/vr£W YOftK } 
 
 
 
 v ^\\\m\\^^ 
 
 ^WV\ 
 
e ‘ Castoria is so wtli adapted to chil¬ 
 dren that I recommend it as superior to 
 any prescription known to me. 
 
 H. A. Archer, M, D. t 
 hi So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 “ The use of Castoria is so universal 
 and its merits so well known that it 
 seems a work of supererogation to en¬ 
 dorse it. Few are the intelligent fami¬ 
 lies who do not keep CASTORIA within 
 easy reach.” Carlos Martyn, D.D., 
 New York City. 
 
 Late Pastor Bloomingdale Reformed 
 Church. 
 
 Castoria cures Colic, Constipation, 
 Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, Eructation, 
 Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promotes 
 digestion. 
 
 Without injurious medication. 
 
 u 
 
 “ For several years I have recommen¬ 
 ded your Castoria, a.id shall always 
 continue to do so as it has invariably- 
 produced beneficial results.” 
 
 Edwin F. Pardee, M. D., 
 “The Winthrop,” 125th Street and 7th 
 Ave., New York City. 
 
 Murray Street, New York. 
 
 The Centaur Co., 77 
 
 CD 
 
 ■J 
 
 ftjj 
 
 American Authors’, International, Westminster, 
 American Novelists’, Foreign, Political andScientific 
 Leather Clad, Detective, Occult, Illustrated, 
 
 Seaside library. 
 
 o 
 
 Comprising the largest collection of popular works of Fiction, 
 History and Literature, both new and Standard, ever published. 
 
 UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY, 
 
 PUBLISHERS, HEW YORK,_ 
 
 JAMES McCREERY & CO., 
 
 Broadway and 11th St., 
 
 New York. 
 
 SILKS, SATINS, VELVETS. 
 
 The assortment of Plain Black Silk Fabrics 
 alone contains over 275 different weaves and 
 qualities; of Fancy Blacks there are about 
 200 . 
 
 Send for samples of quality and style 
 desired. 
 
 SERIES 
 
LADIES! 
 
 If you appreciate a Corset that will neither break down nor roll up in wear, 
 
 TRY BALL’S CORSETS. 
 
 If you value health and comfort, 
 
 WEAR BALL’S CORSETS. 
 
 If you desire a Corset that fits the first day you wear it, and needs no 
 “breaking in,” 
 
 BUY BALE’S CORSETS. 
 
 If you desire a Corset that yields with every motion of the body, 
 EXAMINE BABE’S CORSETS. 
 
 If you want a perfect fit and support without compression, 
 
 USE BALE’S CORSETS. 
 
 Owing to their peculiar construction it is impossible to break steels in 
 Ball’s Corsets. 
 
 The Elastic Sections in Ball’s Corsets contain no rubber, and are warranted 
 to out-wear the Corset. 
 
 Every pair sold with the following guarantee: 
 
 “If not perfectly satisfactory in evei*y respect after three weeks’ 
 trial, the money paid for them will be refunded (by the dealer), 
 
 Soiled or Unsoiled.” 
 
 The wonderful popularity of Ball’s Corsets has induced rival manu* 
 facturers to imitate them. If you want a Corset that will give perfect satis¬ 
 faction, insist on purchasing one marked, 
 
 Patented Feb. 22, 1881 . 
 
 And see that the name BALE is on the box; also Guarantee of the 
 
 Chicago Corset Co. 
 
 AWARDED HIGHEST PRIZES WHEREVER EXHIBITED. 
 
 For Sale l>y all Leading Dry Goods I>ealers in tlie 
 United States, Canada and England. 
 
MUNRO’S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 The Heiress of Hilldrop; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A YOUNG GIRL 
 
 By CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME, 
 
 Author of “ Dora Thorne.'" 
 
 Complete in Seaside Library (Pocket Edition), No. 741. 
 
 PRINTED IN LARGE, BOLD, HANDSOME TYPE. 
 
 PRICK 20 CENTS. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent to any address, postage pre¬ 
 paid, on receipt of the price, 20 cents. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, Munro’s Publishing House, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. 
 
 SEASIDE LIBRARY (POCKET EDITION), NO. 711. 
 
 0 
 
 A CARDINAL SIN. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY HUGH CONWAY, 
 
 Author of “ Called Back.” 
 
 PRINTED IN LARGE, BOLD, HANDSOME TYPE. 
 
 PRICE 20 CENTS. 
 
 For sale by all newsdealers, or sent to any address, postage 
 prepaid, on receipt of the price, 20 cents. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, Munko’s Publishing House, 
 
 P. 0. Box.3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. 
 
THE STRANGE ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS, 
 
 0 
 
 WHO WAS 
 
 A SOLDIER, A PIRATE, A MERCHANT, A SPY, A SLAVE AMONG 
 THE MOORS, A BASHAW IN THE SERVICE OF THE GREAT 
 TURK, AND DIED AT LAST IN HIS OWN HOUSE 
 IN HANOVER SQUARE. 
 
 A NARRATIVE IN PLAIN ENGLISH 
 
 ATTEMPTED BY 
 
 GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 
 
 17 to 27 Vandewater Street. 
 

 
 
 Ryv 
 
 4S ^ 
 
 
 ' >. «*£ 
 
 ■ 
 
 > , 
 
 4 h ■ ‘ 
 
 ' c ^ , n 
 - - • > ^ * 
 
 X? s ■ 
 
 7 :: 7 
 
 ci. 
 
 
 . 
 
 ' --' 'TV 7.010 T- ; iTAK * 
 
 __ 
 
 . 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 V 
 
 fl ' •* ■ i~ ■ & 
 
 .. __ if '-BE - -*' - • " 
 
 • v ; "> Y-'V ?■*: y ,"0 : '' •:>">' , O';, '.* VWl j, l'ju.,4 
 
 . 
 
 v ^ ' : r : bh'OVr mdt )S8Bn 
 
 
 . 7 
 
 ;■ « 
 
 _ 
 
 ; ' y;:V 
 
 ' • V 
 
 ** 
 
 
 7 ' x ; • 
 
 )i •■: . : 'or, h&d 
 
 ' . ' •• 3 
 
 ' ' - ' ••••._ i.^£> ' 
 
 ; • .v. 
 
 - - *- 
 
 
 - w 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 - 
 
 
 
 ./'‘TV 
 
NOTE. 
 
 I have to state, once for all, that for the '‘plain English ” in 
 which I have attempted to write this story, the English of Swift, 
 of Pope, of Addison, and of Steele, has not been adopted as a 
 model. Such a feat of elegant pedantry has been already ad¬ 
 mirably accomplished in Mr. Thackeray’s noble story of “Esmond;” 
 and I have no wish to follow up a successful imitation by a sorry 
 caricature. I have simply endeavored to make my hero write as a 
 man would write who was born and bred in the early part of the 
 eighteenth century, whose reading had been confined to the ordi¬ 
 nary newspapers and story-books of his time, and who, in his old 
 age, had preserved the diction of his youth. The Captain’s orthog¬ 
 raphy has been modernized; for to continue through nearly four 
 hundred pages spelling “ pie ” “ pye,” “ public ” “ publick,” and 
 “ tiger ” “ tyger,” would be but a tiresome trick, keeping up no 
 illusion, and of which the reader would soon sicken. 
 
 G. A. S. 
 
 
%<Z3 
 
 Sa 3i s 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 CHAPTER THE FIRST. 
 
 MINE OWN HOUSE. 
 
 I, John Dangerous, a faithful subject of his Majesty King 
 George, whose bread, God bless him! I ’have eaten, and whose 
 battles I have fought, in my poor way, am now in my sixty-eighth, 
 year, and live in my own house in Hanover Square. By virtue of 
 Several commissions, both English and foreign, I have a right to 
 call myself Captain; and if any man say that I have no such right, 
 he lies and deserves the stab. It may be that this narrative, now 
 composed only for my own pleasure, will, long after my death, see 
 the light in print, and that some sham Captain or sham critic, or 
 pitiful creature of that kind, will question my rank, or otherwise 
 despitefully use my memory. Let such gutter-bloods venture it at 
 their peril. I have, alas, no heirs male; but to my daughter’s hus¬ 
 band, and to his descendants, or, failing them, to their executors, 
 administrators, and assigns, I solemnly commit the task of seeking 
 out such envious rogues, and of kicking and cudgeling them on the 
 basest part of their base bodies. The stab I forego; I wish not to 
 cheat the hangman of his due. But let the knaves discover, to the 
 aching of their sorry sides, that even the ghost of John Dangerous 
 is not to be trifled with. 
 
 There is a knot of these same pestilent persons who meet at a 
 coffee-house in Great Swallow Street, which I am sometimes 
 minded to frequent, and who imagine that they show their wit and 
 parts by reviling their Church and their King, and even by malign¬ 
 ing the Honorable East India Company—a corporation to which I 
 am beholden for many favors. “ Fellow,” I said, only last Satur¬ 
 day, to a whippersnapper from an Inn of Court—a Thing I would 
 not trust to defend my tom-cat were he in peril at the Old Bailey 
 for birdslaughter, and who picks up a wretched livelihood, I am 
 told, by writing lampoons against his betters in a weekly Review—• 
 
3 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 “ Fellow,” I said, “ were I twenty years younger, and you twenty 
 years older, John Dangerous would vouchsafe to pink an eyelet- 
 hole in your waistcoat. Did I care to dabble in your polite con¬ 
 versation or your belles letires (of which I knew much more than 
 ever you will know years before the parish was at pains to fix your 
 begetting on some one), I would answer your scurrilities in print; 
 but this I disdain, sirrah, Good stout ash and good strong Cordovan 
 leather are the things fittest to meet your impertinencies with;” 
 and so I held out my foot, and shook my staff at the coxcomb; and 
 he was so civil to me during the rest of the evening as to allow me 
 to pay his .reckoning for him. 
 
 The chief delight I derive from ending my days in Hanover 
 Square is the knowledge that the house is mine own. I bought it 
 with the fruit of mine own earnings, mine own moneys—not gotten 
 from grinding the faces and squeezing the vitals of the poor, but 
 acquired by painful and skillful industry, and increased by the 
 lawful spoil of war. For booty, as I have heard a great commander 
 say in Russia, is a holy thing. I have not disdained to gather 
 moderate riches by the buying and selling of lawful merchandise; 
 albeit I always looked on mere commerce and barter as having 
 something of the peddling and huckstering savor in them. My 
 notion of a Merchant is that of a Bold Spirit who embarks on his 
 own venture in his own ship, and is his own supercargo, and lias 
 good store of guns and Bold Spirits like himself on board, and sails 
 to and fro on the High Seas whithersoever he pleases. As to the 
 color of the flag he is under, what matters it if it be no color at all, 
 as old Robin Roughhead used to say to me—even Black, which is 
 the negation of all color? So I have traded in my wa}*, and am the 
 better by some thousands of pounds for my trading, now. That 
 much of my wealth has its origin in lawful plunder I scorn to deny. 
 If you slay a Spanish Don in fair fight, and the Don wears jeweled 
 i ings on all his fingers, and carries a great bag of moidores in his 
 pocket, are you to leave him on the field, prithee, or gently ease 
 him of his valuables? Can the crows eat his finery as well as his 
 carcass? If 1 find a ship full of golden doubloons and silver 
 candlesticks destined for the chapel of St. Jago de Compostella, am 
 I to scuttle the ship and let her go down with all these good things 
 on board; or am I to convey them to mine own lockers, giving to 
 each of my valiant comrades his just and proper share? The Gov¬ 
 ernor of Carthagena will never get the doubloons, St. Jago of Com¬ 
 postella will never see his candlesticks; why should not I and my 
 Brave Hearts enjoy them instead of the fishes and the mermaids? 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 9 
 
 They have coral enough clown there, I trow; what do they want 
 with candlesticks? If they lack further ornament there are pearls 
 now to be had out of the oysters—unless there be lawyers down 
 below—ay, and pearls, too, in dead men’s skulls, and emerald and 
 diamond rings on skeleton hands, among the sea-weed, sand, and 
 the many-colored pebbles of the great Deep. 
 
 There are those who call me an old Pirate. Let them. I was 
 never in trouble with the Admiralty Court. I can pass Execution 
 Dock without turning pale. And no one can gainsay me when I 
 aver that I have faithfully served his Majesty King George, and 
 was always a true friend to the Protestant succession? 
 
 There has been a mighty talk, too, about my turning Turk. 
 "Why should not I, if I could not help it? I never turned my coat, 
 as some tine gentlemen who have never, been to Constantinople 
 have done. I never changed my principles, although I was a 
 Bashaw with three tails. Better to have three tails than to be a rat 
 with only one. And, let me tell you, it is a mighty line thing to be 
 a Bashaw, and to have as many purses full of sequins as there are 
 days in the year. 
 
 I should have been hanged long ago, should I—hanged for a 
 Pirate, a Spy, and a Renegade? Well, I have escaped the bow- 
 stiing in a country where hundreds die of sore throat every day, 
 and I can afford to laugh at any prospect of the halter in mine old 
 age. Sword of Damocles forsooth! why my life has been hanging 
 on a cobweb any time these fifty years; and here I am at sixty-eight 
 safe and sound, with a whole liver and a stout heart, and a bottle 
 of wine to give a friend, and a house of mine own in Hanover 
 Square. 
 
 I write this in the great front parlor, which I have converted into 
 a library, study, and counting-room. The year of our Lord is 
 seventeen hundred and eighty. His Majesty’s subjects have lost 
 eleven days—through some roguery in high places, you may be sure 
 —since I was a young man; and were I a curmudgeon, I might 
 grudge that snipping off of the best part of a fortnight from an old 
 man’s life. It may be, indeed, that Providence, who has always 
 been good to me, will add eleven days—yea, and twice eleven—to 
 the span of poor old John Dangerous. I have many mercies to be 
 thankful for; of sins likewise, and grievous ones, there may be a 
 long list that I shall have to account for; but I can say that I never 
 killed a man in cold blood, that I never willfully wronged a woman, 
 so long as she was not obstinate, that I never spake an unkind 
 word to a child, that I always gave freely from that which I got 
 
10 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 freely, and never took from liim who had little, and that I was al¬ 
 ways civil to the clergy. Yet Dr. Dubiety of St. George’s tells 
 me that I have been a great sinner, and bids me, now, to lepent of 
 my evil ways. Dr. Dubiety is in the right, no doubt—how could a 
 Doctor of Divinity be ever in the wrong?—but I can’t see that I am 
 so much worse than other folks. I should be in better case, per- 
 haps, if these eyes stood wider open. I confess that I have killed 
 many men with powder and lead, and the sharp sword; but then, 
 had I not shot or stabbed them, the}'’ would surely have shot or 
 stabbed me. And are not his Majesty’s fellow-subjects shooting 
 and stabbing one another at this instant moment* in the American 
 plantations? No; 1 always fought fair, and never refused quarter 
 when mine enemy threw up his point; nor, unless a foeman’s death 
 were required for lawful reprisals, did I ever refuse moderate 
 ransom. 
 
 There may be some things belonging to my worldly store that 
 trouble me a little in the night season. Should I have given St. 
 Jago de Compostella’s candlesticks to Westminster Abbey? Why, 
 Surely, the Dean and Chapter are rich enough. But I declare that 
 I had neither act nor part in applying the thumbscrews to the 
 Spanish captain, and subjecting the boatswain and his mate to the 
 ordeal of flogging and pickling. ’Twas not I, but Matcham, who 
 is dead, that caused the carpenter to be carbonadoed, and the Scotch 
 purser to walk the plank. Those were, I grant, deeds worthy of 
 Blackbeard; but I had naught to do with them. John Dangerous 
 has suffered too many tortures in the dungeons of the Portuguese 
 Inquisition to think of torturing his fellow-creatures. Then, as to 
 what became of Dona Estella. I declare that I did my best to save 
 that unhappy lady. I entreated, I protested; but in vain. None 
 of that guilt lies at my door; and in the crime of him who roasted 
 the Bishop, and cut off the Franciscan Monk’s great toes, X have no 
 share. Let every man answer for his own deeds. When I went 
 the Middle Passage, I tried to keep the slaves alive as long as I 
 could. When they died, what was there to do but to fling them 
 overboard? Should I not have done the same by white men? I 
 was not one of those cruel Guinea captains who kept the living 
 and the dead chained together. I defy any one to prove it. 
 
 And all this bald chat about sacking towns and gutting convents? 
 War is war all the world over; and if you take a town by assault, 
 Why of course you must sack it. As to gutting convents, ’tis a 
 
 C * 1780. 
 
CAPTAIN DANCtEKOUS. 
 
 11 
 
 mercy 1o let some pure air into the close, stifling places; and, of a 
 surety, an act of charity to let the poor captive nuns out for a holi¬ 
 day. Reverend Superiors, holy Sisters, I never did ye any harm. 
 You can not torment me in the night. Your pale faces and shad¬ 
 owy forms have no need to gather round the bed of John Danger¬ 
 ous. Take, for Pity’s sake, those Eyes away. But no more. 
 These thoughts drive me mad. 
 
 I am not alone in my house. My daughter, my beloved Lilias, 
 my only and most cherished child, the child of my old age, the 
 legacy of the. departed Saint her mother, lives with me. Bless her! 
 she believes not a word of the lies that are whispered of her old 
 father. If she were to be told a tithe of them she would grieve 
 sorely; but she holds no converse with slanderers and those who 
 wag their tongues and say so and so of such a one. She knows 
 that my life has been wild, and stormy, and dangerous as my 
 name; but she knows that it has also been one of valor, and honesty 
 and honor. St. Jago de Compostella’s candlesticks never went to¬ 
 ward her schooling, pretty creature! My share from the gold in 
 the scuttled ship never helped to furnish forth her dowry. Lilias 
 is my joy, my comfort, my stay, my merciful consolation for the 
 loss of that good and perfect Woman her mother. Dear heart! she 
 has never been crossed in love, never known Love’s sorrows, angers, 
 disappointments, and despair. She was married at twenty years 
 of age to the man of her choice; and I am delighted to know that I 
 never interfered, by word or by deed, with the progress of her 
 wooing; that he to whom she is w T edded is one of the worthiest of 
 youths; and that Heaven has blessed me with the means to enable 
 him to maintain the state and figure of a gentleman. 
 
 Thus, although comfort and quiet are the things I chiefly desire 
 after the bustle and turmoil of a tempest-tossed life, and the pleas¬ 
 ure I take in the gayeties of the town is but small, it cheers me to 
 see my Son and Daughter enjoying themselves, as those who have 
 youth and health and an unclouded conscience are warranted in 
 doing, and, indeed, called upon to do. I like them on Sundays and 
 holidays to come to church at St. George’s, and sit under Dr, 
 Dubiety, where I, as a little lad, sat many and many a time, more 
 than fifty years ago; but my house is no conventicle, and on all 
 week-days and lawful occasions my family is privileged to partake 
 to their heart’s content of innocent and permitted amusements. I 
 never set my face against a visit to the play-house or to the concert- 
 room; although to me, who can remember the most famous players 
 and singers of Europe, the King’s Theater and the Rotunda, and 
 
12 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 even Drury Lane, are very tame places, tilled with very foolish 
 folk. But they please the young people, and that is enough for 
 me. Nor to an occasional junketing at Yauxhall do I ever object. 
 ’Tis true I have seen Ranelagh and Marylebone and Belsize, to say 
 nothing of the chief continental Tivolis, Spas, Lustgardens, and 
 other places of resort of the Great; but tiddlers are tiddlers, and 
 colored lamps are colored lamps all the world over, I suppose; and 
 my children have as much delight in gazing on these brilliant 
 follies now as I had when I and the eighteenth century were young. 
 Only against masquerades and faro-tables, as likewise against the 
 pernicious game of E. O., do I sternly set my face, deeming them 
 as wholly wicked, carnal, and unprofitable, and leading directly to 
 perdition. 
 
 It rejoices me much that my son, or rather son-in-law—but I love 
 to call him by the more affectionate name—is in no wise addicted 
 to dicing, or horse-racing, or cock-fighting, or any of those sinful 
 and riotous courses to which so many of our genteel youth—even 
 to those of the first quality—devote themselves. He is no Puritan; 
 but he has a proper sense of what is due to the honor and decency 
 of his family, and refrains from soiling them among the profligate 
 crew to be met with, not alone at Newmarket, or at the Dog and 
 Duck, but in Pall Mall, and in the very antechambers of St. 
 James’s. He rides his hackney, as a gentleman should, nor have I 
 prohibited him from occasionally taking my Lilias an airing in a 
 neat curricle; but lie is no better on the turf, no comrade of jockeys 
 and stablemen, no patron of bruisers and those that handle the 
 backsword. I would disinherit him were I to suspect him of such 
 practices, or of an over-fondness for the bottle, or of a passion for 
 cards. He hunts sometimes, and fishes and shoots, and he has a 
 pretty fancy for the making of salmon-flies, in the which pursuit, 
 I conclude, there is much ingenuity, and no manner of harm, fish 
 being given to us for food, and the devising how best to snare the 
 creatures entirely lawful. 
 
 Lilias Dangerous has been wedded to Edward Marriner these two 
 years. It was at first my design to buy the youth a pair of colors, 
 and to let him see the world and the usagea of lawful warfare for a 
 year or two; but my Lilias could not bear the thought of her young 
 Ensign’s coming home without an arm or a leg, or perchance being- 
 slain in some desperate conflict with savage Indians, or scarcely less 
 savage Americans; and I did not press my plan of giving Edward 
 for a time to the service of the King. He, I am bound to say, was 
 eager to take up a commission; but the tears and entreaties of my 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 13 
 
 Daughter, who thinks War the wickedest of crimes, and the shed¬ 
 ding of human blood a wholly unpardonable thing, prevailed. So 
 they were married, and are happy; and I am sure now, that were 
 I to lose either of them, it would break the old man’s heart. 
 
 My Lilias is tall and slender, her skin is veiy white, her hair a 
 rich brown, her eyes very large and clear and blue. But that I am 
 too old to be vain, I might be twitted with conceit when I state that 
 she holds these advantages of person less from her Mother than 
 from myself, her loving father. Not that I was so comely in my 
 young days; but my Grandmother before me was of the same fair 
 Image that I so delight to look upon in Lilias. She was tall, and 
 white, and brown-haired, and blue-eyed. She had Lilias’s small 
 and exquisitely fashioned hands and feet, or rather Lilias has hers. 
 To me these features were only transmitted in a meaner degree. I 
 was a big-boned lusty lad, with flowing brown locks, an unfreckled 
 skin, and an open eye; but my Grandmother’s face and form have 
 renewed themselves in my child. At twenty she is as beautiful as 
 her Great-grandmother must have been at twenty, as I am told and 
 know that Lady was, albeit when I remember her she was nearly 
 ninety years of age. 
 
 Yes; Lilias’s eye are very blue; but they are always soft and 
 tender and pitiful in their glance. Her Great-grandmother’s had, 
 when she was moved, a strange wild look that awed and terrified 
 the beholders. Only once in the life of my Lilias, when she was 
 very young, and on the question of some loy or sweetmeat which 
 my departed Saint had denied her, did I notice that terrible look in 
 her blue eyes. My wife, who, albeit the most merciful soul alive, 
 ever maintained strict discipline in her family, would have cor¬ 
 rected the child for what she set down as flat mutiny and rebellion; 
 but I stayed her chastening hand, and bade the young girl walk 
 awhile in the garden until her heat was abated; and as she went 
 away, her little breast heaving, her little hands clinched, and the 
 terrible look darting out on me through the silken tangles of her 
 dear hair, I shuddered, and said, “ Wife of mine, our Lilias’s look is 
 one she can not help. It comes from Me, you may have seen it, 
 fiercer and fiercer in mine own eyes; and she, whom of all women 
 I loved and venerate, looked thus when anger overcame her. And 
 though I never knew my own dear Mother, she, or I greatly mis¬ 
 take, must have had that look in hers likewise.” 
 
 I thank Heaven that those pure blue waters, limpid and bright, 
 in my Lilias’s eyes were nevermore ruffled by that storm. As she 
 grew up their expression became even softer and kinder, and she 
 
14 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 never ceased from being in the likeness of an Angel. She looks 
 like one now, and will be one, I trust, some day, Above, where she 
 can pray for her danger-worn old sire. 
 
 My own wife (whose name was Lilias, too) was a merry, plump, 
 ruddy-skinned little woman—a very baby in these strong arms of 
 mine. She had laughing black eyes, and coal-black tresses, and 
 lips which were always at vintage-time. Although her only child 
 takes after me, not her, in face and carriage, in all things else she 
 resembles my Saint. She is as merry, as light-hearted, as pure and 
 good, as she was. She has the same humble, pious Faith; the 
 same strong, stern will of abiding by Right; the same hearty, out¬ 
 spoken hatred of Wrong, abhorrence of Wrong. She has the same 
 patience, cheerfulness, and obedience in her behavior to those "who 
 are set in authority over her; and if I am by times angered, or 
 peevish, or moody, she bears with my infirmities in the same meek, 
 loving, and forgiving spirit. She has her Mother’s grace, her 
 Mother’s voice, her Mother’s ringing voice. She has her Mother’s 
 infinite care of and benevolence to the poor and needy. She has 
 her Mother’s love for merry sports and innocent romps. Like my 
 departed Saint, she has an exquisitely neat and quick hand for 
 making pastries and marchpanes, possets and sugared tankards; 
 and like her she plays excellently on the harpsichords. 
 
 Thus, in a quiet comfort and competence, in the love of my chil¬ 
 dren, and in the King’s peace, these my latter days are gliding 
 away. I am somewhat troubled with gout and twitching pains, 
 and fullness of humors, with other old men’s ailments; and I do 
 not sleep well o’ nights owing to vexatious dreams and visions, to 
 abate which I am sometimes let blood; but beyond these cares— 
 and who hath not his cares?—Captain John Dangerous, of number 
 One Hundred Hanover Square, is a happy man. 
 
 CHAPTER THE SECOND. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF AN UNKNOWN LADY, WHO CAME FROM DOVER 
 
 IN A COACH-AND-SIX. 
 
 In the winter of the year 1720, died in her house in Hanover 
 Square—the very one in which I am now finishing my life—an 
 Unknown Lady nearly ninety years of age. The mansion was pre¬ 
 sumed to be her own, and it was as much hers as it is mine now; 
 but the reputed landlord was one Dr. Vigors, a physician of the 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 15 
 
 College in Warwick Lane, in whose name the lease ran, who was 
 duly rated to the poor as tenant, and whose patient the Unknown 
 Lady was given out to be. But when Dr. Vigors came to Hanover 
 Square it was not as a Master, but as the humblest of servants; and 
 no tradesman, constable, maid, or lackey about the house or neigh¬ 
 borhood wculd have ventured for his or her life to question that, 
 from cellar to roof, every inch of the house belonged to the Un¬ 
 known Lady. The vulgar held her in a kind of awe, and spoke of 
 her as the Lady in Diamonds; for she always wore a number of 
 those precious gems, in rings, bracelets, stomachers, and the like. 
 The gentlefolks, of whom many w T aited upon her, from her first 
 coming hither unto her death, asked for “ my Lady,” and nothing 
 more. It was in the year 1714 that she first arrived in London, 
 coming late at night from Dover, in a coach-and-six, and bringing 
 with her one Mr. Cadwallader, a person of a spare habit and great 
 gravity of countenance, as her steward; one Mistress Haney Tal- 
 masli, as her waiting-woman; and a foreign person of a dark and 
 forbidding mien, who was said to be her chaplain. In the follow¬ 
 ing year, and during the unhappy troubles in Scotland arising out 
 of the treasons of the Earl of Mar, and other Scots Lords, one of his 
 Majesty’s messengers came for the foreign person, and conveyed 
 him in a coach to the Cockpit at Whitehall; while another mes¬ 
 senger took up his abode in the house at Hanover Square, lying in 
 the second best bed-chamber, and having his table apart for a whole 
 week. From these circumstances it was rumored that the Unknown 
 Lady was a Papist and Jacobite; that the priest, her confederate, 
 was bound for Newgate, and would doubtless make an end of it at 
 Tyburn; and that the Lady herself would be before many days 
 clapped up in the Tower. But Signor Casagiotti, the Venetian 
 envoy, claimed the foreign person and obtained his release; and it 
 was said that one of the great lords of the council came himself to 
 Hanover Square to take the examination of the Unknown Lady, 
 and was so w T ell satisfied with the speech he had with her as to dis¬ 
 charge her then and there from custody—if, indeed, she had ever 
 been under any kind of durance—and promise her the King and 
 Minister’s protection for the future. The foreign person was 
 suffered to return, and tlienceforward was addressed as Father Rud- 
 dlestone, as though he had some license bearing him harmless from 
 the penalties which then weighed upon recusant persons. And I 
 am given to understand that, on the evening of his enlargement, 
 the same great Lord, being addressed in a jocular manner at the 
 coffee-house by a person of honor, and asked if he had not caught 
 
16 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 tlie Pope, the Devil, and ilie Pretender in petticoats and diamonds 
 somewhere in St. George’s parish, very gravely made answer, that 
 some degrees of loyalty were like gold, which were all the better 
 for being tried in the furnace, and that, although there had once 
 been a King James, and there was now a King George, the lady, 
 of whom perhaps that gentleman was minded to speak, had done a 
 notable Thing before he was born, which entitled her to the eternal 
 gratitude of Kings. 
 
 Although so old on her first coming to Hanover Square, and 
 dwelling in it until her waiting-woman avowed that she was close 
 on her ninetieth year, the Unknown Lady preserved her faculties 
 in a surprising manner, and till within a few days of her passing 
 away went about her house, took the air from time to time in her 
 coach, or in a chair, and received company. The very highest per¬ 
 sons of Quality sought her, and appeared to take pleasure in her 
 company. To Court, indeed, she never went; but she was visited 
 more than once by an illustrious Prince; and many great nobles 
 likewise waited upon her in their Birthday suits. On Birthniglits 
 there was Play in the great drawing-room, where nothing but gold 
 was permitted to be staked. 
 
 Credible persons have described her to me as being—in the ex- 
 tremest sunset of her life, when the very fray and fringe of her gar¬ 
 ment were come to, and no more stuff remained wherewith to piece 
 it—a person of signal beauty. She was of commanding stature, 
 stooped very little, albeit she made use of a crutch-stick in walking, 
 and had a carriage full of graciousness, yet of somewhat austere 
 Dignity. No portion of her hair was visible under the thick folds 
 of muslin and point of Alengon which covered her head, and were 
 themselves half hidden by a hood of black Paduasoy; but in a glass- 
 case in her cabinet, among other relics of which I may have pres¬ 
 ently to speak, she kept a quantity of the most beauteous chestnut 
 tresses ever beheld. “ These were my love-locks, child,” I remem¬ 
 ber her saying to me once. I am ashamed to confess that, during 
 my brief commerce witn her, the dress she wore, which was com¬ 
 monly of black velvet, and the diamonds which glittered on her 
 hands and arms and bosom impressed themselves far more forcibly 
 on my memory than her face, which I have since been told was 
 Beautiful. My informant bears witness that her eyes were Blue, and 
 of an exceeding brightness, sometimes quite terrible to look upon, 
 although tempered at most times by a sweet mildness; yet there 
 were seasons when this brightness, as that of the Sun in a wholly 
 cloudless sky, became fierce, and burned up him who beheld it. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 17 
 
 Time had been so long a husbandman of her fair demesne, had 
 reaped so many crops of smiles and tears from that comely visage, 
 that it were a baseness to infer that no traces of his husbandry ap¬ 
 peared on her once smooth and silken flesh, for the adornment of 
 which she had ever disdained the use of essences and unguents. 
 H. et I am told that her wrinkles and creases, although manifold,, 
 were not harsh or rugged; and that her face might be likened rather 
 to a billet of love written on fair white vellum, that had been some¬ 
 what crumpled by the hand of him who hates Youth and Love,* 
 than to some musty old conveyance or mortgage-deed scrabbled on 
 yellow, damp-stained, rat-gnawed parchment. Her hands and neck 
 were to the last of an amazing whiteness. The former, as were also 
 her feet, very small and delicate. Her speech when moved was- 
 quick, and she spoke as one accustomed to be obeyed; but at most 
 seasons her bearing toward her domestics was infinitely kind and 
 tender. Toward the foreign person, her chaplain, she always bore 
 herself with edifying meekness. She was cheerful in company, full 
 of ready wit, of great shrewdness, discretion, and observation; could 
 discourse to admiration of foreign cities and persons of renown, 
 even to Kings and Princes, whom she had seen and known; and was 
 well qualified to speak on public affairs, although she seldom 
 deigned to concern herself with the furious madness of Party. Mere 
 idle prattle of operas, and play-books, and auctions, and the like, 
 were extremely distasteful to her; and although at that time a 
 shameful looseness of manners and conversation obtained even 
 among the Greatest persons in the land, she would never suffer any 
 evil or immodest talk to be held in her presence; and those who 
 wished to learn aught of the wickedness of the town and the scan¬ 
 dals of High Life were fain to go elsewhere for their gossip. 
 
 I have said that her dress was to me the chief point of notice, and 
 is that of which I retain the keenest remembrance. Her diamonds 
 indeed, had over me that strange fascination which serpents are 
 said to have over birds; and I would sit with my little mouth all 
 agape, and my eyes fixed and staring, until they grew dazed, and I 
 was frightened at the solemn twinkling of those many gems. In 
 my absurd child-way, it was to my fancy as though the Lady were 
 some great altar or hearse of state in a church, and her Jewels so 
 many Lamps kindled about her, and to be kept alive forever. She 
 robed habitually, as I have said, in Black Velvet; but on Birth- 
 nights, when more company than usual came, and there was play 
 in the great drawing-room, she would wear a sack of sad-colored 
 satin; while, which was stranger still, on the thirtieth day of Jan- 
 
18 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 nary in every year, at least so long as I can keep it in mind, she 
 wore her sable dress; not her ordinary one, but a fuller garment, 
 which had bows of Crimson Ribbon down the front and at the 
 sleeves, and a great Crimson Scarf over the right shoulder, so as to 
 come crosswise over her Heart. And on the day she made this 
 change she wore no diamonds, but Rubies in great number, and of 
 great size. On that day, also, we kept an almost entire fast, and 
 from morning to night I had nothing but a little cake and a glass 
 of Red wine. From sunrise to sunset the Lady sat in her cabinet 
 among her relics; and I was bidden to sit over against her on a lit¬ 
 tle stool. She would talk much, and, as it seemed to me wildly, in 
 a language which I could not understand, going toward her relics 
 and touching them in a strange manner. Then she would say to 
 me, with a sternness that chilled the marrow in my bones, “ Child, 
 Remember the Hay; Remember the Thirtieth of January.” And 
 she would often repeat that word, “Remember,” rocking herself 
 to and fro. And more than once she would say, “ Blood for blood.” 
 Then Mistress Talmash would enter and essay to soothe her, telling 
 lier that what was past was past, and could not be undone. Then 
 she would take out a great Prayer-Book bound in red leather, and 
 which had this strange device embossed in gold, on either cover, 
 
 and in a solemn voice read out long passages, which I afterward 
 learned were from that service holden on the anniversary of the 
 martyrdom of King Charles the First. She would go on to read 
 the Ritual for the King’s Touching for the Evil, now expunged 
 from our Book of Common Prayer; and then Mistress Talmash 
 would pray her to read the joyful prayers for the twenty-ninth of 
 May, the date of the happy restoration of King Charles the Second. 
 But that she would seldom do, murmuring, “ I dare not, I dare 
 not. Tell not Father Ruddlestone.” All these things were very 
 
CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 19 
 
 strange to me; but I grew accustomed to them in time. And there 
 seems to be an immensity of time passing to a solitary child between 
 his first beginning to remember and his coming to eight years of 
 age. 
 
