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                  THE LIFE OF A CELEBRATED BUCCANEER

    _A PAGE OF PAST HISTORY FOR THE USE OF THE CHILDREN OF TO-DAY_

                          BY RICHARD CLYNTON


    LONDON
    SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO.
    PATERNOSTER SQUARE.

    1889




LIFE OF A CELEBRATED BUCCANEER.




CHAPTER I.


Once upon a time there lived on an island, separated from the main land
of Europe by a silver streak of the ocean, a celebrated Buccaneer.

There was a rugged grandeur about the rock-bound coast of this island,
with its bluff, bold headlands and beetling cliffs, where the sea birds
loved to make their nests high up above the spray; mingling their cries
with the voice of the ocean as it rushed into its wide and deep throated
caverns. The waves, too, worked ever, and for ever, a broad fretwork
collar round these rocky shores. Unlucky was the ship that found this
island on her lee in a gale of wind. Many a child had been made
fatherless there, and many a wife a widow. But to those who knew how to
thread their way through the many channels, numerous bays, creeks, and
rivers, offered a safe retreat either from the storm or from an enemy.

This island was a fit home for one following the profession of a
Buccaneer. Its natural advantages were extremely great; for not only was
it difficult of access, but its innumerable big throated caverns opened
their wide jaws ready to receive anything that floated in from the
ocean. However, this bold pirate did such a good business, that in a
short time these caves became too small, so he had to build wharves and
warehouses to hold his plunder; for he lived in such an age, and was
surrounded by such unprincipled people, that he could not leave his
things lying about on the shore. Besides which, the climate was not
good, being frequently visited by fogs, gales of wind, and very heavy
rains.

Soon villages rose up; then towns, which in their turn grew into great
cities, the principal of which were generally planted by the side of
some one of his many rivers. Soon the bays and rivers became crowded
with ships, and the shores were busy scenes of industry. Cargoes were
being landed. Sails were being made and repaired; ropes overhauled and
restranded, and the smell of the pitch caldrons rose up and mingled with
the salt air blown in fresh from the sea. Shipwrights' hammers resounded
along the shores, and were echoed back by the beetling cliffs. While the
men worked, the women sang, and the chubby-faced, fair-haired children
played about on the beach.

To those who ask how our bold Buccaneer acquired most of his property,
it must be answered that it came to him in a manner usual in those
times. Everybody laid their hands upon what they could, and then devoted
all their spare time and energy to the keeping of it. Title deeds were
for the most part written in blood, with a sharp-pointed one-nibbed
steel pen. When we live in Rome we must do as the Romans do, and we must
not set up to be better than our neighbours, that is, if we wish to
prosper, and when all the world is going in for universal plunder it
does not pay to stand on one side, with hands idle, arms folded, and
eyes upturned to heaven, saying that people are wicked. Needs must when
the devil drives.

It has been a time-honoured custom to rob and kill, so that riches may
be laid up; then it becomes the duty of all to watch lest the thief
breaks through and steals. This primitive method of doing business is
now justly condemned, and all nations pay at least a tribute to virtue,
by flinging a cloth over any shady action. But nations even now have to
maintain their dignity. Insults have to be resented, and ambitious
designs have to be frustrated. Battles are fought, and people are
slaughtered, and some one, as the saying is, has to pay the piper.

It would almost seem, by a contemplation of things in general, that man
by nature is a robber, the action changing its colour according to the
atmosphere that people have to live in. In barbarous ages the act of
plunder is done openly, and a fellow-creature is sent about his
business, either with a broken head or with a spear through his body,
and there is an end to him, and perhaps the world is not much the
poorer. That honesty is the best policy is, by experience, forced upon
us; but even now, in our most enlightened age, the individual will at
times adulterate his liquor, sand his sugar, and sell short weight,
though he may try to sanctify the deed by saying his prayers before and
after; thus adding somewhat to the general stock of humbugs, hypocrites,
and Pharisees. But to our story.

It was a noble sight to see this bold Buccaneer getting under weigh with
his fleet of ships. Clack, clack went the windlasses, and his brave lads
could be heard singing as they lifted their anchors a peak--

    Merrily round our capstans go
      As we heave in the slack of our chain,
    Into our sails the north winds blow
      As we bear away from the main.
        Yo ho, my lads, heave ho!

