wonderful inventions, by which he could communicate with all his foreign relations and receive in turn what information it was their pleasure to give.
The way the Buccaneer filled up appointments on board of his Ship of State was peculiar to himself. Adaptability, or knowledge of the particular department, was of little or no consideration in his eyes. If the hole to be filled was a round one, he took a square man and jammed him into it, and left him to fit in as best he could. This might appear difficult, and even detrimental to outsiders, but to those accustomed to the peculiar system, things soon settled down and worked pretty well.
He had a distinct objection to anything new. Change had to be brought about slowly and by degrees. If there was any haste in the matter, he started up at once, took fright and cried out "revolution!" and then any necessary reform was thrust back and considerably delayed. He loved patchwork. His Ship of State was patched. His Church Hulk was patched, though of course this was not admitted by the generality of her crew, who declared that the order they sailed by had come down without interruption from the fountain-head; but there were differences of opinion as to this even on board the Church Ship, and sometimes even heated discussions took place on other matters when charity, and brotherly love, were either sent below, or kicked over the ship's side for the time being.
The Buccaneer loved to mend and mend, not from any love of economy, for his public expenditure far exceeded that of any of his neighbours, and he gloried in the fact. If some article of his own manufacture wanted repairing he would not take any of his own material, but he would borrow or buy from his neighbours, and clap on over his own product something peculiar to other people. It was nothing to him whether the thing suited or not, he still held on the even tenor of his way with a doggedness that was in him almost a virtue, because it overcame so many difficulties. In course of time he became famed as the very best tinker that the world had ever produced; and this trade he guarded with a jealous care and kept it entirely to himself.
Then the way he had of relieving his watches was peculiar. He had no regular shifts, but when one of the watches displeased him he just kicked them over the ship's side and sent the whole crew about their business, and a fresh lot had to be selected by the people on shore. It was also another peculiarity of his that whenever the most learned, and wisest of his sons, could not solve some difficult question of State, he appealed at once to the most ignorant, and generally abided by their decision. On such occasions his old coxswain took the helm and generally brought him successfully out of his difficulties.
During the time the crew were on shore soliciting the suffrages of the people they were ready to promise almost anything, if they were only sent on board in charge, but memories were often proved to be very short. The crew often abused each other soundly, making use at times even of very bad language. This was in a measure to be attributed to those who managed to creep on board amongst the crew, who had not all the characteristics of gentlemen; and also to the establishment amongst the Buccaneer's people of a new university called Billingsgate, the language and manners taught at his two ancient seats of learning not being strong enough for the necessities of the age. There were always Ojabberaways on board, and some of these had neither the refinement of manner, nor the delicacy of feelings peculiar to the thorough bred gentleman.
At one time the old Ship of State was the scene of polished debate and pointed epigram, while the satire was delicate and keen; but now things had materially changed and the language too often descended to gross personal abuse.
The means the Buccaneer had of gaining his information, namely, through the medium of his daily press, was confusing in the extreme; for all his papers took sides and showed the fighting instincts of the head of the family. Columns were written upon the same subject which was so decked out in party colours as to baffle all efforts at recognition. Each paper acted the part of an advocate, and by fixing upon the weak parts of an adversary tried to conceal its own shortcomings. Under these circumstances it was very difficult, if indeed it were possible, to find out the true merits of a case.
Every day a battle raged, and frequently an opponent was allowed neither learning nor knowledge, while occasionally he was denied common honesty and even decency. The gentlemen of the Buccaneer's press were a mighty power. Fall under their displeasure, and it would be wise to make peace with your enemy quickly, or you would have a whole phalanx of quills charged to the very tips with ink, levelled at you. Kings even were censured and nations chided in the most patronising manner; being occasionally set at each other's throats, causes for quarrel being found when none really existed. And often where a sore existed between two people, it was not allowed quietly to heal and sink into the regions of forgetfulness, but was kept open until perchance it ended in an open rupture. Then having done this, the press frequently sat in judgment upon the belligerents and censured them for their blood-guiltiness; and by persisting in being present at the row, and chronicling the actions of each combatant, the gentlemen of the press frequently did considerable damage to both.