 There is one thing that I must mention before this Lady ceases to 
 be Unknown to the reader. She was afflicted with a continual 
 trembling of the entire frame. She was no paralytic, for to the 
 very end she could take her food and medicine without assistance; 
 but she shook always like a very aspen. It had to do with her 
 nerves, I suppose; and it was perhaps for that cause she was at¬ 
 tended for so many years by Dr. Vigors; but he never did her any 
 good iji that wise; and the whole College of Warwick Lane would, 
 I doubt not, have, failed signally had they attempted her cure. 
 Often I asked Mistress Talmash why the Lady—for until her death 
 I knew of no other name whereby to call her—shook so; but the 
 waiting-woman would chide me, and say that if I asked questions 
 she would Shake me. So that I forbore. 
 
 Ours was a strange and solemn household. All was stately and 
 well ordered, and—when company came—splendid; but the house 
 always seemed to be much gloomier than the great parish-church, 
 whither I was taken every Sunday morning on the shoulder of a 
 tall footman, and shut up alone in a great Pew lined with scarlet 
 baize, and where I felt very much like a little child that was lost in 
 the midst of the Red Sea. Far over my head hung a gallery full 
 of the children of Lady Viellcastel’s charity school; and these, both 
 boys and girls, -would make grimaces at me while the Psalms were 
 being sung, until I felt more frightened than when I was on my lit¬ 
 tle stool in the cabinet of relics, on the thirtieth of January. Just 
 over the ledge of my pew I could see the clergyman, in his large 
 white wig, leaning over the reading-desk, and talking at me, as I 
 thought, in a mighty angry manner; and tvlien he, or another divine, 
 afterward ascended the pulpit above, I used to fancy that it was 
 only the same clergyman grown taller, and with a bigger wig, and 
 that he seemed to lean forward, and be angrier with me than ever. 
 The time of kneeling was always one of sore trouble to me, for 1 
 had to feel with my foot for the hassock, which seemed to lie as 
 far beneath me as though it were sunk at the bottom of the Red 
 Sea. Getting up again was quite as difficult; and I don’t think 
 we ever attained the end of the Litany without my dropping my 
 great red Prayer-Book—not the thirtieth-of-January one—with a 
 clang. On such occasions the pew-door would open, and the beadle 
 enter. He always picked up the book, and gave it me with a low 
 
20 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 bow; but he never omitted to tell me, in a deadly whisper, that if I 
 had been one of Lady Viellcastel’s boys, he’d skin me alive, he 
 would. 
 
 The Unknown Lady did not attend the parisli-cliurch. She, and 
 Mistress Talmash, and the foreign person, held a service apart. I 
 was called “ Little Master,” and went with the footman. The fel¬ 
 low’s name, I remember, was Jeremy. He used to talk to me, 
 going and coming, as I sat, in my fine laced clothes, and my hat 
 with a plume in it, and my little rapier with the silver hilt, perched 
 on his broad shoulder. He used to tell me that he had been a 
 soldier, and had fought under the Duke of Marlborough; and that 
 he had a wife who washed bands and ruffles for the gentlemen of 
 the Life Guard, and drank strong waters till she found herself in 
 the round-house. Always on a Sunday morning, as the church- 
 bells began to ring, the Unknown Lady would give me a guinea to 
 put into the plate after service. I remember that the year before 
 she died, when I was big enough to walk with my hand in Jeremy’s, 
 instead of being carried, that he told me on Easter-Sunday morn¬ 
 ing that his wife was dead, and that he had two children in a cellar 
 who had no bread to eat. He cried a good deal; and before we 
 reached the church, took me into a strange room in a back street, 
 where there were a number of men and women shouting and quar¬ 
 reling, and another, without his wig and with a great gash in his 
 forehead, sprawling on the ground, and crying out, “ Lillibulero!” 
 and two more playing cards on a pair of bellows. And they were 
 all drinking from mugs and smoking tobacco. Here Jeremy had 
 something to drink, too, from a mug. He put the vessel to my lips, 
 and I tasted something Hot, which made me feel very faint and 
 giddy. When we were in the open air again, he cried worse than 
 ever. What could I do but give him my guinea? On our return 
 to Hanover Square, the Lady asked me, according to her custom, 
 what was the text, and whether I had put my money into the plate. 
 She was not strict about the first; for I was generally, from my ten¬ 
 derness of years, unable to tell her more than that the gentleman in 
 the wig seemed very angry with me, and the Pope, and the Prince 
 of Darkness; but she always taxed me smartly about the guinea. 
 This was before the time that I had learned to Lie; and so I told 
 her how 1 had given the piece of gold to Jeremy, for that his wife 
 was no more, and his children were in a cellar with nothing to eat. 
 She staj r ed a while looking at me with those blue eyes, which had 
 first their bright fierceness in them and then their kind and sweet 
 tenderness. It was the first time that I marked her eyes more than 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 21 
 
 her dress and her diamonds. She took me in her lap, and printed 
 her lips—which were very soft, but cold—upon my forehead. 
 
 “Child,” she said, “did I use thee as is the custom, thou 
 shouldst be whipped, not kissed, for thy folly and disobedience. 
 But you know not what you did. Here are two guineas to put into 
 the plate next Sunday; and let no rogues cozen you out of it. As for 
 Jeremy,” she continued, turning to Mistress Talmash, “ see that 
 the knave be stripped of his livery, and turned out of the house 
 this moment, for robbing my Grandson, and taking him on a Sab¬ 
 bath morning to taverns, among grooms, and porters, and sharpers, 
 and bullies.” 
 
 Yes; the Unknown Lady was my Grandmother. 1 purpose now 
 to relate to you her History, revealed to me many years after her 
 death, in a manner to be mentioned at the proper time. 
 
 CHAPTER THE THIRD. 
 
 THE HISTORY OP MY GRANDMOTHER, WHO WAS A LADY OP CON¬ 
 SEQUENCE IN THE WEST COUNTRY. 
 
 My Grandmother was born at Bristol, about the year 1630, and 
 in the reign of King Charles the First. She came of a family 
 noted for their long lives, and of whom there was, in good sooth, a 
 proverb in the West setting forth tlial “Bar gallows, glaive, and 
 the gout, every Greenville w T ould live to a hundred.” Her maiden 
 name was Greenville; she w T as baptized Arabella; and she was the 
 only daughter of Richard Greenville, an esquire of a fair estate be¬ 
 tween Bath and Bristol, where his ancestors had held their land for 
 three hundred years, on a jocular tenure of presenting the king, 
 whenever he came that way, with a goose-pie, the legs sticking 
 through the crust. It was Esquire Greenville’s misfortune to come 
 to his estate just as those unhappy troubles were fomenting which 
 a few years after embroiled these kingdoms in one great and dismal 
 Quarrel. It was hard for a gentleman of consequence in his own 
 country, and one whose forefathers had served the most consider¬ 
 able offices therein—having been of the Quorum ever since the reign 
 of King Edward the Third—to avoid mingling in some kind or an¬ 
 other in the dissensions wherewith our beloved country was, then 
 torn. Mr. Greenville was indeed a person of a tranquil and pla¬ 
 cable humor, to whom party janglings were thoroughly detestable; 
 and although he leaned naturally, as beseemed his degree, toward 
 
22 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 the upholding of his Majesty’s Crown and Dignity, and the main¬ 
 tenance in proper Honor and Splendor of the Church, he was too 
 good a Christian and citizen not to shrink from seeing his native 
 land laid waste by the blind savageness of a Civil War. And al¬ 
 though he paid cess and ship-money without murmuring, and, on 
 being chosen a Knight of the Shire, did zealously speak up in the 
 Commons House of Parliament on the King’s side (refusing never¬ 
 theless to make one of the lip-serving crowd of courtiers of White¬ 
 hall), and although, when church-warden in his parish, he ever pre¬ 
 served the laudable custom of Whitsun and Martinmas ales for the 
 good of the poor, and persisted in having the Book of Sports read 
 from the pulpit—he was averse from all high-handed measures of 
 musketooning and pike-stabbing those of the meaner sort, or those 
 of better degree (as Mr. Hampden, Mr. Pym, and Another whom 
 I shudder to mention), • who, for conscience’ sake, opposed them¬ 
 selves to the King’s Government. He was in this wise at issue 
 with? some of his hotter Cavalier neighbors, as, for instance, Sir 
 Basil Fauconberge, who, whenever public matters were under ques¬ 
 tion, began with “ Neighbor, you must first sliotv me Pym, Hamp¬ 
 den, Haslerigge, and the rest, swinging upon a gallows, and then I 
 will begin to chop logic with you.” For a long time Mr. Green¬ 
 ville, my Great-grandfather (and my enemies may see from this 
 that I am of no rascal stock), cherished hopes that affairs might be 
 brought to a shape without any shedding of blood; but his hope 
 proved a vain and deceiving one; ungovernable passions on either 
 side caused not alone the drawing of the sword, but the flinging 
 away of the scabbard; and my Grandmother was yet but a school- 
 maid at Madame Ribotte’s academy for gentlewomen at Bristol when 
 that dreadful, sinful war broke out which ended in the barbarous 
 murder of the Prince, and the undoing of these kingdoms. 
 
 Mr. Greenville had two children; a son, whose name, like his 
 own, was Richard, and who was born some five years before his 
 sister Arabella. Even as a child she was exceedingly beautiful, 
 very gracious, fair, grave, and dignified of deportment, with 
 abundant brown hair, and large lustrous blue eyes, which, when 
 the transient tempests of childhood passed over her, were ever re¬ 
 marked as having a strange, wild, fierce look, shared in sometimes 
 by the males of her family. Her mother, to her sorrow, died when 
 she w&s quite a babe. The Esquire was passionately fond of this 
 his only daughter; but although it was torture for him to part with 
 her, and he retained her until she was thirteen years of age in his 
 mansion-house, where she was instructed in reading and devotion, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 23 
 
 pickling and preserving (and the disliking of strong waters), sam¬ 
 pler work, and such maidenly parts of education, by the house¬ 
 keeper, and by a governante brought from London—he had wisdom 
 enough to discern and to admit that his daughter’s genius was of a 
 nature that required and demanded much higher culture than could 
 be given to her in an old country seat, and in the midst of talk 
 about dogs and horses and cattle and gunning and plowing, and 
 the continual disputes of hot-headed Cavaliers or bitter Parliament¬ 
 arians, who were trying who should best persuade my Great-grand¬ 
 father to cast in his lot with one or the other of the contending 
 parties. His son Richard had already made his election, and, it is 
 feared, by having recourse to usurious money-scriveners in Bristol 
 and London, had raised a troop of horse for the service of the King. 
 Moreover, Arabella Greenville was of a very proud stomach and 
 unbending humor. She might be led, but would not be driven. 
 She adored her father, but laughed at the commands of the gover¬ 
 nante, and the counsels of the housekeeper, who knew not how 
 either to lead or to rule her. It was thus determined to send her 
 to Madame Ribotte’s academy at Bristol—for even so early as King 
 Charles’s time had outlandish and new-fangled names been found 
 for Schools; and thither she was accordingly sent, with instructions 
 that she was to learn all the polite arts and accomplishments proper 
 to her station, that she was to be kept under a strict regimen, and 
 corrected of her faults; but that she was not to be thwarted in her 
 reasonable desires; was to have her pony, with John coachman on 
 the skewball sent to fetch her every Saturday and holiday; was not 
 to be overweighted with tedious and dragging studies; and was by 
 no means to be subject to those shameful chastisements of the ferula 
 and the rod, which, even within my own time, I blush to say had 
 not been banished from schools for young gentlewomen. To sum 
 up, Miss Arabella Greenville went to school, with a pocketful of 
 guineas, and a play-chest full of sweet-cakes and preserved fruits, 
 and with a virtual charter for learning as little as she chose, and 
 doing pretty well as much as she liked. 
 
 Of course my Grandmother ran a fair chance of being wholly 
 spoiled, and growing up to one of those termagant romps we used 
 to laugh at in Mr. Colley Cibber’s plays. The school-mistress fawned 
 upon her, for, although untitled, Esquire Greenville (from whom 
 my descent is plain) was one of the most considerable of the County 
 Gentry; the teachers were glad when she would treat them i rom 
 her abundant store of guineas; and she was a kind of divinity 
 among the scliool-maids her companions, to'whom she gave so many 
 
M 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 cakes and sweetmeats that the apothecary had to he called in about 
 once a week. But this fair young flower-bed was saved from blight 
 and choking weeds, first, by the innate rectitude and nobility of her 
 disposition, which (save only when that dangerous look was in her 
 eyes) taught her to keep a rein over her caprices, and subdue a too 
 warm and vigorous imagination; next, by the entire absence of 
 vanity and self-conceit in her mind—a happy state, which made her 
 equally alive to her own faults and todlie excellencies of others; 
 and, last, by her truly prodigious aptitude for polite learning. I 
 have often been told that but for adverse circumstances Mrs. Green¬ 
 ville must have proved one of the most learned, as she was one of 
 the wittiest and best-bred, women of age and country. In the 
 languages, in all manner of fine needlework, in singing and finger¬ 
 ing instruments of music, in medicinal botany and the knowledge 
 of diseases, in the making of the most cunning electuaries and syl¬ 
 labubs, and even in arithmetic—a science of which young gentle¬ 
 women were then almost wholly deficient—she became, before she 
 was sixteen years of age, a truly wonderful proficient. A Bristol 
 bookseller spoke of printing her book of recipes (containing some 
 excellent hints on cookery, physic, the casting of nativities, and 
 farriery); and some excellent short hymns she wrote are, I believe, 
 sung to this day in one of the Bristol free-schools. But the talent 
 for which she wgs most shiningly remarkable was in that difficult 
 and laborious art of Painting in Oils. Her early drawings, both in 
 crajmns and Chinese ink, were very noble; and there are in this 
 House now some miniatures of her father, brother, and school-com¬ 
 panions, limned by her in a most delicate and lovely fashion; but 
 ’twas in oils and in portraiture of the size of life that she most sur. 
 passed. She speedily out-went all that the best masters of this 
 craft in Bristol could teach her; and her pictures—especially one of 
 her father, in his buffi coat and breastplate, as a Colonel of the Mili¬ 
 tia—were the wonder, not only of Bristol, but of all Somerset and 
 the counties adjacent. 
 
 About this time those troubles in the West, with which the name 
 of Prince Rupert is so sadly allied, grew to be of such force and 
 fury as to decide Mr. Greenville on going to London, taking his 
 daughter Arabella with him, to make interest with the Parliament, 
 so that peril might be averted from his estate. For although his 
 son was in arms for King Charles, and he himself was a gentleman 
 of approved loyalty, he had done nothing of an overt kind to favor 
 King or Parliament. He thus hoped, having ever been a peaceable 
 and law-worthy gentleman, to preserve his lands from peril, and 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 25 
 
 liimself and family from prQsecution; and it is a great error to sup¬ 
 pose that many honest gentlemen did not so succeed in the very 
 fiercest frenzy of the civil wars in keeping their houses over their 
 heads, and their heads upon their shoulders. Witness worthy Mr. 
 John Evelyn of Wotton and Sayes’ Court, and many other persons 
 of repute. 
 
 While the Esquire was intent on his business at Westminster, and 
 settling the terms of a Fine, without which it seemed even his 
 peaceable behavior could not be compounded, he lay at the house 
 of a friend, Sir Fortunatus Geddings, a Turkey merchant, who had 
 a fair house in the street leading directly to St. Paul’s Church, just 
 without Ludgate. The gate has been pulled down this many a 
 day, and the place where he dwelt is now called Ludgate Hill. 
 As he had much going to and fro, and was afraid that his daughter 
 might come to hurt, both in the stoppage to her schooling, and in 
 the unquietness of the times, he placed her for a while at a famous 
 school at Hackney, under that famous governante Mrs. Desaguil- 
 iers. And here she had not been for many weeks ere the strangest 
 adventure in the world—as strange as any one of my own—befelj 
 her. The terrible battle of Naseby had by this time been fought 
 and the King’s cause was wholly ruined. Among other Cavaliers 
 fortunate enough to escape from that deadly fray, and who were in 
 hiding from the vengeance of the usurping government, was the 
 
 Lord Francis V-rs, younger son to that hapless Duke of 
 
 B-m who was slain at Portsmouth by Captain F-n. It seems 
 
 almost like a scene in a comedy to tell; and, indeed, I am told that 
 Tom D’Urfey did turn the only merry portion of it into a play; but 
 it appears that, among other shifts to keep his disguise, the Lord 
 Francis, who was highly skilled in all the accomplishments of the 
 age, was fain to enter Mrs. Desaguiliers’s school at Hackney in the 
 habit of a dancing-master, and that as such he taught corantoes and 
 rounds to the young gentlewomen. Whether the governante, who 
 was herself a stanch Royalist, winked at the deception, I know not; 
 but her having done so is not improbable. Stranger to tell, the 
 Lord Francis brought with him a companion who was, forsooth, to 
 teach French and the lute, and who was no other than Captain 
 Richard, son to the Esquire of the West country, and who was 
 likewise inveterately pursued by the Usurper. The brother recog¬ 
 nized his sister, to what joy and contentment on both their parts I 
 need not say; but ere the false dancing-master had played his part 
 many days, he fell madly in love with Arabella Greenville. To her 
 sorrow and wretchedness, my poor Grandmother returned his flame. 
 
26 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Not that the Lord Francis stands convicted of any base designs 
 upon her. I am afraid that he had been as wild and as reckless as 
 most of the young nobles of his day; but for this young woman at 
 least his love w T as pure and honorable. He made no secret of it to 
 his fast friend, Captain Richard (my Grand-uncle), who would soon 
 have crossed swords with the spark had any villainy been afloat ; and 
 he made no more ado, as was the duty of a Brother jealous of his 
 sister’s fair fame, but to write his father word of what had chanced. 
 The Esquire was half terrified and half flattered by the honor done 
 to his family by the Lord Francis. The poor young man was under 
 the very sternest of proscriptions, and it was openly known that if 
 the Parliament laid hold on him his death was certain. But, on 
 the other hand, the Esquire loved his daughter above all things; 
 and one short half-hour, passed with her alone at Hackney, per¬ 
 suaded him that he must either let Arabella’s love-passion have its 
 vent, or break her heart forever. And, take my word for it; you 
 foolish parents who would thwart your children in this the most 
 sacred moment of their lives—thwart them for no reasonable cause, 
 but only to gratify your own pride of purse, avarice, evil tempers, 
 or love of meddling—you are but gathering up bunches of nettles 
 wherewith to scourge your own shoulders, and strewing your own 
 beds with shards and pebbles. Take the advice of old John Dan¬ 
 gerous, who suffered his daughter to marry the man of her choice, 
 and is happy in the thought that she enjoys happiness; and I should 
 much wish to know if there be any Hatred in the world so dread¬ 
 ful as that curdled love, as that reverence decayed, as that obedi¬ 
 ence in ruins, you see in a proud haughty daughter married against 
 her will to one she holds in loathing, and who points her finger, and 
 says within herself, "My father and mother made me marry that 
 man, and I am Miserable.” 
 
 It was agreed amongst those who had most right to come to an 
 
 agreement in the matter, that as a first step the Lord Francis Y-s 
 
 should betake himself to some other place of hiding, as more in 
 keeping with Mrs. Greenville’s honor; but that, with the consent 
 of her father and brother, he should be solemnly betrothed to her; 
 and that, so soon as the troubles were over, or that the price which 
 was upoq his head were taken off, he should become her husband. 
 And there was even a saving clause added, that if the national dis¬ 
 turbances unhappily continued, Mrs. Greenville should be privately 
 conveyed abroad, and that the Lord Francis should marry her so 
 soon after a certain lapse of time as he could conveniently gei be¬ 
 yond sea. My Lord Duke of B-m had nothing to say against 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 27 
 
 the match, loving his brother, as he did, very dearly; and so, in the 
 very roughest of times, this truest of true loves seemed to bid fair 
 to have a smooth course. 
 
 But alas the day! My Grandmother’s passion for the young Lord 
 was a verjr madness. On his part, he idolized her, calling her by 
 names and writing her letters that are nonsensical enough in com¬ 
 mon life, but which are not held to be foolish pleas in Love’s Chan 
 eery. When the boy and girl—for they were scarcely more— 
 parted, she gave him one of her rich brown tresses; he gave her one 
 of his own dainty love-locks. They broke a broad piece in halves 
 between them; each hung the fragment by a ribbon next the heart. 
 They swore eternal fidelity, devotion. Naught but death should 
 part them, they said. Foolish things to say and do, no doubt; but 
 I look at my grizzled old head in the glass, and remember that I 
 have said and done things quite as foolish forty—fifty years ago. 
 
 Nothing but Death "was to part them; and nothing but Death so 
 parted them. The Esquire Greenville, his business being brought 
 to a pleasant termination, having paid his Fine and gotten his Safe- 
 Conduct and his Redemption from Sequestration, betook himself 
 once more to the West. His daughter went with him, nourishing 
 her love and fondling it, and dwelling, syllable by syllable, on the 
 letters which the Lord Francis sent her from time to time. He 
 was in hopes, he said, to get away to Holland. 
 
 Then came that wicked business of the King’s murder. Mr. 
 Greenville, as became a loyal gentleman, was utterly dismayed at 
 that horrid crime; but to Arabella the news was as of the intelli¬ 
 gence of the death of some loved and revered friend. She wept, she 
 sobbed, she called on Heaven to shower down vengeance on the 
 Murderers of her gracious Prince. She had not heard from her be¬ 
 trothed for many days, and those who loved and watched her had 
 marked a strange wild way with her. 
 
 It was on the third of February that the dreadful news of the 
 Whitehall tragedy came to her father’s house. She was walking 
 on the next day very moodity in the garden, when the figure of one 
 booted and spurred, and with the stains of many days’ travel on his 
 dress, stood across her path. He was but a clown, a mere boor; he 
 had been a plowboy on her father’s lands, and had run away to 
 join Captain Richard, w r ho had made him a trumpeter in his troop. 
 What he had to say was told in clumsy speech, in hasty broken 
 accents, with sighs and stammerings and blubberings; but he told 
 Iiis tale too well. 
 
 The Lord Francis V-s and Captain Richard Greenville—Ara- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 bella’s lover, Arabella’s brother—were both Dead. On the eve of 
 the fatal thirtieth of January they had been taken captives in a tilt- 
 boat on the Thames, in which they were endeavoring to escape 
 down the river. They had at once been tried by a court-martial of 
 rebel officers; and on the thirtieth day of that black month, by ex¬ 
 press order sent from the Lord General Cromwell in London, 
 these two gallant and unfortunate gentlemen had been shot to death 
 by a file of musketry in the court-yard of Hampton Court Palace. 
 The trumpeter had by a marvel escaped, and lurked about Hamp¬ 
 ton till the dreadful deed was over. He had sought out the sergeant 
 of the firing party, and questioned him as to the last moments of the 
 condemned. The sergeant said that they died as Malignants, and 
 without showing any sign of penitence; but he could not gainsay 
 that their bearing was soldier-like. 
 
 Arabella heard this tale without moving. 
 
 “ Did the Captain—did my brother—say aught before they slew 
 him?” she asked. 
 
 “ Nowt but this, my lady: ‘ God forgive us all!’ ” 
 
 “ And the Lord Francis, said he aught?” 
 
 “ Ay; but.I dunno loike to tell.” 
 
 “ Say on.” 
 
 Twas t’ Sergeant tould un. A’ blessed the King, and would 
 hev’ t’ souldiers drink ’s health, but they wouldno’. And a’ 
 wouldno’ let un bandage his eyes; an’ jest befoar t’ red cwoatts 
 fired, a’ touk a long lock o’ leddy’s hair from’s pocket and kissed 
 un, and cried out ‘Bloud for Bloud!’ and then a’ died all straight 
 along.” 
 
 Mrs. Arabella Greenville drew from her bosom a long -wavy lock 
 of silken hair—his hair, poor boy!—and kissed it, and crying out 
 “ Blood for Blood!” fell down in the garden-path in a dead faint. 
 
 She did not Die, however, being spared for many Purposes, some 
 of them Terrible, until she was nearly ninety years of age. But 
 her first state was worse than death; she lying for many days in a 
 kind of trance or lethargy, and then waking up to raving madness. 
 For the best part of that year she was a perfect maniac, from whom 
 nothing could be got but gibberings and plungings, and ceaseless cries 
 of “ Blood for Blood!” The heir-at-law to the estate, now that the 
 Esquire’s son was dead, watched her madness with a keen avaricious 
 desire. He was a sour Parliament man, who had pinned his faith to 
 the Commonwealth, and done many Awakening things against the 
 Cavaliers, and he thought now that he should have his reward, and 
 Inherit. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 29 
 
 It was so destined, however, that my Grandmother shold recover 
 from that malady. On her beauty it left surprisingly few traces. 
 You could only tell the-cliange that had taken place in her by the 
 deathly paleness of her visage, by her never smiling, and by that 
 fierce expression in her eyes being now an abiding instead of a 
 passing one. Beyond these she was herself again; and after a 
 little while went to her domestic concerns, and chiefly to the culti¬ 
 vation of that pleasing art of painting in oils in which she had of 
 old time given such fair promise of excellence. Her father would 
 have had several most ingenious examples of History and Scripture 
 pieces by the Italian and Flemish masters bought for her to study 
 by—such copies being then very plentiful, by reason of the dis¬ 
 persing of the collections of many noblemen and gentlemen on the 
 King's side; but this she would not suffer, saying that it were 
 waste of time and money, and, with astonishing zeal, applied her¬ 
 self to the branch of portraiture. From a little miniature portrait 
 of her dead Lord, drawn by Mr. Cooper, she painted in large many 
 fair and noble presentments, varying them according to her humor— 
 now showing the Lord Francis in his panoply as a man of war, now 
 in a court habit, now in an embroidered night-gown and Turkish 
 cap, now leaning on the shoulder of her brother, the Captain, de¬ 
 ceased. And anon she would make a ghastly image of him lying 
 all along in the court-yard at Hampton Court, with the purple 
 bullet-marks on his white forehead, and a great crimson stain on 
 his bosom, just below his bands. This was the one she most loved 
 to look upon, although her father sorely pressed her to put it by, 
 and not dwell on so uncivil a theme, the more so as, in crimson 
 characters, on the background she had painted the words “ Blood 
 for Blood.” But whatever she did was now taken little account 
 of, for all thought her to be distraught. 
 
 By and by she fell to quite a new order in her painting. She 
 seemed to take infinite pleasure in making portraitures of Oliveii 
 Cromwell, who had by this time become Lord Protector of the 
 Commonwealth. She had never seen that bold bad man (the 
 splendor of whose mighty achievements must forever remain tar¬ 
 nished by his blood-guiltiness in the matter of the King’s death); but 
 from descriptions of his person, for which she eagerly sought, and 
 from bustos, pictures, and prints cut in brass, which she obtained 
 from Bristol and elsewhere, she produced some surprising resem¬ 
 blances of him who was now the Greatest Man in England. She 
 painted him at full and at half length—in full-face, profile, and 
 three-quarter; but although she would show her work to her inti- 
 
30 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 mates, and ask eagerly “ Is it like—is it like him?” she would never 
 part with one copy (and there were good store of time-servers ready 
 to buy the Protector’s picture at that time), nor could any tell how 
 she disposed of them. 
 
 This went on until the summer of the year 165?, when her father 
 gently put it to her that she had worn the willow long enough, and 
 would have had her ally herself with some gentleman of worth and 
 part s in that part of the country. For the poor Esquire desired 
 that she should be his heiress, and that a man-child should be born 
 to the Greenville estate, and thus the heir-at-law, who was a 
 wretched attorney at Bristol, and more bitter against kings than 
 ever, should not inherit. She was not to be moved, however, to¬ 
 ward marriage; saying softly that she was already wedded to her 
 
 Frank in Heaven—for so she spoke of the Lord Francis V-s, and 
 
 that her union had been blessed by her brother Dick, who was in 
 Heaven, too, with King Charles and all the Blessed Army of 
 Martyrs. And I have heard, indeed, that the unhappy business of 
 - the King’s death was the means of so crazing, or casting into a sad 
 celibacy and devouring melancholy, multitudes of comely young 
 women who were born for love and delights, and to be the happy 
 mothers of many children. 
 
 So, seeing that he could do nothing with her, and loath to use any 
 unhandsome pressure toward one whom he loved as the apple of his 
 eye, the Esquire began to think it might divert her mind to more 
 cheerful thoughts if she quitted for a season that part of the country 
 (for it was at Home that she had received the dreadful news of her 
 misfortune); and, Sir Fortunatus Geddings and his family being 
 extremely willing to receive her, and do her honor, he dispatched 
 Arabella to London, under protection of Mr. Landrail, his steward, 
 a neighbor of his, Sir Hardress Eustis lending his Coach for the 
 journey. 
 
 Being now come to London, every means which art could devise, 
 or kindness could imagine, were made use of by Sir Fortunatus, his 
 wife, and daughter, to make Arabella’s life happier. But I should 
 tell you a strange tiling that came about at her father’s house the 
 day after she left it for the town. Mr. Greenville chanced to go 
 in a certain long building by the side of his pleasure pond that was 
 used as a boat-house, when, to his amazement, he sees, piled up 
 against the wall, a number of pictures, some completed, some but 
 half finished, but all representing the Lord Protector Cromwell. 
 But the strangest thing about them was, that in every picture the 
 canvas about the head was pricked through and through in scores 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 31 
 
 of places with very fine sharp holes, and, looking around in his 
 marvel, he found an arbalest or cross-bow, with some very sharp 
 bolts, and was so led to conjecture that some one had been setting 
 these heads of the Protector up as a target, and shooting bolts at 
 them. He was at first minded to send an express after his daughter 
 to London to question her if she knew aught of the matter; but on 
 second thoughts he desisted, remembering that in the Message, 
 almost (as the times stood; there was Treason, and concluding that, 
 after all, it might be but some idle fancy of Arabella, and part of 
 the demi-craze under which she labored. For there could be no 
 manner of doubt that the pictures, if not the holes in them, were of 
 her handiwork. 
 
 Meanwhile Arabella was being entertained in the stateliest man¬ 
 ner by Sir Fortunatus Geddings, who stood in great favor with the 
 Government, and had, during the troubles, assisted the Houses with 
 large sums of money. There were then not many sports or amuse¬ 
 ments wherewith a sorrowing maiden could be diverted; for the b 
 temper of England’s Rulers was against vain pastimes and junket" 
 ings. The Maypoles had been pulled down; the players whipped 
 and banished; the bear and bull-baitings, ancl even the mere harm¬ 
 less minstrelsy and ballad-singing of the streets, all rigorously pulled 
 down. But whatever the worthy Turkey merchant and his house¬ 
 hold could do in the way of carrying Arabella about to suppers* 
 christenings, country gatherings, and so forth, was cheerfully and 
 courteously done. Sir Fortunatus maintained a coach (for he wag 
 one of the richest merchants in the City of London), and in this 
 conveyance Arabella was ofttimes taken to drive in Hyde Park, or 
 toward the Uxbridge Road. ’Twas on one of these occasions that 
 she first saw the Protector, who likewise was in his coach, drawn 
 by eight Holstein mares, and attended by a troop of Horse, very 
 gallantly appointed, with scarlet livery coats, bright gorgets and 
 back-pieces, and red plumes in their hats. 
 
 “He is very like, very like,” she murmured, looking long and 
 earnestly at the grand cavalcade. 
 
 “ Like unto Whom, my dear?” asked Mrs. Nancy Geddings, the 
 youngest daughter of Sir Fortunatus, who was her companion in 
 the coach that day. 
 
 “ Very like unto him who is at Home in the West yonder,” she 
 made answer. “ Now take me back to Ludgate, Nancy sweet, for 
 I am sick.” 
 
 She was to be humored in everything, and she was taken home 
 as she desired. It chanced, a few days after this, that word came 
 
32 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 that his Highness the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of 
 England (for to such State had Oliver grown) designed to visit the 
 City, to dine with llie citizens at Guildhall. There was to he a 
 great pageant. He was to he met at Temple Bar by the Mayor and 
 Aldermen, and to he escorted toward Cheapside hy those city 
 Trainbands which had done such execution on the Parliament side 
 during the wars, and hy the Companies with their Livery banners. 
 Foreign embassadors were to bear him company; for Oliver was 
 then at the height of his power, and had made the name of England 
 dreaded, and even his own prowess respected, by all nations that 
 were beyond sea. He was to hear a sermon at Bow Church at 
 noon, and at two o’clock—for the preacher was to be Mr. Hugh 
 Peters, who always gave his congregation a double turn of the 
 hour-glass—he was to dine at the Guildhall, where I know not how 
 many geese, bustards, capons, pheasants, ruffs and reeves, sirloins, 
 shoulders of veal, pasties, sweet puddings, jellies, and custards, 
 with good stores of Rhenish and Canary, and Bordelais and Bur- 
 • gundian wines, were provided to furnish a banquet worthy of the 
 day. For although the Protectorate was a stern sad period, and 
 Oliver was (or had schooled himself to be) a temperate man, the 
 citizens had not quite forgotten their love of good cheer; and the 
 Protector himself was not averse from the keeping up some state 
 and splendor, Whitehall being now well-nigh as splendid as in the 
 late King’s time, and his Highness sitting with his make-believe 
 lords around him (Lisle, Whilelocke, and the rest), and eating his 
 meat to the sound of Trumpets, and being otherwise puffed up with 
 Vanity. 
 
 The good folks with whom Arabella was sojourning thought it 
 might help to cure her of her sad moping ways if she saw the grand 
 pageant go by, and mingled in the merriment and feasting which 
 the ladies of Sir Fortunatus’s family—the Knight himself being 
 bidden to the Guildhall—proposed to give their neighbors on the 
 day when Oliver came into the City. To this intent, llie windows 
 of their house without Ludgate were all taken out of their frames, 
 and the casements themselves hung with rich cloths and tapestries, 
 and decked with banners. And an open house was kept, literally, 
 meats and wines and sweets being set out in every room, even to 
 the bed-chambers, and all of the Turkey merchant’s acquaintance 
 being bidden to come in and help themselves, and take a squeeze at 
 the windows to see his Highness go by. Only one window on the 
 first-floor was set apart, and here sat the ladies of the family, with 
 Mistress Deborah Clay, the Remembrancer’s lady, and one that as 
 
CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 33 
 
 sister to a Judge of Commonwealth’s Bench, and Arabella Green¬ 
 ville, who was for a wonder quite cheerful and sprightly that 
 morning, and who had -for her neighbor one Lady Lisle, the wife 
 of John Lisle, one of Cromwell’s Chief Councilors and Commis 
 sioners of the Great Seal.* 
 
 The time that passed between their taking seats and the coming 
 of the pageant was passed pleasantly enough; not in drinking of 
 healths, which practice was then considered as closely akin to an 
 unlawful thing, but in laughing and quaffing, and whispering of 
 many jests. For I have usually found that, be the Rule of Church 
 and State ever so sour and stern, folks will laugh and quaff and jest 
 on the sly, and be merry in the green tree, if they are forced to be 
 sad in the dry. 
 