Home went the sheets. Up went the yards, and the sails bellied out to
the wind. On the shores crowded the women and children. The little ones
with shock heads of curly hair, the sport of the breeze, crying after
their fathers, holding up their tearful little faces for the sea-breeze
to kiss. The wives wishing their brave lads a prosperous voyage, and a
safe return, with plenty of plunder. Silks and spices from the East, and
gold and silver from the West, or wherever they could find it. Away went
the ships, with their white canvas spread like the wings of a seagull.
Soon the hulls were down, and the white specks, after lingering for a
while upon the far-off horizon, sank beneath and vanished. Then sending
a sigh after their mates on the wings of the north wind, the women
returned to their homes and sang their young sea whelps to sleep, with
lullabies tuned to the daring deeds of their fathers.




CHAPTER II.


Things in this world do not remain shady long. Time works wonders and
throws the halo of romance over the darkest deeds. See what time and
romance have done for William Tell. Look at your Alexander and your
Frederick; are not they both called great? Ah! these two were conquerors
not plunderers; and there lies the difference, though perhaps Maria
Theresa and one or two others might have had something to say against
one of these fine fellows. Then there is Robin Hood. Have not time and
romance completely changed the aspect of that, at one time, bold and
notorious outlaw? For over fifty years did this jolly robber enjoy
himself upon other people's property. Look too at the numerous other
gentlemen of the road; your crusaders and adventurers in early times.
What were the hardy Norsemen, of whom we love to sing? There is
something very attractive about your robber, no matter whether he
carries on his profession by sea or land, the only thing needful being,
to study him at a distance, and through the halo of this said romance.
If it were not for the world's great robbers what would historians have
to record; what would poets have to sing about? If they had to confine
themselves to the virtuous actions, to the good that is done, their
occupation would be gone. The chronicling of small beer is a waste of
labour.

But there comes a time when the very worst of sinners are troubled by
that mysterious part of the human economy known by the name of
conscience. This conscience is at times a veritable tyrant, saying what
we shall eat, what we shall drink, and what we shall do. To the many the
matter is not one of difficulty. If they have to make their way in the
world, conscience is either thrown overboard, or put under hatches until
such times as it is wanted. Then it comes up all the fresher for its
temporary retirement, and is, generally speaking, very exacting.

The disposition to repent of the evil we have done is not confined
either to age, time, or sex happily. The call comes perhaps, more often,
and earlier, to women than it does to men. Jezebel was not altogether as
good as she ought to have been, but even she might have turned over a
new leaf, and have become a most respectable saint, had not misfortune
thrown her across the path of that impetuous fellow Jehu, with the
result that she was, as every one knows, thrown out of a window. Had
Jezebel lived in the Buccaneer island in his later days, and had she
been young and beautiful, and the paint not too thick upon her face, she
might have been tried for some small act of indiscretion, such for
instance as that trifling incident about Naboth; but probably she would
have been acquitted, when no doubt she would have left the court without
a stain upon her character, and would have been an object of sympathy
ever after. This lady has left a numerous family of daughters behind
her, many of whom, however, turn over new leaves, and having been
considerable sinners, become the most straight-laced, unpitying, and
uncharitable of sour-faced saints. Poor Jezebel the first was never
given a chance. She lived too soon.

But to the point. The time came when our bold Buccaneer received, as the
saying is, his call, and it was brought about in the following manner.
In early times when saints walked about the earth calling sinners to
repentance, one found his way over to the Buccaneer's island, induced to
go there, not by the hope of any worldly gain in the shape of church
preferment or salary; and here lies much of the difference between a
modern saint and an ancient one. But the one, of whom we wish now
particularly to speak, was impelled by the hope of snatching this
burning brand from the devil's fire. Some of the Buccaneer's neighbours
had tried to convert him before this, by means of the sword, but without
effect, for the pirate's nest was a hard one to take, and the eggs burnt
the fingers of all those who attempted to touch them.

The precise spot where the saint landed is open to doubt; so is the
exact time and the method of his transit. Some declared that he came
over on a broomstick. Others again, said he used the ordinary means of
conveyance, and this is the most worthy of credence. About saints there
is generally something that is legendary. He preached his gospel to the
Buccaneer, and told him in the plainest language that he was going to
the devil, about whose dominion he drew such a glowing account that the
Buccaneer was moved.