As information could not possibly be legitimately acquired to keep so many papers going it had to be manufactured. Then when a false rumour was started, there was soon a hue and cry after it, and it was either run to earth, or caught and worried to death in the open. Although the dailies gave themselves great airs and many graces, posing often enough even as prophets, they were a mighty power for good. They often redressed wrongs; brought abuses to light, and kept a rod in pickle for the back of the evil doer. The press was not, however, without its inconveniences, and even evils. Taking a page out of Jonathan's book, the Buccaneer had allowed the system of interviewing celebrities to creep in. Distinguished persons were considered to be fair game, and they were badgered, and bored to disclose their inmost secrets. What they had had for breakfast, how they conducted themselves in private life, whether they ate, drank, slept and dressed as other people, or whether they had any peculiar way of their own, was considered to be of the utmost interest to the people. The method by which we conduct our everyday life is somewhat confined. We can only sit in one way, which we may perhaps slightly vary; but the centre of gravity must be kept within certain small limits. As a rule, there is but one mode of getting into bed, namely, on either one side or the other, though we have known cases in which the individual preferred to crawl in at the foot.
Amongst other inconveniences must be named the newsvendor, who every day, and at all hours up to late at night, rushed through the street and cried up his wares in tones perfectly unintelligible, and which ranged from the shrill pipe of the tender-aged gutter-grub, to the deep gin-and-water voice of the full-grown and matured drunkard.
High above the heads of the rest of the dailies stood the Great Thunderer, as it was called. Every day it belched out dense heavy columns from its paper throat, and it ploughed in amongst the smaller fry and did occasionally great damage, this big gun worked upon a pivot, and by the direction of its smoke you could tell which way the wind of public opinion was likely to blow.
Once a week the weeklies sat in judgment upon the dailies. The monthlies pitched into both of these, and four times a year the giant quarterlies strode in amongst the combatants, and dealt destruction all round; overcoming all obstacles by the sheer weight of their columns. It was said that one of these big bullies killed a man once, but this is one of those assertions that requires confirmation. What one paper affirmed, another denied, and that which to begin with was tolerably clear, soon became overclouded with prejudice and party feeling.
As is frequently the case in histories strides have to be taken, and bridges have to be made over the river of time, so that we may walk over in ease and comfort from one age to another.
At the time of which we now wish to speak, the Starboard watch was in charge of the old Ship of State. The captain of this watch was one William Dogvane, a celebrated sailor, and as shifty a salt—so it was said—as ever trod a plank. His first lieutenant was one Harty, as fine a sailor as ever chewed a quid, or drank a tot of grog. A good hand all round and a thorough gentleman. Then there were the other officers and petty officers, of whom it is not necessary to make particular mention. Strange as it may appear, some of the foremost hands will play a conspicuous part in this history. To begin with, there was Pepper, the cook of the Starboard watch, a great admirer, and supporter, of Captain Dogvane's. Then there was Billy Cheeks, the burly butcher, Joseph Chips the carpenter, and Charlie Chisel his mate, all of the same watch. Pepper was a merry clever little fellow, full of quips, jeers, and jokes, but like most cooks he was a bit uncertain in his temper. Put him out, and stand clear, or you would have a bucket of water over you, either hot or cold, dirty or clean, just whichever happened to be nearest, before you knew where you were, and from his language, a stranger might infer that he had taken high honours at the university of Billingsgate. He was a great admirer of the Ojabberaways.
