"My mate is ashore in tow of a lass,Cock-a-doodle,A right clever fellow turned into an ass,Cock-a-doodle,He's tied by the leg with a petticoat string,Cock-a-doodle,And never again will his cheery voice sing,Cock-a-doodle."
"My mate is ashore in tow of a lass,Cock-a-doodle,A right clever fellow turned into an ass,Cock-a-doodle,He's tied by the leg with a petticoat string,Cock-a-doodle,And never again will his cheery voice sing,Cock-a-doodle."
The look-out man aloft being awakened, no doubt, by the voice of the carpenter, sang out: "All's well." This was official, and Dogvane looked upon it as a good sign. "Your ever watchful man aloft, sir, tells you that all is well; we must perforce believe him, for he is a creditable witness."
"All's well, indeed!" exclaimed the Buccaneer. "What do you mean by telling me that all is well? Are you, Master Dogvane, a knave or a fool; or do you take me to be either the one or the other?"
"God forbid, sir, that I should make so grievous a mistake," replied Dogvane, with humility.
"What did you mean by telling me that my foreign relations were all good, and that my people at home were prosperous and contented?"
"Did I say so much, master? It is on my memory that I did not go so far; I may have said that they ought to be contented. There lies the difference."
"Why, there is not a profession or trade, or even class that is not crying out. My very women are rising in open rebellion. What say you to this?"
"It is passing strange, sir, and only adds one more proof, if it were necessary, of the extreme ingratitude of human nature. There is scarce a thing that we do not take into consideration, and so great is our concern for your welfare that we try to legislate for all your simplest needs, and in time we hope that everything will work with clock-like regularity, and if a man gets drunk even, it shall be by Act of Parliament."
"Pray, sir," asked the Buccaneer, "what business had you below on such an occasion as this?"
"Sir," Dogvane replied, "I was occupied with matters of the gravest importance; something that touches closely upon my master's honour. Master, master," he suddenly cried in an ecstasy of delight, "what think you? I have glorious news; glorious news for you."
"Glorious news! then out with it, man, for I need something to raise my spirits."
"Sir," cried Dogvane, rubbing his hands with glee. "What think you; I have a concession."
"A concession, man! A concession! that is news indeed. Do you hear, Jack, our honest Dogvane has a concession." The old cox'sn kept his silence; but the Buccaneer was highly pleased for it was now more his custom to grant concessions than to receive them. There was scarcely a neighbour, or foreign relation, no matter however small, who had not got something out of the old man in recent years. At one time he used to thrash his enemy first, and then grant him a concession perhaps, afterwards, and this line of action had its advantages, and in the long-run saved very much time, trouble, bloodshed, and money. The news of the concession brought back the blood to the old Buccaneer's jolly round face, which regularly beamed with enthusiasm.
"Ah! Dogvane," he said, "after all you have served me well, and no matter how you may be reviled you have proved yourself a faithful servant. And so you have a concession!" Then an idea seemed suddenly to strike him, for turning an anxious look upon old Dogvane, he exclaimed, "Stay! Is it a good concession; one worthy of a Sea King? It is not from the Calf of Man is it?" Dogvane shook his head. "Nor from either Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, or Sark?" Dogvane again shook his head. "Has the Egyptian gipsy sent an apology and withdrawn her curse?"
"My master is wide of the mark," said Dogvane with a smile of satisfaction.
"Well, if the concession comes from neither of these quarters, Master Dogvane, I know not where to look. Stay though. Have the Ojabberaways sent an apology for all their abusive language and unseemly conduct?"
"Not within striking distance yet, sir. Some time since, my master, you were anxious to show our trusty friend here, Jack Commonsense, some mark of your great favour. The matter is not without its difficulties; but still it may be accomplished. Now, if your trusty cox'sn, who is an excellent sailor, no doubt, though deemed for some unknown reason common, has any royal blood in his veins, we can with the stroke of a pen make either an Admiral of him, or a Field-Marshal, or even a Bishop. Then again, if he were only a rich brewer, or a successful trader of any description, or a supporter through thick and thin of our Starboard Watch, we could at once make him a lord of high degree."
"What has this to do, Master Dogvane, with the concession? Why, in the devil's name, do you torment me? Have concessions been of such frequent occurrence in recent years that I can thus afford to dally with them? Speak out, or I will drag that unruly tongue of yours from its roots."
Dogvane, seeing that further trifling would be dangerous, said, "Do you remember, sir, that little dispute we had with the great Bandit of the East upon a small matter of a boundary?"
"Yes, yes, I remember, go on."
"And no doubt you also remember my extreme regret that we had not with us that energetic young wasp, Random Jack, so that we might have either bumped him on the boundary, or whipped him on the breech."
"What has all this to do with it? Your enemies say that you are little better than a wind-bag, and I verily believe they are not far wrong. Has the Eastern Bandit made a concession? Come, yea or nay."
"No other."
"Honest Dogvane, your hand. This is indeed glorious news. So you have brought the mighty Bruin to his senses, and he has knuckled down to the Lion. But go on, Dogvane, the concession."
"If you remember, sir, we placed the matter in the hands of our faithful friend and ally, King Hokeepokeewonkeefum, his august majesty of the Cannibal Islands."
"I remember, man; but that part of the transaction does not give me the satisfaction that perhaps it ought. The concession."
"Still the same old prejudice against colour? but no matter. As—"
"What the devil is in the man! Are we never coming to the concession? Where is this concession? Out with it, or, by my soul, I will lay my stick across your back."
Dogvane was between two stools; he feared to trifle with his master any longer, and he feared to make known the concession. Though no one could humbug the old Buccaneer like Dogvane, even he could not go too far, and he had now come to the length of his tether.
"Sir," said Dogvane, "we have gained a great diplomatic victory." Directly the Buccaneer heard the nature of the triumph his face fell.
Dogvane came cautiously to the subject again. "With the aid of King Hokee I have settled your dispute without spilling one drop of Christian blood."
"Tell me, man, at once!" cried the Buccaneer, as he raised his stick above his head, "has the Eastern Bandit made honourable amends?"
"He has, sir," replied Dogvane. "He has indeed done all we can in reason expect. The Bandit, though a Christian, is a proud man; and it is not acting generously to humble any man too much."
"Master Dogvane, I too am a Christian, and I have my pride as well as the Eastern Bandit."
