The Life of a Celebrated Buccaneer Part 25

"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 r.e.t.a.r.ding her progress, and interfering considerably with her steering.

Things looked very bad, and Random Jack who was ash.o.r.e 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.

CHAPTER XL.

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 sh.o.r.e, 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 n.o.blest 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 p.r.o.ngs 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 a.s.sa.s.sination. 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 pa.s.sed 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 c.o.x'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.

CHAPTER XLI.

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 coa.r.s.e 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 a.s.sert 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 deglut.i.tion there is in consequence a corresponding loss of chymification, followed by imperfect chylification, and thus the food is not properly acted upon before it pa.s.ses 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 c.o.xswain 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-ap.r.o.ns 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 h.e.l.l. 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 c.o.xswain 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 pa.s.sion 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 c.o.xswain to pack the whole lot about their business. This he did with extreme pleasure, and he a.s.sisted 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 c.o.xswain 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 const.i.tution 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."