 There was a gentleman standing behind Arabella, a counselor of 
 Lincoln’s Inn I think, who was telling a droll story of Mr. Presi¬ 
 dent Bradshaw to his friend from the Temple. Not greatly a 
 person of whom to relate merry tales, I should think, that terrible 
 Bencher, who sat at the head of the High Commission, clothed in 
 his scarlet robe, and passed judgment upon his lord the King. But 
 still these gentlemen laughed loud and long, as one told the other 
 how the President lay very sick, sick almost to death, at his country 
 house; and how, he being one that was in the Commission of the 
 Chancellorship, had taken them away with him, and would by no 
 means surrender them, keeping them under his pillow, night and 
 day; wherefore one of his brother commissioners was fain to seek 
 him out, and press him hard to give up the seals, saying that the 
 business of the nation was at a standstill, for they could neither 
 seal patents nor pardons. But all in vain, Bradshaw crying out in 
 a voice that, though weak, was still terrible, that he would never 
 give them up, but would carry them with him into the next world; 
 whereat quoth the other commissioner, “ By —, Mr. President, 
 they will certainly melt if you do .” And at this tale the gentleman 
 from Lincoln’s Inn and he from the Temple both laughed so, that 
 Arabella, who had been listening without eavesdropping, burst into 
 a tit of laughter, too; only my Lady Lisle (who had likewise heard 
 
 * This Lady Lisle was a very virulent partisan woman, and, according to my 
 Grandmother’s showing, was so bitter against the Crown that, being taken 
 when a young woman lo -of King Charles, and seeing one who 
 
 pressed to the scaffold after the blow to dip her Martyr’s blood 
 
 she cried out “that she needed no such relic; but that she WK&T 
 drink the Tyrant’s blood.” This is the same Alice Lisle who afterward, m King 
 James’s time, suffered at Winchester for harboring two of the Western Rebels. 
 
 2 - 
 
34 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 tlie story) regarded her with a very grim and dissatisfied counte¬ 
 nance, and murmured that she thought a little trailing up before the 
 Council, and committing to the Gate-house, would do some popin¬ 
 jays some good, and curfe them of telling tales as treasonable as they 
 were scurrilous. 
 
 But now came a great noise of trumpets and hautboys and drums, 
 and the great pageant came streaming up toward Ludgate, a troop 
 . of Oliver’s own Body-Guard on iron-gray chargers clearing the way, 
 which they did with scant respect for the lives and limbs of the 
 crowd, and with very little scruple either in bruising the Trainbands 
 with their horses’ hoofs and the flat of their broadswords. As 
 Arabella leaned forward to see the show approach, something hard, 
 and it would seem of metal, that she carried beneath her mantle, 
 struck against the arm of my Lady Lisle, who, being a woman of 
 somewhat quick temper, cried out, 
 
 ‘ ‘ Methinks that you carry a pocket-flask with you, Mistress 
 Greenville, instead of a vial of essences. That which you have 
 must hold a pint at least.” 
 
 “ I do carry such a flask,” answered Arabella, “ and, please God, 
 there are those here to-day who shall drink of it even to the Dregs.” 
 
 This speech was afterward remembered against her as a proof of 
 her Intent. 
 
 All, however, were speedily too busy with watching the show go 
 by to take much heed of any word passage between the two women. 
 Now it was Mistress Deborah Clay pointing out the Remembrancer 
 to her gossip; now the flaunting banners of the Companies, now the 
 velvet robes of the Lord of the Council were looked upon; now a 
 great cry arose that his Highness was coming. 
 
 He came in his coach drawn by eight Holstein mares, one of his 
 lords by his side, and his two chaplains, with a gentleman of the 
 bed-chamber sitting over against. He wore a rich suit of brown 
 velvet puffed with white satin, a bright gorget of silver—men said 
 that he wore mail beneath his ciothes—boots and gauntlets of yellow 
 Spanish, a great baldric of cloth-of-gold, and in his hat a buckle of 
 diamonds and a red feather. Yet, bravely as he was attired, those 
 who knew him declared that they had never seen Oliver, look so 
 care-worn and so miserable as he did that day. 
 
 By a kind of & ,ance upward as he passed the 
 
 n— ■ 1 urke 7 merchant, and those cruel eyes met the fierce 
 
 gaze of Arabella Greenville. 
 
 “ Blood for Blood! ” she cried out in a loud clear voice; and she 
 
CAPTAIX DANGEROUS. 
 
 35 
 
 drew a Pist ol from the folds of her mantle, and tired downward, 
 and with unerring aim, at the Protector’s head. 
 
 My Lady Lisle saw the deed done. “ Jezebel!” she shrieked, 
 striking the weapon from Arabella’s hand. 
 
 Oliver escaped unharmed, but by an almost miracle. The bullet 
 had struck him, as it was aimed, directly in the center of his fore¬ 
 head, he wearing his hat much slouched over his brow; but it had 
 struck—not his skull, but the diamond buckle, and glancing off 
 from that hard mass, sped out of the coach window again, on what 
 errand none could tell, for it was heard of no more. I have often 
 wondered what became of all the bullets I have let fly. 
 
 The stoppage of the coach; the Protector half stunned; the 
 chaplain paralyzed with fear; the Trainbands in a frenzy—half of 
 terror, half of strong drink—firing off their pieces hap-hazard at 
 the windows, and shouting out that this was a plot of the Papists 
 or the Malignants; the crowd surging, 6he Body-Guard galloping to 
 and fro; the poor standard-bearers tripping themselves up with 
 their own poles—all this made a mad turmoil in the street without 
 Ludgate. But the Protector had speedily found all his senses, and 
 had whispered a word or two to a certain Sergeant in whom he 
 placed great trust, and pointed his finger to a certain window. 
 Then the Sergeant being gone away, orders were given for the 
 pageant to move on; and through Ludgate, and by Paul’s, and up 
 Cheape, and to Bow Church, it moved accordingly. Mr. Hugh 
 Peters preached for two hours as though nothing had happened. 
 Being doubtless under instructions, he made not the slightest allu¬ 
 sion to the late tragic Attempt; and at the banquet afterward at the 
 Guildhall there were only a few trifling rumors that his Highness 
 had been shot at by a mad woman from a window in Fleet Street; 
 denial, however, being speedily given to this by persons in Author¬ 
 ity, who declared that the disturbance without Ludgate had arisen 
 simply from a drunken soldier of the Trainbands firing his mus- 
 ketoon into the air for Joy. 
 
 But the Sergeant, with some soldiers of the Protector’s own, 
 walked tranquilly into the house of Sir Fortunatus Geddings, and 
 jnto the upper chamber, where the would-be Avenger of Blood was 
 surrounded by a throng of men and women gazing upon her, half 
 in horror, and half in admiration. The Sergeant beckoned to her, 
 and she arose without a murmur, and went with him and the 
 soldiers, two only being left as sentinels, to see that no one stirred 
 from the house till orders came. By this time, from Ludgate to 
 Blackfriars all was soldiers, the crowd being thrust away east and 
 
36 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 west: and between a lane of pikemen, Arabella was brought into 
 the street, hurried through the narrow lanes behind Apothecaries’ 
 Hall, and so through Ihe alleys to Blackfriars Stairs, where a barge 
 was in waiting, which bore her swiftly away to Whitehall. 
 
 “ You have flown at high game, mistress,” was the only remark 
 made to her by the Sergeant. 
 
 She was locked up for many hours in an inner chamber, the 
 windows being closed, and a lamp set on the table. They bound 
 her, but, mindful of her sex and youth, not in fetters, or even with 
 ropes, contenting themselves with fastening her arms tightly behind 
 her with the Sergeant’s silken sash. For the Sergeant was of 
 Cromwell’s own guard, and was of great authority. 
 
 At about nine at night the Sergeant and two soldiers came for 
 her, and so brought her, through many corridors, to Cromwell’s 
 own chamber, where she found him stjll with his hat and baldric 
 on, sitting at a table covered with green velvet. 
 
 “What prompted thee to seek my Life?” he asked, without 
 anger, but in a slow, cold, searching voice. 
 
 “ Blood for Blood!” she answered, with undaunted mien. 
 
 “ What evil have 1 done thee that thou shouldst seek my blood?” 
 
 “ What evil—what evil, Moloch?—all! Thou hast slain the King 
 my Lord and master. Thou hast slain the dear brother who was 
 my playmate, and my father’s hope and pride. Thou hast slam the 
 sweet and gallant youth who was to have been my husband. ’ ’ 
 
 “ Thou art that Arabella Greenville, then, the daughter of the 
 wavering half-hearted Esquire of the West?” 
 
 “ I am the daughter of a gentleman of long descent. I am 
 Arabella Greenville: and I cry for vengeance for the blood of 
 Charles Stuart, for the blood of Richard Greenville, for the blood 
 of Francis Yilliers. Blood for Blood!” 
 
 That terrible gleam of Madness leaped out of her blue eyes, and, 
 all bound as she was, she rushed toward the Protector as though in 
 her fury she would have spurned him with her foot, or torn him 
 with her teeth. The Sergeant for his part made as though he 
 would have drawn his sword upon her: but Oliver laid his hand on 
 the arm of his officer, and bade him forbear. 
 
 “Leave the maiden alone with me,” he said, calmly; “wait 
 within call. She can do no harm.” Then, when the soldiers had 
 withdrawn, he walked to and fro in the room for many minutes, 
 ever and anon turning his head and gazing fixedly on the prisoner, 
 who stood erect, her head high, her hands, for all their bonds, 
 clinched in defiance. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 37 
 
 “ Thou knowest, ’’ Tic said, “ that thy Life is forfeit?” 
 
 “ I care not. The sooner the better. I ask but one Mercy; that 
 you send me not to Tyburn, but to Hampton Court: there to be 
 shot to death in the court-yard by a file of musketeers?” 
 
 44 Wherefore to Hampton?” 
 
 44 Because it was there you murdered my Lover and my Brother.” 
 
 44 1 remember,” the Protector said, bowing his head. 44 They 
 were rare Malignants, both. I remember; it was on the same 
 thirtieth of January that Charles Stuart died the death. But 
 shouldst thou not, too, bear in mind that Vengeance is not thine, 
 but the Lord’s?” 
 
 44 Blood for Blood!” 
 
 44 Thou art a maiden of a stern Resolve and a strong Will,” said 
 {he Protector, musingly. 44 If thou art pardoned, wilt thou promise 
 repentance and amendment?” 
 
 44 Blood for Blood!” 
 
 44 Poor distraught creature,” this once cruel man made answer, 
 44 1 will have no blood of thine. I have had enough,” he con¬ 
 tinued, with a dark look and a deep sigh: 44 1 am weary; and Blood 
 will have Blood. But that my life was in Mercy saved for the 
 weal of these kingdoms, thou might st have done with me, Arabella 
 Greenville, according to thy desires. ’ ’ 
 
 He paused as though for some expression of sorrow; but she was 
 silent. 
 
 44 Thou art hardened,” he resumed; 44 it. maybe that there are 
 things that can not be forgiven.” 
 
 4 4 There are, ’ ’ she said, firmly. 
 
 44 1 spare thy life,” the Lord Protector continued; 44 but, Arabella 
 Greenville, thou must go into Captivity. Until I am Dead, we two 
 can not be at large together. But I will not doom thee to a solitary 
 prison. Thou shalt have a companion in durance. Yes,” he 
 ended, speaking between his teeth, and Inore to himself than to 
 her, 44 she shall join Him yonder in his life-long prison. Blood for 
 Blood; the Slayer and the Avenger shall be together.” 
 
 She was taken back to her place of confinement, where meat 
 and drink were placed before her, and a tiring-woman attended her 
 with a change of garments. And at day-break the next morning 
 she was taken away in a litter toward Colchester in Essex.* 
 
 * Those desirous of learning fuller particulars of my Grandmother’s History, 
 or anxious to satisfy themselves that I have not Lied, should consult a book 
 called “ The Travels of Edward Brown, Esquire,” that is now in the Great 
 Library at Montague House. Mr. Brown is in most things curiously exact; but 
 he errs in stating that Mrs. Greenville’s name was Letitia—it was Arabella. 
 
38 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 CHAPTER THE FOURTH. 
 
 MY GRANDMOTHER DIES, AND I AM LEFT ALONE, WITHOUT SO 
 
 MUCH AS A NAME. 
 
 I have sat over against Death unnumbered times in the course of 
 a long and perilous life, and he has appeared to me in almost every 
 shape; but I shall never forget that Thirtieth of January in the 
 year ’20, when my Grandmother died. I have seen men all gashed 
 and cloven about—a very mire of blood and wounds—and heads 
 lying about on the floor like ninepins, among the Turks, where a 
 man’s life is as cheap as the Half-penny Hatch. I was with that 
 famous Commander Baron Trenck * when his Pandours—of whom 
 I was one—broke into Mutiny. He drew a pistol from his belt, and 
 said, “ I shall decimate you.” And he began to count Ten, “ one, 
 two, three, four, ’ ’ and so on, till he came to the tenth man, whom 
 he shot Dead. And then he took to counting again, until he ar¬ 
 rived at the second Tenth. That man’s brains he also blew out. I 
 was the tenth of the third batch, but I never blenched. Trenck 
 happily held his hand before he came to Me. The Pandours cried 
 out that they would submit, although I never spoke a word; he 
 forgave us; and I had a flask of Tokay with him in his tent that 
 very after-dinner. I have seen a man keel-hauled at sea, and 
 brought up on the other side, his face all larded with barnacles like 
 a Shrove-:ide capon. Thrice I have stood beneath the yardarm with 
 the rope round my neck (owing to a king’s ship mistaking the char¬ 
 acter of my vessel).f I have seen men scourged till the muscles of 
 their backs were laid bare as in a Theater of Anatomy; I have 
 watched women’s limbs crackle and frizzle in the flames at an Act 
 of Faith, with the King and Court—ay, and the court-ladies too 
 —looking on. I stood by when that poor mad wretch Damiens was 
 pulled to pieces by horses in the Gr&ve. I have seen what the 
 plague could do in the galleys at Marseilles. Death and I have been 
 boon companions and bedfellows. He has danced a jig with me on 
 a plank, and ridden bodkin, and gone snacks with me for a lump 
 of horseflesh in a beleaguered town; but no man can say that John 
 Dangerous had aught but a bold face to show that Phantom who 
 frights nursemaids and rich idle.people so. 
 
 * The Austrian, not the Prussian Trenck.— Ed. 
 
 t This does not precisely tally with the Captain’s disclaimer of feeling any 
 apprehension when passing Execution Dock.— Ed, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 39 
 
 And yet, now, I can recall tlie cold shudder that passed through 
 my young veins when my Grandmother died. Of all days, too, 
 that the Thirtieth of January should have been ordered for her pass¬ 
 ing away! It was midwinter, and the streets were white with In¬ 
 nocent Snow when she was taken ill. She had not been one of 
 those trifling and trivanting gentlewomen that pull diseases on to , 
 their pates with drums and routs, and late hours, and hot rooms, 
 and carding, and distilled waters. She had ever been of a most sober 
 conversation and temperate habit; so that the prodigious age she 
 reached became less of a wonder, and the tranquillity with which 
 her spirit left this darksome house of clay seemed mercifully nat¬ 
 ural. They had noticed, so early as the autumn of T9, that she 
 was decaying; yet had the roots of life stricken so strongly into 
 earth as to defy that Woodman who pins his faith to shaking blasts 
 at first, but when he finds that windfalls will not serve his turn, 
 and that although leaves decay, and branches are swept away, and 
 the very bark is stripped off, the tree dies not, takes heart of grace, 
 and lays about him with his Axe. Then one blow with the sharp 
 suffices. So for many months Death ssemed to let her be, as 
 though he sat down quietly by her side, nursing his bony chin, and 
 saying, “ She is very old and weak; yet a little, and she must surely 
 be mine.” Mistress Talmash appeared to me, in the fantastic 
 imagination of a solitary childhood, to take such a part, and play it 
 to the Very Death; and there were sidelong glances from her eyes 
 and pressures of her lips, and a thrusting forth of her hands when 
 the cordial or the potion was to be given, that seemed to murmur, 
 
 “ Still does she Tarry, and still do I Wait.” This gentlewoman 
 was never hard or impatient with my Grandmother; but toward the 
 closing scene, for all the outward deference she observed toward 
 her, ’twas she who commanded, and the Unknown Lady who 
 obeyed. Nor did I fail to mark that her bearing was toward me 
 fuller of a kind of stern authority than she had of aforetime pre¬ 
 sumed to show, and that she seemed to be waiting for me too, that 
 she might work her will upon me. 
 
 The ecclesiastic Father Ruddlestone was daily, and for many 
 hours, closeted with my kinswoman and benefactress; and I often, 
 when admitted to her presence after one of these parleys, found her 
 much dejected, and in Tears. He had always maintained a ghostly 
 sway over her, and was in these latter days stern with her almost 
 to harshness. And although I have ever disdained eavesdropping 
 and couching in covert places to hear the foregatherings of my bet¬ 
 ters (which some honorable persons in the world’s reckoning scorn 
 
CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 not to do), it was by Chance, and not by Design, that, playing one 
 wintery day in the Withdrawing-room adjoining the closet where 
 my Grandmother still sat among her relics, I heard high words— 
 high, at least, as they affected one person, for the lady’s rose not 
 above a mild complaint; and Falher Ruddlestone coming out, said 
 in an angry tone: 
 
 “ My uncle saved the King’s life when he was in the Oak, and 
 his soul when he was at Whitehall; and I will do his bidding by 
 you now. ’ ’ 
 
 ” The Lord’s will be done, not mine,” my Grandmother said 
 meekly. 
 
 Then Father Ruddlestone passed into the Withdrawing-room, and 
 seeing me on a footstool, playing it is true at the Battle of Hochstedt 
 with some leaden soldiers, and two wooden puppets for the Duke 
 and Prince Eugene, but still all agape at the strange wmls that 
 had hit my sense, he catches me a buffet on the ear, bidding me 
 mind my play, and not listen, else I should hear no good of myself, 
 or of what an osier wand might haply do to me. And that a change 
 was coming was manifest even in this rude-speech; for my Grand¬ 
 mother, albeit of the wise King’s mind on the proper ordering of 
 children, and showing that she did not hate me when I needed 
 chastening, would never suffer her Domestics, even to the highest, 
 to lay a finger upon me. 
 
 It was after these things, and while I was crying out, more in 
 anger than with the smart of the blow, that she called me into her 
 closet and soothed me, giving me to eat of that much-prized sweet¬ 
 meat she said was once such a favorite solace with Queen Mary of 
 Modena, consort of the late King James, and which she only pro¬ 
 duced on rare occasions. And then she bewailed my hurt, but bade 
 me not vex her Director, who was a man of much holiness, full, 
 when we were contrite, of healing and quieting words; but then, of 
 a sudden, nipping me pretty sharply by the arm, she said: 
 
 “ Child, I charge thee that thou abandon that fair false race, and 
 trust no man whose name is Stuart, and abide not by their fatal 
 creed.” In remembrance of which, although I am by descent a 
 Cavalier, and bound by many bonds to the old Noble House—and 
 surely there was never a Prince that carried about him more of the 
 
 far-bearing blaze of Majesty than the Chevalier de St. G--, and 
 
 bears it still, all broken as he is, in his Italian retreat—I have ever 
 upheld the illustrious House of Brunswick and the Protestant Suc¬ 
 cession as by Law Established. And as the barking of a dog do I 
 contemn those scurril flouts and obloquies which have of old times 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 41 
 
 tossed me upon tongues, and said of me that I should play fast and 
 loose with Jacobites and Hanoverians, drinking the King over the 
 Water on my knees at night, and going down to the Cockpit to pour 
 news of Jacobites and recusants and other suspected persons into 
 the ears of Mr. Secretary in the morning. . Treason is Death by the 
 Law, and legal testimony is not to be gainsaid; but I abhor those 
 Iscariot-minded wretches, with faces like those who Torture the 
 Saints in old Hangings, who cry, aha! against the sanctuaries, and 
 trot about to bear false witness.* 
 
 There were no more quarrels between my Grandmother and her 
 Director. Thenceforth Father Ruddlestone ruled over her; and one 
 proof of his supremacy was, that she forewent the use of that Com¬ 
 mon Prayer-Book of our Anglican Church which had been her 
 constant companion. From which I conjecture that, after long 
 wavering and temporizing, even to the length of having the Father 
 in her household, she had at length returned to or adopted the 
 ancient faith. But although the Substance of our Ritual was now 
 denied her, she was permitted to retain its Shadow; and for hours 
 would sit gazing upon the torn-off cover of the book, with its de¬ 
 vice of the crown and crossed axes, in sad memory of K. C. I st . 
 
 A most mournful Christmas found her still growing whiter and 
 weaker, and nearer her End. At this ordinarily joyful season of 
 the year, it was her commendable custom to give great alms gway 
 to the poor—among whom at all times she was a very DorcaSfn-bc- 
 stowing not only gifts of money to the clergy for division apfcong 
 the needy, but sending also a dole of a hundred shillings tothe. $ oor 
 prisoners in the Marslialsea, as many to Ludgate, apd,#ie n (ffite- 
 house, and the Fleet—surely prisons for debt were,, as plqn^fql as 
 blackberries when I was young!—and giving away besi^esf large 
 store of bread, meat, and blankets at her own jdpqr ip Jl^ppver 
 Square; a custom then pleasantly common among people of qqaiity, 
 but now—when your parish Overseer, forsooth, eats ,up4li.e >v YGry 
 marrow of the poor—fallen sadly into disuse. They are .fever 
 striking Poor’s Rates against householders, and will not Jake clip¬ 
 ped money; whereas in my day Private Charity, and a King s let¬ 
 ter in aid from the pulpit now and then, were enough; and,,for,my 
 
 i Pint * ) 
 
 * I do not find it in the memoirs of his adventures, but in an old volume.of the 
 Annual Register I find that, in the year 1778, one Captain Dangerous gave im-^ ( 
 portant evidence for the crown against poor Mr. Tremenheere, who suffered^ o 
 Tyburn for fetching and carrying between the French King and some ma^ai^ 
 tents in this country, notably for giving information as to the condition pf 
 
 $ock-yar<fe— 
 
 % 
 V 
 
 % 
 
 
 a 
 
 v> 
 
 r o 
 
 °<y 
 
 * 
 
42 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 part, I would sooner see a poor rogue soundly firked at the post, and 
 then comforted with a bellyful of bread and cheese and beer by the 
 constable, and so passed on to his belongings, than that he should be 
 clapped up in a workhouse, to pick oakum and suck his paws like 
 a bear, while Master Overseer gets tun-stomached over shoulder of 
 veal and burned brandy at vestry-dinners. For it is well known, 
 to the shame of Authority, that these things all come out of the 
 Poor Rate. 
 
 Ere my Grandmother was brought so low, she would sit in state 
 on almsgiving morning, which was the day after Christmas; and 
 the more decent of her bedesmen and bedeswomen would be admit¬ 
 ted to her presence to pay their duty, and drink her health in a cup 
 of warm ale on the staircase. Also the little children from Lady 
 Viellcastel’s charity-school would be brought to her by their gov- 
 emante to have cakes and new groats given to them, and to sing 
 one of those sweet tender Christmas hymns which surely fall upon 
 a man’s heart like sweet-scented balsam on a wound. And the 
 beadle of St. George’s would bring a great bowpot of such hues as 
 Christmas would lend itself to, and have a bottle of wine and a 
 bright broad guinea for his fee; while his Reverence the rector 
 would attend with a suitable present—such as a satin work-bag or 
 a Good Book, the cover ’broidered by his daughters—and, when he 
 sat at meat, find a bank-bill under his platter, which was always of 
 silver. And I warrant you his Reverence’s eyes twinkled as much at 
 tiie bill as at the plum-porridge, and that he feigned not to see 
 Father Ruddlestone, if perchance he met that foreign person on 
 the staircase, or in the store-office where Mistress Nancy Talmash 
 kept mifny a toothsome cordial and heart-warming strong water. 
 
 This dismal Christmas none of these pleasant things were done. 
 My Lady gave one Sum to her steward, Mr. Cadwallader, and bade 
 him dispose of it according to his best judgment among the afflicted, 
 bearing not. their creed or politics or parish in mind, but their ne¬ 
 cessities. And I was bereft of a joyful day; for in ordinary she 
 would be pleased that I should be her little almoner, and hand the 
 purses with the groats in them to the poor almsfolk. What has be¬ 
 come, 1 wonder, of those good old customs of giving away things 
 at Christmas-tides? Where is the Lord Mayor’s dole of beef-pies to 
 v the vagrant people that lurk in St. Martin’s-le-Grand, that new 
 satia? Where i 3 the Queen’s gift of an hundred pounds to the 
 ts^essed people who took up quarters in Somerset House? Where 
 the thousand guineas which the Majesty of England was used 
 ^end every New-Year’s morning to the High Bailiff of Westmin- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 43 
 
 ster to be parted among the poor of the Liberty? Nothing seems to 
 be given nowadays. ’Tis more caning than cakes that is gotten by 
 the charity children; and master Collector, the Jackanapes, is for¬ 
 ever knocking at my door for Poor’s Rates. 
 
 In the middle of January my Grandmother was yet weaker. 
 Straw was laid before her door, and daily prayers—for of course the , 
 Rector knew nothing about Father Ruddlestone—were put up for 
 her at St. George’s. And I think also she was not forgotten in the 
 orisons of those who attended the chapel of the Venetian Envoy, 
 and in that permitted to the use of the French Ambassador. Dr. 
 Vigors was now daily in attendance, with many other learned physi¬ 
 cians, who almost fought in the antechambers on the treatment to 
 be observed toward this sick person. One was for cataplasms of 
 bran and Venice turpentine, another for putting live pigeons to her 
 feet, another for a potion of hot wine strained through gold-leaf 
 and mingled with hellebore and chips of mandrake. Warwick Lane 
 suggested mint-tea, and Pall Mall was all for bleeding. This Pall 
 Mall physician was about the most passionate little man, with the 
 biggest ruffles and the tallest gold-headed cane I ever saw. His 
 name was Toobey. 
 
 “ Blood, sir! there’s nothing like blood!” he would cry to Dr. 
 Vigors; and he cried out for “ blood, sir,” till you might fancy 
 that he was a butcher or a herald-at-arms, or a housewife making 
 black puddings. 
 
 Says Dr. Vigors in a Rage, “ You are nothing but a barber- 
 surgeon, brother, and learned shaving on a sheep’s head, and phle¬ 
 botomy on a cow that had the falling fever.” 
 
 “ Mountebank and quacksalver!” answers my passionate gentle¬ 
 man, “ you bought your diploma from one that forges seamen’s 
 certificates in Sopar Lane!” 
 
 “ Go to,- metamorphosed and two-legged ass! Where is your 
 worship’s stage in the Stocks Market, with pills to purge the vapors, 
 and powders to make my lady in love with her footman, and a lying 
 proclamation on every post, and a black boy behind you to beat on 
 the cymbals when you draw out teeth with the kitchen pliers.” 
 
 “ Rogue!” screams Dr. Toobey, “ but for the worshipful house 
 we are in, I would batoon you to a mummy.” 
 
 “Mummy forsooth!” the other retorts; “ Mummy with a mur¬ 
 rain! Why, you dug up your grandmother, and pounded her up 
 with conserve of myrrh, and called the stuff King Pharaoh, that 
 was sovereign to cure the strangury.” 
 
 “ Better to do that,” quoth Toobey, calming down into mere give 
 
44 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 and take—for lie had, in truth, done some droll things in mummy 
 medicaments— ‘ than to have been a Fleet parson, that was forced 
 to sell ale and couple beggars for a living, and turned doctor when 
 he had cured a bad leg for one that had lain too long in the bilboes. ’ ’ 
 
 This was too much for Dr. Vigors, who had once been in orders, 
 and was still a Nonjuror, winked at, for his skill’s sake, by Author¬ 
 ity. He was for rushing on the Pall Mall mummy-doctor and 
 tousling of his wig, when Mistress Talmash came out of her lady’s 
 closet, and told them that she was fainting. This was the way that 
 doctors disagreed when I was young, and I fancy that they don’t 
 agree much better now. 
 
 She lingered on, however, still resolutely refusing to take to her 
 bed, and seeing me, if only for a moment, every day, for yet an¬ 
 other fortnight. On the Twentieth of January, it was her humor 
 to receive the visit of a certain great nobleman. Very many of the 
 quality had daily waited upon her, or had sent their gentlemen to 
 inquire after her; but for many weeks she had seen none but her 
 own household. The nobleman I speak of had lately come down 
 from the Bath, where he had been taking the waters; for he was 
 full of years, and of Glory, and of infirmities. A message went to 
 his grand house in Pall Mall, and he presently waited on my Grand¬ 
 mother. He was closeted with her for an hour, when the tap of 
 my Grandmother’s cane against the wainscot summoned Mistress 
 Talmash, and she, doing her errand, brought me into the presence. 
 
 “My Lord,” whispered my Grandmother, as she drew me 
 toward her, and gave me a kiss that was almost of a whisper too. 
 so feebly geatle was it—“My Lord Duke, will you be pleased to 
 lay your hand on the boy’s head and give him your blessing, and 
 it will make him Brave. ’ ’ 
 
 He smiled sadly at her fancy, but did as she entreated. He laid 
 a hand that was all covered with jeweled rings, and that shook al¬ 
 most as much as my Grandmother’s, on my locks, and prattled out 
 to me something about being a good boy and not playing cards. 
 He, too, was almost gone. He had a mighty wig, and velvet clothes 
 all covered with gold lace, a diamond star, and broad blue ribbon; 
 but his poor swollen legs were swathed in flannel, and he was so 
 feeble that he had to be helped down-stairs by two lackeys. I too 
 ran down-stairs unchecked, and saw him helped, tottering, into his 
 chair, a company of the Foot-guards surrounding it; for he was 
 much misliked by the mobile at that time, and few cried, God bless 
 him! Indeed, as the company moved away, I heard a ragged fel¬ 
 low (who should have been laid by the heels for it) cry, “ There 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 45 
 
 goes Starvation Jack, that fed his soldiers on boiled bricks and 
 baked mortar. ’ ’ 
 
 “ He is a Whig now,” said my Grandmother to me, when I re¬ 
 joined her; “ but he was of the bravest among men, and in the old 
 days loved the true King dearly.” 
 
 When this man was young and poor, the mobile used to call 
 him “ Handsome Jack.” When he was rich and old and famous, 
 he was “ Starvation Jack ” to them. And of such are the caprices 
 of a vain, precipitate age. But I am glad I saw him. Whig and 
 pinchpenny as he was. I am proud of having seen this Great Cap¬ 
 tain and Prince of the Holy Roman Empire. The King of Prussia, 
 the Duke of Cumberland, my Lord George Sackville, Marshal 
 Biron, Duke Richelieu, and many of the chiefest among the Turk¬ 
 ish bashaws, have I known and conversed with; but I still feel that 
 Man’s trembling hand on my head; my blood is still fired, as at the 
 sound of a trumpet, by the remembrance of his voice; I still rejoice 
 at my fortune in having set eyes, if only for a moment, on John 
 Churchill,. Duke of Marlborough. 
 
 It was on the Twenty-ninth of January (O.S.) that our servants 
 who had declared to having heard the death-watch ticking for days, 
 asserted that those ominous sounds grew faster and faster, resolving 
 themselves at length into those five distinct taps, with a break be¬ 
 tween, which are foolishly held by the vulgar to spell out the word 
 death. And although the noise came probably from some harm¬ 
 less insect, or from a rat nibbling at the wainscot, that sound never 
 meets my ear—and I have heard it on board ship many a time, and 
 in jail, and in my tent in the desert—without a lump of ice sliding 
 down my back. As for Ghosts, John Dangerous has seen too 
 many of them to be frightened.* 
 
 That night I slept none. It was always my lot in that huge house 
 to be put, little fellow as I was, in the hugest of places. My bed 
 was as spacious as a Turkish divan. Its yellow silken quilt, lined 
 with eider-down, and embroidered with crimson flowers, was like 
 a great waving field of ripe corn with poppies in it. When I lay 
 down, great weltering waves of Bed came and rolled over me: and 
 my bolster alone was as big as the cook’s hammock at sea, who has 
 always double bedding, being swollen with other men’s rations. 
 This bed had posts tall and thick enough to have been Gerard the 
 Giant’s lancing-pole, that used to stand in the midst of the bake- 
 
 * Captain Dangerous was, unconsciously, of the same mind with Samuel 
 Taylor Coleridge.— Ed. 
 
46 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 \ 
 
 house in Basing Lane; and its curtains of yellow taffety hung in 
 folds so thick that I always used to think birds nestled among 
 them. That night I dreamed that the bed was changed into our great 
 red pew at St. George’s, only that it was hung with dark velvet in 
 stead of scarlet baize, and that the clergyman in the pulpit over¬ 
 head, with a voice angrier than ever, was reading that service for 
 the martyrdom of K. C. I st , which I had heard so often. And then 
 methought my dream changed, and two Great Giants with heading- 
 axes came striding over the bed, so that I could feel their heavy 
 feet on my breast; but their heads were lost in the black sky of the 
 bed’s canopy. Horror! they stooped down, and lo, they were head¬ 
 less, and from their sheared shoulders and their great hatchets 
 dripped, dripped, forever dripped, great gouts of something hot 
 that came into my mouth and tasted Salt! And I woke up with 
 my hair all in a dabble with the night dews, with my Grand¬ 
 mother’s voice ringing in my ears, “ Remember the Thirtieth of 
 January!” Mercy on me! I had that dream again last night; and 
 the Giants with their axes came striding over these old bones—then 
 they changed to a headless Spaniard and a bleeding Nun; but the 
 voice that cried, “Remember!” spake not in the English tongue, 
 and was not my Grandmother’s. And the hair of my flesh stood 
 up, as Job’s did. 
 
 In the morning, when the clouds of night broke up from Ihe pale 
 winter’s sky, and went trooping away like so many funeral coach- 
 horses to their stable, they told me that my Grandmother was 
 Dead; that she had passed away when the first cock crew, softly 
 sighing, “Remember.” It was a dreadful thing for me that I 
 could not, for many hours, weep; and that for this lack of tears I 
 was reproached for a hardened ingrate by those who were now to 
 be my most cruel governors. But I could not cry. The grief 
 within me baked my tears, and I could only stare all round at the 
 great desert of woe and solitude that seemed to have suddenly grown 
 up around me. That morning, for the first time, I was left to dress 
 myself; and when I crept down to the parlor, I found no breakfast 
 laid out for me—no silver tankard of new milk with a clove in it, 
 no manchet of sweet diet bread, no egg on a trencher in a little 
 heap of salt. I asked for my breakfast, and was told, for a young- 
 cub, that I might get it in the kitchen. It would have gone hard 
 with me if, in my Grandmother’s time, I had entered that place to 
 her knowledge; but all things were changed to me now, and when 
 I entered the kitchen, the cook, nay, the very scullion-wench, never 
 moved for me. John Footman sat on the dresser drinking a mug 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 47 
 
 of purl that one of the maids had made for him. The cook leered 
 at me, while another saucy slut handed me a great lump of dry bread, 
 and a black-jack with some dregs of the smallest beer at the bot¬ 
 tom. What had I done to merit such uncivil treatment? 
 
 By and by comes Mr. Cadwallader with a sour face, and orders 
 me to my chamber, and get a chapter out of Deuteionomy by heart 
 by dinner-time, “ Or you keep double fast for Martyrdom-day, my 
 young master,” he says, looking most evilly at me. 
 