The cook had a keen eye for the failings of others, but he was a merry fellow with all, and excellent company, and though no one really believed in him, all were ready enough to laugh, either with him, or at him. It is true that such people do not, as a rule, figure in history, but such things have been known. A dancer was once made prefect of Rome. Besides your cook is no ordinary individual, for indirectly he rules the universe. He is the foundation of peace and happiness, and the cause often of strife, sorrow, and great suffering. A bloody war even may be indirectly the consequence of the indiscretion, carelessness, or want of skill on the part of some cook who has to prepare the food for some kingly stomach. A little too much of one thing, or a little skimpiness in another, brings on a fit of indigestion, accompanied by mental irritation, and general loss of temper. Ministers are abused, and have to bow their heads before the fury of the royal anger. The bearing of some rival potentate assumes an altogether offensive aspect. Heads are cut off; the prison opens its gates, and many poor subjects are thrust in to contemplate in silence the fickleness of fortune, or their own sins. Wars are declared. Battalions are ranged against battalions, and human blood flows like water, and all this commotion springs, may be, from the kitchen, where the cook sits calmly; bakes, stews, and fries as if nothing had happened.
Most assuredly the cook holds a most responsible position in the world, and it is not too much to say that the safety, honour, welfare, and integrity, yes, and even the happiness and intelligence of a people, depend in a great measure upon the head of the kitchen. The cook should, therefore, take his place amongst the high ministers of every state, for it is in his power to do far more good, and to give far greater pleasure to the many, than your prating philanthropist, who with meddling and muddling manners, large heart, but, generally speaking, small head, tries his best to make paupers of a people, and do harm generally. Your cook is the prime minister to the greatest potentate in the whole world, namely, king stomach, and therefore your cook, if he be a wise, skilful, and virtuous cook, should hold a high place in every community. My lord bishop do you cavil at my statement about his majesty, king stomach? Does he not dwell in the monastery? Does he not sit even at the priest's table, and say to the company, eat, drink, and be merry? Does the priest more than the layman turn his back upon the succulent oyster, the truffled turkey, the barded quail, the plover's egg, which may have cost a shilling, though the honest tradesman only perhaps gave a penny for the rook's egg, which he substitutes for it? Is the voice of our mighty potentate never heard in the bishop's palace? The priest is but a man. True, but too often he looks upon himself as the Lord's anointed who is to be approached with respect, and listened to with reverence, when from his throne, the pulpit, he preaches a self denial to others, that he does not find it convenient to practice himself.
As the Port watch were not on deck at the time of which we are speaking, it is not necessary to say much about the men that composed it, further than to mention that Bob Mainstay was the captain, and a most experienced seaman, quite equal, many thought, to old Bill Dogvane, and very much more certain, though he had not Bill's command of language. Indeed, few had, for Bill could spin a yarn many fathoms long. The first lieutenant of the Port watch was Ben Backstay, a safe steady going seaman, universally respected, and both he and his captain had had no finishing touches put on by the university of Billingsgate, and in consequence they were courteous gentlemen. The captain was perhaps a little imperious and keen of speech. Then, of course, there were all the other officers and able seamen, and there was a merry, clever little fellow, who though only a middy, must not be lost sight of: for he was destined to rise step by step, and even jumps to a high position in the old Ship of State. And he will play no mean part in our present history. Random Jack as he was called, delighted annoying old Dogvane, in fact, he buzzed about the whole of the Starboard watch like a mosquito, and was the merriest, and most cheery little devil that ever put on a sailor's jacket. People at first laughed and jeered at the middy, but he cared not. Only those laugh in the end who win, and he was contented to bide his time, and through fair weather and foul, in ups and downs, he never lost confidence in himself, and herein lies the mainspring of greatness and very much of the world's success.
It has been shown that the old fighting instinct of the Buccaneer was present amongst all his children, and that it was not absent even on board of the Church Hulk. No wonder then that it showed itself to a marked degree amongst his ship's crew, which, however, had not as yet advanced so far as to run an opponent through with three feet of cold steel or plug him with an ounce of lead, like some of his neighbours; nor was his ship's deck strewn about with spittoons, like, it was said, Jonathan's at one time was. In a matter of expectoration Jonathan was great. A spittoon, if properly aimed at the head of an antagonist, political or otherwise, might bring a debate to a speedy, and perhaps a satisfactory conclusion.