"You, sir, are the leader of the Christian world, and as such should set a good example. I did not say, my master, that pride was a Christian virtue, though far too many Christians wear it as their everyday dress. Pride, indeed, is the worst of sins, and through it Satan himself fell. My master is great and noble, and all powerful; he can therefore afford to be magnanimous. Bearing this in mind I made peace when you had been beaten three times in the open. Few other nations, and few other men, would have done this; certainly not the great Bandit of the East. Would your other watch have had the courage to do it?"
Thus did the cunning Dogvane run on, still evading the point of all interest. But his master's patience was now completely exhausted, and he brought his stick across the captain's back.
"Softly, master," cried Dogvane, as he winced under the blow, "my coat needs no dusting. The point is at hand. I have agreed, or arranged, or it may be that I have entered into a sacred covenant with the great Bandit of the East, that for certain considerations, hereafter to be settled and defined, you shall black his boots."
"Black his boots!" cried the Buccaneer in amazement, "and is this your concession, fellow?"
"Stay, stay, sir, not so fast," replied Dogvane. "Make haste is no doubt a very good horse, but hold hard is a better. We have not come to the concession yet. That stick is mighty hard. Stay, sir! I am coming to it. It is this. In consideration for past favours, and to promote a good understanding between you both, the Eastern Bandit graciously condescends to find his own blacking."
"The devil he does," exclaimed the Buccaneer, as his eyes opened wide with astonishment. "What concession is there in that, pray?"
"A very great one, sir, considering the size of the Bandit's boots, it is little less than enormous. You might, sir, had it not been for diplomacy, have been obliged to provide your own blacking. To get the Bandit to concede this cost no end of trouble. One ambassador was quite broken down, and several minor diplomatic officials have been rendered quite useless for the remainder of their lives. Their minds having quite given way, and they are left little better than babbling idiots, and every boot they see they persist in blacking."
The bold Buccaneer that once was, the great Sea King, the mighty trader, was struck for a few moments completely dumb. Indeed Dogvane's concession seemed to have benumbed his brain. His old coxswain, who had kept a respectful silence during this long-winded palaver, now spoke, having first of all cleared his decks, as he called it. "Master Dogvane!" he cried, "the man who stoops to black a boot, will in all probability be kicked by it before the job is finished."
"Who asked you to put your spoke into the wheel?" Dogvane said in an under tone, and then added aloud: "I've been thinking, sir, that we might promote our honest friend here to some sinecure, where he will for the rest of his days have little work and plenty of pay. We have many such posts at our command, but strange to say, they are all full at present. The keeper of the Imperial Hat is a duke; the emolument is barely a thousand a year, but the honour is great and is much coveted. Then there is the custodian of our master's night cap, that is held by one who has royal blood in his veins, and he cannot be sent home, or about his business."
Dogvane's list of high offices was brought to an abrupt conclusion by the sudden awakening of the Buccaneer, who seemed to be possessed with a spark of his old fire. His wrath burst upon Dogvane like an angry gust of wind. "Out of my sight," he cried, as he again raised his stick. Now the keeper of the Buccaneer's stick was another high official, who drew a goodly income for doing so. Dogvane, in his mind, determined that this officer should be at once replaced by one who took better care of his business. He thought, and perhaps rightly, that on such an occasion as the present, the stick should either have been mislaid or sent to be polished, or otherwise repaired. "Out of my sight!" cried the Buccaneer, as he brought his stick down heavily upon old Dogvane's back. "Begone thou veritable wind bag. Do you wish to thrust me down on my knees before all the world? It was not by eating humble pie, fellow, that I have grown to what I am. Get thee hence ere I break every bone in thy body; thou weigher of scruples, thou splitter of straws. Where now is all that money I gave thee over this affair with the Bandit?"
"Master! master!" cried Dogvane as he cowered beneath the anger of the old Sea King, and fell down on his knees before him. "Be not hard upon your servant. Have I not served you faithfully these many long years? When I had charge of your till did you not make more money than ever you have since? Did not your pence grow into shillings, and your shillings into pounds? Have not my eyes grown dim, and my hair sparse and grey, in your service? Then bear with me a little while."
The Buccaneer was slightly mollified. "Ah!" he said, "like many another old servant, you trade, Master Dogvane, upon the past, and think that your master will bear any amount of carelessness and bungling now for the sake of what has been done before. If in days gone by you made money for me, you have taken very good care to squander it since. But there must be a limit to the endurance even of the best of masters. Have you not dishonoured me in the eyes of my neighbours? Is your memory so short that you have forgotten their reception of me? Have you forgotten the scorn of some? the indifference of others? Have you forgotten the revilings of the Egyptian gipsy? Have you not estranged my friends from me and made me a must elephant of the herd, to wander out into the wilderness? Through you is not the charge laid against me that I have turned my back upon my enemies, and have you not so lowered me in the estimation of my neighbours, that the smallest dog amongst them barks at me?"
"Master—"
"Stay, fellow! I have not finished with you yet. While you prated about economy and peace you have run me deep into debt; while the wake of the old Ship of State, during the time you have been at the helm, has been constantly smeared with blood."
"Good master, the blood rests not upon my head, but upon that of the other watch. All the trouble that I have got into has been owing to the dreadful inheritance they left me."
"That, Master Dogvane, is too stale a cry to be readily believed. It is an old trick, and not altogether a reputable one, for one servant to try and saddle another with the fruits of his own stupidity, or carelessness. But where is that eleven millions I gave you for a certain purpose?"
"Good master, it is true that I have a little outrun the constable; but I have had to recompense Abdur for the damage done, and I have had to buy his friendship. Then the stupendous preparations I made were costly, and though there may not be very much to show for the money, yet no doubt a bloody war was averted, many lives saved, and in the long run, much money."
"A war averted, Master Dogvane, I have been told, is only a war postponed, and that when once put off it generally comes at a most inconvenient time, and is likely to prove most costly. To strike promptly and hard, experience has proved to be the better plan, and the cheapest both in men and money. Begone from my sight, fellow, for I begin to know thee. I may be slow to anger, but when once roused, those who displease me had better beware of me."
Thus it was that old Dogvane, the captain of the Starboard Watch, fell under his master's displeasure. As is always the case directly fortune begins to frown on a man, his enemies crop up by the scores in every direction, and all add a little to the victim's shortcomings, memories for which are long. It is a noble idea that of not kicking a man when he is down; but it seems to be honoured well in the breach. Once let a man trip and he is spared by few. It seems to be a law of nature to attack the wounded. The birds of the air do it and the beasts of the field, and the savage drives his spear into his wounded enemy. Civilisation uses other weapons than the steel-tipped ones; but they are none the less keen and effectual, for a wounded spirit often gets the sharp shaft of scorn sent clean through it. There is no mark of violence on the body, but there is a wound within that never heals.
