CHAPTER XV.
Friend to the sea, and foeman sworn To all that on her waves are borne, When falls a mate in battle broil His comrade heirs his portioned spoil-- Chalice and plate from churches borne, And gems from shrieking beauty torn, Each string of pearl, each silver bar, And all the wealth of western war.
ROKEBY.
As the Skipper strode towards the town, his dogged air and loweringbrow evinced the disquiet of his spirit at what had just occurred. Hewas nettled by the maiden's rejection of his proffered gift, and astill deeper feeling of resentment agitated his mind against theSecretary. Far other man was he than he was deemed by the burghers ofSt. Mary's. In truth, they knew but little more of him than might begained from his few occasional visits to the port in a calling which,as it brought him a fair harvest of profit, laid him under a necessityto cultivate, for the nonce, the good opinion of his customers by suchaddress as he was master of.
Cocklescraft belonged to that tribe of desperate men, until near thisperiod in the full career of their bloody successes, known as "TheBrethren of the Coast." His first breath was drawn upon the billows ofthe ocean, and his infancy was nursed in the haunts of the buccaneers,amongst the Keys of the Bahamas. When but a lad, attending upon thesewild hordes in their expeditions against the commerce of the Gulf, hechanced to attract the notice of the famous Captain Morgan, whilst thatmost rapacious of all the pirate leaders was preparing, at Jamaica, forhis incursion against Maracaibo. The freebooter was charmed with theprecocious relish for rapine conspicuous in the character of the boy;and, with an affectionate interest, took him under his tutelage,assigning to him a post near his person, rather of pageantry thanservice--that of a page or armour-bearer, according to the yetlingering forms of chivalry. The incredible bravery of the buccaneersin this exploit, and their detestable cruelties were witnessed by thiscallow imp of the sea, with a delight and a shrewdness of apprehensionwhich gave to his youthful nature the full benefit of the lesson. Hewas scarce two years older when, in the due succession of his hopefulexperience, he again attended his patron upon that unmatched adventureof plunder and outrage, the leaguer of Panama; and it was remarked thatamidst the perils of the cruise upon the Costa Rica, the toils of theinland march over moor and mountain, and the desperate hazards of thestorming of the city, the page, graceful and active as the minion of alady's bower, and fierce as a young sea-wolf, was seen every where,like an elvish sprite, tracking the footsteps of his ruthless master.The history of human wickedness has not a more appalling chapter thanthat which records the fate of the wretched inhabitants of Panama inthis assault; and yet, in the midst of its shocking enormities, the gayand tasseled familiar of the ruffian pirate chief tripped daintilythrough the carnage, with the light step of a reveller, and pursued theflying virgins and affrighted matrons, from house to house, as theflames enveloped their roof trees, with the mockery and prankishness ofan actor in a masquerade. This expedition terminated not without addinganother item to the experience of the young free-booter--the only one,perhaps, yet wanting to his perfect accomplishment. The Welsh Captain,laden with spoils of untold value, played false to his comrades, bystealing off with the lion's share of the booty; thus, by a gainful actof perfidy, inculcating upon the eager susceptibility of the page animposing moral, of which it may be supposed he would not be slow toprofit.
Such was the school in which Cocklescraft received the rudiments of hiseducation. These harsher traits of his character, however, it is butjustice to say, were, in some degree, mitigated by a tolerably fairamount of scholastic accomplishment, picked up in the intervals of hisbusy life amongst the scant teaching afforded by the islands, of whichthe protection and care of his patron enabled him to profit. To thiswas added no mean skill in music, dancing, and the use of his weapon;whilst a certain enthusiasm of temperament stimulated his courage andeven whetted the fierceness of his nature.