Though Captain William Dogvane swore he was essentially a man of peace, his life proved him to be a man of war, and he displayed a marvellous aptitude for getting into rows and then swearing that they were none of his making. Then if he found that he was getting the worst of a fight he would at once give in; own himself in the wrong, and apologize all round, and sometimes tread on peoples' toes in doing so, and consequently getting more abuse than thanks for his disinterestedness. Dogvane said it was a noble and magnanimous thing to own oneself in the wrong, and so save bloodshed; but his enemies said it was generally due solely to cowardice, and they had some reason for saying this, as far as Dogvane was concerned, for he never owned himself wrong until he had been two or three times beaten in the open, and then the enormity of the action—not the beating—became apparent to him. This shifty old salt would at once ware ship, and put all the blame for everything upon the other watch, the members of which, if they only did a half of what old Dogvane accredited them with, deserved to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. This skilled old sailor could sail on any tack and before any wind. In his lifetime he had been many things and had served in both watches; but there was nothing out of the way in this, as it was no unusual thing for a man to commence in the Starboard watch and finish up in the Port, and the reverse. Then old Dogvane could do almost anything. There was nothing too great for him to tackle. He could talk for hours upon the Mosaic Cosmogony. Science would try to knock him over with facts; but Dogvane would, to his own entire satisfaction, prove that science was altogether wrong. He would discuss religion, philosophy, ethics, in fact, anything, with any past master in the craft, and he had the quality, said to be peculiar to the race from which he sprang, of never knowing when he was beaten.
The Ojabberaways who served on board the old Ship of State were for the most part in the Starboard watch, and if by any chance they changed over to the other side to serve their purpose, the alliance was never of long duration nor was it altogether of an honourable kind.
A time came when things were said to be as they ought not to be; discontent became very prevalent. It is always thus; but the people, it was said—and with some show of reason—had quarrelled with their prosperity. Labour had combined against capital, and the workers refused to work except upon their own terms. They demanded shorter hours and more pay, Nor would they, if they could help it, allow others to labour. The Buccaneer's system of education had perhaps something to do with this state of things, for it taught his children almost everything, except how to gain a living, gave many of them exalted opinions, crammed their heads, but left their stomachs empty, until in time the serving class bid fair to be educated out of his island. All wanted to be masters and mistresses, and the kitchen was looked down upon. Things came to such a pass that it was far easier to obtain a governess who could teach almost anything, for thirty pounds a year, than a cook for the same amount, whose knowledge of her trade barely soared as high as boiling a potato, or grilling properly a mutton chop, and who even with this small amount of professional skill was insolent if found fault with.