Things went from bad to worse with old Dogvane until one day he and his watch were kicked, without ceremony, over the ship's side. What brought the final catastrophe about was that Dogvane very unwisely, or some of his hands, tried to tamper with the old Buccaneer's drink. Touch him on his stomach and you made an enemy of him at once. Chips no longer sang, and Billy Cheeks, the burly butcher, was more gloomy than ever. He was not a man of mirth. Even his jokes were heavy, but perhaps his trade affected his disposition; it often does. The cheery little cook never lost heart, and as they rowed ashore he gave them a tune on his barrel organ, and gave them a song in which he ridiculed the prominent men of the other watch, and, as a matter of course, the members of the Buccaneer's Upper Chamber came in for their fair share of good-natured criticism or abuse. As has been said, no one saw a blemish in a neighbour sooner than the cook, and if that neighbour happened to be one of the lords temporal, Pepper prodded him well with jeer, jest, and sneer.
As Dogvane and his mess-mates rowed ashore in disgrace, several heads appeared looking over the bulwarks of the after part of the old ship. These were the occupants of the Upper Chamber, who crawled from their state room like rats from their holes, when the cat is away. The old Church Hulk seemed to awake as from a deep slumber, and presently a hymn of praise and of thanksgiving rose up and was borne upon the breeze all over the Buccaneer's island, and the hearts of all the great Church dignitaries and their many followers rejoiced that the Lord had for the time being saved them from the hands of the Philistines; or in other words from Pepper, and Billy Cheeks. All on board the old Church Hulk, and very many others amongst the Buccaneer's people, fully believed that if once the moorings of the old Hulk were slipped and she was allowed to drift away from the Ship of State, the days of the Buccaneer would be surely numbered. Respectability declared that she could never then go to church, for that she certainly could not listen to a priest, who, no matter however good a Christian he might be, was not a gentleman, for it must be known that all Christians of the various other denominations outside the old Church Hulk, were scarcely deemed to belong to that extremely rare and privileged class.
As the Starboard went ashore the Port Watch came on board, all with their new brooms. There was the Captain, Bob Mainstay, by name, and his first Lieutenant, Ben Backstay, a good sailor and true. There was also a full compliment of other officers and men. Amongst the rest there was the cheery little midshipman, Random Jack, who was now on the eve of his promotion. It was wonderful how this little fellow had pushed himself to the front.
Wonders, it is known, never cease; but it was a strange sight to see the Port Watch rowed on board by Ojabberaway boatmen. When the weather-beaten old captain of the other watch saw this he smiled in a manner that was peculiar to him and said: "That won't last!" Then, as if speaking to himself, he added, "I wonder now, what was their price. Humph! there is nothing that Bob Mainstay can either promise, or give, that I cannot go beyond. Unless indeed, he and his crew chuck overboard all their principles. Ah! there's the rub. Principles and politics don't always pull together, and politics often, being the stronger of the two, pulls principles round with a bang."
Now there was an animated discussion all along the hard and amongst the Press, as to whether or not the Port Watch had been rowed on board by the Ojabberaways. Many were prepared to swear that it was so; that there could be no mistake about the matter. Others declared it was one of those optical delusions which are for ever happening to surprise and mystify people. Those who see the supernatural in almost everything, declared that this was merely a deception brought about by the devil. The Buccaneer's people were ready to believe almost anything just according to the party they belonged to, or the principles they professed. Indeed their credulity was so great in most things that the cunning rogue frequently reaped a rich harvest out of them. Astrologers were all dead, but the people, some of them, still dabbled in magic and believed in spiritualism.
Before the Port Watch left the shore they promised to do no end of things and their parting with the poor Beggar Woman, Patriotism, was most affecting. They said that so long as they had charge of the old Ship she should want for nothing. In fact everybody was to be made happy and like the ending of all good books, and works of fiction, virtue on all sides was to be rewarded. But the atmosphere of that old Ship clouded the best of memories. Besides, every one knows that promises are quite as cumbersome baggage as a conscience, and all those who wish to get on in the world must unload themselves of the one, as readily as they do of the other.
Many of the crew of the Ship of State kept their consciences on board of the old Hulk alongside, where they were cleaned and repaired and sent for when wanted.
The daily press having had their usual battle, settled down to dictate to the watch in charge what they had to do and what they had not to do. Indirectly it pretty well ruled the roost; told the captain what man he was to put here, and what man there; but Captain Mainstay filled up his different posts according to his own way of thinking, always bearing in view, of course, the Buccaneer's cherished custom. All this took some little time, for you cannot get things to fit on such principles all of a sudden. Accidents will happen, and chance will occasionally put a square man into a square hole and then he has with much difficulty to be pulled out and a round hole found for him.
New brooms invariably sweep clean and the Port Watch set themselves to work to clean up the mess left behind by old Dogvane and his lot. No one kicked up more dust than did the, at one time, little middy, who for his good behaviour was made steward of the household of the Buccaneer's Indian Princess. It was his duty to watch over her; to guard her against her enemies and especially to keep an eye upon the wicked Bandit of the East.
They all agreed for once, and declared that old Dogvane had left things in a terrible state of muddle, and they were unanimous in the belief that they had only stepped on board just in the nick of time to save the old Buccaneer from complete ruin; but this belief was also common to the other watch when they took charge. The cook's galley they said was in a shocking state and full of nothing but cheese parings; while he had scribbled all over the place, "the Upper Chamber must be destroyed." All people have their peculiarities, their whims and their fancies, and the clever little cook was not without his.
When the cook reached the shore, he went about with his barrel organ and sang songs about the iniquities of the other watch; of their indecent haste to get on board the old Ship and grab the emoluments attached to the several offices. The cook being placed in easy circumstances, by the profits he received from his barrel organ, could afford to be virtuously indignant.
Scarcely had the Port Watch settled down to their work than things went wrong with them. They did not in shaping their course make due allowance for the current of Public opinion, which at times set very strong, and the old Ship of State got into difficulties. Over the ship's side they went as quickly as they had climbed on board and the helm was again placed in the hands of that experienced old salt, William Dogvane, who was, however, requested by the Buccaneer to keep his weather eye open, for that if he caught him again napping it would be the worse for him.
"Master," said the captain, "it is no use your putting me on board this old ship unless you give me powers sufficient to keep the wild and mutinous Ojabberaways in order. They are simply playing the very devil."
This to the Buccaneer was a hopeful sign, for Dogvane had always been accused of sympathizing with this people and indeed of playing into their hands. With Dogvane came the conspirators of the cook's caboose. They still held together, though the carpenter was drifting away from his old comrades, into a purer and brighter atmosphere. The cook was like that pattern sailor, Billy Taylor, full of mirth and full of glee.