 “ Young master, indeed,” Mrs. Nancy repeated; “ young master 
 and be saved to us. A parish brat rather. No man’s child but his 
 that to hit you must throw a stone over Bridewell Wall. Up to 
 your chamber, little varlet, and learn thy chapter. There are to be 
 no more counting of beads or mumblings over hallowed beans in 
 this house. Up with you; times are changed. ” 
 
 Why should this woman have been my foe? She had been a 
 cockering, fawning nurse to me not so many months ago. Months! 
 -—yesterday. Why should the steward, who was used to flatter and 
 caress me, now frown and threaten like some harsh taskmaster of a 
 Clink, where wantons are sent to be whipped and beat hemp! I 
 slunk away scared and cowed, and tried to learn a chapter out of 
 Deuteronomy; but the letters all danced up and down before my 
 eyes, and the one word “ Remember,” in great scarlet characters, 
 seemed stamped on every page. •“ 
 
 It should have been told that between <my seventh and my eighth 
 year I had been sent, not only to church^ but to school; but my 
 Grandmother deeming me too tender for the besom discipline of a 
 schoolmaster—from which even the Quality were not at that time 
 spared—I was put under the government of a dis'ereet matron, who 
 taught not only reading and writing, but also brboaded waistcoats 
 for gentlemen, and was great caudle-maker at christenings. It was 
 the merriest and gentlest school in the town. We werb some twenty 
 little boys and girls together, and all we did was to eat sweetmeats, 
 and listen to our dame while she told us stories about'Cock Robin, 
 Jack the Giant-Killer, and the Golden Gardener. Now'and then, 
 to be sure, some roguish boy would put pepper in her< snuff-box, 
 or some saucy girl hide her spectacles; but she never laid 1 hands on 
 us, and called us her lambs, her sweethearts, and the like endear¬ 
 ing expressions. She was the widow of an Irish Colonel who 
 suffered in the year ’96, for his share in Sir John Fenwick's con¬ 
 spiracy; and I think she had been at one time a tiring-w T om ! an to 
 my Grandmother, whom she held in the utmost awe and reverdnce. 
 
 I often pass Mrs. Triplet’s old school-house in what is now called 
 
48 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 Major Foubert’s Passage, and recall the merry old days when I 
 went to a schoolmistress who could teach her scholars nothing but 
 to love her dearly. It was to my Grandmother, a kind but strict 
 woman, to whom I owed what scant reading and writing ken I had 
 at eight years of age. 
 
 Rudely and disdainfully treated as I now was, my governors 
 thought it fit, for the world’s sake, that I should be put into decent 
 mourning; for my Grandmother’s death could not be kept from 
 the Quality, and there was to be a grand funeral. She lay in State 
 in her great bed-chamber; tapers in silver sconces all around her, an 
 Achievement of arms in a lozenge at her head, the walls all hung 
 with fine black cloth edged with orris, and pieced with her escutch¬ 
 eon, properly blazoned; and she herself, white and sharp as wax- 
 work in her face and hands, arrayed in her black dress, with crim¬ 
 son ribbons and crimson scarf, and a locket of gold on her breast. 
 They would not bury her with her rubies, but these, too, were laid 
 upon her bier, which was of black velvet, and with a fair Holland 
 sheet over all. 
 
 Not alone the chamber itself, but the anterooms and staircase 
 were hung from cornice to skirting with black. The undertaker’s 
 men were ever in the house; they eat and drank Avhole mountains 
 of beef and bread, whole seas of ale and punch (thus to qualify 
 their voracity) in the servants’-hall. They say my Grandmother’s 
 funeral cost a thousand pounds, which Cadwallader and Mrs. Tal- 
 mash would really have grudged, but that it was the will of the ex¬ 
 ecutors, who were persons of condition, and more powerful than a 
 steward and a waiting-woman. In her own testament my Grand¬ 
 mother said nothing about the ordering of her obsequies; but her 
 executors took upon them to provide her with such rites as be¬ 
 seemed her degree. In those days the Quality were very rich in 
 their deaths; and, for my part, I dissent from the starveling and 
 nipche’ese performances of modern funerals. It is most true that a 
 hole in the sand, or a coral-reef, full fathom five, has been at many 
 tinies my likeliest Grave; but I have left it nevertheless in my Will 
 —which let those who come after me dispute if they dare—that I 
 may be buried as a Gentleman of long descent, with all due Blacks, 
 and Plumes, and Lights, and a supper for my friends, and mourn¬ 
 ing cloaks for six poor men. 
 
 Why the doctors should have remained ip Ihe house jangling and 
 glozing in the very lobby of Death, and eating of cold meats and 
 drinking of sweet wine in the parlor, after Ihe breath was out of 
 the body of their patient and patroness, it passes me to say] as well 
 
 * N 
 
 5 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 49 
 
 should a player tarry upon the Stage long after the epilogue has 
 been spoken, the curtain lowered, and the lights all put out. Yet 
 were Pall Mall and Warwick Lane faithful, not only unto the death 
 but beyond it, to Hanover Square. A coachful of these grave gen¬ 
 tlemen were bidden to the burial, although it was probable that 
 words would run so high among them as for wigs to be tossed out 
 of the windows. And although it is but ill fighting and base fence 
 to draw upon a foe in a coach, I think (so bitter are our Physicians 
 against one another) that they would make but little ado in break¬ 
 ing their blades in halves and stabbing at one another crosswise as 
 they sat, with their handkerchiefs for hilts. 
 
 It was on the eighth night after her demise, and at half-past nine 
 of the clock, that my Grandmother was Buried. I was dressed 
 early in the afternoon in a suit of black, full trimmed, falling bands 
 of white cambric, edged, and a little mourning-sword with a crape 
 knot, and slings of black velvet. Then Mrs. Talmash knotted 
 round my neck a mourning-cloak that was about eight times too 
 large for me, and with no gentle hand flattened on my head a hat 
 bordered by heavy sable plumes. On the left shoulder of my cloak 
 there was embroidered in gold and colored silks a little escutcheon of 
 arms; and with this, in my child-like way, my fingers hankered to 
 play; but with threats that to me were dreadful, and not without 
 sundry nips and pinches, and sly clouts, I was bidden to be still, 
 and stir not from a certain stool apportioned to me in the great 
 Withdraw-ing-room. Not on this side of the tomb shall I forget 
 the weary, dreary sense of desolation that came over me when, 
 thus equipped, or rather swaddled and hampered in garments strange 
 to me, and of which I scarcely knew the meaning, I was left alone 
 for many hours in a dismal room, whose ancient splendor was now 
 all under the eclipse wrought by the undertakers. And I pray that 
 few children may so cruelly and suddenly have their happiness 
 taken away from them, and from pampered darlings become all at 
 once despised and friendless outcasts. 
 
 By and by the house began to fill with company; and one that 
 was acting as Groom of the Chambers, and marshaling the guests 
 to their places, I heard whisper to the Harbinger, who first called 
 out the names at the Stair-head, that Clarencieux, king-at-arms 
 (who was then wont to attend the funerals of the Quality, and to be 
 gratified with heavy fees for his office; although in our days ’tis 
 only public noblemen, generals, embassadors, and the like, who 
 are so honored at their interment, only undertaker’s pageantry be¬ 
 ing permitted to the private sort)—that Clarencieux himself might 
 
 ' ■ 
 
 ■S X/ 
 
50 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 have attended to marshal the following, and proclaim the Style of 
 the Departed; but that it was ordered by Authority that, as in her 
 life her name and honors had been kept secret, so likewise in her 
 death she was to remain an Unknown Lady. How such a reticence 
 was found to jump with the dictates of the law, which required a 
 registry of all dead persons in the parish-books, I know not; but in 
 that time there were many things suffered to the Greal which to the 
 meaner kind would have been sternly denied; and, indeed, I have 
 since heard tell that sufferance even went beyond the concealment 
 of her Name, and that she was not even buried in woolen—a thing 
 then very strictly insisted upon, in order to encourage the staple 
 manufacturers of Lancashire and the North—and that, either by a 
 Faculty from the Arches Court, or a winking and conniving of 
 Authority, she was placed in her coffin in the same garb in which 
 she had lain in state. Of such sorry mocks and sneers as to the 
 velvet of her funeral coffer being nearer Purple than Crimson in its 
 hue, and of my mourning cloak being edged with a narrow strip of 
 a Violet tinge—as though to hint in some wise that my Grandmother 
 was foregathered, either by descent or by marital alliance with 
 Royalty—I take little account. ’Tis not every one who is sprung 
 from the loins of a King who cares to publish the particulars of his 
 lineage, and John Dangerous may perchance be one of such dis¬ 
 creet men. 
 
 The doctors had been so long in the house that their names and 
 their faces were familiar to me, not indeed as friends, but as that 
 kind of acquaintance one may see every day for twenty years, and 
 be not grieved some morning if news comes that they are dead. 
 Such an eye-acquaintance passes my windows every morning. I 
 know his face, his form, his hat and coat, the very tie of his wig 
 and the fashion of his shoe-buckle; but he is no more to me than I 
 am haply to him, and there would be scant weeping, I opine, be¬ 
 tween us if either of us were to die. So I knew these doctors and 
 regarded them little, wondering only why they eat and drunk so 
 much, and could so ill conceal their hatred as to be calling foul 
 names, and well-nigh threatening fisticuffs, while Ihe corse of my 
 Grandmother was in the house. But of the body of those who 
 were bidden to this sad ceremony, I had no knowledge whatsoever. 
 For aught I knew, they might have been players or bullies and Pic¬ 
 cadilly captains, or mere undertaker’s men dressed up in fine 
 clothes; yet, believe me, it is no foolish pride, or a dead vanity that 
 prompts me to surmise that there were those who came to my 
 Grandmother’s funeral who load a Claim to be reckoned amongst 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 51 
 
 the very noblest and proudest in the land. Beneath the great 
 mourning cloaks and scarves, 1 could see diamond stars glistening, 
 and the brave sheen of green and crimson ribbons. I desire in this 
 particularity to confine myself strictly to the Truth, and therefore 
 make no vain boast of a Blue Ribbon “beings seen there, thus denot¬ 
 ing the presence of a Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter. 
 I leave it to mine enemies to lie, and to cowardly Jacks to boast of 
 their own exploits. This brave gathering was not void of women; 
 but they were closely veiled and impenetrably shrouded in their 
 mourning weeds, so that of their faces and their figures I am not 
 qualified to speak; and if you would ask me that which I remem¬ 
 ber chiefly of the noble gentlemen who were present, I can say with 
 conscience, that beyond their stars and ribbons, I was only stricken 
 by their monstrous and portentous Periwigs, which towered in the 
 candle-light like so many great tufts of plumage atop of the Pope’s 
 Baldaquin, which I have seen so many times staggering through 
 the great aisles of St. Peter’s at Rome. 
 
 Your humble servant, and truly humble and forlorn he was that 
 night, was placed at the coffin’s head; it being part of that black 
 night’s sport to hold me as Chief Mourner; and, indeed, poor 
 wretch, I had much to mourn for. The great plumed hat they had 
 put upon me flapped and swaled over my eyes so as almost lo blind 
 me. My foot was forever catching in my great mourning cloak, 
 and I on the verge of tripping myself up; and there was a hot 
 smoke sweltering from the tapers, and a dreadful smell of new 
 black cloth and sawdust and beeswax, that was like to have suffo¬ 
 cated me. Infinite was the relief when two of the ladies attired in 
 black, who had sat on ether side of me, as though to guard me from 
 running away, lifted me gently each under an armpit, and held me ' 
 up so that I could see the writing on the coffin-plate, which was of 
 embossed silver and very brave to view. 
 
 “ Can you read it out, my little man?” a deep rich voice as of a 
 lady sounded in mine ears. 
 
 I said, with much trembling, “ that I thought I could spell out 
 the words, if time and patience were accorded me.” 
 
 “ There is little need, child,” the voice resumed. “ I will read it 
 to thee;” and a black-gloved hand came from beneath her robe, and 
 she took my hand, and holding my forefinger not ungently made 
 me trace the writing on the silver. But I declare that I can remem¬ 
 ber little of that Legend now, although I am impressed with the 
 belief that my kinswoman’s married name was not mentioned. That 
 it was merely set forth that she was the Lady D - , whose maiden 
 
52 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 name was A. G., and that she died in London in the 90th year of 
 her age, King George I. being king of England. And then the 
 smoke of the tapers, the smell of the cloth and the wax, and the 
 remembrance of my Desolation, were too much for me, and I broke 
 out into a loud wail, and was so carred fainting from the room; 
 being speedily, however, sufficiently recovered to take my place in 
 the coach that was to bear us Eastward. 
 
 We rode in sorrowful solemnity till nigh three o’clock that 
 morning; but where my Grandmother was buried I never knew. 
 From some odd hints that I afterward treasured up, it seems to me 
 that the coaches parted company with the Hearse somewhere on 
 the road to Harwich; but of this, as I have averred, I have no cer¬ 
 tain knowledge. In sheer fatigue I fell asleep, and woke in broad 
 daylight in the great state-bed at Hanover Square. 
 
 CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 
 
 I AM BARBAROUSLY ABUSED BY THOSE WHO HAVE CHARGE OF 
 ME, AND FLYING INTO CHARLWOOD CHASE, JOIN THE “ BLACKS.” 
 
 In the morning, the wicked people into whose power I was now 
 delivered came and dragged me from my bed with fierce thumps, 
 and giving me coarse and rude apparel, forced me to dress myself 
 like a beggar boy. I had a wretched little frock and breeches of 
 gray frieze, ribbed woolen hose and clouted shoes, and a cap that 
 was fitter for a chimney-sweep than a young gentleman of Quality. 
 
 I was to go away in the Wagon, they told me, forthwith, to 
 School; for my Grandmother—if I was indeed anybody’s Grandson 
 —had left me nothing, not even a name. Henceforth I was to be 
 little Scrub, little Ragamuffin, little boy Jack. All the unknowm 
 Lady’s property, they said, was left to Charities and to deserving 
 Servants. There was not a penny for me, not even to pay for my 
 Schooling; but, in Christian mercy, Mrs. Talmash was about to 
 have me taught some things suitable for my new degree, and in 
 due time have me apprenticed to some rough Trade, in which I 
 might haply—if I were not hanged, as she hinted pretty plainly, 
 and more than once—earn an honest livelihood. Meanwhile I was 
 to be taken away in the Wagon, as though I were a Malefactor go¬ 
 ing in a Cart to Tyburn. 
 
 I was taken down-stairs, arrayed in my new garments of poverty 
 and disgrace, and drunk in a last long look at my dear and old and 
 splendid Home. How little did I think that I should ever come to 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 53 
 
 look upon it again, and that it would be my own House—mine, a 
 prosperous and honored old man! The undertaker’s men were 
 busied in taking down the rich hangings, and guzzling and gorg¬ 
 ing, as was their wont, on what fragments remained of the banquet, 
 ings and carousals of Death, which had lasted for eight whole days. 
 All wretched as I was, I should—so easily are the griefs of child¬ 
 hood assuaged by cates and dainties—have been grateful for the 
 wing of a chicken or a glass of Canary; but this was not to be. 
 John a’ Nokes and John a’ Styles were now more considered than I 
 was, and I was pushed and bandied about by fustian knaves and 
 base mechanics, and made to wait for full half an hour in the hall, 
 as though I had been the by blow of a Running Footman promoted 
 into carrying of a link. 
 
 ’Twas Dick the Groom that took me to the Wagon. Many a 
 time he had walked by the side of my little pony, trotting up the 
 Oxford Road. He was a gross unlettered churl, but not unkind: 
 and I think remembered with something like compunction the many 
 pieces of silver he had had from his Little Master. 
 
 “It’s mortal hard,’’ he said, as he took my hand, and began 
 lugging me along, “that your grandam should have died and 
 left you nothing. ’Tis all clear as Bexley ale in a yard-glass. Law¬ 
 yers ha’ been reading the will to the gentlefolks, and there’s noth¬ 
 ing for thee, poor castaway.” 
 
 I began to cry, not because my Grandmother had disinherited 
 me, but because this common horse-lout called me a “ castaway,” 
 and because I knew myself to be one. 
 
 “ Don’t fret,” the groom continued; “ there’ll be greet enough 
 for thee when thou’rt older; for thou’lt have a hard time on’t, ar 
 my name’s not Dick Snaffle.” 
 
 We had a long way to reach the Wagon, which started from a 
 Tavern called the Pillars of Hercules, right on the other side of 
 Hyde Park. I was desperately tired when we came thither, and 
 craved leave to sit on a bench before the door, between the Sign¬ 
 post and the Horse-trough. So low was I fallen. A beggar came 
 alongside of me, and as I dozed tried to pick my pocket. There 
 was nothing in it—not even a crust; and he hit me a savage blow 
 over the mouth because I had nothing to be robbed of. Anon 
 comes Dick Snaffle, who, telling me that the Saddler of Bawtry 
 w^as hanged for leaving his liquor, and that he had no mind for a 
 halter while good ale was to be drunk, had been comforting him¬ 
 self within the tavern; and he finding me all blubbered with grief 
 at the blow I had gotten from the beggar, fetches him a sound 
 
54 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 kick; and so the two fell to fighting, till out comes the tapster, 
 raving at Tom Ostler to duck the cutpurse cadger in the Horse- 
 trough. There was much more sport out-of-doors in my young 
 days than now. 
 
 At last the Wagon, for which we had another good hour to wait, 
 came lumbering up to the Pillars of Hercules; and after the 
 Wagoner had fought with a Grenadier, who wanted to go to Brent¬ 
 ford for fourpence, and would have stabbed the man with his bay¬ 
 onet had not his hand been stayed, the Groom took me up, and put 
 me on the straw inside. He paid the Wagoner some money for 
 me, and also gave into his keeping a little bundle, containing, I 
 suppose, some change of raiment for me, saying that more would 
 be sent after me when needed; and so, handing him too a letter, he 
 bade me Godd’en, and went on his way with the Grenadier, a 
 Sweep, and a Gypsy woman, who was importunate that he should 
 cross her hand with silver, in order that he might know all about 
 the great Fortune that he was to wed, as Tom Philbrick did in the 
 ballad. And this was the way in which the Servants of the Quality 
 spent their forenoons when I was young. 
 
 As the great rumbling chariot creaked away westward, there 
 came across my child-heart a kind of consciousness that I had been 
 Wronged, and Cheated out of my inheritance. Why was I all clad 
 in laces and velvet bul yesterday, and to-day appareled like a tramp¬ 
 ing peddler’s foster-brat? Why was I, who was used to ride in 
 coaches, and on pony-back, and on the shoulder of my own body- 
 servant, and was called ‘ ‘ Little Master, ’ ’ and made much of, to be 
 carted away in a vile dray like this? But what is a child of eight 
 years old to do? and how is he to make head against those who are 
 older and wickeder than he? I knew nothing about lawyers, or 
 wills, or the Rogueries of domestics. I only knew that I had been 
 foully and shamefully Abused since my dear Grandparent’s death; 
 and in that wagon, I think, as I lay tumbling and sobbing on that 
 straw, were first planted in me those seeds of a Wild, and some¬ 
 times Savage, disposition that have not made my name to be called 
 “ Dangerous ” in vain. 
 
 We were a small and not a very merry company under the wagon 
 tilt. There was a Tinker, with all his accouterments of pots and 
 kettles about him, who was lazy, as most Tinkers are when not at 
 hard work, and lay on his back chewing straw, and cursing me 
 fiercely whenever I moved. There was a Welsh gentleman, very 
 ragged and dirty, with a wife raggeder and dirtier than he. He 
 was addressed as Captain, and was bound, he said, for Bristol, to 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 55 
 
 raise soldiers for the King’s Service. He beat his wife now and 
 then, before we came to Hounslow. There were the Tinker’s dog, 
 a great terror to me; for although he feigned to sleep, and to snore 
 as much as a Dog can snore, he always kept one little red eye fixed 
 upon me, and gave a growl and made a Snap whenever I turned on 
 the straw. There was the Wagoner’s child that was sickly, and 
 continually cried for its mammy; and lastly there was a buxom 
 servant-maid, with a little straw hat and cherry ribbons over a 
 Luton lace mob, and a pretty flowered gown pulled through the 
 placket-holes, and a quilted petticoat, and silver buckles in her 
 shoes, and black mits, who was going home to see her Grandmother 
 at Stoke Pogis—so she told me, and made me bitterly remember 
 that I had now no Grandmother—and was as clean and bright and 
 smiling as a new pin, or the milk-maids on May morning dancing 
 round the brave Garlands that they have gotten from the silver¬ 
 smiths in Cranbourn Alley. She sat prettily crouched up on her 
 box in a comer; and so, with the Tinker among his pots and ket¬ 
 tles, the Welsh Captain and his Lady on sundry bundles of rags, 
 the sickly child in a basket, the Tinker’s dog curled up in his Mas¬ 
 ter’s hat, I tossing on the straw, and a great rout of crates of crock¬ 
 ery, rolls of cloth, tea and sugar, and other London merchandise, 
 which the Wagoner was taking down West, as a return cargo for 
 the eggs, poultry, butcher’s meat, and green stutf that he had 
 brought up, made altogether such a higgledypiggledy that you do 
 not often see in these days, when Servant-maids come up by Coach 
 —my service 1o them!—and disdain the Wagon, and his Worship 
 the Captain wears a fine laced coat and a cockade in his hat—who 
 but he!—and travels post. 
 
 The maid who was bound on a visit to her Grandmother was, I 
 rejoice to admit, most tenderly kind to me. She combed my hair, 
 and wiped away the tears that besmirched my face. When the 
 Wagon halted at the King’s Arms, Kensington, she tripped down 
 and brought me a flagon of new milk with some peppermint in it; 
 and she told me stories all the way to Hounslow, and bade me mind 
 my book, and be a good child, and that Angels would love me. 
 Likewise that she was being courted by a Pewterer in Panyer Al¬ 
 ley, who had parted a bright sixpence wilh her—she showed me her 
 token, drawn from her modest bodice, and who had passed his word 
 to Wed, if he had to take to the Road for the price of the Ring— 
 but that was only his funning, she said—or if she were forced even 
 to run away from her Mistress, and make a Fleet Match of it. It 
 was little, in good sooth, that I knew about courtships or Love- 
 
56 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 tokens or Fleet Matches; but 1 believe that a woman, for want of a 
 better gossip, would open her Love-budget to a Baby or a Blind 
 Puppy, and I listened so well that she kissed me ere we parted, and 
 gave me a pocketful of cheese-cakes. 
 
 It was quite night, and far beyond Hounslow, when I Was doz¬ 
 ing off into happy sleep again, that the Wagon came to a dead stop, 
 and I awoke in great fright at the sound of a harsh voice asking if 
 the Boy Jack was there. I was the “ Boy Jack;” and the Wagoner 
 coming to the after-part of the tilt with his lantern, pulled me from 
 among the straw with far less ado than if I had been the Tinker’s 
 dog. 
 
 I was set down on the ground before a tall man with a long face 
 and an ugly little scratch wig, who had large boots with straps over 
 his thighs, like a Farmer, and swayed about him with a long whip. 
 
 “ Oh, this is the boy, is it?” said the long man. “ A rare lump 
 to lick into shape, upon my word.” 
 
 I was too frightened to say aught; but the Wagoner muttered 
 something in the long man’s ear, and gave him my bundle and 
 money and the letter; and then I was clapped up on a pillion be¬ 
 hind the long man, who had climbed up to the saddle of a vicious 
 horse that went sideways; and he, bidding me hold on tight to his 
 belt, for a mangy young whelp as I was, began jolting me to the 
 dreadful place of Torture and Infernal cruelty which for six intol¬ 
 erable months was to be my home. 
 
 This man’s name was Gnawbit, and he was my School-master. I 
 was delivered over to him, bound hand and foot, as it were, by 
 those hard-hearted folk (who should have been most tender to me, 
 a desolate orphan) in Hanover Square. His name was Gnawbit, and 
 he lived hard by West Drayton. 
 
 We are told in Good Books about the Devil and his Angels; but 
 sure I think that the Devil must come to earth sometimes, and marry 
 and have children; whence the Gnawbit race. I don’t believe that 
 the man had one Spark of Human Feeling in him. I don’t believe 
 that any tale of Man or Woman’s Woe would ever have wrung one 
 tear from that cold eye, or drawn a pang from that hard heart. I 
 believe that he was a perfectly senseless, pitiless Brute and Beast, 
 suffered, for some unknown purpose, to dwell here above, instead 
 of being everlastingly kept down below, for the purpose of Tor¬ 
 menting. I was always a Dangerous, but I was never a Revenge¬ 
 ful man, I have given mine enemy lo eat when he was a-hun- 
 gered, and to drink when he was athirst. I have returned Good for 
 Evil very many times in this Troubled Life of mine, exposed us it 
 
 
CAPTAIK DANGEROUS. 
 
 57 
 
 has been always to the very sorest of temptations; but I honestly 
 aver, that were 1 to meet this Tyrant of mine, now, on a solitary 
 island, I would mash his Hands with a Club or with my Feet, if he 
 strove to grub up roots; that were I Alone with him, wrecked, in a 
 shallop, and there were one Keg of Fresh Water between us, I 
 w T ould stave it, and let the Stream of Life waste itself in the gun¬ 
 wales while I held his head down into the Sea, and forced him to 
 swallow the brine that should drive him Raving Mad. But this is 
 unchristian, and I must go consult Dr. Dubiety. 
 
 Flesh and Blood! Have you never thought upon the Wrongs 
 your Pedagogue has wrought upon you, and longed to meet that 
 Wretch, and wheal his flesh with the same instrument with which 
 he whealed you, and make the Ruffian howl for mercy? Mercy, 
 quotha! did lie ever show you any? A pretty equal match it was, 
 surely! You a poor, weak starveling of a child shivering in your 
 shoes, and ill-nurtured by the coarse food he gave you, and he a 
 great, hulking, muscular villain, tall and long-limbed, and all- 
 powerful in his wretched Empire; while you were so ignorant as 
 not to know that the Law, were he discovered (but who was to 
 denounce him?), might trounce him for his barbarity. Ah! brother 
 Gnawbit, if I had ever caught you on board a good ship of mine! 
 Aha! knave, if John Dangerous would not have dubbed himself 
 the sheerest of asses, had he not made your back acquainted with 
 nine good tails of three-strand cord, with triple knots in each, and 
 the brine-tub afterward. I will find out this Gnawbit yet, and 
 cudgel him to the death. But, alas, I rave. He must have been 
 full five-and-forty years old when I first knew him, and that is nigh 
 sixty years agone. And at a hundred and five the crudest Tyrant 
 is past cudgeling. 
 
 This man had one of the prettiest houses that was to be seen in the 
 prettiest part of England. The place was all draped in ivy, and 
 roses, and eglantine, with a blooming flower-garden in front, and 
 a luscious orchard behind. He had a wife too who was Fair to see 
 —a mild, little woman, with blue eyes, who used to sit in a corner 
 of her parlor, and shudder as she heard the boys shrieking in the 
 school-room. There was an old infirm Gentleman that lodged with 
 them, that had been a Captain under the renowned Sir Cloudesley 
 Shovel and Admiral Russell, and could even, so it was said, re¬ 
 member, as a sea-boy, the Dutch being in the Medway, in King 
 Charles’s time. This Old Gentleman,seemed the only person that 
 Gnawbit was afraid of. He never interfered to dissuade him from 
 his brutalities, nay seemed rather to encourage him therein, crying 
 
58 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 out as the sounds of torture reached him, “ Bear it! bear it! Good 
 again! Make ’em holloa! Make ’em dance! Cross the cuts! Dig 
 it in! Rub in the brine! Oho! Bear it, brave boys; there’s noth¬ 
 ing like it!” Yet was there something jeering and sarcastic in his 
 voice that made Gnawbit prefer to torture his unhappy scholars 
 when the Old Gentleman was asleep—and even then he would some¬ 
 times wake up and cry out, “ Bear it!” from the attic, or when he 
 was being wheeled about the neighborhood in a sick man’s.chair. 
 
 The first morning I saw the Old Gentleman he shook his crutch 
 at me, and cried, “ Aha! another of ’em! Another morsel for 
 Gnawbit. More meat for his market. Is he plump? is he tender? 
 Will he bear it? Will he dance? Oho! King Solomon forever.” 
 And then he burst into such a fit of wheezing laughter that Mrs. 
 Gnawbit had to come and pat him on the back and bring him cor¬ 
 dials; and my Master, looking very discomposed, sternly bade me 
 betake myself to the school-room. 
 
 After that, the Old Gentleman never saw me without shaking his 
 crutch and asking me if I liked it, if I could bear it, and if Gnaw¬ 
 bit made my flesh quiver. Of a truth he did. 
 
 Why should I record the sickening experience of six months’ 
 daily suffering. That I was beaten every day was to be expected 
 in an Age when blows and stripes were the only means thought of 
 for instilling knowledge into the minds of youth. But I was alone, 
 I was friendless, I was poor. My master received, I have reason to 
 believe, but a slender Stipend with me, and he balanced accounts 
 by using me with greater barbarity than he employed toward his 
 better paying scholars. I had no Surname, I w T as only “ Boy Jack;” 
 and my school-fellows put me down, I fancy, as some base-born 
 child, and accordingly despised me. I had no pocket-money. I 
 w r as not allowed to share in the school-games. I was bidden to stand 
 aside w T hen a cake was to be cut up. God help me! I was the 
 most forlorn of little children. Mrs. Gnawbit was as kind to me as 
 she dared be, but she never showed me the slightest favor without 
 its bringing me (if her husband came to hear of it) an additionally 
 cruel Punishment. 
 
 There was a Pond behind the orchard called Tibb’s hole, be¬ 
 cause, as our school boy legend ran, a boy called Tibb had once 
 cast himself thereinto, and was drowned, through dread of being 
 tortured by this Monster. I grew to be very fond of standing alone 
 by the bank of this Pond, and of looking at my pale face in its cool 
 blue-black depth. It seemed to me that the Pond was my friend, 
 and that within its bosom I should find rest. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 59 
 
 I was musing in this manner by the bank one day when I felt 
 myself touched on the shoulder. It was the crutch of the Old Gen¬ 
 tleman,. who had been wheeled hither, as was his custom, by one 
 of the boys. 
 
 “ You go into the orchard and steal a juicy pear,” said the Old 
 Gentleman to his attendant. “ Gnawbit’s out, and I won’t tell 
 him. Leave me with Boy Jack for five minutes, and then come 
 ' back. Boy Jack,” he continued, when we were alone, “ how do 
 ’ you like it?” 
 
 \ “ Like what, sir?” I asked humbly. 
 
 “ All of it, to be sure:—the birch, the cane, the thong, the ferula, 
 the rope’s-end—all Gnawbit’s little toys?” 
 
 I told him, weeping, that I was very, very unhappy, and that I 
 would like to drown myself. 
 
 ‘‘That’s wrong, that’s wicked,” observed the Old Gentleman 
 with a chuckle; “ you mustn’t drown yourself, because then you’d 
 lose your chance of being hanged. Gregory has as much right to 
 live as other folks.” * 
 
 I did not in the least understand what he meant, but went on 
 sobbing. 
 
 “I tell you what it is,” pursued the Old Gentleman; ‘‘you 
 mustn’t stop here, because Gnawbit will skin you alive if you do. 
 He’s bound to do it; he’s sworn to do it. He half skinned Tibb; 
 and was going to take off the other half, when Tibb drowned him¬ 
 self like a fool in this hole here. He was a fool, and should have 
 followed my advice and run away. ‘Tibb,’ I said, ‘ you’ll be 
 skinned. Bear it, but run away. Here’s a guinea. Run!’ He 
 was afraid that Gnawbit would catch him; and where is he now? 
 Skinned, and drowned into the bargain. Don’t you be a Fool. 
 You Run while there’s some skin left. Gnawbit’s sworn to have 
 it all, if you don’t. Here’s a guinea, and run away as fast as ever 
 your legs can carry you.” 
 
 He gave me a bright piece of gold and waved me off, as though I 
 were to run away that very moment. I submissively said that I 
 would run away after school was over, but asked him where I 
 should run to. 
 
 “ I’m sure I don’t know,” the Old Gentleman said somewhat 
 peevishly. “ That’s not my business. A boy that has got legs 
 with skin on ’em, and doesn’t know where to run to, is a Jackass. 
 
 * In my youth ancient persons as frequently spoke of the hangman as 
 “ Gregory and he was so named at the trial of the Regicides in 1660-1—as by 
 his later title of 41 Jack Ketch.”—J. D. 
 
60 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 i 
 
 —Stop!” lie continued, as if a bright idea had just struck him; 
 “ did you ever hear of the Blacks?” 
 
 “No, sir,” I answered. 
 
 “ Stupid oaf! Do you know where Chari wood Chase is!” 
 
 “ Yes, sir; my school fellows have been nutting there, and I have 
 heard them speak of it.” 
 
 “ Then you make the best of your way to Charlwood Chase, and 
 go a nutting there till you find the Blacks; you can’t miss them; 
 they’re everywhere. Run, you little Imp. See! the time’s up, and 
 here comes the boy who stole the juicy pear.” And the boy com¬ 
 ing up, munching the remains of one of Gnawbit’s juiciest pears, 
 my patron was wheeled away, and I have never seen him from that 
 day to this. 
 
 That veiy night I ran away from Gnawbit’s, and made my way 
 toward Charlwood Chase to join the “ Blacks,” although who those 
 “ Blacks ” were, and whereabouts in the Chase they lived, and 
 what they did when they were there, I had no more definite idea 
 than who the Emperor Prester John or the Man in the Moon 
 might be. 
 
 CHAPTER THE SIXTH. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF MY GRANDFATHER, WHO WAS SO LONG KEPT A 
 
 PRISONER IN ONE OF THE KING’S CASTLES IN THE EAST 
 
 COUNTRY. 
 