He repented, and determined to turn over that wonderful leaf, that the
world is for ever hearing so much about, and seeing so little of. To
show his earnestness, the Buccaneer built churches and endowed them, and
not unfrequently out of the money that he took from other people. This
was but right. Belfries rose up in every nook and corner, and their iron
tongues could be constantly heard calling all pious buccaneers to
prayer.

But that befell the saint which sooner or later must happen to us all.
He died, but left behind him a book, which he told the Buccaneer was to
be his rule in life, for between its covers there lay the seed of all
that was good, and the gentle spirit of one, who though dead would live
for ever. The precious gift was handed over to the safe custody of the
Buccaneer's church, and the old saint with much sorrow and ceremony was
laid in his narrow cell, to await there the sound of the last trump.




CHAPTER III.


The days of mourning were barely over when difficulties arose. The faith
left behind by the old saint was extremely good, and even beautiful, but
it was not at all adapted to one who occasionally robbed a neighbour's
hen-roost. Indeed, it was not at all fitted for one who followed the
profession of a bold Buccaneer. It was a trifle hard to sell all that he
had and give it to the poor, who might be a lazy lot of skulking
rascals. Then who could expect to get on in this world, if, when one
cheek was struck he turned the other? Beautiful, yes, but not practical.
If our fighting Buccaneer did this sort of thing, every daw from the
mainland would invade the nest of the eagle, and peck him to death, and
suck his eggs.

Then the command not to lay up riches upon earth; and to live in peace
and charity with all men. This was all very well, but then when you are
surrounded by a lot of people, who will not live up to these fine
sentiments, what is a poor fellow to do?

The Buccaneer had a coxswain, who was his right-hand man, and whose name
was Jack Commonsense. He took him into his confidence. Old Jack
scratched his head, which was a sure sign that he was in trouble, and he
told his master that he did not see any way out of the difficulty, for,
if they sailed by the instruction as laid down in the Book the saint had
left behind, they had better give up the buccaneering business at once,
and try something else. The end of the matter was, that it was handed
over to the Buccaneer's Church to settle, for, as he said in his quaint
sea-faring language, it's no use keeping a dog if you have to bark
yourself. To his clergy he deputed the by no means easy task of shaping
a course in accordance with his book, the Bible, and at the same time
not altogether antagonistic to his worldly interests. In fact, some kind
of a compromise had to be made.

Obedient to the command of their earthly master, the most learned of the
Buccaneer's divines assembled together in solemn conclave, and having
opened the proceedings with prayer, they fell to arguing upon the grave
questions before them. The Scriptures were searched, and very much
learning and piety were displayed, and very much heat, with a little
temper, was introduced; but there seemed to be little probability of
their coming to a satisfactory conclusion. Some said the word must be
adhered to, others said that the word killed, and that it was the spirit
that must be taken into consideration.

After very much argument, which at times cleft asunder the matter in
dispute, thereby forming schism and even sects, a satisfactory
conclusion was arrived at, and the foundation was laid of an edifice,
which in time was to grow into most beautiful proportions. The
foundation rested upon the Book, and the corner stones were those which
Christ had laid in Galilee. The superstructure was built to a large
extent by human hands, and of earthly material. Still it was a noble
edifice, and thus the Buccaneer had manufactured for him a good everyday
religion, somewhat worldly perhaps, but eminently suited to his mode of
life.

There were slight incongruities, but it mattered little to the subject
of our history, and we may presume that he did not see them; or if he
did he did not notice them, which answers the same purpose. Such things
are at all times more apparent to other people than to those especially
interested. Besides, any little shortcomings on the part of the
Buccaneer were amply made amends for by his solicitude for the religious
welfare of others, whose eternal happiness seemed indeed to be more to
him than his own. Wherever he went he took with him his Bible, and as he
had not been able to swallow it wholesale himself, he soothed his
conscience by thrusting it down the throats of other people. If they
would not take it quietly, then he would help them over their difficulty
with the point of his sword. It was a principle of his that if people
would not go to Heaven, that they must be made to go there, and
accordingly he sent a good many to the other world very much against
their will, and very much before their time.