One fine morning the whole of the Buccaneer's island was awakened by a great hubbub on board of the old Ship. The Church Hulk was slumbering in a peaceful repose after her recent rude shaking. She had again settled down to her usual state.
Notwithstanding what old Dogvane had said to the contrary he soon began intriguing with the Ojabberaways and he made a rapid shift, coming to the conclusion that nothing would make the Ojabberaways eternally happy, but to give them everything they wanted. He said the old Ship thus lightened would ride easily ever afterwards. The cook, however, true to his hobby, said that it would be a great pity to waste the Ojabberaways when there was the whole of the Buccaneer's Upper Chamber weighing the old Ship down by the stern, and generally retarding her progress, and interfering considerably with her steering.
Things looked very bad, and Random Jack who was ashore was most eloquent, and declared for his part he should never be surprised to see a flare up on board the old Ship, when, no doubt, honest sailors would come by their dues. The noise upon the Ship of State roused up the crew of the ship alongside, for if there was to be a mutiny, or any thing of that kind going on, they felt sure they would be boarded, robbed, and cast adrift.
Just as people had conjectured; there was a mutiny on board the old ship, and amongst the Starboard Watch which old Dogvane had allowed to get a little out of hand.
Even the conspirators of the cook's caboose were torn asunder, and the hand of the cook wished to grapple round the throat of the carpenter. The cook abused poor Chips right merrily, and called him every name under the sun, and would allow him no virtue, and very little intelligence. Pepper, with Billy Cheeks the burly butcher, stuck to their captain with an affection that was pleasant to see, and there could not be a doubt that if all went well with the captain, these two would be amply rewarded for their fidelity. But the cabal of the cook's caboose was completely broken up.
The carpenter now behaved in a manner that did him very great credit, and surprised not a few. He turned his back upon the cook and the butcher, and this so displeased them that they never after had a good word to say for him.
It is most fortunate that this mutiny, unlike most other mutinies, was unattended with any bloodshed or loss of life, and of course, this being the case, it lost very much of its interest. Neither was the old Ship of State scuttled and then run on shore, robbed, plundered, and abandoned. Nor did the crew fall upon each other in the division of the plunder, cutting each other's throats and otherwise conducting themselves as is usual on such occasions, though it must be said that the Ojabberaways excited fear in many a breast.
How long the idea of freeing this people had been a quiet occupant of old Dogvane's breast, smouldering there as such things generally do, it is impossible to say. He was sphinxlike and could not be read. Nor was it at all easy to tell which way he would go, or what he would do; for he at all times made what is said to be the true and proper use of language, namely to disguise his thoughts. He also found it a most useful means of either screening an advance into an unknown, and unfriendly country, and also to cover his retreat when beaten. The upshot of the mutiny in the Starboard Watch was, that one fine morning our old Buccaneer woke up to find that Dogvane, his trusted captain, in whom he had placed so much confidence, had gone over bag and baggage to the Ojabberaways, and that he had taken with him Pepper the cook, and Billy Cheeks the burly butcher.
The captain had apparently come to a hurried conclusion, and had risen in the dead of night, and having hastily stowed away his sea chest, and called to his side his beloved son, the small band deserted their old comrades, and turned their backs upon them for ever.
When all these things became noised abroad, very great was the consternation, and it set many tongues wagging, and all kinds of things were said. The carpenter was very much applauded even by those who at one time had plentifully abused him; but in this world of ours nothing lasts long; the sinner of to-day is the saint of to-morrow, and the only thing needful is to wait. Chips, the carpenter, was now thought fit company for the noblest in the land; no doubt, all this was most gratifying, and if it had not been for the constant prods, that the cook kept on giving him with his flesh fork, the prongs of which were dipped in gall; and the occasional sarcasms hurled at him by Billy Cheeks, no doubt Chips would have been a happy man.
As is always the case on such occasions, vague rumours got about, some of which turned out in the end to be true. It was said, upon what was supposed to be very good authority, that Dogvane was to be crowned king of the Ojabberaways, and all, both friends and enemies, wished him joy.
There are those who go about seeking kingdoms; carpet-bag kings in fact, but Dogvane was not one of these kind of pedlars, though if a kingdom was thrust upon him, of course he could not help himself.
It is very much to be regretted that ill-nature did not spare Captain Dogvane; but it did not, and very many most improbable stories now got wind. It was said, amongst other things, that every night before going to bed, when anything had gone wrong with him in the day, that he tore up his night shirt. The story is scarcely worthy of credence, but even if it were true, history affords many examples of a like nature. We are told on the most reliable authority that the Patriarchs of old whenever they were put about invariably rent their garments, and even King David himself, it would appear, was very much given to this practice. A king of course can do no wrong; but amongst people of lower degree the habit should be discountenanced, both on the score of expense, and of decency.
It was also said that Pepper was to be rewarded for his fidelity to his master by being made court jester to Dogvane, king of the Ojabberaways, and that in addition, he was to be chancellor of the exchequer, custodian of the Ojabberaways' morals, and a teacher to them of manners. These offices were brought under one head for the sake of economy, and as Pepper was an enemy to all official extravagance, this combination pleased him. All thought he would have quite enough to do; but then Pepper was an able man, and what to others would have been fraught with very great difficulty, was to him a matter of ease. It is a happy thing to be especially endowed by Providence. Billy Cheeks, the burly butcher, was also promoted from his humble position on board the old Ship of State, so it was said, to be minister of justice to the king of the Ojabberaways, for he had some legal knowledge and gravity enough for a judge, and as things were to be conducted on strictly economical principles, he was also to preside over the Ojabberaways' High Court of Assassination. He was to be also the keeper of the king's conscience. It was thought that he also would have enough to do.
Again did the Port Watch step on board with that jaunty and devil-me-care air, so peculiar to sailors. Random Jack was given a higher post even than that which he had held before; for he was made keeper of the Till and holder of the Buccaneer's Great Purse, offices only held by men of the most approved ability, and integrity. Many believed that he was destined on some future day to command one of the watches, but there seemed to be some difference of opinion as to which. Many indeed there were who pinned their faith to Random Jack, and many there also were who asked themselves how it was that he had thus made his way. Some affirmed that it was by his undoubted ability, but quite as many declared that it was by his unbounded impudence, frequently called self-confidence. Possibly it was by a happy combination of the above two qualities that he had been so successful. Certain it is that no man can expect to rise to a great height unless he has a good share of the last of the above virtues, for it is the only one that the world truly appreciates.