Morgan, having run his career, returned to England, a man of wealth,and was knighted by the monarch, in one of those profligate revels bywhich Charles disgraced his kingly state; the page was, in consequence,turned adrift upon the world, as it is usual to say of heroes, "with nofortune but his talents, and no friend but his sword." Riot soonexhausted his stock of plunder, and the prodigal licentiousness of "TheBrethren of the Coast," forbade the gathering of a future hoard. Aboutthis date the European powers began to deal more resolutely with thebanditti of the islands, and their trade consequently became moreprecarious. They were compelled, in pursuit of new fields for robbery,to cross the isthmus and try their fortunes on the coast of thePacific--whither Cocklescraft followed and reaped his harvest in theravage of Peru: but in turn, the Brethren found themselves tracked intothese remoter seas, and our adventurer was fain, with many of hiscomrades, to find his way back to the coves and secret harbours ofTortuga and the Keys, whence he contrived to eke out a scantsubsistence, by an occasional stoop upon such defenceless wanderers ofthe ocean as chance threw within his grasp. The Olive Branch was abeautiful light vessel, which, in one of his sea-forays, he had wrestedfrom a luckless merchant; and this acquisition suggested to him thethought that, with such necessary alterations as should disguise herfigure and equipment, he might drive a more secure, and, perchance,more profitable trade between the Atlantic colonies and the oldcountries; so, with a mongrel crew of trusty cutthroats, carefullyselected from the companions of his former fortunes, and a secretarmament well bestowed for sudden emergency, he set himself up for anoccasional trader between the Chesapeake and the coast of Holland. Alucky acquaintance with the Cripple of St. Jerome's gave him a usefulally in his vocation as a smuggler; the fisherman's hut, long believedto be the haunt of evil spirits, admirably favoured his design, andunder the management of Rob, soon became a spot of peculiar desecrationin popular report; and thus, in no long space of time, the gay,swashing cavalier, master of the Olive Branch, began to find goodaccount in his change of character from the Flibustier of the Keys intothat of smuggler and trader of the Chesapeake. He had now made severalvoyages from St. Mary's to the various marts of Holland and England,taking out cargoes of tobacco and bringing back such merchandise as waslikely to find a ready sale in the colonies. His absence from port wasoften mysteriously prolonged, and on his return it not unfrequentlyhappened that there were found amongst his cargo commodities such asmight scarce be conjectured to have been brought from the ports ofEurope,--consisting some times of tropical fruits, ingots of gold andsilver, and sundry rich furniture of Indian aspect, better fitted forthe cabinet of the virtuoso than the trade of a new province. Then,also, there were occasionally costly stuffs, and tissues of exceedingrichness, such as cloth of gold, velvets of Genoa, arras tapestry, andeven pictures which might have hung in churches. These commodities wereinvariably landed at St. Jerome's Bay before the Olive Branch cast heranchor in the harbour of St. Mary's, and were reshipped on the outwardvoyage. The Cripple of St. Jerome's had a few customers who wereprivileged at certain periods to traffic with him in a species ofmerchandise of which he was seldom without a supply at hiscommand--chiefly wines and strong waters, and coarser household goods,which were charily exhibited in small parcels at the hut, and when thebargain was made, supplied in greater bulk by unseen hands from secretmagazines, concerning which the customer was not so rash as even toinquire--for Rob was a man who, the country people most devoutlybelieved, had immediate commerce with the Evil One, and who, it wasknown, would use his dagger before he gave warning by words.