This bold Buccaneer was perhaps originally intended for a Mahommedan,
but being spoilt in the making he became an indifferent Christian. Tell
him this, and it would be wise to clear out at once, and make tracks for
the remotest part of the world.

As a matter of course he must follow the example of all other Christian
people, and enroll himself under the protection of some saint. Now,
whether it was by chance, or whether he was possessed with a grim kind
of humour, it would be impossible to say. Indeed, he may have had a
genuine admiration for the man. The fact remains that he chose as his
patron George of Capadocia, who seems to have done a very good business
in the way of bacon. It is at all times a difficult matter to form a
true estimate of a character far back in history; but it is probable
that the whole saintly calendar does not contain a more disreputable
blackguard than this self-same George; but he is now a saint "de mortuis
etc.;" the bold Buccaneer having now had a good serviceable religion
manufactured for him, and having also been fitted out with a good
elastic and easily worked conscience, he was himself again. Away the
merry rover went, cracking a head here and a crib there, and returning
home with whatever happened to fall in his way.




CHAPTER IV.


All the Buccaneer's neighbours had adopted some characteristic emblem or
device with an appropriate motto. No people, of any degree of
self-respect, can get on without such things. The device generally takes
the form of some beast or bird of prey--eagles and vultures being
greatly favoured. The bold Buccaneer with a characteristic modesty
adopted the lion as his emblem, and as his motto "God and my Right." It
is wonderful how he made both ends of his motto meet to his own great
advantage. These two principles seldom seemed to clash, and if they did,
he generally overcame the difficulty in a most satisfactory manner. This
perhaps was the effect of his having a good conscience.

Now the lion is a noble-looking animal. His appearance is ferocious,
while his roar is terrifying in the extreme. Those who have watched, and
studied his habits, say that in spite of all this, he is about as mean a
beast as ever stole a meal or entered upon an unequal fight, being ever
ready to rob and plunder the weaker inhabitants of the jungle. Of
course, the animal had his good points; all animals have, and, no doubt,
it was these that attracted the Buccaneer's attention. How delighted he
was when his lion's roar frightened any one of his neighbours! What
pleasure too it gave him when he put out his large paw and snatched a
handful of feathers out of any of their birds! But then what a terrible
screeching there was, and very often a fight.

Not to be behind his neighbour in anything, he created high sounding
titles, and honourable distinctions, to reward those of his sons who did
well in the buccaneering trade. Then to support the weight of their
newly acquired dignity, he either allowed them to levy blackmail on whom
they could, or he sent round the hat amongst his own people. This hat
was with him a cherished institution, and was used on all kinds of
occasions. It was hung up in all his churches, but taken down and sent
round after every service. Of such importance was it that it must be
deemed to be worthy at all times of a capital to begin with. For length
of titles he could not approach many of his neighbours, who frequently
found consolation for empty pockets, ruined castles, and extreme poverty
in a long string of names.

The bold Buccaneer grew in strength, in riches, and in righteousness
also. His family increased and multiplied as all good people's families
should; but still he fought, and for the most part conquered. This
proved to his own satisfaction that God was generally on his side. When
the enemy was handed over to him he despoiled him, thus following the
example set him by most other peoples and nations, in olden times and in
new. It is a good thing to pluck a beaten adversary well, lest he flies
again too soon, and sticks either his beak, or his claws into you. Do
not believe him if he says he will not do it. To his beaten foe the
Buccaneer was kind, for he gave to him spiritual consolation; giving his
Bible and selling him his strong and intoxicating drinks. He fully
believed that those who did not live up to the teaching of his book
would be eternally damned, though he did not at all times show a
disposition to live up to it himself, it being very much too
inconvenient to do so. There was occasionally such a difference between
his preaching, and his practice, that his neighbours wondered whether he
was a knave or a hypocrite, or a good honest gentleman who saw no
incongruity in his line of action.