Of all things there is nothing like success. The middy now, instead of being ridiculed, sneered at, and flouted, was taken up, and those who before would have passed him by without bestowing upon him even so much as a supercilious nod now claimed an acquaintance with him, and declared that they had seen all along the superior stuff he was made of.
Those people who know everything, and they are so many that it is little short of a wonder that the world still keeps so uninlightened, said they should never be surprised to find that Random Jack had entered into an alliance with the carpenter, and obtained through him and others the command of the Starboard Watch; but the carpenter was an ambitious man. Upon the old cox'sn being asked his opinion about Random Jack, he gave it, as was his custom, and according to his own fashion. "The lad is good enough, d'ye see. He has parts, and he's got his head pointing in the right direction; if only he has his ballast all aboard. But, my mates, he seems a bit light at times, and does not stand up well to his canvas, but that will come in due course; that will come when he has trimmed his ship a bit. Then he has a knack of steering a bit wide at times; now coming up in the eye of the wind, until he is nearly taken aback; then veering away until he nearly wears round on the other tack, why, his wake, my lads, is about as straight as a cork-screw. Give him more ballast, and a steadier hand at the helm, and the lad will steer a good course through life. Them's my sentiments, mates."
But one fine day when Random Jack was sailing pleasantly along with all plain sail set to a fair wind of public opinion, he suddenly, without rhyme or reason, put his helm down, and everything went by the board, and Random Jack was left a sport to the waves of Fortune, without either sails or rudder, and it was doubtful whether he would ever again make the fair land of Promise.
But before all this a sad thing happened on board the old Ship of State. The first lieutenant of the Port Watch, honest Ben Backstay, had, so many people thought, been treated in a somewhat scurvy manner, not only by the captain of the watch, but by some of his mess-mates. On one occasion he was tripped up, it was said, by Random Jack and another, and poor old Ben was hurt considerably, though like the brave sailor that he was, he never uttered a word of complaint; but as a slight reward he was kicked upstairs into the Buccaneer's Upper Chamber, thereby falling under the displeasure of the immortal Pepper.
If honest Ben had any feelings he never showed them, and of course, not doing so they were not respected. One morning the whole ship's crew were stricken with sorrow, for Ben, while at his post, heard Him whom all must obey, call his name; so leaving his body below, his soul soared up aloft. The flag of the old Ship of State was half masted, and minute guns were fired. The bells from the church towers tolled out the mournful news, and the Church Hulk sent up to Heaven a requiem on behalf of poor Ben. He was a staunch friend of this old Ship, and she could ill afford, in such perilous times, to lose even one supporter. The Buccaneer mourned the loss of his trusty servant, and he kept a small spot in his heart wherein to plant a few flowers of memory to honest Ben Backstay, and as they towed him to his last moorings, the old Buccaneer said: "Let us all hope that poor Ben Backstay, like poor Tom Bowling, may find pleasant weather, until He who all commands, shall give to call life's crew together the word, to pipe all hands." There was much sorrowing in the land, and many a heart was sad.
Ah! the human heart is but a grave-yard, where lie buried many hopes that never survive even their first childhood; many ambitions cut off in all the freshness of youth, and many friends. As we live, we bear there from time to time, the cherished remains of someone, or of something we love. In our lonely hours we sit by these silent graves, and shed many warm tears of sorrow over them; wishing oftentimes, that we could bring back the dead. Thus we sit, and sit, and mourn, and mourn, day after day, and night after night. At length our sun sets, and our eyes grow dim in the waning light, until at last they close forever. With us we take our little grave-yard, with all its flowers, and bear it away into the great darkness of eternity.
Things with the Buccaneer had so gone from bad to worse and so preyed upon his mind that his body became affected and he was seized with illness of a lingering kind; but the nature of his illness no one knew.
Now his island was celebrated for men skilled in the treatment of every known disease that man is heir to. Many of these men were specialists, that is to say, they bestowed the whole of their labour and attention upon some one particular disease, or part of the human body. Others again were faddists, that is, they pinned their faith to some particular course of treatment. One of these tried upon the Buccaneer total abstinence, but he got so weak and irritable that this man was shown the door. He went away perfectly well satisfied that the Buccaneer's life was merely a matter of days. Another doctor was called in, who declared he was no advocate for slops and physic. A generous, but plain diet, with plenty of fish to strengthen the brain, the whole washed down by a tablespoonful of whisky diluted well with water, twice a day, was all that was required; but on no account to touch claret, which, he declared, was little better than poison, while sherry was molten lead to the strongest stomach. This advice was not given in the above simple terms, for no little of the physician's skill depends upon a grave deportment, and the use of a language altogether unintelligible to the ordinary mind. Then when by long familiarity the understanding does begin to grasp a name, a new denomination is found for an old complaint, or something fresh is manufactured out of the weakness of the human body. The above treatment was acceptable for a time; but it soon began to pall upon one who had all his life been accustomed to good living, so another doctor had to be tried. When this eminent man heard of the course prescribed by his predecessor, he raised his eyebrows and smiled in a grave and wise manner; there being no approach, however, to coarse and vulgar mirth. "Ah!" he said, as he read over the prescription and order of diet, "brother Grain is a very clever fellow, without doubt, but he has his whims and fancies. Whisky he swears by, because he likes it himself; but I confidently assert that you cannot drink anything very much worse. A little good sound claret, not any of those mixtures, mind you, that are made at home, but a good, pure, wholesome, sound, and not manufactured wine. This, and a diet of game, or fowl, will bring you relief. The nature of your disease is to be explained simply thus: Imperfect mastication and a slight weakness of the salivary glands not bringing about a healthy deglutition there is in consequence a corresponding loss of chymification, followed by imperfect chylification, and thus the food is not properly acted upon before it passes through the pyloric opening into the duodenum. Having had the above explained to you in this simple and unpedantic manner, you will, no doubt, my dear sir, feel very much more at ease." Having thus delivered himself, the doctor took both his fee and his departure.
How sad it is that the poor human body cannot run through its brief span of life, without having to carry about inside it a bottled-up disease of some kind or other, which in time eats through the cork, or stopper, and flows out all over the system, poisoning everything. Taking away all sunshine, all happiness, until at length it dries up the channels of life; not sparing either the great and rich, but attacking the mighty as well as the lowly; not leaving alone so great a man even as our bold Buccaneer. It is sad, but then there is a crowd waiting for us to move on.