 At the time when his Majesty Charles II; was so happily restored 
 to the throne of these kingdoms, there was, and had been, confined 
 for upward of ten years, in one of his Majesty’s Castles in the east¬ 
 ern part of this kingdom, a certain Prisoner. His Name was known 
 to none, not even to the guards who kept watch over him, so to 
 speak, night and day—not even to the jailer, who had been told 
 that he must aaswer with his Head for his safe custoly, who had 
 him always in a spying, fretful overlooking, and who slept every 
 night with the keys of the Captive's cell under his pillow. The 
 Castle where he lay in hold has been long since leveled to the earth, 
 if, indeed, it ever had any earth to rest upon, and was not rather 
 stayed upon some jutting fragment of Rock washed away at last 
 by the ever encroaching sea. Nay, of its exact situation I am not 
 qualified to tell. I never saw the place, and my knowledge of it is 
 confined to a bald hearsay, albeit of the Deeds that were done 
 within its walls, I can affirm the certitude with Truth. From such 
 shadowy accounts as I have collected, the edifice would seem to 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 61 
 
 have consisted bat of a single tower or donjon-keep very strong 
 and thick, and defying the lashings of the waves, almost as though 
 it were some Pharos or other guide to mariners. It was surrounded 
 by a low stone wall of prodigious weight of masonry, and was ap¬ 
 proached from the main-land by a drawbridge and barbican. But 
 or many months of the year there was no main-land within half 
 a mile .of it, and the King’s Castle could only be reached by boats. 
 Men said that the Sun never shone there but for ten minutes before 
 and ten minutes after a storm, and there were almost always storms 
 lowering over or departing from that dismal place. The Castle 
 was at least two miles from any human habitation; for the few 
 fishermen’s cabins, made of rotten boats, hogsheads nailed together* 
 and the like, which had pitifully nestled under the lee of the Castle 
 in old time, had been rigorously demolished to their last crazy tim¬ 
 ber when the Prisoner was brought there. At a respectful distance 
 only, far in, and yet but a damp little islet in the midst of the 
 fens, was permitted to linger on, in despised obscurity, a poor 
 swamp of some twenty houses that might, half in derision and half 
 in civility, be called a Village. It had a church without a steeple, 
 but with a poor Stump like the blunted wreck of some tall ship’s 
 mainmast. The priest’s wages were less than those of a London 
 coal-porter. The poor man could get no tithes, for there were 
 no tithes to give him. Three parts of his glebe were always under 
 water, and he was forced to keep a little school for his mainten¬ 
 ance, of which the scholars could pay him but scant fees, seeing 
 that it was always a chance whether their parents were dead of the 
 Ague, or Drowned. Yet there was a tavern in the village, where 
 these poor, shrinking, feverish creatures met and drunk and smoked 
 and sung their songs, contriving now and again to smuggle a few 
 kegs of spirits from Holland, and baffle the riding-officers in a 
 scamper through the fens. They were a simple folk, fond of telling 
 Ghost-Stories, and wfith a firm belief in charms to cure them from 
 the Ague. And, with an awe whose intensity was renewed each 
 time the tale was told, they whispered among themselves as to that 
 Prisoner of Fate up at the Castle yonder. What this man’s Crime 
 had been, none could tell. His misdeed was not, it was whispered, 
 stated in the King’s Warrant. The Governor was simply told to 
 receive a certain Prisoner, wlm would be delivered to him by a cer¬ 
 tain Officer, and that, at the peril of his life, he was to answer for 
 his safe custody. The Governor, whose name was Ferdinando 
 Glover, had been a Captain of Horse in the late Protector Oliver’s 
 time; but, to the surprise of all men, he was not dismissed at his 
 
62 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Majesty’s Restoration, but was continued in his command, and, in¬ 
 deed, received preferment, having the grade of a Colonel on the 
 Irish establishment. But they did not fail to tell him, and with 
 fresh instances of his severity, that he would answer with his head 
 for the safe keeping of his Prisoner. 
 
 Of this strange Person it behooves me now to speak. In the year 
 1660, he appeared to be about seven-and thirty years of age, tall, 
 shapely, well-knit in his limbs, which captivity had rather tended 
 to make full of flesh than to waste away; for there were no yards, 
 nor spacious outlying w r alls to this Castle; and but for a narrow 
 ledge that ran along the surrounding border, and where he was but 
 rarely suffered to walk, there were no means for him to take any 
 exercise whatever. He wore his own hair in full dark locks, which 
 Time and Sorrow had alike agreed to grizzle. Strong lines marked 
 his face, but age had not brought them there. His eye was dim, 
 but more with watching and study than with the natural failing of 
 vital forces. 
 
 So he had been in this grim place going on for twelve years, 
 without a day’s respite, without an hour’s enlargement. True, he 
 wore no fetters, and was treated with a grave and stately Consider¬ 
 ation; but his bonds were not less galling, and the iron had not the 
 less entered into his soul. The Order was, that he was to be held 
 as a Gentleman, and to be subjected to no groveling indignities or 
 base usage. But the Order was (for a long time, and until another 
 Prisoner, hereafter to be named, received a meed of Enlargement) 
 likewise as strict that, save his keepers, he should see no living 
 soul. “And it is useless,” wrote a Great Lord to the Governor 
 once, when it was humbly submitted to him that the Prisoner might 
 need spiritual consolation.and have solace to his soul by conferring 
 with poor Parson Webfoot yonder—“ it is useless,” said that no¬ 
 bleman, “ for your charge to see any black gown, under pretext 
 that he would Repent; for, albeit, though I know not his crime 
 more than the babe unborn, I have it from his Majesty’s own gra¬ 
 cious word of mouth, that what he has done can not be repented of; 
 therefore you are again commanded to keep him close, and to let 
 him have speech neither of parson nor of peasant. ’ ’ Which was 
 duly done. But Colonel Glover, not untouched by that curiosity 
 inherent to mankind, as well as womankind, took pains to cast 
 about whether this was not one who had a hand in compassing the 
 death of King Charles I.; and this coming, in some strange manner 
 (through inquiries he had made in London), to the ears of Author¬ 
 ity, he was distinctly told that his prisoner was not one of those 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 63 
 
 bold bad men who, misled by Oliver Cromwell, had signed that 
 fatal Warrant:—the names and doom of the Regicides being now 
 all well known, as having suffered or fled from Justice, or being in 
 hold, as Mr. Martyn was. So Colonel Glover, being well assured 
 that what was done was for the King’s honor, and for the well¬ 
 being of his Estates, and that any other further searching or pry¬ 
 ing might cost him his place, if they did not draw him within the 
 meshes of the law against Misprison of Treason, forbore to vex 
 himself or Authority further on matters that concerned him not, and 
 so was content to guard his Prisoner with greater care than ever. 
 The Castle was garrisoned by but twelve men, and of these six 
 were invalids and matrosses; but the other six were tall and sturdy 
 veterans, who had been indeed of Oliver’s Life-guard, and were now 
 confirmed in their places, and with the pay, not of common soldiers, 
 but of private gentlemen, by the King’s own order. Their life was 
 dreary enough, for they could hold but little comradeship with the 
 invalids, whom they dubbed “ gray beards, drivelers, and kill¬ 
 joys.” But they had a guard-room to themselves, where they 
 diced and drunk, and told their ruffian stories, and sung their 
 knavish catches, as is the manner, I suppose, for all soldiers to do 
 in all countries, whether in camps or in cities. But their duty was 
 withal of the severest. The invalids went snugly to bed at nine of 
 the clock, or thereabouts, but the veritable men-of-war kept watch 
 and ward all night, turn and turn about, and even when they slept 
 took their repose on a bench, which was placed right across the 
 Prisoner’s door. 
 
 This much-enduring man—for surely no lot could be harder than 
 his—to be thus, and in the very prime and vigor of manhood, 
 cooped up in a worse than jail, wherein for a longtime he was even 
 denied the company of captives as wretched as he—this slave to 
 some Mightier Will and Sterner Fate than, it would seem, mortal 
 knowledge could wot of, bore his great Distress with an unvarying- 
 meekness and calm dignity. With him, indeed, they did as they 
 listed, using him as one that was as Clay in the hands of the Pot¬ 
 ter; but, not to the extent of one tetchy word or froward move¬ 
 ment, did he ever show that he thought his imprisonment unjust, 
 or the bearing of those who were set over him cruel. And this was 
 not an abject stupor or dull indifference, such as I have marked in 
 rogues confined for life in the Bagnios of the Levant, who knew 
 that they must needs pull so many strokes and get so many stripes 
 every day, and so gave up battling with the World, and grinned 
 contumely at theii jailers or the visitors who came sometimes to 
 
04 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 point at them, and fling them copper money. In the King’s Pris¬ 
 oner there was a philosophic reserve and quietness that almost ap¬ 
 proached content; and his resignation under suffering was of that 
 kind that a Just Man may feel who knows he is upon the ground, 
 and that, howsoever his enemies push at him, he can not fall far. 
 He never sought to evade the conditions of his captivity or to plead 
 for its being lightened. The courtesies that were offered to him, 
 in so far as the Governor was warranted in offering such civilities, 
 he took as his due; hut he never craved a greater indulgence or 
 went one step in word or in deed to obtain a surcease from his 
 harsh and cruel lot. 
 
 He would rise at six of the clock both in winter and summer, and 
 apply himself with great ardor to his private devotions and to good 
 studies until eight, when his breakfast, a tankard of frumenty and 
 a small measure of wine, was brought him. And from nine until 
 noon he would again be at his studies, and then have dinner of such 
 meats as were in season. From one to three he was privileged to 
 walk either on the narrow strip of masonry that encompassed his 
 prison-house, and with a soldier with his firelock on hip following 
 his every step, or else to wander up and down in the various cham¬ 
 bers of the Castle, still followed by a guard. Now he would tarry 
 awhile in the guard-room, and stand over against the soldiers’ table, 
 his head resting very sadly against the chimney, and listen to their 
 wild talk, which was, however, somewhat hushed and shaped to 
 decency so long as he abided there. And anon he would come into 
 the Governor’s apartment, and hold Colonel Glover for some mo¬ 
 ments in grave discourse on matters of history, and the lives of 
 Worthy Captains, and sometimes upon points and passages of 
 Scripture, but never upon anything that concerned the present day. 
 For, beyond the bounds of the place in which he was immured, 
 what should he know of Ihings of instant moment, or of the way 
 the world was wagging? By permission, the Colonel had told him 
 that Oliver was no more, and that Richard, his son, was made Pro¬ 
 tector in his stead. Then, at the close of that weak and vain shadow 
 of a Reign, and after the politic act of my Lord Duke of Albemarle 
 (Gen. Monk), who made his own and the country’s fortune, and 
 Nan Clarges’ * to boot, at one stroke, the Prisoner was giyen to 
 know that schism was at an end, and that the King had come to 
 
 * A woman of very mean belongings, whose parents lived, I have heard, 
 somewhere about the Maypole in the Strand, and who was promoted to high 
 station, being Monk’s Duchess, but to her death of a coarse and brutish car¬ 
 riage, and shamefully given to the drinking of strong waters.—J. D. 
 
CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 fi5 
 
 liis own again. Colonel Glover must needs tell liim; for he was 
 bidden to fire a salvo from the five pieces of artillery he had 
 mounted, three on his outer wall, and two at the top of his donjon- 
 keep, to say nothing of hoisting the Royal Standard, which now 
 streamed from the pole where erst had floated the rag that bore the 
 arms of the Commonwealth of England.”* 
 
 “ I am glad,” the Prisoner said, when they told him. “ I hope 
 this young man will make England happier than did his father be¬ 
 fore him.” But this was after he was in hopes of getting some 
 company in his solitude, and when he was cheerfuller. 
 
 It was about midway in his imprisonment when another Captive 
 was brought to the King’s Castle; but it was not until close upon 
 the Restoration of King Charles II. that the two Prisoners were 
 permitted to come together. The second guest in this most dolor¬ 
 ous place was a Woman, and that Woman was my Grandmother, 
 Arabella Greenville. 
 
 There is no use in disguising the fact that, for many months after 
 the failure of her attack on the Protector, the poor Lady had been 
 as entirely distraught as was her fate after the death of the Lord 
 Francis, and that to write her Life during this period would be 
 merely penning the chronicle of a continued Frenzy. It were 
 merciful to draw a veil over so sad and mortifying a scene—so well 
 brought up as she had been, and respected by all the Quality—but 
 in pursuit of the determination with which I set out, to tell the 
 Truth, and all the Truth, I am forced to confess that my Grand¬ 
 mother’s Ravings were of the most violent, and that .of her thor¬ 
 oughly demented state there could be no doubt. So far, indeed, 
 did the unhappy creature’s Abandonment extend, that those who 
 were about her could with difficulty persuade her to keep any 
 Garments upon her body, and were forced with Stripes and Revil- 
 ings to force to a decorous carriage the gentle Lady who had once 
 been the very soul and mirror of Modesty. But in process of time 
 these dreadful furies and rages left her, and she became calm. She 
 was still beautiful, albeit her comeliness was now of a chastened 
 and saddened order, and, save her eye, there was no light or sparkle 
 in her face. 
 
 When her health and mind were healed, so far as earthly skill 
 could heal them-rit being given out, I am told, to her kindred that 
 she had died mad in the Spinning House at Cambridge; but she had 
 never been further than the house of me Dr. Empson at Colchester, 
 
 * A very glorious rag, nevertheless.— Ed. 
 
 3 
 
66 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 who had tended her during her distraction—my Grandmother was 
 brought to the King’s Castle in the East, and for a long time lay in¬ 
 carcerate in a lower chamber of the keep, being not allowed even 
 that scant exercise which was permitted to the Prisoner above, and 
 being waited upon and watched night and day by the Governor’s 
 Daughter, Mistress Ruth Glover, who at night slept in a little closet 
 adjoining my Grandmother’s chamber. The girl had a tongue, I 
 suppose, like the rest of her sex—and of our sex too, brother—and 
 she would not have been eighteen, of a lively Disposition, and con¬ 
 tinually in the society of a Lady of Birth and accomplishments, 
 now more than ten years her senior, without gossiping to her con¬ 
 cerning all that she knew of the sorry little world round about her. 
 It was not, however, much, or of any great moment, that Ruth had 
 to tell my Grandmother. She could but hold her in discourse of 
 how the Invalid Matrosses had the rheumatism and the ague; how 
 the Life guard men in their room diced and drunk and quarreled, 
 both over their dice and their drink; how the rumor ran that the 
 poverty-stricken habitants of the adjoining village had, from long 
 dwelling among the fens, become as web footed as the wild-fowl 
 they hunted; and how her Father, who had been for many years a 
 widower, was harsh and stern with her, and would not suffer her 
 to read the romances and playbooks, some half-dozen of which the 
 Sergeant of the Guard had with him. She may have had a little also 
 to say about the Prisoner in the upper story of the Keep—how his 
 chamber was all filled with folios and papers; how he studied and 
 wrote and prayed; and during his two hours’ daily liberty wan¬ 
 dered sadly and in a silent manner about the Castle. For this was 
 all Mistress Ruth had to tell, and of the Prisoner’s name, or of his 
 Crime, she was, perforce, mum. 
 
 These two Women nevertheless shaped all kinds of feverish 
 Romances and wild conjectures respecting this unknown man 
 above-stairs. Arabella had told her own sad story to the girl, 
 whom—though little better than a waiting-woman—she had made, 
 for want of a better bower-maiden, her Confidante. I need not say 
 that oceans of Sympathy, or the accepted Tokens thereof, I mean 
 Tears, ran out from the eyes of the Governor’s Daughter when she 
 heard the History of the Lord Francis, of the words he spoke just 
 before the musketeers fired their pieces at him, and of another 
 noble speech he made two hours before he suffered, when the 
 Officer in command, compassionating his youth and parts, told him 
 that if he had any suit, short of life, to prefer to the Lord-General, 
 he would take upon himself to say that it should be granted with- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 67 
 
 out question; whereon quotli my Lord Francis, “ I will not die with 
 any suit in my mouth, save to the King of kings.” On this, and 
 on the story of the Locket, and of his first becoming acquainted 
 with Arabella, of his sprightly disguise as a Teacher, with the 
 young squire at Mme. Desaguiliers’s school at Hackney, of his 
 Beauty and Virtues and fine manners and extraordinary proficiency 
 in Arts and Letters and the Exercises of Chivalry—of these and a 
 thousand kindred things the two women were never tired of talk¬ 
 ing. And, indeed, if one calls to mind what vast Eloquence and 
 wealth of words two loving hearts can distil from a Bit of Ribbon 
 or a Torn Letter, it is not to be wondered at that Arabella and Ruth 
 should find their Theme inexhaustible—so good and brave as had 
 been its Object, now dead and. cold in the bloody trench at Hamp¬ 
 ton yonder, and convert it into a perpetually welling spring of 
 Mournful Remembrances. 
 
 Arabella had taken to her old trick of Painting again, and in the 
 first and second year of her removal to the Castle executed some 
 very creditable performances. But she never attempted either the 
 effigies of her Lover or of the Protector, and confined herself to 
 portraitures of the late martyred King, and of the Princes now un¬ 
 justly kept from their inheritance. 
 
 It was during the Protectorate of Richard Cromwell (that mere 
 puppet-play of Power) that the watch kept on the prisoners in the 
 King’s Castle grew for a time much less severe and even lax. 
 Arabella was suffered to go out of her chamber, even at the very 
 hours that the Prisoner above was wandering to and fro. The 
 guards did not hinder their meeting; and, says Colonel Ferdinando 
 Glover, one day to his daughter, “ I should not wonder if, some of 
 these days, Orders were to come down for me to set both my birds 
 free from their cage. That which Mrs. Greenville has done, you 
 ; nd I know full well, and I am almost sorry that she did not suc¬ 
 ceed.” 
 
 “ Oh, father!” cries Mistress Ruth, who was of a very soft and 
 tender nature, and abhorred the very idea of bloodshed; so that, 
 loving Arabella as she did with all her heart, she could not help 
 regarding her with a kind of Terror when she remembered the deed 
 for which she was confined. 
 
 “ Tush, girl,” the Colonel makes answer, ’tis no Treason now 
 to name such a thing. Oliver’s dead, and will eat no more bread; 
 and I misliked him much at the end, for it is certain that he be¬ 
 trayed the Good Old Cause, and hankered after an earthly crown. 
 As for this young Popinjay, he will have more need to protect hirm 
 
68 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 self than these Kingdoms. And I think that if your father is to live 
 on the King’s wages, it had better be on the real King’s than the 
 false one. ’ ’ 
 
 “ And do you think, father, that King Charles will come to his 
 own again?” asks Ruth, in a flutter of delight; for Arabella had 
 made her a very Royalist at heart. 
 
 “I think what I think,” replied the Colonel, with his stern 
 look; “ but whatever happens, it is not likely, it seems to me, that 
 we shall have our prisoners here much longer. That is to say: 
 Mrs. Greenville, for what she hath done can scarcely be distasteful 
 to those who loved not Oliver. But for my other bird—who can 
 tell?—He may have raised the very Devil for aught I know.” 
 
 “ Do you think that he also tried to kill the Protector?” Ruth 
 asks timidly, and just hazarding a Surmise that had oft been mooted 
 betwixt Arabella and herself. 
 
 “ Get thee to thy chamber, and about thy business, wench,” the 
 Colonel says, quite storming. “Away, or I will lay my willow 
 wand about thy shoulders. Is there nothing but killing of Pro¬ 
 tectors, forsooth, for thy silly head to be filled with?” And yet I 
 incline to think that Mr. Governor was not of a very different mind 
 to his daughter; for away he hies to his chamber, and falls to read¬ 
 ing Colonel Titus’s famous book, “ Killing no Murder,” and, look¬ 
 ing anon on his Prisoner coming wandering down a winding stair¬ 
 case, says softly to himself, “ He looks’like one, for all his studious 
 guise, who could do a Bold Deed at a pinch.” 
 
 This Person, I should have said, wore, winter and summer, a 
 plain black shag gown untrimmed, with camlet netherstocks, and a 
 smooth band. And his Right Hand was always covered with a 
 glove of Black Velvet. 
 
 By and by came, as I have related, the news of his Majesty’s 
 Restoration and fresh Strict Orders for the keeping of the Prisoner. 
 But though he was not to see a clergyman—and for all that prohi¬ 
 bition he saw more than one before he came out of Captivity—a cer¬ 
 tain Indulgence was now granted him. He was permitted 1o have 
 free access to Mrs. Arabella Greenville, and to converse freely with 
 her at all proper times and seasons. 
 
 But that I know the very noble nature of my Grandmother, and 
 am prepared, old as 1 am, to defend her fame even 1o taking the 
 heart’s blood of the villain that maligned her, I might blush at hav¬ 
 ing to record a fact which must needs be set down here. Ere six 
 months had passed, there grew up between Mrs. Greenville and the 
 Prisoner a very warm and close friendship, which in time ripened 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEEOUS. 
 
 69 
 
 into the tenderest of attachments. That her love for her dead 
 Frank ever wavered, or that she ever swerved for one moment in 
 her reverence for his memory, I can not and I will not believe; but 
 she nevertheless looked with an exceeding favor upon the impris¬ 
 oned man, and made no scruple of avowing her Flame to Ruth. 
 This young person did in time confide the same to her father, who 
 was much concerned thereat, he not knowing how far the allow¬ 
 ance of any love-passages between two such strangely assorted suit¬ 
 ors might tally with his duty toward the King and Government. 
 Nor could he shut his eyes to the fact that the Prisoner regarded 
 Mrs. Greenville first with a tender compassion (such as a father 
 might have toward his child), next with an ardent sympathy, and 
 finally—and that very speedily too—with a Feeling that had all the 
 Signs and the Portents of Love. These two unfortunate People 
 were so shut out from the world, and so spiritually wedded by a 
 common Misery and discomfort, that their more earthly coming to¬ 
 gether could not be looked upon but as natural and reasonable; for 
 Mrs. Greenville was the only woman upon whom the Prisoner could 
 be expected to look—he being, beyond doubt, one of Gentle Degree, 
 if not of Great and Noble Station, and therefore beyond aught but 
 the caresses of a Patron with such a simple maid as Ruth Glover, 
 whose father, although of some military rank, was, like most of the 
 Captains who had served under the Commonwealth (witness Ireton, 
 Harrison, Hacker, and many more) of exceeding mean extraction. 
 
 That love-vows were interchanged between this Bride and Bride¬ 
 groom of Sorrow and a Dark Dungeon almost, I know not; but 
 their liking for each other’s society—he imparting to her some of 
 his studies, and she playing music, with implements of which she 
 was well provided, to him of an afternoon—had become so apparent 
 both to the soldiers on guard and servants, even to the poor Invalid 
 Matrosses wheezing and shivering in their buff-coats, that Colonel 
 Glover, in a very flurry of uncertainty, sent post-haste to Whitehall 
 to know what he was to do—whether to chamber up Mrs. Green¬ 
 ville in her chamber, as of aforetime, or confine the Prisoner in one 
 of the lower vaults in the body of the rock, with so many pounds- 
 weight of iron on his legs. For Colonel Glover was a man accus¬ 
 tomed to use strong measures, whether with his family or with those 
 he had custody over. 
 
 No answer came for many days; and the Governor had almost 
 begun to think his message to be forgotten, when one summer even¬ 
 ing (a.d. 1661) a troop of horse were seen galloping from the Vil¬ 
 lage toward the Castle, The Drawbridge, which was on the ordi- 
 
70 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 nary keit slung, was now lowered; and the captain of the troop 
 passing up to the barbican, gave Colonel Glover a sealed packet, 
 and told him that he and his men would biouvack at the bridge-foot 
 (for the fens were passable at this season) until one who was ex¬ 
 pected at nightfall should come. Meat and drink were sent for, and 
 the soldiers, dismounting, began to take tobacco and rail against 
 the Castle in their brutal fashion—shame on them!—as an old 
 mangy rat-trap. 
 
 Colonel Glover went up intD his chamber in extreme disturbance. 
 He had opened the packet and conned its contents; and having his 
 daughter to him presently, and charging her, by her filial duty, to 
 use discretion in all things that he should confide to her, tells her 
 that his Majesty the King of England, France, and Ireland was 
 coming to the Castle in a strictly Disguised habit that very evening. 
 
 There was barely time to make the slightest of preparations for 
 this Glorious Guest; but what there was, and of the best of Meat, 
 and Wine, and Plate, and hangings, and candles in sconces, was set 
 out in the Governor’s chamber, and ordered as handsomely as 
 might be for his Majesty’s coming. About eight o’clock—the vil¬ 
 lagers being given to understand that only some noble commander 
 is coming 1o pass the soldiers in the Castle in review—arrived two 
 lackeys, with panniers and saddle-bags, and a French varlet, who 
 said he was, forsooth, a cook, and carried about with him a whole 
 elaboratory of stove-furnaces, pots and pans, and jars of sauces and 
 condiments. Monsieur was quickly at work in the kitchen, turning 
 all things topsy-turvy, and nearly frightening Margery, the old 
 cook, who had been a baggage-wagon sutler at ISTaseby in the Great 
 Wars, into fits. About half past ten a trumpet was heard to wind 
 at the bridge-foot, and a couple of horses came tramping over the 
 planks, making the chains rattle even to the barbican, where their 
 riders dismounted. 
 
 The King, for it is useless to make any further disguise about 
 him—although the Governor deferred falling on his knees and kiss¬ 
 ing his hand until he had conducted him to his own chamber—was 
 habited in strict incognito, wilh an uncurled wig, a flap-hat, and a 
 horseman’s coat over all. He had not so much as a hanger by his 
 side, carrying only a stout oak walking-staff. With him came a 
 great lord, of an impudent countenance, and with a rich dress be¬ 
 neath his cloak, who, when his Master was out of the room, some¬ 
 times joked with, and sometimes swore at, poor little Ruth, as, I 
 grieve to say, was the uncivil custom among the Quality in those 
 wild days. The King supped very copiously, drinking many beak' 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 71 
 
 ers of wine, and singing French songs, to which the impudent Lord 
 bent time, and sometimes presumed to join in chorus. But this 
 Prince was ever of an easy manner and affable complexion, which 
 so well explains the Love his people bore him. All this while the 
 Governor and Ruth waited at table, serving the dishes and wine on 
 their knees; for they would suffer no mean hirelings to wait upon 
 their guests. 
 
 As the King drank—and he was a great taker of wine—he asked 
 a multitude of questions concerning the Prisoner and Mrs. Green¬ 
 ville, to all of which Colonel Glover made answer in as plain a man¬ 
 ner as was consistent with his deep loyalty and reverence. Soon, 
 however, Colonel Glover found that his Majesty was paying far 
 more attention to the bottle than to his conversation and, about 
 one in the morning, was conducted, with much reverence, to the 
 Governor’s own sleeping chamber, which had been hastily prepared. 
 His Majesty was quite Affable, hut Haggard visibly. The impu¬ 
 dent Lord was bestowed in the chamber which had been Ruth’s, 
 before she came to sleep so near Mrs. Greenville; and it is well he 
 knew not what a pretty tenant the room had had, else would he have 
 doubtless passed some villainous pleasantries thereupon. 
 
 The King, who was always an early riser, was up betimes in the 
 morning; and on Colonel Glover representing to him his sorrow for 
 the mean manner in which he had of necessity been lodged, an¬ 
 swered airily that he was better off there than in the Oak, or in 
 Holland, without a styver in his pocket; “ Although, oddsfisli!” 
 quoth his Majesty, “ this Castle of mine seems litter to harbor wild- 
 ducks than Christians.” And then nothing would suit his Majesty 
 but to be introduced to Mrs. Greenville, with whom he was closeted 
 two whole hours. 
 
 He came forth from her chamber with his dark, saturnine face 
 all flushed. “ A brave woman!—a bold woman!” he kept saying. 
 
 “ An awful service she was like to have done me; and all to think 
 that it was for love of poor Frank.” For this Prince had known 
 the Lord Francis well, and had shown him many favors. 
 
 “And now, good Master Governor.” the King continued, but 
 with quite another expression on his countenance, “ we will see 
 your Man Captive, if it shall so please you.” And the two went 
 upstairs. 
 
 This is all I am permitted to tell in this place of what passed be¬ 
 tween King Charles the Second and the Prisoner in the upper 
 chamber: 
 
72 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 “You know me!” tlie King said, sitting over against him at the 
 table, and scanning his face with dark earnestness. 
 
 “ You are Charles Stuart, second of the name on the throne of 
 England.” 
 
 “ You know I am in the possession of your secret—of the King’s 
 Secret; for of those dead it was known but to Oliver, as of those 
 living it is now only known to yourself and to me.” 
 
 “ And the young Man, Richard?” 
 
 “He never knew it. His father never trusted him so far. He 
 had doubts and suspicions, that was all.” 
 
 “ Thank God!” said the prisoner. 
 
 “ What was Oliver’s enmity toward you, that he should immure 
 you here all these years?” 
 
 “ I had served him too well. He feared lest the Shedder of Blood 
 should become the .Avenger of Blood.” 
 
 “ Are you sorry?” 
 
 “ Sorry!” cried the Prisoner, with a kind of scream. “ Had he 
 a thousand lives, had I a thousand hands, I w T ould do the same to¬ 
 morrow. ’ ’ And he struck the right hand that was covered with 
 the velvet glove with cruel violence on to the oaken table. 
 
 CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. 
 
 I AM BRED UP IN VERY BAD COMPANY, AND (TO MY SHAME) HELP 
 
 TO KILL THE KING’S DEER. 
 
 I lay all that night in the little Hole by the side of a Bank, just 
 as though I had been a Fox-cub. I was not in much better case than 
 ^hat Vermin, and I only marvel that my School-master did not 
 come out next day to Hunt me with horses and hounds. Hounds 
 The Black Fever to him!—he had used me like a Hound any 
 time for Six Months past; and often had I given tongue under his 
 Double Thonging. Happily the weather was warm, and I got no 
 hurt by sleeeping in the Hole. ’Tis strange, too, what Hardships 
 and Hazards of Climate and Excess we can bear in our Youth, 
 whereas in middle life an extra Slice gives us a Surfeit, and another 
 cup turns our Liver to Touchwood; whilst in age (as I know to my 
 sorrow) we dare scarcely venture our shoe in a Puddle for fear of 
 the Chills and Sciatica. In the morning I laved my face in a 
 Brook that hurtled hard by; but waited very fearfully until Noon 
 ere I dared venture forth from my covert. I had filled my pockets 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 73 
 
 with Fruit and Bread (which I am afraid I did not come very 
 honestly by, and indeed admit that Gnawbit’s Larder and Orchard 
 found me in Provender), and was so able to break my fast. And 
 my Guinea, I remembered, was still unchanged. I had a dim kind 
 of impression that I was bound to Charlwood Chase, to join the 
 Blacks, of whom the Old Gentleman had spoken; but I was not 
 in any Hurry to get to my Goal. I was Free, albeit a Runaway, 
 and. felt all the delights of Independence. You whose pleasures 
 lie in the Bowers, and Beds, and Cards, and Wine, can little judge 
 of the Ease felt by him who is indeed a Beggar and pursued, but 
 is at Liberty. I remember being in hiding once with a Gentleman 
 Robber, who had, by the aid of a File and a Friend, contrived 
 to give the Galleys leg-bail, and who for days afterward was never 
 tired of patting and smoothing his ankles, and saying, “ Twas there 
 the shackles galled me so.” Poor rogue! he was soon afterward 
 laid by the heels and swung; for there is no Neck Verse in France 
 to save a Gentleman from the Gallow T s. 
 
 Toward evening my gall began to grate somewhat with the sense 
 of mine own utter loneliness; and for a moment I Wavered between 
 the resolve to go Forward, and a slavish prompting to return to 
 my Tyrant and sutfer all the torments his cruelty could visit me 
 with. Then, as a middle course, I thought I would creep back 
 to my kennel and die there; but I was happily dissuaded from such 
 a mean surrender to Fortune’s Spites through the all-knowing agen¬ 
 cy of a Bull, that, by spying me from afar off where he was feeding, 
 came thundering across two fields and through a shallow stream, 
 routed me up from my refuge, and chased me into the open. I 
 have often since been thankful to this, ungovernable Beast (that 
 w r ould have Tossed, and perchance Gored me sorely, had he got at 
 me), and seldom, in later life, when I have felt weak and wavering 
 in the pursuit of a profitable purpose, have I failed to remember tlie 
 Bull, and how he chased me out of Distempered Idleness into Ac¬ 
 tivity. 
 
 The Sun had begun to walk in the west by the time I had mus¬ 
 tered up enough courage to come into the High Road, which I had 
 an uncertain idea stretched away from Gnawbit’s house, and toward 
 Reading. But suddenly recalling the Danger of traveling by the 
 Highway, where I might be met by Horsemen or Laboring persons 
 sent in quest of me—for it did not enter my mind that I was too 
 worthless a scholar to be Pursued, and that Gnawbit was, ’tis likely 
 enough, more Pleased than sorry to be Rid of me,—I branched off 
 from the main to the left; so walking, as it seemed to me, many 
 
74 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 miles. I grew nervously hungry. No more Bread or Apples re¬ 
 mained in my pouch; but still 1 had my Guinea, so I deemed, and 
 resolved that if I came upon any House of Entertainment, I would 
 sup. For indeed, while all Nature round me seemed to be taking 
 some kind of Sustenance, it was hard that I, a Christian, should go 
 to bed (or into another Fox-hole, for a bed I had none, and yet had 
 slept in my time in a grand chamber in Hanover Square) with an 
 empty belly. The Earth was beginning to drink up the dews, like 
 an insatiate toper as she is. I passed a flock of sheep biting their 
 hasty supper from the grass; and each one with a little cloud of 
 gnats buzzing around it, that with feeble stings, poor insects, were 
 trying for their supper too. And ’tis effect we have upon one an¬ 
 other. The birds had taken home their worm-cheer to the little ones 
 in the nests, and were singing their after supper songs, very sweetly 
 but drowsily. ’Twas too late in the year for the Nightingale— 
 that I knew—but the jolly Blackbird was in full feather and voice, 
 and presently there swept by me a great Owl, going home to feast, 
 I will be bound, in his hollow tree, and with nothing less than 
 a Field Mouse for his supper, the rascal. ’Twas a wicked imag¬ 
 ining, but I could not help thinking, as I heard the birds carrol¬ 
 ling so merrily—and how they keep so plump upon so little to eat 
 is always to me a marvel, until I remember with what loving care 
 Heaven daily spreads their table from Nature’s infinite ordinary 
 —how choice a Refection a dish of bird’s eggs, so often idly stolen 
 and blown hollow by us boys, would make. The feathered creat¬ 
 ures are a forgiving folk; and ’tis not unlikely that the Children in 
 the Wood had often gone bird’s nesting: but when they were dead, 
 the kindly Red Jerkins forgave all their little maraudings, and 
 covered them with leaves, as though the children had strewn 
 them crumbs or brought them worms from January to December. 
 Gnawbit was a wretch who used to kill the Robins, and for that 
 if for naught else, he will surely howl. 
 
 By and by, when darkness was coming down like a play-house 
 curtain, and the Northern wagoner up yonder—how often have I 
 watched him at sea!—was yoking his seven cart-mares to the stead¬ 
 fast star, I came upon a Man—the first I had seen since the Old 
 Gentleman bade me begone with my Guinea, and join the Blacks. 
 This Man was not walking or running, nay, nor sitting nor lying as 
 Lazars do in hedges. But he tumbled out of the quickset as it were, 
 and came to me with short leaps, making as though he would De¬ 
 vour me. We school-boys had talked often enough about Claude 
 Duval and the Golden Farmer, and X set this Dreadful Being down 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 75 
 
 at once as a Highwayman; so down I went Plump on my knees 
 and Roared for mercy, as I was wont to do to Gnawbit, till I learned 
 that no Roaring would make him desist from his brutish purpose. 
 It was darkish now, and I well-nigh fancied the Man was indeed 
 my wicked Master, for he had an uplifted weapon in his hands, 
 but when he came nearer to me, I found that it was not a cane nor 
 a Ihong, but a Great Flail, which he whirled over his head, and 
 then brought down on the ground with a Thwack, making the 
 Night Flies dance. 
 
 “ You Imp of mischief,” said the man, as he seized me by the 
 collar and shook me roughly, ‘‘what are you doing here, spying 
 on honest folks? Speak, or I’ll brain you with this Flail.” 
 
 I thought it best to tell this terrible man the Truth. 
 
 “ If you please, sir,” I answered, trembling, “ I’ve run away.” 
 
 “ Run away from where, you egg?” 
 
 “ From Gnawbit’s, sir.” 
 
 “ And who the pest is Gnawbit, you hempen babe?” 
 
 “My school-master, sir.” 
 
 “Ha! that’s good,” the Man replied, loosening his hold some¬ 
 what on my collar. “ And what did you run away for?” 
 
 I told him in broken sentences my short Story—of my Suffering 
 at School, at least, but never saying a word about my being a little 
 Gentleman, and the son of a Lady of Quality in Hanover Square. 
 
 “ And where are you going?” the Man asked, when I had fin¬ 
 ished. 
 