The open and lawful dealing of the Skipper, in the port of St. Mary's,had brought him into an acquaintance with most of the inhabitants, andas his arrival was always a subject of agreeable expectation, he was,by a natural consequence, looked upon with a friendly regard. Hisaddress, gaiety of demeanour, and fine figure--which last wasstudiously set off to great advantage by a rich and gracefulcostume--heightened this sentiment of personal favour, and gave himprivileges in the society of the town which, in that age of scrupulousregard to rank, would have been denied him if he had been a
constantsojourner. Emboldened by this reception he had essayed to offer somegallant civilities to the maiden of the Rose Croft, which wereinstantly repelled, however, by the most formal coldness. The Skipperwas not so practised an observer as to perceive in this repugnance, theactual aversion which the maiden felt against his advances toacquaintance; and he was content to account it a merely girlish reservewhich importunity and assiduous devotion might overcome. His vanitysuggested the resolve to conquer the damsel's indifference; and as thatthought grew upon his fancy, it, by degrees, ripened into a settledpurpose, which in the end completely engrossed his mind. As he broodedover the subject, and permitted his imagination to linger around thatform of beauty and loveliness,--cherished as it was, during the longweeks of his lonely tracking of the sea, and in the solitary musingsand silent night-watches of his deck,--a romantic ardour was kindled inhis breast, and he hastened back to the Port of St. Mary's, strangelywrought upon by new impulses, which seemed to have humanized andmellowed even his rude nature: the shrewder observers were aware ofmore gentleness in his bearing, though they found him more wayward inhis temper;--he was prouder of heart, yet with humbler speech, andoften more stern than before. The awakening of a new passion hadovermastered both the ferocity and the levity of his character. He was,in truth, the undivulged, anxious, and almost worshipping lover ofBlanche Warden.
When such a nature as I have described chances to fall into the lovingvein, it will be admitted to be a somewhat fearful category both forthe lady and the lover's rival. Such men are not apt to mince mattersin the course of their wooing.
This was the person who now plied his way towards the port, in solitaryrumination over two distinct topics of private grief, each of a natureto rouse the angry devil of his bosom. He could not but see that hisfirst approach towards the favour of his mistress had been promptlyrepelled. That alone would have filled his mind with bitterness, andgiven a harsh complexion to his thoughts;--but this cause of complaintwas almost stifled by the more engrossing sentiment of hostilityagainst the Secretary. That he should have been rebuked for hisbehaviour, by a man,--and a man, too, who evidently stood well with thelady of his love; taken to task and chid in the very presence of hismistress,--was an offence that called immediately to his manhood anddemanded redress. Such redress was more to his hand than the nicersubtleties of weighing the maiden's displeasure, and he turned to itwith a natural alacrity, as to a comfort in his perplexity. It is theinstinct of a rude nature to refer all cases of wounded sensibility tothe relief of battle. A rejected lover, like a child who has lost atoy, finds consolation in his distress by fighting any one that he canpersuade himself has stood in his way, and he is made happy when therechances to be some plausible ground for such a proceeding. The Skipperthought the subject over in every aspect which his offended pride couldfancy. At one moment the idea of quarrel with the Secretary pleasedhim, and almost reconciled him to the maiden's coldness; at the next hedoubted whether, after all, she had in fact designed to repel hisfriendship. He vibrated between these considerations for a space insilence: his pride quelled the expression of his anger. But by degreeshis quickened pace and sturdier step, and, now and then, that slightshake of the head by which men sometimes express determination, made itplain that the fiery element in his bosom was rising in tumult. Atlength, unable to suppress his feeling, the inward commotion foundutterance in words.