After the faddists came the specialists. Each one of these saw in the Buccaneer's illness some one of the symptoms of his own especial disease. Many of these most eminent men met in consultation, and there was a great diversity of opinion. Each of the learned physicians flew at once to his particular part of the Buccaneer's body. One said he was suffering from dropsy and that nothing would save him but immediate tapping. Another said it was stone, while a third was equally sure it was his kidneys that were affected; this happening to be at the time the fashionable disease. The exploring needle was thrust into every part of the patient's body, with the result that some skulking disease was said to be at the end of it, like a base conspirator plotting at the great man's life. They one and all agreed, however, that the patient was suffering from plethora, brought about by a too generous diet, which so often accompanied very great prosperity. So before they left they bled him freely; but still he neither recovered nor did he mend.
Only one set of specialists dare not approach him, and these were the mad doctors; those who treated the human mind. So sensitive was the Buccaneer on this point that it was extremely dangerous to mention the subject of insanity. He allowed all his idiots and maniacs to go about at large, and he never interfered with them until they killed some one, or outraged society by some scandalous act of indecency. They were then locked up to keep them from doing further injury.
The old coxswain stood by his master and prevented him from being either starved, bled, or physiced to death. His neighbours too, all took a kind interest in his welfare. Looked in just to see how he was getting on, and to see how long he was likely to last. Said they hoped he would soon recover; but in their hearts they hoped he never would. On their faces, as is the custom, they wore a deep look of concern; sympathised with all his sufferings, and told him to cheer up, for that they felt confident he would pull through. Inwardly they were considering what of the Buccaneer's property they would lay their hands upon, when the old gentleman became too weak to defend himself. This is not hypocrisy, it springs from that most laudable motive of not wishing to prolong the suffering, or hurt the feelings, even of a rival.
But what caused the poor old gentleman more annoyance than anything was the way some of the members of his family behaved, taking advantage of the old gentleman's state of health to pester him almost to death, and would not take no, for an answer. His daughters even gave him no peace, and their shrill voices were to be heard even above the men's, clamouring for all kind of things.
Some of them put on their nursing caps and bib-aprons and fell to wrangling amongst themselves as to how the sick man was to be treated, while at one end of the room, one Zedekiah Cant, had enthroned himself, and held forth, by way of comforting the sick man's soul, upon the horrors of hell. This reverend gentleman had slipped into the room while two priests belonging to the old Church Hulk fell foul of each other on the door-step over a matter of orthodoxy.
The old coxswain tried his best to keep them all quiet, and he read many of them a lecture; but just as he had succeeded in establishing a little peace in rushed one of the daughters—the one who, at the march-past of the disaffected, had begged that all violent death might be banished from the Buccaneer's kingdom. "Look here, sir," she exclaimed, holding up a pigeon. "It's dead!"
"Who is dead?" cried the old Buccaneer, as he raised himself up in bed, and looked fiercely round like some old terrier who on a sudden smells a rat. "Has anything happened to the Eastern Bandit?" he asked. The ruling passion it is well known is strong even in death.
"Far, far worse, sir," cried his daughter. "In wanton sport your cruel-minded sons have killed this poor, unoffending bird. Its life has been sacrificed to provide a holiday for the idle."
The Buccaneer finding that it was not his old rival who had come to grief, sank down again and appeared quite unconcerned. Miss Progress now requested silence and she at once commenced to lecture the Buccaneer upon the theory of atoms; but even this did not seem to revive the drooping spirits of the sick man. It, however, edified the lecturer to no small degree, therefore it was not altogether barren of results. No sooner had this daughter finished than another came forward, until at length the Buccaneer, who was not ill enough to stand all this worrying, requested his coxswain to pack the whole lot about their business. This he did with extreme pleasure, and he assisted Zedekiah down-stairs with the toe of his boot. As he was kicked out of the front door he was attacked and well rated by the two clerical disputants, who dropped their discussion to do battle with him.
The old coxswain took this to be a good sign, "Ah!" he said to himself, "if my old master would only rip out an oath or two, like he used to in our good old fighting days, it would gladden my heart and I would say there's life in the old dog yet."
Now there lived in the Buccaneer's island a celebrated quack, Doctor Politics by name, and there was scarcely anything that this man was not supposed to be capable of doing. He had practised long and with success and he was said to be extremely clever; having a remedy for everything as most quacks have, and as he suited his fees to every pocket he did a very good business, and was becoming more powerful in the Buccaneer's island every day he lived. No doubt this man had worked some very great cures and had brought relief to many suffering bodies; but the great quack, like all great men, had his failings. Having been successful in some things he thought himself skilled in all, and his bearing soon became presumptuous and offensive in the extreme. People, however, believed in him, and that was all that was necessary. Of course he made mistakes at times, and his patients occasionally slipped through his hands, and occasionally the cure was worse than the disease; but accidents will happen even to the cleverest men, and when he made a mistake very little was heard of it.
In an evil hour the Buccaneer put himself entirely in the hands of this physician, who when he entered the sick man's room, began to make great alterations both in medicine and diet. He was a most expensive man and his fees were exorbitant, but to one as wealthy as the Buccaneer, money is no object, and indeed he thought all the better for those things which he paid well for.
"Sir," said the quack, "I have only been called in just in time. You are suffering from a very severe depression, brought about by too good living." In this he seemed to agree with the other physicians. "Your constitution is impaired, and even endangered, and your interior economy is altogether wrong. I will prescribe for you a strict regimen. Every action must be regulated by law, I will lay down for you what you are to eat, and what you are to drink, how much, and at what times. Your hours of labour shall be defined, and also your hours for recreation; the latter I will in time make to equal, or exceed, the hours of toil. Your hours of sleep shall also be regulated, and indeed every action of your life shall be brought under proper control, so that you need never trouble yourself about anything, and any independent thought on your part, or even action, will be quite unnecessary and altogether out of place."
As is well known old servants frequently presume upon their position, and old Jack was no exception to the rule, so he said, "We have enough of your sort of medicine, doctor, on hand already and to spare. What my master wants is a little more freedom."
The doctor looked up from the work he was at and said, "Indeed, may I ask, my good sir, at what college you took your degree? Are you one of those narrow-minded bigots, who not being able to see beyond your own nose, which by the way seems to me to be an unusually long one, declare that all beyond is ignorance and folly? Pray, may I ask if you are hom[oe]opath, or allopath?"
The old coxswain took no notice but creeping up to his master he whispered in his ear, "Master, master, have a care. This fellow is weaving a straight waistcoat for you, and God only knows, you are cramped enough as it is."