 I told him that I was on my way to Charlwood Chase to join 
 the Blacks. And then he asked me whether I had any Money, 
 whereto I answered that I had a Guinea; and little doubting in my 
 Quaking Heart but that he would presently Wrench it from me, 
 if haply he were not minded to have Meal as well as Malt, and brain 
 me as he had threatened. But he forbore to offer me violence, and, 
 quite releasing his hold, said: 
 
 “ I suppose you’d like some supper.” 
 
 I said that I had not broken my fast for many hours, and was 
 dead a-hungered. 
 
 “And wouldn’t mind supping with the Blacks in Charlwood 
 Chase, eh?” he continued. 
 
 I rather gave him to understand that such was not only my Wish 
 but my Ambition. 
 
 “Come along to the Blacks, then,” said the Man. “ I'm one 
 
 of ’m.” 
 
 He drew a Lantern from under his garments as he spoke, and 
 
70 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 letting out the Light from the slide, passed it over, and up and 
 down, his Face and Figure. Then did I see with Horror and Amaze¬ 
 ment that both his Countenance and his Raiment were all 
 smirched and bewrayed with dabs and patches of what seemed soot 
 or blackened grease. It was a once white Smock or Gaberdine 
 that made the chief part of his apparel; and this, with the black 
 patches on it, gave him a Pied appearance fearful to behold. There 
 was on his head what looked like a great bundle of black rags; 
 and tufts of hair that might have been pulled out of the mane of 
 a wild horse grew out from either side of his face, and wreathed 
 its lower half. 
 
 “Come along,” repeated the Man; “ we’ll blacken you bravely 
 in time, my Chicken-skin.” 
 
 And so he grasped my hand in his—and when I came to look at 
 it afterward, I found it smeared with sable, and with great black 
 finger-marks upon it—and led me away. We journey on in the 
 Dark—for he had put up his Lantern—for another good half hour, 
 he singing to himself from time to time some hoarse catches of song 
 having reference to some “ Billy Boys,” that 1 conjectured were his 
 companions. And so we struck from by-lane into by-lane, and 
 presently into a Plantation, and then through a gap in a Hedge, and 
 through a Ditch full of Brambles, which galled my legs sorely. I 
 was half asleep by this time, and was only brought to full wake¬ 
 fulness by the deep baying as of a Dog some few yards, as it 
 seemed, from us. 
 
 The Lantern’s light gleamed forth again; and in the circle of Clear 
 it made I could see we were surrounded by tall Trees that with 
 their long crooked Arms looked as though they would entwine me 
 in deadly embraces. 
 
 “ Hist!” the man said very low. “ That’s surely Black Towzer’s 
 tongue.” And to my huge dismay he set up a sad responsive 
 Howl, very like unto that of a Dog, but not at all akin to the voice 
 of a Man. 
 
 The answer to this was a whistle, and human speech, saying, 
 
 “ Black Jowler!” 
 
 “ Black Towzer, for a spade Guinea!” my companion made an¬ 
 swer; and in another moment there came bounding toward us an¬ 
 other fellow in the same blackened masquerade as he, and with 
 another Lantern. He had with him, besides, a shaggy hound that 
 smelled me suspiciously and prowled round me, growling low, I 
 shivering the whiles. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 77 
 
 “ What have we here?” asked the Second Black; for I made no 
 doubt now but that my Company were of that Confederacy. 
 
 “ Kid loose,” replied he who was to take me to supper. “ Given 
 the keepers the slip, and run down by Billy Boys’ park. Alia!” 
 and he whispered his comrade ruffian. 
 
 Out went the Lanterns again, and he who answered to the name 
 of Jowler tightened his grasp, and bade me for a young Tyburn 
 Token quicken my pace. So we walked and-walked again, poor I 
 as sore as a pilgrim tramping up the Hill to Louth—which I have 
 many times seen in those parts—with shards in his shoes. Then it 
 must come, forsooth, to more whistling; and the same Play being 
 over, we had one more Lantern to our Band, and one more Scurvy 
 Companion as Black as a Flag,* who in their kennel Tongue was 
 Mungo. And by and by we were joined by Surly, and Black Tom, 
 and Grumps; and so with these fire Men, who were pleased to be 
 called as the Beasts are, I stumbled along, tired, and drowsy, and 
 famisittffg, and thinking my journey would never come to an end. 
 
 Surely it must have been long past midnight when we made a 
 halt; and all the five lanterns being lit, and making so many danc¬ 
 ing wheels of yellow, I found that we were still encircled by those 
 tall trees with the twining arms. And Jowler—for it is useless to 
 speak of my conductor according to Human Rule—gave me a rough 
 pat on the shoulder, and bade me cheer up, for that I should have 
 my supper very soon now. All five then joined in a whistle so 
 sharp, so clear, and so well sustained, that it sounded well-nigh 
 melodious; and to this there came, after the lapse of a few seconds, 
 the noise as of a little peevish Terrier barking. 
 
 “ True as Touchwood,” cried Black Jowler. “In, Billy Boys, 
 and hey for fat and flagons.” 
 
 With this he takes me by the shoulders, telling me to fear naught, 
 and spend my money like a gentleman, and bundles me before him 
 till we came to something hard, as board. This I presently found 
 was a door; and in an instant I was in the midst of a kind of Tavern 
 parlor, all lighted up with great candles stuck into lumps of clay, 
 and face to face with the Fattest Woman I ever saw in my life. 
 
 ‘‘Mother Moll Drum,” quoth my conductor, “save you, and 
 give me a quart of three threads, or I faint. Body o’ me, was ever 
 green plover so pulled as I was.” 
 
 The Fat Woman he called Mother Moll Drum was to all seeming 
 
 * “ My Flag ” in the original MS.; but I put it down as a slip of the pen, and 
 altered it.—G. A. S. 
 
78 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS, 
 
 in no very blessed temper; for she bade Jowler go bang for a lean 
 polecat, and be cursed meanwhile, and that she would draw him 
 naught. 
 
 “Come, come. Mother,” Jowler said, making as though to ap¬ 
 pease her, “ what be these tantrums? Come, draw; for I am as 
 thirty as an hour-glass, poor wretch, that has felt sand run through 
 his gullet any time these twenty years.” 
 
 “ Draw for yourself, rogue, ’ ’ says Mother Drum; “ there’s naught 
 I’ll serve you with, unless, indeed, I were bar-woman at St. Giles’s 
 Pound, and hath to froth you your last quart, as you went up the 
 Heavy Hill to Tyburn.” 
 
 “ We shall all go therein time—good time,” breaks in a deep 
 solemn voice, drawn somehow through the nose, and coming from 
 the Man-Dog they called Grumps; “ meanwhile, O greasy woman, 
 let the beverage our brother asked for be drawn, and even Grumps, 
 will partake thereof, and ask a blessing.” 
 
 “Woman yourself!” cries Moll Drum, in a rage. “Woman 
 yourself, and T— in your teeth, and to the mother that bore you, 
 and sat in the stocks for Lightness! Who are you, quotha, old 
 reverend smock with the splay foot? Come up, now, prithee, Bride¬ 
 well Bird! You will drink, will you? I saw no dust or cobwebs 
 come out of your mouth. Go hang, you moon-calf, false faucet, 
 you roaring horse-courser, you ranger of Turnbull, you dull malt- 
 house with a mouth of a peck and the sign of the swallow above. ’ ’ 
 
 By this time Mother Drum was well-nigh out of breath, and 
 panted, and looked so hot, that they might have put her up by 
 Temple Bar on Queen Bess’s birthnight for a Bonfire, and so saved 
 Tar Barrels. And as she spoke she brandished a large Frying Pan, 
 from which great drops of hot grease—smelling very savory by the 
 way—dropped on to the sanded floor. The other Blacks seemed in 
 nowise disturbed by this Dispute, but were rather amused thereby, 
 and gathered in a ring round Jowler and Grumps and the Fat 
 Woman laughing. 
 
 “Never mind, Mother Drum,” quoth one; “she was a pig- 
 woman once in Bartlemy Fair, and lost her temper through the 
 heat of a coal-fire roasting porkers. Was’t not hot, Mother Drum? 
 was not Tophet a kind of cool cellar to it ?’ ’ 
 
 It was Surly who spoke, and Mother Drum turns on him in a 
 rage. 
 
 “ You lie, you panniersman’s by-blow!” she cried; “ you bony 
 muck-fowl, with the bony back sticking out like the ace of spades 
 on the point of a small sword! you lie, Bobchin, Changeling, Horse- 
 
CAPTAIN DANC4EB0US. 
 
 79 
 
 leech! ’Slid, you Shrovetide Cutpurse, I’ll scald your hide with 
 gravy, I will!” 
 
 “ Ware the pan, ware the pan!” all the Blacks cried out; for the 
 Good Woman made a flourish as though she would have carried out 
 her threat; whereupon my Man-Dog, Jowler, thought it was lime 
 to interpose, and spoke. 
 
 “ There’s no harm in Mother Drum, but that her temper’s as hot 
 as her pan, and we are late to supper. Come, Mother, Draw for 
 us, and save you still. I’ll treat you to burned brandy after¬ 
 ward. ’ ’ 
 
 “ What did he call me Pig-Woman for?” she grumbled, but still 
 half mollified. “What if I did waste my youth and prime in 
 cooking of porkers in a booth; I am no cutpurse. I, I never shoved 
 the tumbler for tail-drawing or poll-snatcliing on a levee-day.* But 
 I wifi draw for you, and welcome my guests of the game. ’ * 
 
 “ And Supper, good Moll, Supper,” added Jowler. 
 
 ‘ ‘ An you had not hindered me, it would have been ready up¬ 
 stairs. There are more upstairs besides you that hunger after the 
 fat and the lean. But can you sup without a cook? Will venison 
 run off the spit ready roasted, think you, like the pigs in Lubber- 
 land, that jump down your throat, and cry wee wee?” 
 
 She began to bustle about, and summoned, by the name of Cicely 
 Grip—adding thereto the epithet of ‘ ‘ faggot ’ ’—a stout serving-lass, 
 who might have been comely enough, but whose face and hands 
 were very nearly as black as those of the Man-Dog’s. This wench 
 brought a number of brown jugs full of beer, and the Blacks took 
 to drinking with much zest. Then Jowler, who seemed a kind of 
 lieutenant, in some authority over them, gave the word of com¬ 
 mand to “ Peel;” and they hastened to leave the room, which was 
 but a mean sort of barn-like chamber, with bare walls, a wattled 
 roof, and a number of rough wooden tables and settles, all littered 
 with jugs and Tobacco-pipes. So I and the Fat Woman and Jowl¬ 
 er, Cicely Grip having betaken herself to the kitchen, were left to¬ 
 gether. 
 
 “ Cicely will dish up, Mother Drum,” he says; “ you have fried 
 collops enow for us, I trow; and if more are wanted for the Billy 
 Boys, you can to your pan again. You began your brandy pottage 
 
 * Madame Drum, so far as I can make out the argot of the day, here insinu¬ 
 ated that her opponent had been corrected at the cart’s tail for stealing swords 
 out of the scabbards, and conveying wigs from the heads of their owners; two 
 crimes which have become obsolete since the Quality have ceased, to wear 
 swords and periwigs.—G. A. S, 
 
80 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 too early to-night, Mother. Let us have no more of your vapors 
 twixt this and day-break, prithee. What would Captain Night 
 say?” 
 
 “ Captain Night be hangecl!” 
 
 “ He will be hanged, as our brother Surly has it, in good time, I 
 doubt it not. Meanwhile, order must be kept at the Stag o’ Tyne. 
 Get you and draw the dram I promised you; and, Mother, wash for 
 me this little lad’s face and hands, that he may sit down to meat 
 with us in a seemly manner. ’ ’ 
 
 “Who the Clink is he?” asked Mother Drum, eying me with 
 no very Great Favor. 
 
 “ He says he is little Boy Jack,” answered Mr. Jowler gravely. 
 “We will give him another name before we have done with him. 
 Meantime he has a guinea in his pocket to pay his shot, and that’s 
 enough for the fat old Alewife of the Stag o’ Tyne.” 
 
 “Fat again!” muttered Mother Drum. “ Is it a ’Sizes matter 
 lobe full of flesh? I be fal indeed,” she ansv-ered with a sigh, 
 “ and must have a chair let out o’ the sides for me, that these poor 
 old hips may have play. And I, that was of so buxom a figure.” 
 
 “ Never mind your Figure, Mother, ” remarked my Conductor, 
 “ but do my bidding. I’ll e’en go and peel too;” and without more 
 ado he leaves us. 
 
 Mother Drum went into her kitchen and fetched forth a Tin Bowl 
 full of hot suds, and with these she washed me as she had been di¬ 
 rected. I bore it all unresistingly—likewise a scrubbing with a 
 rough towel. Then, when my hair was kempt with an old Felting 
 comb, almost toothless, I felt refreshed and hungrier than ever. 
 But Mother Drum never ceased to complain of having been called 
 fat. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Time was, my smooth-faced Coney, ’ ’ she said, ‘ ‘ that I was as 
 lithe and limber as you are, and was called Jaunty Peg. And now 
 poor old Moll cooks collops for those that are born to dance jigs in 
 chains for the north-east wind to play the fiddle to. Time was 
 when a whole army followed me, when I beat the drum before the 
 great Duke.” 
 
 “ What Duke?” I asked, looking up at her great red face. 
 
 “ What Duke, milksop! Why, who should I mean but the Duke 
 that won Hochstedt and Ramifies:—the Ace of Trumps, my dear, 
 that saved the Queen of Hearts, the good Queen Anne, so bravely. 
 What Duke should I mean but John o’ Malborough?” 
 
 “ I bave seen him, ’ ’ I said, with childish gravity, 
 
CAPTAIN 1)A ngerous. 
 
 81 
 
 “Seen him! when and where, loblolly boy? You’re too young 
 to have been a drummer. ’ ’ 
 
 “I saw him,’’I answered, blushing and stammering; “ I saw 
 him when—when I was a little Gentleman. ’ ’ 
 
 “ Lord save us!” cries Mother Drum, bursting into a jolly laugh. 
 “ A Gentleman! since when, your lordship, I pray? But we’re all 
 Gentlefolks here, I trow; and Captain Night’s the Marquis of 
 Aylesbury Jail. A Gentleman! oho!” 
 
 Hereupon, and which, to my great relief, quitted me of the per¬ 
 turbation brought on by a Rash Admission, there came three knock 
 from above, and Mother Drum said hurriedly, “Supper, supper;” 
 and opening a side-door, pushes me bn to a staircase, and tells me 
 to mount, and pull a reverence to the company I found at table. 
 
 Twenty steps brought me to another door I found on the jar, and 
 I passed into a great room with a roof of wooden joists, and a vast 
 table in the middle set out with supper. There was no table-cloth; 
 but there were plenty of meats smoking hot in great pewter dishes. 
 I never saw, either, so many bottles and glasses on one board in my 
 life; and besides these, there was good store of great shining 
 Flagons, carved and chased, which I afterward knew to be of Solid 
 Silver. 
 
 Round this table were gathered at least Twenty Men; and but 
 for their voices I should never have known that five among them 
 were my companions of just now. For all were attired in a very 
 brave Manner, wore wigs and powder and embroidered waistcoats; 
 although, what I thought strange, each man dined in boots, with a ' 
 gold-laced hat on his head, and his Hanger by his side, and a brace 
 of Pistols on the table beside him. Yet I must make two exceptions 
 to this rule. He whom they called Surly had on a full frizzed wig 
 and a cassock and bands, that, but for his rascal face, would have 
 put me in mind of the Parson at St. George’s Hanover Square, 
 who always seemed to be so angry with me. Surly was Chaplain, 
 and said Grace, and eat and drank more than any one there. Lastly, 
 at the table’s head sat a thin, pale, proper kind of a man, wearing 
 his own hair long in a silken club, dressed in the pink of Fashion, 
 as though he were bidden to a birthday, with a dandy rapier at his 
 side, and instead of Pistols, a Black Velvet Visor laid by the side of 
 his plate. He had very large blue eyes and very fair hair. He 
 might have been some thirty-five years old, and the guests, who 
 treated him with much deference, addressed him as Captain Night. 
 
 Mr. Jowler, whose hat had as brave a cock as any there, made 
 ine sit by him; and, with three more knocks and the Parson/g 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 82 
 
 Grace, we all fell to supper. They helped me plentifully, and I eat 
 my fill. Then my friend gave me a silver porringer full of wine- 
 and-water. It was all very good; but I knew not what viands I 
 was eating, and made bold to ask Jowler. 
 
 “ ’Tis venison, boy, that was never shot by the King’s keeper,” 
 he answered. “ But, if you would be free of Chari wood Chase, 
 and wish to get out yet with a whole skin, I should advise you to 
 eat your meat and ask no questions.” 
 
 I was very much frightened at this, and said no more until the 
 end of Supper. When they had finished, they fell to drinking of 
 Healths, great bowls of Punch being brought to them for that pur¬ 
 pose. The first toast was the King, and that fell to Jowler. 
 
 “ The King!” says he, rising. 
 
 “ Over the water?” they ask. 
 
 “ No,” answers Jowler. “ The King everywhere. King James, 
 and God bless him. ’ ’ 
 
 “ I won’t drink that,” objects the Chaplain. “ You know I am 
 a King George man.” 
 
 “ Drink the Foul Fiend, an’ you will,” retorts the Proposer. 
 “You’d be stanch and true either way. Now, Billy Boys, the 
 King.” 
 
 And they fell to tumbling down on their knees, and drinking His 
 Majesty in brimming bumpers. I joined in the ceremony perforce, 
 although I knew nothing about King James, save that Monarch my 
 Grandmother used to speak about, who Withdrew himself from 
 these kingdoms in the year 1688; and at Church ’twas King George 
 they were wont to pray for, and not King James. And little did I 
 ween that, in drinking this Great Person on my knees, I was dis¬ 
 obeying the Precept of my dear dead Kinswoman. 
 
 “ I have a bad foot,” quoth Captain Night, “ and can not stir 
 from my chair; but I drink all healths that come from loyal hearts.” 
 
 Many more Heallhs followed. The Chaplain gave the Church, 
 “ and confusion to Old Rapine, that goes about robbing chancels of 
 their chalices, and parsons of their dues, and the very poor-box of 
 alms.” And then they drank “ Vert and Venison,” and then, 
 “ A black face, a white smock, and a red hand.” And then they 
 betook themselves to Roaring choruses, and Smoking and Drinking 
 galore, until I fell fast asleep in my chair. 
 
 I woke up not much before Noon the next day, in a neat little 
 chamber very cleanly appointed; but found to my surprise that, in 
 addition to my own clothes, there was laid by my bedside a little 
 Smock or Gaberdine of coarse linen, and a bowlful of some sooty 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 83 
 
 stuff that made me shudder to look at. And my Surprise was 
 heightened into amazed astonishment when, having donned my own 
 garments, and while curiously turniDg over the Gaberdine, there 
 came a knock, and anon stepped into the room that same comely 
 Servant-maid that had ridden with us in the Wagon six months 
 since, on that sad journey to school, and that had been so kind to 
 me in the way of new milk and cheesecakes. 
 
 She was very smartly dressed, with a gay flowered apron, and a 
 fly-cap all over glass-beads, like so many Blue-bottles. And she 
 had a gold brooch in her stomacher, and fine thread hose, and red 
 Heels to her shoes. 
 
 She was as kind to me as ever, and told me that I was among 
 those who would treat me well, and stand my friends, if I obeyed 
 their commands. And I, who, I confess, had by this time begun 
 to look on the Blacks and their Ways with a kind of School-boy 
 glee, rose, nothing loath, and donned the Strange Accouterments my 
 entertainers provided for me. The girl helped me to dress, smiling 
 and giggling mightily the while; but, as I dressed, I could not help 
 calling her by the name she had given me in the Wagon, and ask¬ 
 ing how she had come into that strange Place. 
 
 “ Hush, hush!” says she. “ I’m Marian now, Maid Marian, that 
 lives with Mother Drum, and serves the Gentlemen Blacks, and 
 brings Captain Night his morning Draught. None of us are called 
 by our real names at the Stag o’ Tyne, my dear. We all are in 
 No-man’s-land.” 
 
 “ But where is No-man’s-land, and what is the Stag o’ Tyne?” I 
 asked, as she slipped the Gaberdine over my head. 
 
 “ No-man’s-land is just in the left-hand top Corner of Chari wood 
 Chase, after you have turned to the left, and gone as far forward 
 as you can by taking two steps backward for every one straight 
 on,” answers the saucy hussy. “And the Stag o’Tyne’s even a 
 Christian House of Entertainment that Mother Drum keeps.” 
 
 “ And who is Mother Drum?” I resumed, my eyes opening wider 
 than ever. 
 
 “ A decent Alewife, much given to grease, and that cooks the 
 King’s Venison fcr Captain Night and his Gentlemen Blacks.” 
 
 “ And Captain Night—who is he?” 
 
 “Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies,” she makes 
 reply. “ Captain Night is a Gentleman every inch of him, and as 
 sure as Tom o’ Ten Thousand.” 
 
 “ And the Gentlemen Blacks?” 
 
 “You’re mighty particular,” quoth she, regarding me with a 
 
84 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS, 
 
 comical look. “ Well, my dear, since 3^011 are to be a Black your¬ 
 self, and a Gentleman to boot, I don’t mind telling you. The Gen¬ 
 tlemen Blacks are all Bold Hearts, that like to kill the King’s Veni¬ 
 son without a Ranger’s Warrant, and to eat of it without paying 
 Fee nor Royalty, and that drink of the very best—” 
 
 “ And that have Dog-whips to lay about the shoulders of tattling 
 minxes and curious urchins,” cries, to my dismay, a voice behind 
 us, and so to us—by his voice at least—Captain Night, but in his 
 body no longer the same gay spark that I had seen the night before, 
 or rather that morning early. He was as Black, and Hairy, and 
 Savage-looking as any—as Jowler, or any one of that Dark Gang; 
 and in no way differed from them, save that on the middle finger 
 of his Ritght Hand there glittered, from out all his Grease and Soot, 
 a Great Diamond Ring. 
 
 <c Come,” he cries, “ Mistress Nimble Tongue, will you be giving 
 your Red Rag a gallop yet, and Billy Boys waiting to break their 
 Fast? Dispatch, and set out the boy, as I bade you.” 
 
 “ I am no kitchen-wench, I,” answers the Maid of the Wagon, 
 tossing her head. “ Cicely o’ the Cinders yonder wall bring you to 
 your umble-pie, and a Jack of small-beer to cool you, I trow. 
 Was it live Charcoal or Seacoal embers that you swallowed last 
 night, Captain, makes you so dry this morning?” 
 
 “Never mind, Gcody Slack Jaw,” says Captain Night. “I 
 shall be thirstier anon from listening to your prate. Will you hurry 
 now, Gadfly, or is the sun to sink before we get hounds in leash?” 
 
 Thus admonished, the girl takes me by the arm, and, without 
 more ado, dips a rag in the pot of black pigment, and begins to 
 smear all my hands, and face, and throat, with dabs of disguising 
 shade. And, as she bade me do the same to my Garment, and 
 never spare Soot, I fell to work too, making myself into the like¬ 
 ness of a Chimney-boy, till they might have taken me into a nurs¬ 
 ery to Frighten naughty children. 
 
 Captain Night sat by himself on the side of the bed, idly clicking 
 a pistol-lock till such time as he proceeded to load it, the which 
 threw me into a cold tremor, not knowing but that it might be the 
 Custom among the Gentlemen Blacks to blow out the brains in the 
 morning of those they had feasted overnight. Yet, as there never 
 was School-boy, I suppose, but delighted in Soiling of his raiment, 
 and making himself as Black as any Sweep in Whetstone Park, so 
 did I begin to feel something like a Pleasure in being masqueraded 
 up to this Disguise, and began to wish for a Pistol such as Captain 
 
CAPTAIN' DANGEROUS. 
 
 $5 
 
 Night had in his Hand, and such a Diamond Ring as he wore on 
 his finger. 
 
 “ There!” cries the Maid of the Wagon, when I was well 
 Blacked, surveying me approvingly. “ You’re a real imp of Chari- 
 wood Chase now. Ugh! thou young Rig! I’ll kiss you when the 
 Captain brings you home, and good soap and water takes off those 
 mourning weeds before supper-time. ” 
 
 She had clapped a great Deerskin cap on my head, and giving 
 me a friendly pat, was going off, when I could not help asking her 
 in a sly whisper what had become of the Pewterer of Panyer Alley. 
 
 “ What! you remember him, do you?” she returned, with a 
 half smile and a half sigh. “ Well, the Pewterer’s here, and as 
 black as you are. ’ ’ 
 
 “ But I thought you were to wed,” I remarked. 
 
 “Well!” she went on, almost fiercely, “ can not one wed at the 
 Stag o’ Tyne? We have a brave Chaplain down-stairs—as good as 
 a Fleet Parson any day, I wuss.” 
 
 “ But the Pewterer?” I persisted. 
 
 “I’ll hang the Pewterer round thy neck!” she exclaimed, in a 
 pet. “ The Pewterer was unfortunate in his business, and so took 
 to the Road; and thus we have all come together in Chari wood 
 Chase. But ask me no more questions, or Captain Night will be 
 deadly angry. Look, he fumes already.” 
 
 She tripped away saying this, and in Time, I think;- for indeed 
 the Captain was beginning to show signs of impatience. She being 
 gone, he took me on his knee, all Black as I was, and in a voice 
 kind enough, but full of authority, bade me tell him all my History 
 and the bare truth, else would he have me tied neck and heels and 
 thrown to the fishes. 
 
 So I told this strange Man all—of Hanover Square, and my earli¬ 
 est childhood. Of the Unknown Lady, and her Behavior and con¬ 
 versation, even to her Death. Of her Funeral, and the harsh bear¬ 
 ing of Mistress Talmasli and the Steward Cadwallader unto me in 
 my Helplessness and Loneliness. Of my being smuggled away in 
 a Wagon and sent to school to Gnawbit, and of the barbarous 
 cruelty with which I had been treated by that Monster. And 
 finally, of the old Gentleman that used to cry, “ Bear it! bear it!” 
 and of his giving me a Guinea, and bidding me run away. 
 
 He listened to all I had to say, and then putting me down, 
 
 “ A strange story, ” he thoughtfully remarks, “and not learned 
 out of the story-books either, or I sorely err. You have not a Ly¬ 
 ing Face, my man. Wait awhile and you’ll wear a Mask thicker 
 
86 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 than all that screen of soot you have upon you now.” But in this 
 he was mistaken; for John Dangerous ever scorned deception, and 
 through life has always acted fair and above-hoard. 
 
 “ And that Guinea,” he continued. “ Hast it still?” 
 
 I answered that I had, producing it as I spoke, and that I was 
 ready to pay my Reckoning, and to treat him and the others, in 
 which, meseems, there spoke less of the little Runaway School-boy 
 that had turned Sweep, than of the Little Gentleman that was wont 
 to be a Patron to his Grandmother’s lackeys in Hanover Square. 
 
 “ Keep thy piece of Gold,” he answers, with a smile. “Thou 
 shalt pay thy footing soon enough. Or wilt thou go forth with thy 
 Guinea and spend it, and be taken by thy School-master to be whip¬ 
 ped, perchance to death?” 
 
 I replied that I had the much rather stay with him and the Gen¬ 
 tlemen. 
 
 “ The less said of the ‘ Gentlemen ’ the better. However, ’tis all 
 one; we are all Gentlemen at the Stag o’ Tyne. Even thou art a 
 Gentleman, little Ragamuff. ’ ’ 
 
 “ I am a Gentleman of long descent; and my fathers have fought 
 and bled for the True King; and Norman blood’s better than Ger¬ 
 man puddle-mud,” I replied, repeating well-nigh Mechanically 
 that which my dear Kinswoman had said to me and Instilled into 
 me many and many a time. In my degraded Slavery, I had well- 
 nigh forgotten the proud old words; but only once it chanced that 
 they had risen up unbidden, when I was flouted and jeered at as 
 Little Boy Jack by my school-mates. Heaven help us, how villain¬ 
 ously cruel are children to those who are of their own age and Poor 
 and Friendless! What is it that makes young hearts so Hard? The 
 boys Derided and mocked me more than ever for thal I said I was 
 a Gentleman; and by and by comes Gnawbit, and beats me black 
 and blue—ay and gory too—with a furze-tub, for telling of Lies, as 
 he falsely said, the Ruffian. 
 
 “Well,” resumed Captain Night, “thou shalt stay with us, 
 young Gentleman. But weigh it soberly, boy,” he continued. 
 “ Thou art old enough to know black from white, and brass from 
 gold. Be advised; know what we Blacks are. We are only Thieves 
 that go about stealing the King’s Deer in Charlwood Chase.” 
 
 I told him that I would abide by him and his Company; and 
 with a grim smile he clapped me on the shoulder, and told me that 
 now indeed I was a Gentleman Black, and Forest Free. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER THE EIGHTH. 
 
 THE END OF MY ADVENTURES AMONG THE BLACKS. 
 
 Were I to give vent to that Garrulity which grows upon us 
 Veterans with Gout and the Gravel, and the kindred Ailments of 
 Age, this Account of my Life would never reach beyond the record 
 of Boyhood. For from the first Flower of my freshest childhood 
 to the time that I became toward to the more serious Business of 
 this World, I think I could set down Day by Day, and well-nigh 
 Hour by Hour, all the things that have occurred to me. How is it 
 that I preserve so keen a Remembrance of a little lad’s joys and 
 sorrows, when I can scarcely recall how many times I have suffered 
 Shipwreck in later age, or tell how many Sansfoy Miscreants, car¬ 
 ing neither for Heaven nor man a Point, I have slain? Nay, from 
 what cause does it proceed that I, upon whom the broken reliques of 
 my School-master’s former Cruelty are yet Green, and who can con¬ 
 jure up all the events that bore upon Running away into Cliarlwood 
 Chase, even to the doggish names of the Blacks, their ribald talk, 
 and the fleering -of the Women they had about them, find it sore 
 travail to remember what I had for dinner yesterday, what friends 
 I conversed with, what Tavern I supped at, what news I read in 
 the “ Gazette”? But ’tis the knowledge of that overweening Craving 
 to count up the trivial Things of my Youth that warns me to use 
 dispatch, even if the chronicle of my after-doings be but a short 
 summary or sketch of so many Perils by Land and Sea. And for 
 this manner of the remotest things being the more distinct and di¬ 
 lated upon, let me put it to a Man of keen vision, if whirling along 
 a High Road in a rapid carriage, he has not marked, first, that the 
 Palings and Milestones close by have passed beneath him in a con¬ 
 fused and jarring swiftness; next, that the Trees, Hedges, etc., of 
 the middle plan (as the limners call it) have moved slower and with 
 more Deliberation, yet somewhat Fitfully, and encroaching on each 
 other’s outlines; whereas the extreme distance in Clouds, Mount¬ 
 ains, far-off Hill-sides, and the like, have seemed remote, indeed, 
 but stationary, clear, and unchangeable; so that you could count 
 the fissures in the hoar rocks, and the very sheep still feeding on 
 the smooth slopes, even as they fed fifty years ago? And who (let 
 his later life have been ever so fortunate) does not preferably dwell 
 on that sharp prospect so clearly yet so light-looming through the 
 Long Avenue of years? 
 
88 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 It was not, I will frankly admit, a very righteous beginning to a 
 young life to be hail-fellow well-met with a Gang of Deer-stealers, 
 and to go careering about the King’s Forest in quest of Venison 
 which belonged to the Crown. Often have I felt remorseful for so 
 having wronged his Majesty (whom Heaven preserve for the safety 
 of these distraught kingdoms!); but what was I, an it please you, 
 to do? Little Boy Jack was just Little Boy Beggar; and for want 
 of proper Training he became Little Boy Thief. Hot that I ever 
 pilfered aught. I was no Candle-snutfer filcher, and, save in the 
 matter of Fat Bucks, the rest of our Gang were, indeed, passing 
 honest. Part of the Venison we killed (mostly with a larger kind 
 of Bird-Bolt, or Arbalest Cross-bow, for through fear of the keep¬ 
 ers we used as little powder and ball as possible) we eat for our 
 Sustenance; for rogues must eat and drink as well as other folks. 
 The greater portion, however, was discreetly conveyed, in carts 
 covered over with garden-stuff, to the market-towns of Uxbridge, 
 Windsor, and Beading, and sold, under the coat-tail as we called 
 it, to Higglers who were in our secret. Sometimes our Merchandise 
 was taken right into London, where we found a good Market with 
 the Fishmongers dwelling about Lincoln’s Inn, and who as they did 
 considerable traffic with the Nobility and Gentry, of whom they 
 took Park Venison, giving them Fish in exchange, were not likely 
 to be suspected of unlawful dealings, or at least were able to make 
 a colorable pretext of Honest Trade to such Constables and Market 
 Conners who had a right to question them about their barterings. 
 From the Fishmongers we took sometimes money and sometimes 
 rich apparel—the cast-off clothes, indeed, of the Nobility, birthday 
 suits or t he like, which were not good enough for the Players of 
 Drury Lane and Lincoln’s Inn, forsooth, to strut about in on their 
 tragedy boards, and which they had therefore bestowed upon their 
 domestics to sell. For our Blacks loved to quit their bewrayed ap¬ 
 parel at supper-time, and to dress themselves as bravely as when I 
 first tasted their ill-gotten meat at the Stag o’ Tyne. From the 
 Higglers, too, we would as willingly take Wine, Strong Waters, 
 and Tobacco, in exchange for our fat and lean, as money; for the 
 Currency of the Kealm was then most wofully clipped and defaced, 
 and our brethren had a wholesome avoidance of meddling with Bank 
 Bills. When, from time to time, one of us ventured to a Market- 
 town, well made-up as a decent Yeoman or Merchant’s Rider, ’twas 
 always payment on the Nail and in sounding money for the reckon¬ 
 ing. We ran no scores, and paid in no paper. 
 
 It was Jong ere I found out that the Wagon in which I had trav- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 80 
 
 eled from the Hercules’ Pillars, to be delivered over to Gnaw bit, 
 was conducted by one of the most trusted Confederates of our Com¬ 
 pany; that he took Venison to town for them, and brought them 
 back the Account in specie or needments as they required. And 
 although I am loath to think that the pretty Servant Maid was alto¬ 
 gether deceiving me when she told me she was going to see her 
 Grandmother, I fancy that she knew Charlwood Chase, and the 
 gentry that inhabited it, as well as she knew the Pewterer in Panyer 
 Alley. He went a-pewtering no more, if ever he had been ’prentice 
 or done journey-work for that trade, but was neither more nor less 
 than one of the Blacks, and Mistress Slyboots, his Flame, kept him 
 company. Although I hope, I am sure, that they were Married by 
 the Chaplain; for, rough as I am, I had ever a Hatred of Unlawful 
 Passions, and when I am summoned on a Jury, always listen to the 
 King’s Proclamation against Vice and Immorality with much gusto 
 and savor. 
 