Then the Buccaneer's tradesmen, being true chips of the ancient block, were frequently extortionists, if not actual robbers. They were certainly well imbued with his first principle of trade, namely, the turning of their five talents into ten, and some at least were not above selling short weight and adulterating their merchandise; but these of course were the dishonest ones, the black sheep that are said to exist in every flock. Then before things reached the consumer they had to be dealt with by the middle men, a species of vampire who sucked a good deal of the profit out of the article; so the consumer was driven into the hands of the foreign cheap-Jack, who soon began to sell more than ever. The Buccaneer's old coxswain, who, it must be owned, was a bit of a preacher, and like all such a little prosy, spoke up as was his wont: "Mates," he said, addressing a lot of grumblers, who had assembled together to air their grievances, "don't you see you've got your ship's head lying in the wrong direction? You are cutting your throats, my hearties, like a swimming pig, for while some of you are quarrelling with your masters, and others of you are going in for keeping up the prices, these furrin cheap-Jacks are doing a thriving trade. Shipload after shipload of their merchandise is coming in. They are ousting you, my lads, out of your own markets, while you stand by, pipe in mouth and hands in pockets, demanding your shorter hours and higher wages." "What would you have us do, mate?" cried a burly fellow from the crowd, as he held his pipe in one hand and a quart pot in the other. "Are we to work our souls and bodies out, day after day, and year after year, while our masters are building up a pile, and palaces to put it in? We ain't agoing to work like some of our neighbours for a mere nothing; neither are we agoing to live on black bread and sour crout; so unless our masters are going to cave in and come down with the needful, we are going to hold out. As for the cheap-Jack fellows, let our master make 'em pay toll. Let's have everything fair and above board. Put that in your pipe, old man, and smoke it." "Lads!" cried old Jack, "you are killing your goose that lays the golden eggs; or, you are frightening her over the water, which amounts to the same thing." "Let her go, mate. If she stays here and stops laying eggs, we'll wring her neck, and divide her carcass amongst us. We shall have a good feed then anyhow, and be equal all round." So there were strikes, and a great cry out against capital, and trade began to work down towards the sea-shore, and unfolding her wings, prepared to take flight to other and more congenial climes.
Whenever the old coxswain got his master's ear upon the subject, his favourite, Liberty, was sure to be on the other side, telling him to let things alone. This aggravated old Jack, who one day exclaimed; "Pray, madam! how far are you going to take our master along this road of freedom?" "Good, honest Jack, that is for you to say," cried madam, with a smile and a curtsey. "Aye, aye, that is all well enough, my fine lady. But there is not a place you don't go to with those doctrines of yours. You commenced upstairs in the parlour, and now you have gone down into the kitchen, and heaven only knows where you intend to stop. What is the use of my saying anything? Where you lead my master follows; no matter whether the road you are on goes to the devil or not. It is no use my holding on to his coat tails, when you are coaxing him, cajoling him, and pulling him forward by both his hands." So saying the old coxswain went his way, muttering something about women in general, that was not altogether complimentary to the fair sex. But the honest coxswain, when ruffled, said, like many other people, very much more than what he meant.
In the general running down of things the Buccaneer's women did not escape. At one time they had been famed both for their virtues, and their beauty. Of the latter it was said there was a falling off. Indeed they were so pulled to pieces all round, by the sharp talons of ill nature, that they were not left too many virtues to plume themselves with.
Beauty it is well known is only skin deep, and in very many cases it does not penetrate even so far. It can be laid on in the morning and dusted off at night without much trouble, though no doubt many beauties prefer to go to bed with the bloom on. This kind of beauty has its merits. It withstands to a certain extent the ravages of time; art following close in the footsteps of nature with the paint brush filling up the crevices, and washing out the marks of the years that have hurried by. But it was said that a good deal of the bloom on the young cheeks was not a constant quantity, and that the cherry lips were not a fast colour. That eyebrows and eyelashes were pencilled and hair dyed. If this was not a foul libel how much was it to be regretted? Youth requires neither putty nor paint to deck it off. For the old it matters little; the only people deceived are the artists themselves. You may disguise the age somewhat, put back the hand of time a year or so, but you can never make an old face look young; paint it up and putty it as much as you like. In the Buccaneer's island there was indeed to be seen strange contrasts, such as dark eyebrows and fair hair, but then nature does at times play sad tricks, giving to animals more heads than one, and occasionally more than the usual quantity of tails, and even legs.