But the Buccaneer did not understand his old friend and so the quack continued his work, and presently said, addressing the coxswain, "Well, my man, I will have nothing to do with you, and as you are likely to interfere with my treatment with your cut and dried notions, your room will be better than your company. Your master requires no fruit of the medlar kind."
"If your medicine," replied Jack, "is of the same kind as your joke, it won't kill with laughter if it does not cure, and there's comfort in that."
"Begone, thou dotard!" cried the quack, "and mumble your old wives' sayings to old wives' ears." Thus was poor old Jack banished from his master's room. One of the accusations brought against the Buccaneer was that he turned his back upon his friends. About the truth of this it is not necessary to trouble; in such things, and indeed in many others that ill nature floats, there is generally sufficient to give a colouring. One thing is certain, he now allowed a well-tried, and honest old servant, to be put on the wrong side of the door.
Like some faithful old dog, Jack hung about the place and often, and often tried to steal into his master's room, just to see how he was getting on. He swore he would be silent and not utter a word, but poor old Jack's reputation for silence was not great, and the quack doctor kept such an eye upon his patient that he could scarcely dare move, or speak, without his authority. The only consolation that old Jack had was to cry out in the hearing of everybody, "Well, damme! if this is liberty, give me the four iron-windowed stone walls of a prison for choice." But nobody seemed to heed him.
It was a sad sight to see this, at one time, daring old Buccaneer, so fettered and bound. Many a good fight had he fought for the sake of his freedom and after all it had only brought him to this. Evils, it is well known, never come alone, and misfortune after misfortune befell him, for one morning the merry round-faced sun rose with a broader smile than usual upon his jolly red face. It was found that Madam Liberty, of whom people had talked and prated so much, and made such a to-do about, toadying, and flattering her, on even the smallest occasion, had turned out to be no better than she should have been. The precise name by which she was known it is not necessary to mention. Women of her class have at all times played conspicuous parts in the world's history; being even favoured of princes and other noble personages, while one even was made the consort of an emperor and sat upon an Eastern throne. But a greater surprise was still in store for people, for one morning they rose up to find that the modern Phryne had disappeared in a most mysterious manner and many believed that she had been made away with by her son, Demos. This individual had now grown to great consideration in the Buccaneer's island, and under the patronage of the quack he had been made custodian of the household, and keeper of the old Buccaneer's honour; but the latter office under his care soon became a mere sinecure. In turn Demos became the master even of the quack, who had done so much to place him where he was; but is not the story of kicking away the ladder by which you have climbed, a very old one?
The uncrowned queen, Respectability, still held her sway, but her kingdom had become more confined, and she became a most prim, and exclusive sovereign. The great quack doctor treated her with the utmost consideration and politeness, and even Demos, who was for pulling down everything, tried to gain her over, but her majesty became extremely haughty and reserved, and would have little or nothing to do with him.
But now the sorrow of sorrows has to be told. It was a wild and stormy night. The rain swept over the island in blinding sheets. The wind howled amongst the rigging of the old Ship of State, and the wild waves dashed against the rock-bound coast, throwing up clouds of spray, and roaring like hungry monsters, eager to devour their prey. The old sign-board over the door of the Constitution public-house laboured to and fro in the blast, and groaned every now and again as if in pain. The light from a feeble lamp shed its uncertain rays upon two forms lying side by side on the cold, damp earth, and the wind as it passed them seemed to sing a funeral dirge to the Buccaneer's two best friends, the Beggar Woman, Patriotism, and the old coxswain, Jack Commonsense.
The two of them had travelled side by side on the road to Misfortune; begging about from door to door, but they claimed neither pity nor sympathy, all people being much too busy with their own affairs to pay them any attention. At length they dragged their starved bodies to die in front of the old house they both loved so well. With the loss of these two the Buccaneer's days, it was believed, were numbered.
Little is left to be told now. The sick man occasionally rallied, and he loved to dwell like most old men of every station in life, upon his past. He was also given to occasional fits of boasting, and when he did do anything he took good care to let all the world know it. "Did you see that!" he would cry out in an ecstasy of delight. "Did you see the mighty blow I struck? Never in my palmiest days did I do better. Hide, hide your diminished heads, ye Ramillies, Malplaquet, and Waterloo." These famous battles he loved to talk about.
He also took a strange delight in showering upon all his people all kinds of honours or distinctions, and it was said that men were decorated for doing little or nothing. This was a symptom of decay.
Sometimes as he sat pillowed up in his invalid's chair, with the great quack doctor in attendance upon him, he would mumble to himself, "Aye, aye, I knew thee well. There was Wallop, he swept the seas. There was brave Howard, Hawkins, Frobisher, and the rest, and you, my little man! No, no, I've not forgotten Trafalgar and the Nile. Don't you remember them all, Jack? Jack! Jack! where's my cox'sn, he never used to play the truant," but Jack never answered to his call, and the old man wandered on. "Clack, clack go my windlasses; yo! ho! cry my men. Heave in, my lads. Sheet home and hoist up, and bear away for the main."
The great quack smiled as he glanced his eyes up at the long row of shelves, with their burdens of remedies, all of which had been prescribed to meet some fresh complaint, and many a costly dose had been given, which only aggravated the disease; and of many of the others, all that could be said was, that if they did no good, they at least did no harm; but the straight waistcoat every day received some slight addition, which contracted still more the old Buccaneer's actions, until in time he could scarcely call his soul his own.
Thus did this great man pass his declining years. Ruled over by a tyrannical quack. Worried by his own children, to whom he had given every indulgence, at the recommendation of Madam Liberty, until it could with justice be said that they one and all combined to bring the old Buccaneer's grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.
It is usual in all books, and it is even necessary before you close your pages to kill some of the characters, if not all. Sometimes they die a natural death, at others they are either blown up with gun-powder, or otherwise made away; either with the steel blade, or the leaden bullet of the assassin. The characters who have strutted for a brief space upon the pages of this history must be allowed to die peacefully. The star of Dogvane, the king of the Ojabberaways, after resting for a short while over the green isle of his adoption, set forever in the Western Ocean. His chief jester, the merry Pepper, the man of infinite wisdom and resource, also passed away. Dogvane was never allowed to carry out his grand design of covering the naked population of the Soudan in home-made fabrics. Nor was the cook soothed in his last moments by seeing the object of his life accomplished, namely, the total abolition of the Buccaneer's Upper Chamber; consequently we cannot imagine that his end was peace.