Sometimes in his encounters with his enemies he came off second best, as
the saying is. Then there was nothing he was so sure of as that the
devil was fighting against him. It was his custom then to look about for
a scapegoat, and if he found one he sacrificed him to appease the Divine
anger. Then having bound up his broken head and dressed his wounds, he
took down his book, read a chapter or two, said his prayers, and then
waited until the Lord handed his enemy over to him. Then he quickly
wiped off old scores, adding or taking something, by way of interest.
Thus he became very much respected by all who knew him. As he
prospered, so did his church, for he was very generous as most sailors
are. Whatever the edifice was within, it was beautiful without, and had
a complete organisation. The High Priest, not Caiaphas, stood at the
head of all things, and he was the keeper of the Buccaneer's conscience.
It was the duty of the High Priest to keep all his subordinates in
order. This was a task which at times he could not perform, for the
members of the ecclesiastical body showed themselves to be true chips of
the Buccaneer block, and though essentially men of peace, they proved
themselves at times to be equally men of war. His priests being the
keepers of his conscience, frequently took upon themselves to lecture
him; not hesitating even to tell him of his transgressions. Having
brought the ardent old sinner upon his knees, and prescribed for him
prayers, mortifications, and fastings; having also bled him, they
cleaned and repaired his conscience and sent him on his way again. Thus
did the priesthood grow in power and in self-respect.

Comparisons, it is said, are odious; but they are necessary at times,
and if we compare our friend with any one of his neighbours, we find him
not a bit worse; he himself thinking, indeed, that he was infinitely
better. To exterminate the heathen, or to bring them over from their
evil ways, and to burn all heretics was at one time the pious object of
his life. The weak, too, had to be protected, and those who cannot take
care of themselves ought, at all times, to be extremely obliged to those
who will do it for them, and of course they must expect to pay. Then the
evil doer had to be punished and fined, and the pride of the arrogant
and haughty had to be humbled, and surplus populations had to be worked
off, and anybody undertaking these very disagreeable, though necessary
duties, is deserving of the thanks of those who have neither the taste,
nor the leisure for the occupation. There is nothing strange in all
this. Did not Moses sit upon the hilltop with Aaron on one side and Hur
on the other, and while these two held up his hands did he not look with
satisfaction upon Joshua discomfiting the Amalekites? and very well
Joshua seems to have done his work.

Who then will blame the Buccaneer? As in Joshua's day, so now such
things are necessary. And if the Buccaneer did burn a heretic or two,
what then? He was strictly impartial. To-day it was what was called a
Holy Roman that he fried, to-morrow he varied the bill of fare by
roasting a Protestant. That was in his early days.

Our Buccaneer was essentially a fighting man, and though the Book he
swore by preached peace on earth and good will towards men, his habit
was to mix himself up--in early times at least--in every pot-house brawl
that he could, and a cracked head was to him an honourable distinction.
He as often as not took the wrong side, and he was frequently found
fighting in very queer company; but to his honour it must be said that
the weakness of a neighbour, who was put upon, was more to him than any
abstract principle of right or wrong, and though he was not above
pitching into a fellow smaller than himself, he would not allow anyone
else to indulge in the luxury if he could help it.

The ill-natured--those who are for ever ready to find out spots and
blemishes in other people, to the utter neglect of their own, said all
kinds of things. Called him a hard fighting, hard drinking, and hard
swearing Christian. He did swear; it was a bad habit, no doubt; but then
his climate was enough to make any man swear, and drink into the
bargain. He had his failings, and he did not mind being told of them,
and he would sit patiently in church, whilst his priests thundered at
him from their many pulpits. He took it all in; said his prayers
devoutly, and when the inevitable Hat came round, he gave liberally.
Perhaps he experienced some slight regret on such occasions that some of
his wicked neighbours were not present to partake of the spiritual food
that was thus given freely. He felt sure it would have hit some of them
very hard. It might perhaps have made them mend their ways, though, as
it did not seem to have a permanent effect upon the Buccaneer himself,
there may be a doubt upon the subject. It is said that eels get
accustomed to skinning.

In passing it may be mentioned that his women--at least in early
times--were honest, virtuous, brave and true, and in every way fitting
mothers for a race of warriors. It may be presumed that they had their
faults. Indeed, some of his laws and customs would lead us to believe
that such was the case. For instance, it was laid down as a rule that no
husband should beat his wife with a stick of greater diameter than one
inch. There was very great humanity here. Scolds he sometimes ducked. If
that did not stop the rancour of their tongues he tried the effect of an
instrument called the "branks." This fitted over the head something like
a dog-muzzle, and was fastened behind with a padlock, while an iron
plate rested upon the tongue, and kept it quiet. This was found to be
effective.