"Who and what is this Master Secretary that hath set the maiden of theRose Croft to look upon me with an evil spirit? I would fain know if hethink himself a properer man than I. Doth he stand upon his fingeringof a lute, and his skill to dance?--Why even in this chamber-craft Iwill put it to a wager he is no master of mine. Is he more personablein shape or figure?--goes he in better apparel? or is that brokenEnglish of his more natural to the province than my plain speech, thathe should claim the right to chide me for my behaviour? Is it that hehath a place in the train of his Lordship? Have not I served as near toa belted knight--lord of a thousand stout hearts and master of a fleetof thirty sail?--ay, and in straits where you should as soon expect tomeet a hare as that crotchet-monger. A bookish clerk with no manlycalling that should soil his ruff in the space of a moon! By SaintIago, but I will put him to his books to learn how he shall heal thestroke of a choleric hand, when the time shall serve to give him thetaste of it!--Mistress Blanche would not be importuned--indeed! And hemust be my tutor to teach me what pleaseth Mistress Blanche. Helied--the maiden did not mislike my question;--she but hung her head tohave it so openly spoken. I know she doth not set at naught my favours,but as damsels from custom do a too public tender of a token. OldAnthony Warden counts his friends by their manhood, and he hath shownme grace:--his daughter in the end will follow his likings--and as thefather's choice approves, so will hers incline. Am I less worthy in oldMaster Warden's eyes, than yonder parchment bearer--that pen-and-inkslave of his Lordship's occasions?--he that durst not raise his eyeabove his Lord's shoe, nor speak out of a whisper when his betters arein presence? What is he, to put me from the following of my own willwhen it pleases me to speak to any maiden of this province?--I am ofthe sea--the broad, deep sea! she hath nursed me in her bosom,--andhath given me my birth-right to be as proudly borne as the honours ofany lord of the land. I have a brave deck for my foot, a good blade formy belt, the bountiful ocean before me and a score of merry men at myback. Are these conditions so mean that I must brook the Secretary'sdispleasure or fashion my speech to suit his liking?--We shallunderstand each other better, in good time, or I shall lack opportunityto speak my mind:--I shall, good Master Verheyden,--you have the wordof a 'Brother of the Bloody Coast' for that!"
Before the Skipper had ceased this petulant and resentfulself-communion, he found himself in the neighbourhood of the CatholicChapel, nearly in front of the dwelling of father Pierre, when the goodpriest, who was at this moment returning from noon-day service, tookhim at unawares with the salutation,--
"Peace be with you, son!--you reckon up the sum of your ventures with acareful brow, and speak loud enough to make the town acquainted withthy gains, if perchance some of the chapmen with whom thou hast dealingshould be in thy path. How fares it with thee, Master Skipper?"
"Ha, Mi Padre!" exclaimed Cocklescraft, instantly throwing aside hisgraver thoughts and assuming a jocular tone. "Well met;--I was on myway to visit you: that would I have done yesterday upon my arrival, butthat the press of my business would not allow it. You grow old, father,so evenly that, although I see you but after long partings, I can countno fresh touch of time upon your head."
"Men of your calling should not flatter," said the priest smiling."What news do you bring us from the old world?"
"Oh, much and merry, father Pierre. The old world plies her old tradeand thrives by it. Knavery hath got somewhat of the upper hand sincethey have quit crossing swords in this new piece of Nimeguen. The HoganMogans are looking a little surly at the Frenchman for cocking hisbeaver so bravely; and our jobbernowl English, now that they can findno more reason to throttle each other, have gone back to their oldsport of pricking the side of our poor church. You shall find as manyplots in London, made out of hand and ready for use in one month, aswould serve all the stage plays of the kingdom for the next hundredyears--and every plot shall have a vile Papist at the bottom of it,--ifyou may believe Oates and Bedloe. I was there when my Lord Stafford wasmade a head shorter on Tower Hill. You heard of this,--father?"
"Alack! in sorrow we heard of this violence," replied the priest, "anddeeply did it grieve my Lord to lose so good a friend. Even as you havefound it in England, so is it here. The discontents against the holychurch are nursed by many who seek thereby to command the province. Wehave plotters here who do not scruple to contrive against the life ofhis Lordship and his Lordship's brother the Chancellor. Besides, thegovernment at home is unfriendly to us."
"You have late news from England?" inquired the Skipper.
"We have,--and which, but that you are true in your creed, I mightscarce mention to your ear--the royal order ha
s come to my Lord todismiss his Catholic servants from office--every one. His Lordshipscruples to obey. This, Master Skipper, I confide to you in private, asnot to be told again."
"To remove all!" said Cocklescraft. "Why it will sweep off his nearestfriends--Anthony Warden and all."
"Even so."
"There is fighting matter in that, upon the spot," exclaimed theSkipper. "By St. Sebastian, I hope it may come up while I am in port!The Collector, old as he is, will buckle on his toledo in that quarrel.He has mettle for it; and I could wish no better play than to stand byhis side. Who is this Secretary of my Lord's private chamber? I met himat the Collector's to-day."