It is a pity that Death is no respecter of persons; had he been, the gifted Pepper, would, no doubt, have been spared to amuse and enlighten the world. Of the other conspirators of the cook's caboose, after having served their allotted time, they also passed away, and it is not recorded that Billy Cheeks, before he died, set fire to the waters of the river that flowed by the Buccaneer's chief city. The carpenter rose high in his master's household, and carried to his grave a goodly load of honour. Of the rest, let history tell what truth or what lies it likes, here no more will be recorded. It will be remembered that our bold Buccaneer was at one time sorely grieved because he only had one general. This seemed to prey so upon his mind in his last days, that he tried to make amends for his past neglect by making generals by the score, whether they were fitted for the position or not; nor did the Buccaneer stop here, for he gave military titles to nearly all his sons, in the hope, no doubt, that amongst the crowd there might be one military genius, or perhaps two.
But stranger things were yet in store for the world, and a graver symptom of decaying power had yet to manifest itself. It has been already said that no man ever did more to degrade noble distinctions and marks of honour than did this, at one time, celebrated Buccaneer, in his declining years. It is true that he had not sunk quite so low as one of his neighbours, who sold such things for a mere money consideration; but he had in his latter years gone some considerable way even in this direction, for he had made money a stepping-stone to preferment. The one who placed drunkenness within easy reach of his people, might reasonably expect to be made a peer. The successful oil-man, or grocer, who had made his five talents into ten, need not despair of earning the at one time honourable distinction of knighthood, while any one who served his party well, even if it were to the discredit of his country, was pretty certain to be ennobled. The number of new creations was so great, that his heraldic officers were nearly worn-out with finding ancestors and pedigrees for all these great people, and it was wonderful what things their industry, and their ingenuity, brought to light. Frequently they followed the poet's art and gave "to airy nothing a local habitation and a name."
Had he promoted all his cooks to seats in the Council Chamber it would not have been so very extraordinary a thing, considering the part that cooks play in this world of ours. The Buccaneer now put a climax to his folly by one day making all his tinkers lords, and all his tailors knights. Whether this was done in a spirit of irony, or from a deep conviction that, as he had gone so far, he could not in justice draw any hard and fast line, will never be known. He was without doubt the best tinker the world had ever seen, and he had a very large show of tinkered pots, pans, and kettles, always on hand, but many thought he might have stopped here.
These last acts were considered to be of so grave a nature that the priest took the place of the doctor, and when this happens little else remains to be told.
Before closing the pages of this history, another catastrophe must be recorded. In one of those storms which were of frequent occurrence in the Buccaneer's island, the old Church Hulk, which had ridden alongside of the Ship of State for so many years in fair weather and in foul, slipped her moorings one dark night, either by accident, or otherwise, and she drifted on to the rocks of discord, and being broken up was plundered; her own crew being fortunate enough to save some of her cargo of riches for themselves. After all was over they set to work to accuse and abuse each other. Some indeed expressed open satisfaction at what had happened, for the discipline on board the old Church Ship had long been too severe for them, and signs of mutiny and insubordination had long been manifest, as has been already shown. These felt that now they could worship their God how they liked, when they liked, and in what costume they liked; and those who wished it, and there were not a few, could even worship more gods than one.
The loss of the Church Ship was put down to various causes by her crew. Some said it was the work of the devil; others said it was through the wickedness of men; but very few of them thought of applying to themselves the proverb, which the old coxswain and his master had brought from the Spanish Main.
There are different opinions as to how the world is to end. Some say it will eventually fall a prey to that rapacious monster, the sun, which seems to be according to these people a veritable gourmand; requiring an enormous quantity of food to keep him going, and thinking no more of a planet than an ordinary individual does of an oyster. Others seem to think that the present inhabitants are to be frozen out, while others again think that the balance of things is to be upset, and that some day we shall, world and all, be flung into unlimitable space, waking up eventually perhaps the peace and quiet of some far off system. Whatever the method, the result will be the same, so far as the inhabitants are concerned. All people are selfish enough to hope that things will last their time, for no matter how the world is abused, and called all sorts of bad names, but few leave it willingly, and if they could look out upon the many beauties with which they are surrounded; if they could be cured of their blindness, they would see something fresh every day to give them pleasure.
It was equally a matter of doubt as to how this brave old Buccaneer was to make his final exit. Frequently the last stroke of death is not given by that ailment that has been threatening through life. But as to the Buccaneer? Would his neighbours step in, and taking advantage of his weakness, knock the old gentleman on the head, and then divide his riches amongst themselves, and thus save all further trouble to administrators and executors? Would Demos, taking advantage of the position his wanton mother Liberty had placed him in, club the old gentleman, and so give him the finishing stroke? Such a thing has happened before now, in the world's history, and it may happen again. Children petted and spoiled, have ere now risen against their parents, and have cruelly treated them. Was the old Buccaneer, the prosperous trader, to have the last drop of blood sucked out of him, by the foreign parasites and cheap-Jacks, or was he doomed to have the last spark of life trampled out of him by the Ojabberaways? Again, what if this old Buccaneer, who had sailed for so many years under the death's head and cross-bones, were destined to end his days under Petticoat Government? There would be a strange irony in this, and such a thing would go far, no doubt, to rectify the many injustices that the fair sex from the beginning has been subjected to. Revenge is sweet, and no doubt if this were to happen, the last moments of the Buccaneer would not be passed in peace. But of his end who can tell? It would be but waste of time further to surmise, for we must say farewell to our brave old friend. We will leave him in the hands of the great quack doctor and his numerous attendants. What matters it, whether after lingering for a while below, he was taken up to heaven on a snow white cloud, the fringe of which was illumined by the glowing embers of a world he loved so well, and in which he had played a by no means insignificant part? What if he passed away before the final consummation of all things, leaving his spirits behind to walk the earth, and to encourage some weary traveller who, commencing life as a Buccaneer, lives in after years under the protection of the great uncrowned queen Respectability, and takes for his fancy dress the cowl and frock of a monk?
The last moments of the great and powerful are sad to contemplate, and are not lightly to be intruded upon. We see the mighty intellect impaired, and the babbling tongue let loose. We see the strong arm that was once the terror of all those who came within its reach lying listless on the counterpane, with emaciated fingers whose strength is not sufficient to crush a fly. Character, virtue, intellect, all that goes to make a man great, have to retire into the shade of the sick chamber, and wait patiently there, silently watching the ravages that are being made. Then with the last breath of the dying man, Reputation spreads her wings, soiled perhaps, and torn by slander, and pierced by the sharp pointed shafts of ill-nature, and takes refuge in the marble palaces of History, where things are cleansed and purified, or condemned to everlasting obloquy.
We drop the curtain, and wish this celebrated Buccaneer a long good night.