Judging from our present high state of civilization when women are
allowed full liberty of speech, these early habits and customs of the
Buccaneer will not bear looking into. Occasionally in later times some
one of his sons, not conspicuous for chivalry, knocked down his wife, or
his mother-in-law, and then jumped upon her; but as a general rule his
manners were very much softened, and his women were treated with very
great indulgence. Perhaps those who suffered were deserving people. If,
in his ruder age, the women did not love their lords and masters, they
at least respected them, and this feeling in the long-run brings the
most happiness. In his latter days a deep suit of mourning, with much
crape, and a becoming widow's cap, often covered a joyous heart, and a
fresh campaign was commenced. But what is love? You have it; you have it
not. It is sometimes near, then again it is obscured by distance. It
wanders about like a sweet and gentle spirit above the earth; soaring
sometimes with outstretched wings to heaven. It seems brightest when
afar. Touch it, and it will shrink and fade like the delicate petals of
a flower. It often haunts a grave-yard and makes a home amongst the
tombs. You fly from it, and it follows; you turn and chase it and it
flies. What is love? It is a veritable Will o' the Wisp.




CHAPTER V.


Honour to whom honour is due. In speaking of the Buccaneer and in
briefly sketching his early life, it would not be right to pass by,
without some slight comment, a people who occupied an island situated
not many miles from his shores. They were called the Ojabberaways. They
came of a spirited and highly sensitive race. They were imaginative in
the extreme, quick of temper, and very prone to insult. The smallest
slight they would look upon as a grave injury. They were also a
quick-witted, clever, and merry people, and fighting was the joy of
their life. They were not total abstainers.

Somehow the Ojabberaways and the Buccaneer, though near neighbours, did
not get on very well together. This often happens, more especially
amongst relations, but the Ojabberaways would not admit that they were
of the same blood as the Buccaneer. They maintained that they came from
a far nobler stock. In fact, it would appear from what the people
themselves said, though history is silent upon the subject, that the
island was at one time inhabited by one or two kings, who left a progeny
sufficient to people the whole place, and that consequently, every
Ojabberaway had royal blood in his veins. No wonder then that they were
high-spirited and proud. Now they looked upon the bold Buccaneer as a
tyrant, whose chief aim in life was to tread under foot, and otherwise
insult them. Nothing would induce them to believe the contrary. They
sucked it in at their mother's breasts. The origin of their name is
wrapped in mystery, but it is probable that it had, in some way, a
connection with the chief produce of their country.

The Ojabberaways were not a united people. Though for the most part they
were inimical to the rule of the Buccaneer, and groaned under what they
considered the chain cast upon them by an alien and an oppressor, there
were many who were comfortable and even happy and contented under his
rule. Between these two sections of the Ojabberaways there was no love
lost. The wild Ojabberaways as they were sometimes called--of course
behind their backs--looked with peculiar hatred upon what were called
the loyal Ojabberaways. Speaking of the people generally it may be said,
that when you came across one who was a thorough gentleman, no finer
specimen of the class could be found in the world; but nature is not at
all times prodigal. There are some flowers that only bloom once in a
hundred years.

For the ordinary occupation of life the people had little or no taste,
and in his own country, if you found one Ojabberaway working, you would
always find two at least indulging in the luxury of looking on. And at
all times an Ojabberaway would give over any labour in which he might be
occupied, to follow a fellow-countryman to his grave, to whom in life he
would not have lent a single sixpence. This respect for the dead is
touching; but the Ojabberaways were a sentimental nation.

They were also a peculiarly constituted people, generous to a fault as
long as they had anything to give; but they, for the most part, lived
beyond their means, for a man with a thousand a year would generally
spend two, and this in time brought them into the usurer's hands and
into difficulties. Then some one had to suffer, and it was generally the
tenant of the land and the peasant. The usurer at all times drives a
hard bargain, and what bowels he has are not those of compassion. What
is in his bond he takes care to have. This gave an opening to the
agitator, and he took advantage of the state of things to stir up
strife.

Then the Ojabberaways had peculiarly formed eyes. To the outward
appearance just like other peoples; but inwardly quite differently
constructed. An object that would appear to an ordinary individual in
one light would impinge upon the retina of an Ojabberaway's eye in such
a manner as to distort some things and magnify others; but most of all a
grievance. On the other hand an obligation would appear as small as if
it were looked at