Suppose the Buccaneer's daughter did call in the aid of art. They all do it, and in doing it, a woman only follows the instincts of her nature, though some are so strong minded as to pay little or no attention to personal adornments. The instinct above alluded to is to be found in the daughter of nature, as well as in her civilized sister, and is the one great link that binds female humanity together. Is there a part of the civilized world yet discovered where the female mind does not turn towards the embellishment of the outward form? No doubt the first act of Eve after the sad catastrophe in the garden of Eden, when she recovered from the temporary fit of despondency, was to seek some smooth sheet of water, on which her fair face and form might be mirrored, and with as little doubt her second act was to procure the most becoming fig leaf, that the whole garden of Eden could produce to deck herself in. In the general effect perhaps she found some slight consolation, though she might regret there were not more Adams than one. While in the West the female head is decorated with hair taken, perhaps, from some one, who having paid the debt due to nature has no further need for it, her sister of ruder climes utilizes the bushy end of a cow's tail. While the one uses cosmetics, pomades, and dainty perfumes, the other uses earth, or clay, or things that by no means, or under any circumstances, can be called dainty. In passing, we may perhaps call the attention to the strange perversion of the order of things that seems to run through the civilized male mind of the West. Hairs pulled from a horse's tail decorate the wise heads of judges, while feathers plucked from the nether end of a cock, float over the heads of Western warriors. Is there any subtle influence of nature at work here? But to return to the ladies.
The female child of nature, instead of hanging round her neck precious stones, wears thin strings of beads, or berries, or even shells, and this in many climates is no inconsiderable part of her attire. Then where she places a bunch of reeds, or dried grass, her civilized sister places tastefully a bunch of ribbons. The same parts, present the same difficulties, as to picturesque decoration. The progress of civilization is also shown in the use of nose, lip, and ear-rings. The two former have vanished from the fair faces of the West, but ear-rings still remain as a link to bind us to the past, and though ankle rings have disappeared except on the legs of French poodles, bangles are still worn.
As to the modesty of the Buccaneer's women. This is a delicate matter and we pass over it with the remark that in this respect they would bear favourable comparison with any of their neighbours, though their language perhaps at times, and even their manners, left somewhat to be desired. The modesty of a woman must not be treated lightly, for it is to her, or should be, as a diadem studded with precious stones, and a garment as lovely to behold as the mantle of our Creator when dipped in Autumn's rich and ever varying colours.
What for the most part attracted the eye of censure was the manner in which the fashionable daughters of the Buccaneer dressed of an evening. Then, in many cases, there was very little clothing on above the waist; but ample amends were made by the length of the skirts, which trailed many yards in the dirt behind.
This display of what are usually called the charms of a woman, could not have been from any base motive; for had such been the case the middle aged and old, would not have indulged in the practice. There may be something very attractive about the well-shaped neck and snow white bosom of a young and pretty girl, when modesty is not altogether outraged, but there can be nothing pleasing about too fleshy middle age, or the skinny old. Besides had the desire been the base one of exciting the worst of man's passions, the skirts of the fashionable dresses would have been considerably shortened. A pretty foot and shapely ankle is every bit as pleasing to the eye of man, as a naked bosom, though here again the beefy heels of maturity, and the fleshless pegs of age must be excepted.
We rather see in the above fashion an innate modesty born in the female breast, and we detect in it a disposition ever present to go back to the far off past. To that time, when the clothing of our first mother was conspicuous by its almost entire absence. It was all the more commendable on the part of the Buccaneer's daughters to endeavour to re-establish this early state of innocence, because his climate was dead against the movement, and it says no little for the hardiness of his women, who could thus lay bare so much of their bodies in a temperature notoriously inclement, without suffering any ill effects.
There was a lively discussion going on now on board the old Ship of State about the state of things in general. As to whether trade really was depressed at home, and as to whether the Buccaneer's relations were all as they should be abroad.
The Port watch, who wanted to get charge of the old ship, swore that things were at sixes and sevens. Their part of the press gang took of course the same view, while the Starboard watch, headed by Dogvane, declared with great zeal and certainty that things were never better.
There was discontent even amongst the Starboard, or Dogvane's watch, some of the hands, namely, the carpenter, the butcher, and the cook, and, of course, the carpenter's mate, thinking that the old ship was out of date, and much too slow for the times. The carpenter was for altering her, and for cutting adrift the old hulk alongside. The cook was for breaking the old ship up, and for building an entirely new one on lines of his own. The new craft, he declared, would be a rapid sailer, very easily managed and cheaply worked. These ideas grew and took root, and were productive of certain fruit, as will be hereafter shown.
