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
homoeopath, 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.