 I stayed with the Blacks in Charlwood Chase until I grew to be 
 a sturdy lad of twelve years of age. I went out with them and fol¬ 
 lowed their naughty courses, and have stricken down many a fat 
 Buck in my time. Ours was the most jovial but the most perilous 
 of lives. The Keepers were always on our track; and sometimes 
 the Sheriff would call out the Posse Comitatus, and he and half the 
 beef-fed tenant-farmers of the country side would come horsing 
 and hoofing it about the glades to catch us. For weeks together 
 in each year we dared not keep our rendezvous at the Stag, but 
 were fain to hide in Brakes and Hollow Trees, listening to the pur¬ 
 suit as it grew hot and heavy around us; and often with no better 
 Victuals than Pig’s-meat and Ditch-water. But then the search 
 would begin to lag; and two or three of the great Squires round 
 about being well terrified by letters written in a liquid designed to 
 counterfeit Blood, with a great Skull and Cross-bones scrawled at 
 the bottom, the whole signed “ Captain Night,” and telling them 
 that if they dared to meddle with the Blacks their Lives should pay 
 for it, we were left quiet for a season, and could return to our Haunt, 
 there to feast and carouse according to custom. Nor am 1 slow r to 
 believe that some of the tolerance we met with was due to our being 
 known 1o the County Gentry as stanch Tories, and as stanch de¬ 
 testers of the House of Hanover (I speak, of course, of my com¬ 
 panions, for I was of years too tender to have any politics). We 
 never killed a Deer but on the nearest tree some one of us out with 
 his jack-knife and carved on the bark of it, “ Slain by King James’s 
 order;” or, if there were no time for so long a legend, or the Beast 
 
90 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 was stricken in the Open, a simple K. J. (which the Hanover Rats 
 understood well enough, whether cut in the trunk or the turf) 
 sufficed. The Country Gentlemen were then of a very furious way 
 of thinking concerning the Rights of the present Illustrious House 
 to the Throne; hut Times do alter, and so likewise do Men’s thoughts 
 and Opinions, and I dare swear there is no Brunswicker or Church - 
 of-England man more leal at this present writing than John Dan¬ 
 gerous. 
 
 Captain Night, to whom I was a kind of Page or Henchman, used 
 me with much tenderness. Whenever at supper the tongues grew 
 too loosened, and wild talk, and of the wickedest, began to jingle 
 among the bottles and glasses, he would bid me withdraw, and go 
 keep company for a time with Mistress Slyboots. Captain Night 
 was a man of parts and even of letters; and I often wondered why 
 he, who seemed so well fitted to Shine even among the Great, 
 should pass his time among Rogues, and take the thing that was 
 not his. He was often absent from us for many days, sometimes 
 for nigh a month; and would return sunburned and travel-stained, 
 as though he had been journeying in Foreign Parts. He was al¬ 
 ways very thoughtful and reserved after these Gaddiogs about; and 
 Mistress Slyboots, the Maid, used to say that he was in Love, and 
 had been playing the gallant to some fine Madame. But I thought 
 otherwise; for at this season it was his custom to bring back a Yalise 
 full to the very brim of letters and papers, the which he would take 
 Days to read and reread, noting and seemingly copying 'some, but 
 burning the greater portion. At this season he would refrain 
 from joining the Gang, and honorably forswore his share of their 
 plunder, always giving Mother Drum a broal piece for each night’s 
 Supper, Bottle, and Bed. But when his pressing business was 
 over, no man was keener in the chase, or brought down the quarry 
 so skillfully as Captain Night. He loved to have me with him, to 
 talk to and Question me; and it was one clay, after I had told him 
 that the Initial let ter D was the only clue to my Grandmother’s 
 name, which I had seen graven on her Coffin-plate, he must needs 
 
 tell me that if she were Madame (or rather the Lady) D-, I must 
 
 needs, as a Kinsman, be D-too, and that he would piece out the 
 
 name, and call me Dangerous. So that I was Little Boy Jack no 
 more, and John Dangerous I have been from that day to this. Not 
 but what my Ancestry and Belongings might warrant me in as¬ 
 suming another title, than which—so far as lineage counts—Bour¬ 
 bon or Nassau could not rank much higher. But the name of 
 Dangerous has pleased me alway; it has stood me instead in many 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 91 
 
 a hard pass, and I am content to abide by it now that my locks are 
 gray, and the walls of this my battered old tenement are crumbling 
 into decay. 
 
 ’Twas I alone that was privileged to stay with Captain Night 
 when he was doing Secretary’s work among his papers; for, save 
 when Mistress Slyboots came up to him—discreetly tapping at the 
 door first, you may be sure—with a cup of ale and a toast, he would 
 abide no other company. And on such days I wore not my Black 
 Disguisement, but 1 he better clothes he had provided for me—a lit¬ 
 tle Riding Suit of red drugget, silver-laced, and a cock to my hat 
 like a Military Officer—and felt myself as grand as you please. I 
 never dared speak to him until he spoke to me; but used to sit 
 quietly enough sharpening bolls or twisting bowstrings, or clean¬ 
 ing his Pistols, or furbishing up his Hanger and Belt, or such-like 
 boyish pastime-labor. He was careful to burn every paper that he 
 Discarded after taking it from the Yalise; but once, and once only, 
 a scrap remained unconsumed on the hearth, the which, with my 
 ape-like curiosity of half a score summers, I must needs spell over, 
 although I got small good therefrom. ’Twas but the top of a let¬ 
 ter, and all the writing I could make out ran, 
 
 “ St. Germains, August 12th. 
 
 “My dear—’’ 
 
 and here it broke off, and baffled me. 
 
 Whenever Captain Night went a-hunting, I attended upon him; 
 but when he was away, I was confided to the care of Jowler, 
 who, albeit much given to brabble in his liquor, was about the 
 most discreet (the Chaplain always excepted) among the Gang. 
 In the dead season, when Yenison was not to be had, or was nothing 
 worth for the Market if it had been killed, we lived mostly on 
 dried meats and cured salmon; the first prepared by Mother Drum 
 and her maid, the last furnished us by our good friends and 
 Chapmen the Fishmongers about Lincoln’s Inn. And during 
 this same Dead Season, I am glad to say that my Master did not 
 suffer me to remain idle; but, besides taking some pains in tutoring 
 me himself, moved our Chaplain, all of whose humane letters had 
 not been washed out by burned Brandy or fumed out by Tobacco 
 (to the use of which he was immoderately given), to put me through 
 a course of daily instruction. I had had some Latin beaten into 
 me by Gnawbit, when he had nothing of more moment to bestir 
 himself about, and had attained a decent proficiency in reading 
 and writing. Tinder the Chaplain of the Blanks, who swore at 
 
92 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 me grievously, but never, under the direst forbidding, laid finger 
 on me, I became a current scholar enough of my own tongue, 
 with just such a little smattering of the Latin as helped me at a 
 pinch in some of the Secret Dealings of my late career. But Salt 
 Water has done its work upon my Lilly’s Grammar; and although 
 I yield to no man in the Faculty of saying what I mean, ay, and of 
 writing it down in good plain English (’tis true that of your nomi¬ 
 natives and genitives and stuff, I know nothing), I question if I 
 could tell you the Latin for a pair of riding-boots. 
 
 There was a paltry parcel of books at the Stag o’ Tyne, and these I 
 read over and over again at my leisure. There was a ‘' History of the 
 Persecutions undergone by the Quakers,” and Bishop Sprat’s “ Nar¬ 
 rative of the Conspiracy of Blackhead and the others against him.” 
 There was ‘ ‘ Foxe’s Martyrs, ’ ’ and ‘‘ God’s Revenge against Murder” 
 (a very grim tome), and Mr Daniel Defoe’s “ Life of Moll Flanders 
 and Colonel Jack.” These, with two or three Plav-Books, and 
 a Novel by Mrs. Aphra Behn (very scurrilous), a few Ballads, and 
 some ridiculous Chap-books about Knights and Fairies and Dragons, 
 made up the tattered and torn library of our house in Charlwood 
 Chase. ’Twas good enough, you may say, for a nest of Deer-steal¬ 
 ers. Well, there might have been a worse one; but these I can 
 aver, with English and Foreign newspapers and letters, and my 
 Bible in later life, have been all the reading that John Dangerous 
 can boast of. Which makes me so mad against your fine Scholars 
 and Scribblers, who, because they can turn verse and make 
 Te-to-tum into Greek, must needs sneer at me at the Coffee-House, 
 and make a butt of an honest man who has been from one end of 
 the world tu the other, and has fought his way through it to Fort¬ 
 une and Honor. 
 
 I was in the twelfth year of my age when a great change overtook 
 me in my career. Moved, as it would seem, to exceeding Anger and 
 implacable Disgust by the carryings-on of Captain Night and 
 his merry men in Charlwood Chase, the King’s Ministers put forth 
 a Proclamation against us, promising heavy Blood Money to any 
 one who would deliver us, or any one member of the Gang, into 
 the hands of Authority. This Proclamation came at first to little 
 There was no sending a troop of horse into the Chase, and the 
 husbandmen of the country-side were too good Friends of ours to 
 play the Judas. We were not Highway Robbers. Not one of our 
 band had ever taken to or been taken from the Road. Rascals 
 of the Cartouche and Macheatli kidney we Disdained. We were 
 neither Footpads nor Cutpurses, nay, nor Smugglers nor Rick 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 93 
 
 burners. We were only Unfortunate Gentlemen, who much did 
 need, and who had suffered much for our politics and our religion, 
 and had no other means of earning a livelihood than by killing the 
 King’s Deer. Those peasants whom we came across Feared us, 
 indeed, as they would the very Fiend, but bore us no malice; for 
 we alwaj^s treated them with civility, and not rarely gave them 
 the ’Umbles and other inferior parts of the Deer, against their poor 
 Christenings and Lyings-in. And through these means, and some 
 small money presents our Captain would make to their wives and 
 callow brats, it came to pass that Mother Drum had seldom cause 
 to brew aught but the smallest beer for morning drinking; for 
 though we had to pay for our Wine and Ardent Drinks, the cellar 
 of the Stag o’ Tyne was always handsomely furnished with barrels 
 of strong ale, which Lobbin Clout or Colin Mayfly, the Hind or the 
 Plow churl, would bring us secretly by night in their Wains for 
 gratitude. 
 
 I know not where they got the Malt from, but there was narrow 
 a fault to find with the Brew. I recollect its savor now with a 
 sweet tooth, condemned as I am to the inky Hog’s-wash which 
 the Londoners call Porter; and indeed it is fit for Porters to drink, 
 but not for Gentlemen. These Peasants used to tremble all over 
 with terror when they came to the Stag o’ Tyne; but they 
 were always hospitably made welcome, and sent away with full 
 gizzards, ay, and with full heads too, and by potions to which 
 the louts were but little used. 
 
 We had no fear of treachery from these Chawbacons, but we 
 had enemies in the Chase nevertheless. Here dwelt a vagabond tribe 
 of Bastard Venders and Charcoal-burners, savage, ignorant, brutish 
 Wretches, as superstitious as the Manilla Creoles. They were one 
 half gypsies, and one half, or perhaps a quarter, trade-fallen whip- 
 pers-in and keepers that had been stripped of their livery. They 
 picked up their sorry crust by burning of charcoal, and carting 
 of dead wood to farmers for to consume in their ingles. How and 
 again, when any of the Quality came to hunt in the Chase, the 
 Head Keeper would make use of a score or so of them as beaters 
 and rabble-pickers of the game; but nine months out of the twelve 
 they rather starved than lived. These Charcoal- burners hated us 
 Blacks, first, because in our sable disguise we rather imitated their 
 own Beastly appearance—for the varlets never washed from Can¬ 
 dlemas to Shrovetide; next, because we were Gentlemen; and lastly, 
 because we would not suffer them to catch Deer for themselves in 
 pit-falls and springs. Nay, a True Gentleman Black meeting a 
 
94 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS* 
 
 “ Coaley,” as we called the Charcoal fellows, with so much as a 
 hare, a rabbit, or a pheasant with him, let alone venison, would 
 ofttimes give him a sackful of sore bones to carry as well as a game- 
 bag. No “ Coaley ” was ever let to slake his thirst at the Stag o’ 
 Tyne. The poor wretches had a miserable hovel of an inn to their 
 own part on the western outskirts of the Chase, a pla:e b}^ the 
 sign of the Hand and Hatchet, where they ate their rye-bread and 
 drank their sour Clink, when they could muster coppers enough 
 for a two-penny carouse. 
 
 This Proclamation, of which at first we made light, was speedily 
 followed by a real live Act of Parliament, which is yet, I have 
 been told, Law, and is known as the “ Black Act.”* The most 
 dreadful punishments were denounced against us by the House of 
 Lords and Commons, and the Blood Money was doubled. One of 
 the most noted Tliief-takers of that day—almost as great a one as 
 Jonathan Wild—comes down post, and sets up his Standard at 
 Reading, as though he had been King William on the banks of 
 the Boyne. With him he brings a mangy Rout of Constables and 
 Bailiff’s Followers, and other kennel-ranging vagabonds; and now 
 nothing must serve him but to beg of the Commanding Officer at 
 Windsor (my Lord Trehernc) for a loan of two companies of the 
 Foot Guards, who, nothing loath for field-sport and extra pay, 
 were placed, with their captain and all—more shame for a Gentle¬ 
 man to mix in such Hangman’s work!—under Mr. Thief-taker’s 
 orders. He and his Bandogs, ay, and his Grenadiers, might have 
 hunted us through Charlwood Chase until Doomsday but for the 
 treachery of the “ Coaleys.” ’Twas one of their number—named, 
 or rather nicknamed, “the Beau,” because he washed his face on 
 Sunday, and was therefore held to be of the first fashion—who 
 earned eighty pounds by revealing the hour when the whole Gang 
 of Blacks might be pounced upon at the Stag o’ Tyne. The infa¬ 
 mous wretch goes to Aylesbury—for our part of the Chase w r as in 
 the County of Bucks—and my Thief-taking gentleman from Read¬ 
 ing meets him—a pretty couple; and he makes oath before Mr. 
 Justice Cribfee (who should have set him in the Stocks, or deliv¬ 
 ered him over to the Beadle for a vagrant); and after a fine to-do of 
 Sheriff’s business and swearing-in of special constables, the end of 
 it was, that a whole Rout of them, Sheriff, Javelin-men, and Head- 
 
 * See the Statutes at Large. The Black Act was repealed mainly through 
 the exertions of Sir James Macintosh, early in the present century. Under its 
 clauses the going about “ disguised or blackened in pursuit of game ” was 
 made felony without benefit of clergy; the punishment thereof, death.—Ep, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 95 
 
 boroughs and all, with the Grenadiers at their back, came upon 
 us unawares one moonlight night as we were merrily supping at 
 the Stag. 
 
 ’Twas no use showing Fight perhaps, for we were undermanned, 
 some of us being away on the scent, for we suspected some foul 
 play. The constables and other clodhopping Alguazils were all 
 armed to the teeth with Bills and Blunderbusses, Pistols and Hang¬ 
 ers; but had they worn all the weapons in the Horse Armory in 
 the Tower, it would not have saved them from shivering in their 
 shoes when ' ‘ Hard and Sharp ’ ’ was the word, and an encounter 
 with the terrible Blacks had to be endured. We should have made 
 mince-meat of them all, and perhaps hanged up one or two of them 
 outside the inn as an extra signpost. But we were not only un¬ 
 armed, we were overmatched, my hearties. There were the Red¬ 
 coats, burn them! How many times in my life have I been foiled 
 and baffled by those miscreant men-machines in scarlet blank¬ 
 eting! No use in a stout Heart, no use in a strong Hand, no use 
 in a sharp Sword, or a pair of barkers with teeth that never fail, 
 when you have to do with a Soldier. Do! What are you to do 
 with him? There he is, with his shaven face and his hair pow¬ 
 dered, as if he were going to a fourpenny fandango at Bagnigge Wells. 
 There he is, as obstinate as a Pig, and as firm as a Rock, with his 
 confounded bright firelock, bayonet, and crossbelts. There he is,im¬ 
 movable and unconquerable, defying the boldest of Smugglers, the 
 bravest of Gentlemen Rovers, and, by the Lord Harry, he eats you 
 up. Always give the Redcoats a wide berth, my dear, and the 
 Grenadiers more than all. 
 
 Unequal as were the odds, with all these Roaring Dragoons, in 
 scarlet baize, on our trail, we had still a most desperate fight for it. 
 While the mob of Constables kept cowering in the bar-room down¬ 
 stairs, crying out to us to surrender in the King’s name—I believe 
 that one poor creature, the Justice of the Peace, after getting him¬ 
 self well walled up in a corner with chairs and tables, began to 
 quaver out the King’s Proclamation against the Blacks — the 
 plaguy Soldiers came blundering up both pair of stairs, and fell 
 upon us Billy Boys tooth and nail. ’Slid! my blood simmers 
 when I think of it. Over went the tables and settles! Smash went 
 trenchers ana cups and glasses! Clink-a-clink went sword-blades 
 and bayonets! “And don’t fire, my lads!” cries out the Soldier- 
 officer to his Grannies. “We want all these rogues to hang up at 
 Aylesbury Jail.” 
 
 “ Rogue yourself, and back to your Mother!” cries Captain Night, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 96 
 
 very pale; but I never saw him look Bolder or Handsomer. “ Rogue 
 in your Tripes, you Hanover Rat!” and he shortens his sword 
 and rushes on the Soldier-officer. 
 
 The Grenadier Captain was brave enough, but he was but a 
 smock-faced lad fresh from the Mall and St. James’s Guard-room, 
 and he had no chance against a steady practiced Swordsman and 
 Forest Blood, as Captain Night was. We all thought he would 
 make short work of the Soldier-officer. He had him in a corner, 
 and the Chaplain, a-top of whom was a Grenadier trying to throttle 
 or capture him, or both, exclaims, “ Give him the grace-blow, my 
 dear; give it him under the fifth rib!” when Captain Night cries, 
 “ Go home to your mother, Milksop!” and he catches his sword by 
 the hilt, hits his enemy a blow on the right wrist enough to numb 
 it for a month, twists his fingers in his cravat, flings him on one 
 side, and right into the middle of a punch-bowl, and then, upon my 
 word, he, himself, jumps out of Window, shouting out, “ Follow 
 me, little Jack Dangerous!” 
 
 I wished for nothing better, and had already my leg on the sill, 
 when two great hulking Grenadiers seized hold of me. ’Twas then, 
 for the first time, that I earned a just claim and title to the name 
 of Dangerous; for a little dirk I was armed with being wrested 
 from me by Soldier number one, who eggs on his comrade to collar 
 the young Fox-cub, as he calls me, I seize a heavy Stone Demijohn 
 full of brandy, and smash it goes on the head of Soldier number 
 two. He falls with a dismal groan, the blood and brandy running 
 in equal measure from his head, and the first Soldier runs his bayonet 
 through me. 
 
 Luckily, ’twas but a flesh-wound in the flank, and no vital part 
 was touched. It was enough for me, however, poor Urchin— 
 enough to make me tumble down in a dead faint; and when I came 
 to myself, I found that I had been removed to the bar-room down¬ 
 stairs, where I made one of nineteen Blacks, all prisoners to the 
 King for stealing his Deer, and all bound hand and foot with 
 Ropes. 
 
 “Never mind their hurting your wrists, young Hempseed,” 
 chuckled one of the scaldpated constable rogues who was guarding 
 us. “ You’ll have enough to tighten your gullet after ’Sizes, as 
 sure as eggs is eggs. ’ ’ 
 
 “Nay, brother Grimstock, the elf’s too young to be hanged,” 
 puts in another constable, with somewhat of a charitable visage. 
 
 “ Too young!” echoed he addressed as Grimstock. “ ’Twas bred 
 in the bone of him, the varmint, and the Gallows Fever will come 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 97 
 
 out in the flesh. Too young! he was weaned on rue, and rode 
 between his Father’s legs (that swung) i’ the cart to Tyburn, and 
 never sailed a cockboat but in Execution Dock. My tobacco-box 
 to a tester an’ he dance not on nothing if he comes to holding up 
 his hand before Judge Blackcap, that never spared but one in the 
 Calendar, and then ’twas by Mistake.” 
 
 These were not very comfortable news for me, poor manacled 
 wretch; and with a great bayonet-wound in my side to boot, that 
 had been but clumsily dressed by a village Leech, who was, I 
 suspect, a Farrier and a Cow Doctor as well. But I have always 
 found, in this life’s whirligig, that when your Case is at the worst 
 (unless a Man indeed Dies, when there is nothing more to be done) 
 it is pretty sure to mend, if you lie quiet and let things take their 
 chance. I could not be much worse off than I was, wounded and 
 friendless and a captive; and so I held my tongue, and let them 
 use me as they would. Some scant comfort was it, however, to 
 find, when the battle-field was gone over, that, besides the Grenadier 
 whose crown we had cracked, another had been pistoled by Jowler, 
 and lay mortally wounded and Groaning Dismally. Poor Jowler 
 himself would never pistol Foe more. He was dead; for the 
 Men of War, furious at our desperate Resistance, at the worsting 
 of their fine-feathered officer (who was mumbling of his bruised 
 hand as a down-trodden Hound would its paw, and cursing mean¬ 
 while, which Dogs use not to do), and driven to Mad Rage by the 
 escape of Captain Night, had fired pell-mell into a Group of which 
 Jowler made one, and so killed him. A bullet through his brain 
 set him clean quit of all indictments under the Black Act, before 
 our Sovereign Lord the King. Likewise was it a matter of re¬ 
 joicing for our party that, after long seeking the Traitor Coaley, 
 the wretched ‘ ‘ Beau ’ ’ was found duly strangled, and completely 
 a corpse on the staircase. There was something curious about the 
 manner of justice coming to this villain. The Deed had been done 
 with no weapon more Lethal than an old Stocking; yet so tightly 
 was it tied round his false neck, that it had to be cut off piecemeal, 
 and even then the ribs of the worsled were found to be Imbedded, 
 and to have made Furrows in his flesh. Now it is certain that we 
 Blacks had not laid about us with old Wives’ hose, any more than 
 we had lunged at our enemies with knitting-needles. There, how¬ 
 ever, was Monsieur Judas, as dead as a Dolphin two hours on deck. 
 Lord, what an ugly countenance had the losel when they came to 
 ■wash the charcoal off him! As to who had forestalled the Hangman 
 in his office, no certain testimony could be given. I have always 
 
98 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 found at Sea, when any doubts arise as to the why and the where¬ 
 fore of a gentleman’s death, that the best way to settle accounts is 
 to fling him overboard; but on dry land your plaguy Dead Body is 
 a sore Stumbling Block and Impediment, always turning up when 
 it is not Wanted, and bringing other Gentlemen into all kinds of 
 trouble. Crowner’s Quest was held on the “ Beau;” and I only 
 wonder that they did not bring it in murder against Me. The jury 
 sat a long time without making up their minds, till the Parish con¬ 
 stable ordered them in a bowl of Flip, upon which they proceeded 
 to bring in a verdict of Willful Murder against some person or per¬ 
 sons unknown. I can scarcely, to this day, bring myself to suspect 
 my pretty maid, that should have married the Pewterer, of such a 
 bold Act, and the rather believe that it was the girl Grip and her 
 Mistress that worked off the Spy and Traitor between them. Not 
 that Mother Drum would have needed any assistance in the mere 
 doing of the thing. She was a Mutton-fisted woman, and as strong 
 in the forearm as a Bridewell eorrectioner. 
 
 0, the dreary journey we made that morning to Aylesbury! 
 The Men Blacks were tied back to back, and thrown into such carts 
 as could be pressed into the service from the farmsteads on the skirts 
 of the Chase. One of the constables must needs offer, the Scoundrel, 
 to take horse and go borrow a cartload of fetters from the jailer at 
 Reading; but he was overruled, and Ropes were thought strong 
 enough to confine us. There was no chance, alas, of any rescue; 
 for those of our comrades who had been fortunate enough through 
 absence to avoid capture, had doubtless by this time scent of the 
 Soldiers, and there was no kicking against those bright Firelocks 
 and Bayonets. Yet had there been another escape. Cicely Grip 
 and Mother Drum were taken, but the pretty maid I loved so for 
 her kindness to me when I was Forlorn had shown a clean pair of 
 heels, and was nowhere to be found. Good luck to her, I thought. 
 Perchance she has met with Captain Night, and they are Safe and 
 Sound by this time, and off to Foreign Parts. For in all this I 
 declare I saw nothing Wrong, and held, by'my baby logic, that 
 we Blacks had all been very harshly entreated by the Constables and 
 Redcoats, and that it was a shame to use us so. Mother Drum, 
 the Wench, and my poor wounded Self, were put into one cart 
 together, and through Humanity, a Sergeant*(for the Constables 
 would not have done it) bade his men litter down some straw for 
 us to lie upon. There was a ragged Tilt too over the cart; and 
 thinks I, in a Grewsome manner, “ The first time you rode on straw 
 under a Tilt, Jack, you were going to school, and now, ’ifegs, you 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 99 
 
 are going to be Hanged. ” For it was settled on all sides, and even 
 he with the Charitable Countenance came to be of that mind at last, 
 that my fate was to die by the Cord. 
 
 “ Why,” says one, “ you’ve half brained Corporal Foss with the 
 Demijohn; never did liquor get into a pretty man’s head so soon 
 and so deep. They’ll stretch your neck for this, my poult—they 
 will.” 
 
 The Sergeant, interposing, said that perhaps, if interest were made 
 for me, I might be spared an Indictment, and let to go and serve 
 the King as a Drummer till I was old enough to carry a firelock. 
 But at this the soldiers shook their heads; for Captain Popinjay, 
 their officer, was, it seems, still in a towering rage at having had 
 his fine-lady’s hand so wofully mauled by Captain Night, and vowed 
 vengeance against the whole crew of poachers and their whelp, as 
 he must needs be Polite enough to call me. 
 
 This Fine Gentleman had been provided with a Horse by the 
 Sheriff, and, as he rode by the cart where I and Drum and the Girl 
 were jogging on, he spies me under the Tilt, and in his cruel man¬ 
 ner makes a cut at me with his riding-wand, calling me a young 
 spawn of Thievery and Rebellion. 
 
 “ You coward,” I cried in a passion; “ you daren’t do that if my 
 hands were loose, and I hadn’t this baggonet-wound in me.” 
 
 “ Shame to hit the boy,” growled the charitable Constable, who 
 was on horseback too. 
 
 The Soklier-officer turned round quickly to see who had spoken; 
 but the Sergeant, who watched him, pointed with his halbert to the 
 Constable, and he returned the Captain’s glance with a sturdy mien. 
 So my Fine Gentleman reins-in his beast and lets us pass, eying his 
 hand, which was all wrapped up in Bandages, and muttering that 
 it was well none of his own fellows had given him this sauciness. 
 
 The day was a dreadful one. How many times our train halted 
 to bait I know not; but this I know, that I fainted often 'from 
 Agony of my wound-and the uneasy motion of my carriage. It is 
 a wonder that I ever came to my journey’s end alive, and in all 
 likelihood never should, but for the unceasing care and solicitude 
 of the two poor women who were with me, Prisoners like myself, 
 but full of merciful kindness for one who was in a sorer strait than 
 they. By earnest pleading did Mother Drum persuade the Head 
 Constable—who, the nearer we got to jail the more authority he 
 took, and the less he seemed to think of our soldier escort—to allow 
 her hands to be unbound that she might minister unto me; and also 
 did she obtain so much grace as for some of the Money belonging 
 
100 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 unto her, and which had been seized at the Stag o’ Tyne, to be spent 
 in buying of a bottle of brandy at one of our halting-places, with 
 which she not only comforted herself and her afflicted Maid, but, 
 mingling it with water, cooled my parched tongue and bathed my 
 forehead. 
 
 Brandy was the only medicament this good soul knew; and more 
 lives, she averred, had been saved by Bight Nantz than lost by bad 
 B. W.; but still brandy was not precisely the kind of physic to give 
 a Patient who before Sundown was in a Raging Fever. But ’twas 
 all one to the Law; and coming at last to my journey’s end, we 
 were all, the wounded and the whole, flung into jail to answer for 
 it at the ’Sizes. 
 
 CHAPTER THE NINTH. 
 
 I AM VERY NEAR BEING HANGED. 
 
 Our prison was surely the most loatlisome'hole that Human be¬ 
 ings were ever immured in. It was a Horrible and Shameful Place, 
 conspicuous for such even in those days, when every prison was a 
 place of Horror and Shame. ’Twas one of the King’s Prisons— 
 one of His Majesty’s Jails—the county had nothing to do with it; 
 and the Keeper thereof was a Woman. Say a Tigress rather; but 
 Mrs. Macpliilader wore a hoop and lappets and gold ear-rings, and 
 was dubbed “ Madame ” by her Underlings. Here you might at 
 any time have seen poor Wretches chained to the floor of reeking 
 dungeons, their arms, legs, necks even, laden with irons, them¬ 
 selves abused, beaten, jeered at, drenched with pailfuls of foul 
 water, and more than three-quarter starved, merely for not being 
 able to pay Garnish to the Jaileress, or comply with her other exor¬ 
 bitant demands. Fetters, indeed,' were common and Fashionable 
 Wear in the Jail. ’Twas pleaded that the walls of the prison were 
 so rotten through age, and the means of guarding the prisoners—for 
 they could not be always calling in the Grenadiers—so limited, that 
 they must needs put the poor creatures in the bilboes, or run the 
 chance of their escaping every day in the week. Thus it came to 
 pass, even, that they were tried in Fetters, and sometimes could not 
 hold up their hands (weakened besides by the Jail Distemper), at 
 the bidding of the Clerk of the Arraigns, for the weight of the 
 Manacles that were upon them. And it is to the famous and ad¬ 
 mirable Mr. John Howard that we owe the putting down of this last 
 Abomination. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 101 
 
 We lay so long in tliis dreadful place before a Jail Delivery was 
 made, that my wound, bad as il was, had ample time to heal, leav¬ 
 ing only a great indented cicatrix, as though some Giant had forced 
 his finger into my flesh, and of which I shall never be rid. Two 
 more of our Gang died of the Jail Fever before Assize time; one 
 was so fortunate as to break prison, file the irons off his legs, and 
 get clear away; and another (who was always of a Melancholy turn) 
 hanged himself one morning, in a halter made from slips of his 
 blanket knotted together. The rest of us were knocked about by 
 the Turnkeys, or abused by the Jaileress, Mrs. Macphilader, pretty 
 much as they liked. We were, however, not so badly off as some 
 of the poor prisoners—sheep-stealers, footpads, vagrom men and 
 women, and the like, or even as some of the poor Debtors—many 
 of whom lay here incarcerate years after they had discharged the 
 Demands of their Creditors against them, and only because they 
 could not pay their Fees.- We Blacks were always well supplied 
 with money; and money could purchase almost anything in a prison 
 in those days. Roast meats, and wine and beer and punch, pipes 
 and tobacco, and playing cards and song-books—all these were to 
 be had by Gentlemen Prisoners; the Jaileress taking a heav}^ toll, 
 and making a mighty profit from all these luxurious things. But 
 there was one thing that money could not buy, namely, cleanly 
 lodging; for the State Room, a hole of a place very meanly fur¬ 
 nished, where your great Smugglers or ruffling Highwaymen were 
 sometimes lodged, at a guinea a day for their accommodation, was 
 only so much better than the common room in so far as the prisoner 
 had bed and board to himself; but for nastiness and creeping things 
 —which I wonder, so numerous were they, did not crawl away 
 with the wdiole prison bodily; but ’tis hard to find those that are 
 unanimous, even Vermin. For all that made the Jail most thor¬ 
 oughly hateful and dreadful, there was not a pin to choose between 
 the State Room, the Common Side, and the Rat’s Larder, Clink, or 
 Dark Dungeon, where the Poor were confined in wantonness, and 
 the Stubborn were kept sometimes for punishment; for Madame 
 Jaileress had a will of her own, and would brook no incivilities 
 from her lodgers; so sure is it, that falling out one day on the dis¬ 
 puted question of a bottle of Aquavitae on which toll had not been 
 paid, she calls one of the Turnkeys and bids him clap Mother Drum 
 into the Stocks (that stood in the Prison Yard) for an hour or two, 
 for the cooling of her temper. But this had just the contrary 
 effect; for the whilom Hostess of the Stag o’ Tyne, enraged at the 
 Indignity offered to her, did so bemaul and bewray Madame Mac- 
 
102 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 philader with her tongue, shaking her fist at her meanwhile, that 
 the Jaileress in a fury clawed at least two handfuls of M, Drum’s 
 hair from her head, not without getting some smart clapperclawing 
 in the face; whereupon she cries out “ Murther ” and “ Mutiny ” 
 and “ Prisonrupt, ” and sends posthaste for Justice Palmworm, 
 her gossip indeed, and one of those trading magistrates that so dis¬ 
 graced our bench before Mr. Henry Fielding the writer stirred up 
 Authority to put some order therein. The Justice comes; and he 
 and the Jaileress, after cracking a bottle of mulled port between 
 them, poor Mother Drum was brought up before his Worship for 
 mutinous conduct. The Justice would willingly have compounded 
 the case, for Lucre was his only love; but ’twas vengeance the 
 Jaileress hankered after; and the end of it was, poor Mother Drum 
 was triced up at the post that was by the Stocks, and had a dozen 
 and a half from a cat with indeed but three tails, but that, I war¬ 
 rant, hurt pretty nigh as sharply as nine would have done in 
 weaker hands; for ’twas the Jailer that played the Beadle and laid 
 on the Scourge. 
 
 At length, when I was quite tired out, and, knowing nothing of 
 the course of Law, began to think that we were doomed to perpetual 
 imprisonment, His Majesty’s Judges of Assize came upon the cir¬ 
 cuit, and those whom the Fever and Want and the Duresse of their 
 Keeper had spared were put upon their trial. By this time I was 
 thought well enough, though as gaunt as a hound, to be put in the 
 same Jail bird’s trim as my companions; so a pair of Woman’s 
 fetters—ay, my friends, the Women wore fetters in those days— 
 were put upon me; and the whole of us, all shackled as we were, 
 found ourselves, one fine Monday morning, in the Dock, having 
 been driven thereinto very much after the fashion of a flock of 
 sheep. The Court was crowded, for the case against the Blacks 
 had made a prodigious stir; and the King’s Attorney, the most furi¬ 
 ous Person for talking a Fellow-creature’s Life away that ever I re¬ 
 member to have seen or heard, came down especially from London 
 to prosecute us. Neither he nor His Lordship the Judge, in his 
 charge to the Grand Jury, had any but the worst of words to give 
 us; and folks began to say that this would be another Bloody As¬ 
 size; that the Shire Hall had need to be hung with Scarlet, as when 
 Jeffreys was on the bench; and that as short work would be made 
 of us as of the Rebels in the West. And I did not much care, for 
 I was sick of lying in hold, amidst Evil Odors, and with a green 
 wound. Il came even to whispering that of one of us at least would 
 be made a Gibbeting-in-chains matter for killing the Grenadier, if 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 103 
 
 that Act could be fixed on any particular Black. And half in jest, 
 half in earnest, the Woman-keeper told me on the morning of the 
 Assizes that, young as I was (not yet twelve years of age), my bones 
 might rattle in a birdcage in the midst of Cliarlwood Chase; for if I 
 could brain one Grenadier, I could kill another. But yet, being so 
 weary of the Life, I did not much Care. 
 