When the captain of the Port watch drew the Buccaneer's attention to the general, as he said, unsatisfactory state of things, old Dogvane shut one eye—not his weather one—that was always open. "It does you credit," he said, "it does you credit; but bless you, my master isn't going to be taken in, in that way. It is a trick, sir; just a party trick," he said, turning to the Buccaneer, who with his cox'sn was standing on the quarter-deck, wondering, as was his custom, whom he was to believe.
The Port watch now began to abuse old Dogvane, and many of the long shore hands freely damned him; but quite as many blessed him, and were ready to crown him with laurels; but he was called by the Port watch a double-dealing, sly, foxy, old fellow, who would commit any crime from pitch-and-toss to manslaughter, though not a soul had ever seen him indulging in either of these games.
The carpenter declared that the Buccaneer's people were doing a rattling trade in boots, shoes, and watches, while woollen stuffs were all up. What a carpenter could know about such things it would be difficult to say. Had it been nails, or screws, it would have been quite a different thing; but on board the old ship a want of knowledge never kept a tongue quiet. Indeed, under the system of a square man for a round hole, how could it be otherwise?
There was a lengthy and animated discussion on the matter, which Random Jack, of whom mention has been made, took advantage of to scud up aloft to the look-out tub. The shaking of the rigging woke up the man on duty, who, from a matter of habit, sung out "All's well."
Random Jack declared it was nothing of the sort, and he accused the look-out man of being asleep. Then the middy hailed the deck. "Below there!" he cried, "I see clouds in the East." This was a safe thing to say, for there were always clouds there of some sort. He added, "Dust and smoke show there is a heavy storm there. I see, too, a city in flames, and people are being massacred."
The Buccaneer turned upon old Dogvane, the captain of the watch on duty, and asked him what all this meant. Dogvane was not in the least taken aback, no good sailor ever is, so he said, "I cannot believe, sir, that anything is going on in the East that should not be, because we have no official information on the subject." It was a well known fact, that in the Buccaneer's island, his official information was about the last that was ever received. People often wondered what kind of an animal carried his mail bags. Some said it must be a mule, or perhaps an ass.
Dogvane, to reassure his master, hailed the mast-head, and asked the look-out man how the old ship was heading. This was the usual way of asking for information. The man on duty in the tub immediately placed his official eye to the telescope, while he firmly closed the other, and answered that the distant horizon was quite clear. Then he added, "Some people are so precious sharp that they stand a chance of cutting themselves." This sarcasm was levelled at Random Jack, but he treated it with a contempt that was peculiar to him.
When the little middy reached the deck he had a pretty tale to tell; but the cook said it was a parcel of lies, that the other watch could scarcely be believed on their oath, and this depravity very much distressed him; for Pepper was an upright, and an honest man. Billy Cheeks said that the young Tory Bantam, as he called him, was a deal too fond of crowing, and that if he came within striking distance of his fly flapper, he would take his meals standing for some considerable time. The Ojabberaways on board were highly delighted at the prospect of a row, for nothing they liked better than a free fight, and they were always ready to join in any devilment that would cause the old gentleman annoyance.