"Master Albert Verheyden," replied the priest.
"I know his name--they told it to me there--but his quality andcondition, father?"
"You may be proud of his fellowship," said father Pierre; "he was oncea scholar of the Jesuit school at Antwerp, of the class inscribed'Princeps Diligentiae,' and brought thence by my Lord. A youth, MasterCocklescraft, of promise and discretion--a model to such as would learngood manners and cherish virtuous inclinations. You may scarcely failto see him at the Collector's: the townspeople do say he has an eyesomewhat dazzled there."
"Craving pardon for my freedom, I say, father Pierre, a fig's end forsuch a model!" exclaimed the Skipper, pettishly: "you may have such bythe score, wherever lazy, bookish men eat their bread. I like him not,with his laced band and feather, his book and lute: harquebuss andwhinyard are the tools for these days. I hear the Fendalls have been atmischief again. We shall come to bilbo and buff before long. YourSecretary will do marvellous service in these straits, father."
"Son, you are somewhat sinful in your scorn," said the priest, mildly;"the Secretary doth not deserve this taunt----"
"By the holy hermits, father, I speak of the Secretary but as I think.He does not awe me with his greatness. I vail no topsail to him, I giveyou my word for it."
"The saints preserve us from harm!" said the churchman. "We know notwhat may befall us from the might of our enemies, when this hot bloodshall sunder our friends. In sober counsel, son, and not in rashdivisions shall we find our safety. It doth not become thee, MasterCocklescraft, to let thy tetchy humour rouse thee against theSecretary. It might warrant my displeasure."
"Mea culpa, holy father--I do confess my fault," said the seaman, in atone of assumed self-constraint--"I will not again offend; and for mypresent atonement will offer a censer of pure silver, which in mytravels I picked up, and in truth did then design to give, to theChapel of St. Mary's. I will bring it to the chapel, father Pierre, assoon as my vessel is unladen."
"You should offer up your anger too, to make this gift acceptable,"returned the priest. "Let thy dedication be with a cleansed heart."
"Ha, father Pierre," said the Skipper, jocularly; "my conscience doeseasily cast off a burden: so it shall be as you command. I did not tellyou that whilst my brigantine lay in the Helder, I made a land flightto Louvaine, where a certain Abbot of Andoyne,--a pious, somewhat aged,and, thanks to a wholesome refectory! a good jolly priest,--hearing Icame from the province, must needs send for me to ask if I knew fatherPierre de la Maise, and upon my answer, that I did right well, he begsme to bring his remembrance back to you."
"I knew father Gervase," replied the priest with a countenance full ofbenignity--"some forty years ago, when he was a reader in the Chair ofSt. Isidore at Rome. He remembers me?--a blessing on his head!--and hewears well, Master Skipper?"
"Quite as well as yourself," replied Cocklescraft. "Father, a cup ofyour cool water, and I will depart," he said, as he helped himself tothe draught. "I will take heed to what you have said touching the royalorder--and by St. Iago, I will be a friend in need to the Collector.Master Verheyden shall not be a better one. Now fare thee well, father.Peregrine Cadger shall have order to cut you off a cassock from thebest cloth I have brought him, and little Abbot the tailor shall put itin fashion for you."
"You are lavish of your bounties, son," replied the priest, takingCocklescraft by both hands as he was now about to withdraw. "You have apoor churchman's thanks. It gives me comfort to be so considered, and Iprize your kindness more than the cassock. A blessing on thy ways,Master Cocklescraft!"
The Skipper once more set forth on his way towards the port; and with atemper somewhat allayed by the acting of the scene I have justdescribed, though with no abatement of the resentment which rankled atthe bottom of his heart, even under the smiling face and gay outsidewhich he could assume with the skill of a consummate dissembler, hesoon reached the Crow and Archer. From thence he meditated, as soon ashis occasions would permit, a visit to the Cripple of St. Jerome's.
Rob of the Bowl: A Legend of St. Inigoe's. Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 15