Dogvane, seeing how things were going, delivered himself of one of those speeches, for which he was celebrated. Having hitched up his trousers fore and aft, like the good sailor that he was, he said:
"All this stir, sir, is about nothing. As I said before it is just a trick of the other side to shift watches. Clouds in the East? Of course there are. It is the very place we generally look for them. I am creditably informed that all our relations are for the most part friendly, and taking into consideration how interfering and meddlesome relations usually are, this must be considered highly satisfactory. At home the bright sun of prosperity shines over all the land, while the songs of a contented people rise up in a grand chorus to heaven." The cook hearing this winked at the butcher, upon whose placid features there was a smile of approval and self-satisfaction; but the good impression left by the above beautiful language upon the mind of the Buccaneer, was slightly clouded by a parting shot on the part of the captain of the Port watch, who knew as well as Dogvane how to arouse his master's suspicion. It could always be done by drawing attention to what were said to be the ambitious designs of some old rival. Then our Buccaneer from a state of indolent indifference, would often fly to the opposite extreme and suffer something in the nature of a panic, under the influence of which he would for the time being storm and rave. If he could, he would make a scapegoat of some one. Perhaps he would kick his watch on duty over the ship's side, and think to put all things straight by lavishing his money upon every conceivable object. The fury of the storm being over, he would again sink into his usual happy-go-lucky state, and rest quietly until some one stirred him up again. As some rusty old weathercock will not condescend to move for anything less than a gale of wind, so it took a panic to rouse up this wealthy and easy-going old gentleman.
In the East there dwelt at this time a mighty Bandit, Bruin by name. He was an old rival of the Buccaneer. It is said that birds of a feather, either do, or should flock together; but as a matter of fact it is frequently found that they do not; the feather being too often a bone of contention. People would have thought that these two celebrities, following as they did the same profession, with the exception that one pushed his trade more by sea, and the other more by land, would have lived peacefully one with another; more especially as they were separated by a wide tract of land and sea. Many old saws and sayings would justify this belief; but the Bandit and the Buccaneer could not hit it off together. The latter being quite a reformed, God-fearing and respectable man, no doubt looked with horror upon the life that the former was leading. It was strange too; because the Bandit was an eminently pious, and Christian gentleman also; but he had not as yet made his pile, which of course made all the difference; and his people, though many of them were slaves, were beginning to be unruly.
As to whether the Bandit was as cruel and as bad as he was said to be, is open to doubt. It is well known that the devil is not as black as what he is painted. Evil things were said even of the Ojabberaways, and we know that once give a dog a bad name, and you may as well hang him, or tie a string round his neck, and fling him into the nearest pond. Some people no doubt would have gloried in seeing this Eastern Bandit run up on the nearest tree; but then he required catching.
Of the living why not be truthful? There seems to be a prevalent opinion that this should be the case when we discuss the characters of our enemies, and more especially of our friends to whom we can make amends by saying nothing but what is good of them when they are dead. This old sea king whose history we take a delight in relating, had as has been shown a very quick eye for the shortcomings of his friends. Looking over the heads of his own little peccadillos, he fixed his keen gaze upon those of his neighbours, and no one could find out an act of robbery sooner than could this Buccaneering trader; then his virtuous indignation knew no bounds.
It was indeed a belief of his, that most of his neighbours were ambitious and designing, ever ready to feather their own nests at the expense of other peoples. Yet they were all eminently religious, prayed often, and professedly were all followers of the same great Master; but they all slept in armour, and were ready on the slightest provocation to fly at each other's throats. Our pious Buccaneer had learnt to look upon the East as a sort of devil's playground, and the Bandit as the arch fiend himself who he frequently thought was up to no good when the poor gentleman was perhaps actually engaged in his devotions.
The slightest allusion to the Eastern Bandit always alarmed him, so the command was given on board the old Ship of State to pipe all hands, and presently the bo'sn's whistle, followed by those of all his mates, sounded merrily along the decks. Those below hurried up, while those on shore hastened on board, and the scene was soon one of the liveliest. Just as the last man tumbled over the ship's side, there was a great commotion at the Port gangway, and on looking over, a very queer powerfully made fellow was to be seen trying to get on board; but the rest of the ship's company would not have him at any price. Pepper, the cook, said the man was a friend of his, in fact, his mate; but Pepper spoke to deaf ears; for the fellow would not swear, and it is a well known fact that a seaman who will not swear cannot be a good sailor. Several of the hands seized upon the intruder, and suiting an old rhyme to the occasion, they commenced to sing—