 It was still somewhat of a Relief to me to come into the Dock, 
 and look upon State and Rich Clothes (in which I have always taken 
 a Gentleman-like pleasure), in the stead of all the dirt and squalor 
 which for so long had been my surrounding. There were the 
 Judges all ranged, a Terrible show, in their brave Scarlet Robes 
 and Fur Tippets, with Great Monstrous Wigs, and the King’s 
 At ms behind them, under a Canopy, done in Carver’s work, gilt. 
 They frowned on us dreadfully when we came trooping into the 
 Dock, bringing all manner of Deadly pestilential Fumes with us 
 from the Jail yonder, and which not all the rue, rosemary, and 
 marjoram strewn on the Dock-ledge, nor the hot vinegar sprinkled 
 about the Court, could mitigate. The middle Judge, who was old, 
 and had a split lip and a fang protruding from it, shook his head at 
 me, and put on such an Awful face, that for a moment my scared 
 thoughts went back to the Clergyman at St. George’s, Hanover 
 Square, that was wont to be so angry with me in his Sermons. Ah, 
 how different was the lamentable Hole in which I now found my¬ 
 self, cheek by jowl with Felons and Caravats, to the great red-baize 
 Pew in which I had sat so often a Little Gentleman! He to the 
 right of the middle Judge was a very sleepy gentleman, and scarcely 
 ever woke up during the proceedings, save once toward one of the 
 clock, when he turned to his Lordship (whom I had at once set 
 down as Mr. Justice Blackcap, and was in truth that Dread Func¬ 
 tionary), saying, “ Brother, is it dinner-time?” But his Lordship 
 to the left, who had an old white face like a sheep, and his wig all 
 awry, was of a more placable demeanor, and looked at me, poor 
 luckless Outcast, with some interest. 1 saw him turn his head and 
 whisper to the gentleman they told me was the High Sheriff, and 
 who sat on the Bench alongside the Judges, very fine, in a robe and 
 gold chain, and with a great sheathed sword behind him, resting 
 on a silver goblet. Then the High Sheriff took to reading over the 
 Calendar, and shrugged his shoulders, whereupon I indulged in 
 some Hope. Then he leans over to Mr. Clerk of the Arraigns, 
 pointing me out, and seemingly asking him some question about me; 
 but that gentleman hands him a couple of parchments, and my quick 
 Ear (for the Court was but small) caught the words, “ There are 
 
104 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 two Indictments against him, Sir John.” Whereupon they looked 
 at me no more, save with a Stern and Sorrowful Gravity; and the 
 Hope I had nourished for a moment departed from me. Yet then, 
 as afterward, and as now, I found (although then too babyish to 
 reason about it), that, bad as we say the World is, it is difficult to 
 come upon Three Men together in it but that one is Good and 
 Merciful 
 
 I feel that my disclaimer notwithstanding the Bark of my Narra¬ 
 tive is running down the stream of a Garrulous talkativeness; but I 
 shall be more brief anon. And what would you have? If there be 
 any circumstances which would entitle a man to give chapter and 
 verse, they must surely be those under which he was Tried for his 
 Life. 
 
 The first day we only held up our hands, and heard the Indict¬ 
 ment against us read. Some of us who were Moneyed had retained 
 Counselors from London to cross-question the witnesses; foi to 
 speak to the Jury in aid of Prisoners, who could not often speak for 
 themselves, the Gentlemen of the Law were not then permitted. 
 And this I have ever held to be a crying Injustice. There was no 
 one, however, not so much as a Pettifogger, to lift tongue, or pen, 
 or finger, to save little Jack Dangerous from the Rope. My Pro¬ 
 tector, Captain Night, was at large; Jowler, my first friend among 
 the Blacks, was dead; and, as Misery is apt to make men Selfish, 
 the rest of my companions had entirely forgotten how friendless 
 and deserted I was. But, just as we were going back to Jail, up 
 c Dmes to the spikes of the Dock a Gentleman with a red face, and a 
 vast bushy powdered wig, like a cauliflower in curls. He wore a 
 silk cassock and sash, and was the Ordinary; but he had forgotten, 
 I think, to come into the Prison and read prayers to us. He kept 
 those ministrations against such time as the Cart was ready, and 
 the Tree decked with its hempen garland. This gentleman beckons 
 me, and asks if I have any Counselor. I told him, No; and that I 
 had no Friends ayont Mother Drum, and she was laid up, sick of a 
 pair of sore shoulders. He goes back to the Bench and confers 
 with the Gentlemen, and by and by the Clerk of the Arraigns calls 
 out that, through the Humanity of the Sheriff, the prisoner John 
 Dangerous was to have Counsel Assigned to him. But it would 
 have been more Humane, I think, to have let the Court and the 
 World know that I was a poor neglected Castaway, knowing 
 scarcely my right Hand from my left, and that all I had done had 
 been in that Blindfoldedness of Ignorance which can scarcely, I 
 trust, be called Sin. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 305 
 
 Back, however, we went to Jail, and a great Rout there was made 
 that night by Mrs. Macphilader for the payment of all arrears of 
 Fees and Garnish to her; for, you see, being a prudent Woman, she 
 feared lest some of the prisoners should be Acquitted, or Dis¬ 
 charged on Proclamation. And our Gang of Blacks, for whose aid 
 their friends in ambush—and they had friends in all kinds of holes 
 and corners, as I afterward discovered to my surprise—had most 
 bountifully come forward, did not trouble themselves much about 
 the peril they were in, but bestowed themselves of making a Roar¬ 
 ing Fight. And hindered by none in Authority—for the Jailers 
 and Turnkeys in those days were not above drinking, and smok¬ 
 ing, and singing, and dicing with their charges—they did keep it 
 up so merrily and so roaringly, that the best part of the night was 
 spent before drowsiness came over Aylesbury Jail. 
 
 Then the next day to Court, and there the Judges as before, and 
 Sir John the High Sheriff, and the Counsel for the Crown and for 
 us, and twelve honest gentlemen in a box by themselves, that were 
 of the Petty Jury, to try us; and, I am.ashamed to say, a great 
 store of Ladies, all in ribbons and patches and laces and fine clothes, 
 that sate some on the Bench beside the Judges, and others in the 
 body of the Court among the Counsel, and stared at us miserable 
 objects in the Dock as though we had been a Galantee Show. It 
 is some years now since I have entered a Court of Criminal Justice, 
 and I do hope that this Indecent and Uncivil Behavior of well-bred 
 Women coming to gaze on Criminals for their diversion has utterly 
 given way before the Benevolence and good taste of a polite Age. 
 
 When, at the last, I was told to plead, and at the bidding of an 
 Officer of the Court, who slood underneath me, had pleaded Not 
 Guilty, and had been asked how I would be tried, and had an¬ 
 swered, likewise at his bidding, “ By God and my Country,” and 
 when after that the Clerk of the Arraigns had prayed Heaven— 
 and I am sure I needed it, and thanked him heartily at the time, 
 kind Gentleman, thinking that he meant it, and not knowing that 
 it was a mere Legal Form—to send me a good Deliverance—the 
 Judge bids me, to my great surprise, to Stand By. I thought at 
 first that they were going to have Mercy on me, and would have 
 dowh on my knees in gratitude to them. But it was not so; and 
 the sleepy old Judge, suddenly waking up, told me that there were 
 two Indictments against me, and that I should have the honor of 
 being tried separately. Goodness save us! I was looked upon as 
 one of the most desperate of the Gang, and was to be tried, not only 
 under the Black Act, but that, not having the fear of God before 
 
106 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 my eyes, but being moved by the instigation of the Devil, I had, 
 against the Peace of our Sovereign Lord the King, attempted felon¬ 
 iously to kill, slay, and murder one John Foss, a Corporal in His 
 Majesty’s Regiment of Grenadier Footguards, by striking him, the 
 said John Foss, over the back, breast, hips, loins, shoulders, thighs, 
 legs, feet, arms, and fingers, with a certain deadly weapon, to wit, 
 with a demijohn of Brandy. 
 
 I was put back and kept all day in the prison. At evening came 
 in my comrades, and from them I learned that the case had gone 
 dead against them from the beginning, that the Jury had found 
 them guilty under the Statute without leaving the box; and that, as 
 the felony was one without the benefit of Clergy, Judge Blackcap 
 had put on a wig as black as his name, and sentenced every man 
 Jack of them to be hanged on the Monday week next following. 
 
 So them it came to my turn to be tried. The ordeal on the first 
 Indictment was very short; for, at the Judge’s bidding, the Jury 
 acquitted me of tr} r ing to murder Corporal Foss before T had been 
 ten minutes in the dock: I did not understand the proceedings in 
 the least at that time; but I was told afterward that the clever legal 
 gentlemen who had drawn up the Indictment against me, while 
 very particularly setting down the parts of the body on which I 
 might have struck Corporal Foss, omitted to specify the one place, 
 namely, his head, on which I did not hit him. Counsel for the 
 Crown endeavored, indeed, to prove that a splinter from the broken 
 demijohn had grazed the Corporal’s finger, but the evidence for this 
 fell dead. And, again, it coming out that I was arraigned as John 
 Danger, whereas I had given the name of John Dangerous, to 
 which I had perhaps no more right than to that of the Pope of 
 Rome, the Judge roundly tells the Jury that the Indictment is bad 
 in law, and I was forthwith acquitted as aforesaid. 
 
 But I was not scot-free. There was that other Indictment under 
 the Black Act; and in that, alas, there was no flaw. The Solemn 
 Court freed itself, to be sure, of the Mockery of finding a child 
 under twelve years Guilty of the attempted murder of a Grenadier 
 six feet high; but no less did the witnesses swear, and the Judge 
 sum up, and Counsel for the Crown insist, and my Counsel feebly 
 deny, and the Jury at last fatally find against me, that I had gone 
 about armed and Disguised by night, and wandered up and down 
 in the King's Forests, and stolen his Deer, and Goodness can tell 
 what besides; and so, being found guilty, the middle Judge puts 
 on his black cap again, and tells me that I am to be hanged on 
 Monday week by the neck. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 107 
 
 He did not say anything about my youth, or about my utter lone¬ 
 liness, or about the evil examples which had brought me to this 
 Pass. Perhaps it was not his Duty, but that of the Ordinary, to 
 tell me so. The Hanging was his department, the praying be¬ 
 longed to his Reverence. They led me back to prison, feeling 
 rather hot and sick after the words I had listened to about being 
 “ hanged by the neck until I was dead,” but still not caring much; 
 for I could not rightly understand why all these fine gentlemen 
 should be at the pains of Butchering me merely because 1 had run 
 away from school (being so cruelly entreated by Gnawbit), and to 
 save myself from starvation, had joined the Blacks. 
 
 Being to Die, it seemed for the first time to occur to them that I 
 was not as the rest of the poor souls that were doomed to death, 
 and that it behooved them to treat me rather as a lamb that is 
 doomed for the slaughter than as a great overgrown Bullock to be 
 knocked down by the Butcher’s Pole-ax. So they put me away 
 from the rest of my companions, and bestowed me in a sorry little 
 chamber, where I had a truckle-bed to myself. Dear old Mother 
 Drum, being still under disgrace, was not suffered to come near 
 me. Her trial, with that of Cicely Grip, for harboring armed and 
 disguised men, under the Black Act, which was likewise a felony, 
 was not to come on till the next session. I believe that the Great 
 Gentlemen at ^Whitehall were, for a long time after my conviction, 
 in a mind for Hanging me. ’Twas thought a small matter then to 
 stretch the neck of a Boy of Twelve, and children even smaller than 
 I had worn the white Nightcap, and smelt the Nosegay in the Cart. 
 Indeed, I think the Ordinary wanted me to be Finished according 
 to Law, that he might preach a Sermon on it, and liken me to one 
 of the Children that mocked the Prophet, and so was eaten up by 
 the She-Bears that came out of a Wood. When I think on the 
 Reverend and Pious Persons who now attend our Criminals in their 
 last unhappy Moments, and strive to bring them to a Sense of their 
 Sins, it gives me the Goose-flesh to remember the Profane and Riot¬ 
 ous Parsons who, for a Mean Stipend, did the contemned work of 
 Jail Chaplains in the days I speak of. Even while the Hangman 
 was getting into proper Trim, and fashioning his tools for the 
 slaughter, these callous Clergymen would be smoking and drinking 
 with the keepers in the Lodge, talking now T of a Main at Cocks and 
 now of him who was to suffer on the Morrow, fleering and jesting, 
 with the Church Service in one sleeve of their cassock and a Bottle 
 Screw or a Pack of Cards in the other. And the Condemned per¬ 
 sons, too, did not take the matter in a much more serious light. 
 
108 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 They had their Brandy and Tobacco even in their Dismal Hold, 
 and thought much less of Mercj" and Forgiveness than of the ease 
 they would have from their Irons being stricken off, or the comfort 
 they would gain from a last bellyful of Meat. I have not come to 
 be sixty-eight years of age without observing somewhat of the 
 Things that have passed around me; and one of the best signs of 
 the Times in which I live (and due in great part to the Humane and 
 Benignant complexion of his Majesty) is the falling off in blood¬ 
 thirsty and cruel Punishments. If a Dozen or so are hanged after 
 each Jail Delivery at the Old Bailey, and a score or more whipped 
 or burned in the Hand, what are such workings of justice com¬ 
 pared with the Waste of Life that was used to be practiced under 
 the two last monarchs? At home 'twas all pressing to death those 
 who would not plead, hanging, drawing, and quartering (how often 
 have I sickened to see the pitch-seethed members of my Fellow- 
 creatures on the spikes of Temple Bar and Lndon Bridge!), taking 
 out the entrails of those convict of Treason (as witness Colonel 
 Towneley, Mr. Dawson, and many more unfortunate gentlemen on 
 Kennington Common), to say nothing of the burning alive of 
 women for petty treason—and to kill a husband or coin a groat were 
 alike Treasonable—the Scourging of the same wretched creatures in 
 Public till the blood ran from their shoulders and soaked the knots of 
 the Beadle's lash; the cartings, brandings, and dolorous Imprison¬ 
 ments which were then inflicted for the slightest of offenses. Why, 
 I have seen a man stand in the Pillory in the Seven Dials (to be 
 certain, he was a secure scoundrel), and the Mob, not satisfied, must 
 take him out, strip him to the buff, stone him, cast him down, root 
 up the pillory, and trample him under foot, till, being rescued by 
 the constables, he has been taken back to Newgate, and has died in 
 the Hackney Coach conveying him thither. 
 
 Oh, ’tis woe to think of the Horrors that were then done in the 
 name of the Law and Justice, not only in this country but in 
 Foreign Parts—with tlieir Breakings on the Wheel, Questions Or¬ 
 dinary and Extraordinary, Bastinadoes, Carcans, Wooden horses, 
 Burnirg alive too (for vending of Irreligious Books), and the like 
 Barbarities. Let me tell you likewise, that, for all the evil name 
 gotten by the Spanish and Portuguese Inquisitions—for which I en¬ 
 tertain, as a Protestant, due Detestation and Abhorrence—the dark¬ 
 est deeds ever done by the so called Holy Office in their Torture 
 Chambers were not half so cruel as those performed with the full 
 cognizance and approbation of authority, in open places, and in 
 pursuance of the sentence of the Civil Judges. But a term has 
 
CAPTAIH DANGEROUS. 
 
 109 
 
 come to these wickednesses. The admirable Mr. Howard before 
 named (whom I have often met in my travels, as he, good man, with 
 nothing but a Biscuit and a few Raisins in his pocket, went up and 
 down Europe Doing Good, smiling at Fever and tapping Pestilence 
 on the cheek)—this Blessed Worthy has lightened the captive’s fet 
 ters, and cleansed his dungeon, and given him Light and Air. Then 
 I hear at the Coffee House that the great Judge, Sir William Black- 
 stone, has given his caveat against the Frequency of Capital Punish¬ 
 ment for small offenses; and as His Majesty is notoriously averse 
 from signing more than six Death Warrants at once (the old King 
 used to say at council in his German-English, “ Vere is de Dyin’ 
 speech man dat hang de Rogue forme?” meaning the Recorder 
 with his Report, and seeming, in a sort, eager to dispatch that aw¬ 
 ful Business, of which the present Prince is so Tender), I think 
 that we have every cause to Bless the Times and Reign we live in. 
 For surely ’tis but affected Softness of Heart, and Mock, Sickly 
 Sentiment, to maintain that Highwaymen, Horse-stealers, and other 
 hardened villains, do not deserve the Tree, and do not righteously 
 Suffer for their misdeeds; or that wanton women do not deserve 
 bodily correction, so long as it be done within Bridewell Walls, and 
 not in front of the Sessions House, for the ribald Populace to stare 
 at. Truly our present code is a merciful one, although I do not 
 hold that the Extreme Penalty of the law should be exacted for 
 such offenses as cutting down growing trees, forging hat-stamps, or 
 stealing above the value of a Shilling; nevertheless crime must be 
 kert under, that is certain.* 
 
 At all events, they didn’t hang John Dangerous. For a time, as 
 I have said, the Great Gentlemen at Whitehall hesitated. I have 
 heard that Justice Blackcap, being asked to intercede for me, did* 
 with a scurril jest, tell Mr. Secretary that I was a young Imp of 
 the Evil One, and that a little Hanging would do me no harm. 
 Five, indeed, of my miserable companions were put to death, at 
 different points on the borders of Charlwood Chase, and one, the 
 unlucky Chaplain, met his fate before the door of the Stag o’ 
 Tyne. The rest of the Blacks, of whom, to my joy, I shall have no 
 further occasion to speak, were sent to be Slaves in the American 
 Plantations. 
 
 * Captain Dangerous, it will be seen, was, in regard to our criminal code, 
 somewhat in advance of the ideas of his age; but he was scarcely on a level 
 with those of our own, and, I think, would have perused with some surprise the 
 speeches of Mr. Ewart and the “ Vacation Thoughts on Capital Punishments ” 
 of the late Mr. Commissioner Phillips.—G. A. S. 
 
110 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 I had lain in the Jail more than a month after my Sentence, when 
 Mr. Shapcott, a good Quaker Gentleman of the place (who had 
 suffered much for Conscience’ sake, and was very Pitifully inclined 
 to all those who were in Affliction), began to take some interest in 
 my unhappy Self; calling me a si rayed Lamb, a brand to be 
 snatched from the burning, and the like. And he, by the humane 
 connivance of the Mayor and other Justices, was now permitted to 
 have access unto me, and to conciliate the Keeper, Mrs. Macphila- 
 der, by money-presents, to treat me with some kindness. Also he 
 brought me many Good Books, in thin paper covers; the which, 
 although I could understand but very little of their Saving Truths, 
 yet caused me to shed many Tears, more Sweet than Bitter, and to 
 acknowledge, when taxed with it in a Soothing way, that my 
 former Manner of Life had been most Wicked. But I should do 
 this good man foul injustice, were I to let it stand that his benevo¬ 
 lence to me was confined to books. He and (ever remembered) 
 Mistress Shapcott, his Meek and Pious Partner, and his daughter, 
 Wingrace Shapcott (a tall and straight young woman, as Beautiful 
 as an Angel), were continually bringing me Comforts and Need¬ 
 ments, both in Raiment and Food. It churns my Old Heart now 
 to think of that Beautiful Girl, sitting beside me in my dank Prison 
 Room, the tears streaming from her mild eyes, calling me by En¬ 
 dearing names, and ever and anon taking my hand in hers, and 
 sinking on her knees to the sodden floor (with no thought of soiling 
 her kirtle), while with profound Fervor she prayed for the conver¬ 
 sion of errant Me. Sure there are Hearts of Gold among those 
 Broadbrims and their fair straitlaced Daughters. Many a Mer¬ 
 chant’s Money-bags I have spared for the sake of Mr. Barzillai 
 Shapcott (late of Aylesbury). Many a Fair Woman have I inter¬ 
 mitted from my Furious Will in remembrance of the good that was 
 shown me, in the old time, by that pale, straight-gowned Wingrace 
 yonder, with her meek Face and welling Eyes. Of my deep and 
 grievous Sins they told me enow, but they forbore to Terrify me 
 with Frightful Images of Unforgiving Wrath; speaking to me of 
 Forgiveness alway, rather than of Torment. And once, when I 
 had gotten, through favor of the Keeper, Mr. Drelincourt his book 
 on Death (and had half-frightened myself into fits by reading the 
 Apparition of Mrs. Veal), these good people must needs take it 
 from me, telling me that such strong meat was not fit for Babes, 
 and gave me in its place a pretty little chap-book, called “ Joy for 
 Friendly Friends.” But that I am old and battered, and black as a 
 Guinea Negro with sins, I would go join the Quakers now. Never 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 mind their broad-brims, and theeing and thouing. I tell you, man, 
 that they have hearts as soft as toast-and butter, and that they do 
 more good in a day than my Lord Bishop (with his coach-horses, 
 forsooth!) does in a year. And oh, the pleasure of devalizing one 
 of these Proud Prelates, as I—that is, some of my Friends—have 
 done scores of times! 
 
 Nothing would suit the good Shapcotts but that I should write 
 in mine own hand a Petition to the King’s Majesty. The Magis¬ 
 trates, who now began to take some interest in me, were for having 
 it drawn up by their Town Clerk, and me only to put my Mark to 
 it; for they would not give a poor little Hangdog of a Black any 
 credit of Clergy. But being told that I could both read and write, 
 after a Fashion, it was agreed that I was to have myself the scriven- 
 ing of the Document; they giving me some Forms and Hints for 
 beginning and ending, and bidding me con my Bible, and choose 
 such texts as I thought bore on my Unhappy Condition. And 
 after Great Endeavors and many painful days, and calling all my 
 little Scholarship under my Grandmother, the kind old school-mis¬ 
 tress of Foubert’s Passage, Gnawbit (burn .him!), and Captain 
 Night, I succeeded in producing the following. I give it word for 
 ■word as I wrote it, having kept a copy; but I need not say that, 
 as a Gentleman of Fortune, my Style and Spelling are not now so 
 Barbarous and Uncouth. 
 
 This was my Petition to His Majesty: 
 
 “ The Humble Pettyshon of Jon Dangerous now a prisinner under 
 centense off Deth in His Maggestys Gayle at Alesbury to His 
 Maggesty Gorge by the grease of God King of Grate Briton Frans 
 and Eyearland Defender off the Fathe Showeth That yore 
 Petetioner which I am Unfortunate enuff to be mixed up in this 
 business Me and the others wich have suffered was Cast by the 
 Jewry and Justis Blackcapp he ses that as a Warming and Eggs- 
 ample i am to be Hanged by the Nek till you are Ded and the 
 Lord have Mercy upon his Soul Great Sur your Maggesty the 
 Book ses that wen the wicked man turneth away from his 
 Wickedness wich he have committed and doetli that wich is Law¬ 
 ful and Rite he shall save his Sole alive Therefore deer Great 
 Sur wich a reprieve would fall like Thunder upon a Contrite 
 Hart and am most sorrowful under the Black Act wich it is true 
 I took the deere but was led to it Deere Sur wich Mungo and 
 others was repreeved at the Tree and sent to the Plantations but 
 am not twelve yeeres old And have always been a Prottestant 
 Great Sur i shall be happy to serve his Maggesty by see or land 
 and if the Grannydeere he had not Vexed me but had no other 
 way being in a Korner and all Fiting and so i up with the dem- 
 
112 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 myjon which i hoap he is better And your Petishioner will ever 
 pray your Maggesty’s loving Subject and Servant 
 
 Jon Dangerous 
 
 My Granmother was a Lady of Quality and lived in her own House 
 'in Hannover Squair and was used after her Deth very cruelly by 
 one Mistress Tallmash and Kadwallader which was the Stoard 
 and was sent in a Waggin like a Beggar Deere Sur Mr Gnaw- 
 bit he used me shameful wicli I was Blak and Blue and the Old 
 Gentleman he ses you Run away ses he into Charwood chaise and 
 join the Blacks Deere Sur this is All which Captain Nite would 
 swear but as eloped I am now lying here many weekes Deere 
 Sur I sliood like to be hanged in Wite for I am Innocent least- 
 ways of meaning to kill the Grannydere ’ ’ 
 
 This was a Curious kind ot School-boy letter. Different I take 
 it from those one gets from a Brother, asking for a Crown, a Pony, 
 or a Plumcake. But my Schools had been of the hardest, and 
 this was my Holiday letter. 
 
 When the Mayor read it, he burst out a-laughing, and says that 
 no such Thieves’ Flash must be sent to the Foot of the Throne. 
 But Mr. Shapcott told him that he would not have one word altered; 
 that he would not even strike out the paragraph where I had been 
 irreverent enough to quote a Text (and spell it badly); and that 
 what I had written, and naught else, should go to the King. He 
 took it to London himself, and His Majesty being much elated by 
 some successes in Germany, and the Discovery of a Jacobite Plot, 
 and moved moreover by the intercession of a Foreign Lady, that 
 was his Favorite, and who vowed that the little Deer-Stealer’s Peti¬ 
 tion was Monstrous Droll, and almost as good as a Play—His 
 Majesty was graciously pleased to remit my sentence, on condition 
 of my transporting myself for life to His Majesty’s Plantations in 
 North America. 
 
 As to my transporting ‘ ‘ myself, ’ ’ that w T as a Fiction. I was 
 henceforth as much a slave to my own Countrymen as I was in after 
 days to the Moors. The Sliapcotts would willingly have provided 
 me with the means of going to the ultermost ends of the World, 
 but that was not the way the thing was to be done. Flesh and Blood 
 were bought and sold in those days, and it did not much matter 
 about the color. By that strange Laxity which then tempered the 
 severity of the Laws, I was permitted, for many days after my Fate 
 was settled, to remain in a kind of semi-Enlargement. I suppose 
 that Mr. Shapcott gave bail for me; but I was taken into his Family, 
 and treated with the most Loving Kindness, till the. fearful intelli¬ 
 gence came that I, with two hundred other Convicts, had been 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 113 
 
 “Taken up” for Transportation by Sir Basil Hop wood, a rich 
 Merchant and Alderman of London, who paid a certain Sum a head 
 for us to the King’s Government for taking us to America, where 
 he might make what profit he pleased, by selling our wretched 
 Carcasses to be Slaves to the Planters. 
 
 Oh, the terrible Parting! but there was no other Way, and it had 
 to be Endured. My kind friends made me up a packet of Neces¬ 
 saries for the Voyage, and with a Heavy Heart I bade them fare- 
 well. These good people are all Dead: but their woman-servant, 
 Ruth, a pure soul, of great Serenity of Countenance, still lives; and 
 every Christmas does the Carrier convey for me to Aylesbury a 
 Hamper full of the Good Things of this Life, and Ten Golden 
 Guineas. And I know that this Good and Faithful Servant (who 
 has been well provided for) just touches the Kissing-crust of one of 
 the Pies my Lilias has made for her, and that she goes straight with 
 the rest, Money and Cakes, to the Jail, and therewith relieves the 
 Debtors (whom Heaven deliver out of their Captivity!) And it is 
 more seemly that she rather than I should do this thing, seeing that 
 there are those Who will not * believe that after a Hard Life a man 
 can keep a fleshy heart, and who would be apt to dub me Hypocrite 
 if these Doles came from me directly. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TENTH. 
 
 ON SUNDRY MY ADVENTURES FROM THE TIME OF MY GOING 
 ABROAD UNTIL MY COMING TO MAN’S ESTATE (WHICH WAS ALL 
 THE ESTATE I HAD). 
 
 A strange Nursing-mother—rather a Step-molher of the Stoniest 
 sort—was this Sir Basil Hopwood, Knight and Alderman of London, . 
 that contracted with the Government to take us Transports abroad. 
 Sure there never was a man, on this side of the land of Horse¬ 
 leeches, that was so Hungry after money. Yet was his avarice not 
 of the kind practiced by old Audley, the money-scrivener of the 
 Commonwealth’s time; or Hopkins, the wretch that saved candles’ 
 ends and yet had a thousand wax-lights blazing at his Funeral; or, 
 Guy the Bookseller, that founded the Hospital in Southwark; or 
 even old John Elwes, Esquire, the admired Miser of these latter 
 days. Sir Basil Hopwood was the rather of the same complexion 
 of Entrails with that Signor Volpone whom we have also seen—at 
 least such of us as be old Boys—in Ben Jonson’s play of the ‘ ‘ Fox, ’ ’ 
 
114 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 He mone 3 r -grubbed, and Money-clutclied, and Money-wrung, ay, in 
 a, manner Money-stole, that he might live largely, and ruffle it among 
 his brother Cits in surpassing state and splendor. He had been 
 Lord Mayor; and on his Show-day the Equipments of chivalry had 
 been more Sumptuous, the Banners more varied, the Entertainment 
 at Saddlers’ Hall—where the Lord Mayor was wont to hold liis 
 Feast before the present Mansion House was built, the ancient 
 Guildhall in lying Street being then but in an ill condition for 
 banquet—Hopwood’s Entertainment, I say, had been more plenti¬ 
 fully provided with marrow bones,Custards, Ruffs and Reeves,Baked 
 Cygnets, Malmsey, Canary, and Hippocras, than had ever been 
 known since the days of Sir Robert Clayton, the Merry Mayor, who 
 swore that King Charles the Second should take t’other bottle. 
 He was a Parliament man, too, and had a borough in his Pocket— 
 more’s the shame—besides one to serve him as a cushion to sit on. 
 
 This enormously rich man had a fine House in Bishopsgate 
 Street, with as many rogues in blue liveries as a Rotterdam Syndic 
 that has made three good ventures in Java. When we poor 
 wretches, chained together, had been brought up in Carts from 
 Aylesbury to London, on our way to be Embarked, nothing would 
 serve this Haughty and Purse-proud Citizen but that our ragged 
 Regiment must halt before his peddling Palace; and there the var- 
 lets in blue that attended upon him brought us out Loaves and 
 Cheese, and Blackjacks full of two-thread Beer, which, with many 
 disdainful gestures and uncivil words, they offered to our famished 
 lips. And my Lady Hopwood, and the fine Madams her daughters 
 —all laced and furbelowed, and with widows’ and orphans’ tears, 
 and the blood-drops of crimped seamen and kidnapped children, 
 twinkling in their Stomachers for gems—were all set at their Bowery 
 window, a pudding-fed chaplain standing bowing and smirking 
 behind them, and glozing in their ears no doubt Praises of their 
 exceeding Charity and Humanity to wretches such as we were. 
 But this Charity, Jack, says I to myself, is not of the Shapcott 
 sort, and is but cast metal after all. My troth, but we wanted the 
 Bread and Cheese and Swipes: for we had had neither Bite nor Sup 
 since we left Aylesbury Jail seven-and-twenty hours agone. So, 
 after a while, and the mob hallooing at us for Gallows-birds, and 
 some Ruffians about the South-Sea House pelting us with stones— 
 for Luck, as they said—we were had over London Bridge—where 
 with dreadful admiration I viewed the Heads and Quarters of 
 Traitors, all shimmering in the coat of pitch i’ the Sun, over the 
 North Turret—and were bestowed for the night in the Borough 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 115 
 
 Clink. And hither we were pursued by the Alderman’s Agents, 
 who straightway began to drive Unholy Bargains with those among 
 us that had Money. Now ’twas selling them Necessaries for the 
 voyage at exorbitant rates; or promising them, for cash in hand, to 
 deliver them Luxuries, such as Tobacco, playing-cards, and strong 
 waters, at the Port of Embarkation. Now twas substituting Light 
 for Heathy Fetters, if the Heaviness could be Assuaged by Gold; 
 and sometimes even negotiations were carried so far as for the con¬ 
 victed persons to give Drafts of Exchange, to be honored by their 
 Agents in London, so soon as word came from the Plantations that 
 they had been placed in Tolerable Servitude, instead of Agonizing 
 Slavery. For although there was then, as there is now, a con¬ 
 venient Fiction that a Felon’s goods became at once forfeit to the 
 Crown, I never yet knew a Felon (and I have known many) that 
 felt ever so little difficulty in keeping his property, if he had any, 
 and disposing of it according to his own Good Will and Pleasure. 
 
 The Head Jailer of the Borough Clink—I know not how his 
 Proper official title ran—was a colonel in the Foot Guards, who 
 lived in Jermyn Street, St. James’s, and transacted most of his High 
 and Mighty business either at Poingdestre’s Ordinary in St. Alban’s 
 Palace, or at White’s Chocolate House, to say naught of the Row, 
 or the Key in Chandos Street. Much, truly, did he concern him¬ 
 self about his unhappy Captives. His place was a Patent one, and 
 was worth to him about Fifteen Hundred a year, at which sum it 
 was farmed by Sir Basil Hop wood; who, in his turn, on the prin¬ 
 ciple that “ ’tis scurvy money that won’t stick to your fingers,” un¬ 
 derlet the place to a company of Four Rogues, who gave him Two 
 Thousand for it, which they managed to swell into at least Three 
 for themselves by squeezing of Poor Prisoners, and the like crying 
 Injustices. ’Twas Aylesbury Jail over again, with the newest im¬ 
 provements and the Humors of the Town added to it. So, when 
 Sir Basil Hop wood look up a cargo of cast persons for Transporta¬ 
 tion, his underlings of the Borough Clink were only too glad to 
 harbor them for a night or two, making a pretty profit out of the 
 poor creatures. For all which, I doubt it not, Sir Basil Hopwood 
 and his scoundrelly Myrmidons are, at this instant moment. IIowl- 
 • mg. 
 
 This place was a prison for Debtors as well as Criminals, and 
 was to the full as Foul as the Tophet-pit at Aylesbury yonder. I 
 had not been there half an hour before a Lively companion of a 
 Gentleman Cutpurse, with a wrench at my kerchief, a twist at my 
 arm (which nearly Broke it in twain), and a smart Blow under my 
 
116 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Lower Jaw, robs me of the packet of comforts (clothing, pressed 
 beef, sugar, comfits, and the like) which my kind friends at Ayles¬ 
 bury had given me. The Rascal comes to me a few minutes after¬ 
 ward with a packet of Soap and a Testament, which he had taken 
 from my Bundle, and returns them to me with a Grin, telling me 
 that it was long since his Body had felt need of the one or his Soul 
 of the other. And yet I think they would have profited consider¬ 
 ably (pending a Right Cord) by the application of Both. So I in a 
 corner, to moan and whimper at my Distressed condition. 
 
 A sad Sunday I spent in the Clink—’twas on the Monday we 
 were to start—although, to some other of my companions, the Time 
 passed jovially enough. For very many of the Relations and 
 Friends of the Detained Persons came to visit them, bringing them 
 money, victuals, clothing, and other Refreshments. ’Twas on this 
 day I heard that one of us, who was cast for Forgery, had been 
 offered a Free Pardon if he could lodge Five Hundred Pounds in 
 the hands of a Person who had Great Influence near a Great Man. 
 
 Late on the Sunda}' afternoon Sir Basil Hopwood came down in 
 his coach, and with his chaplain attendant on him. We Convicts 
 were all had to the Grate, for the Ivnighl and Alderman would not 
 venture further in, for fear of the Jail Fever; and he makes us a 
 Fine Speech about the King’s Mercy—which I deny not— and his 
 own Infinite Goodness in providing for us in a Foreign Land. The 
 which I question. Then he told us how we were to be very civil 
 and obedient on the voyage to those who were set over us, refrain¬ 
 ing from cursing, sweaiing, gaming, or singing of profane songs, 
 on pain of immediate and smart chastisement; and having said this, 
 and the chaplain having given us his Benediction, he gat him gone, 
 and we were rid of so much Rapacious and Luxurious Hypocrisy. 
 We lay in the yard that night, wrapped in such extra Garments as 
 some of us were Fortunate enough to have; and I sobbed myself to 
 sleep, wishing, I well remember, that it might never be Day again, 
 but that my Sorrows might all be closed in by the Merciful Curtain 
 of Eternal Night. 
 
 So on the Monday morning we were driven down—a body of Sir 
 Basil Hopwood’s own company of the Trainbands guarding us—to 
 Shayler’s Stairs, near unto the church of St. Mary Overy; and 
 there—we were in number about a hundred—put on board a Hoy, 
 which straightway, the tide being toward, bore down the river for 
 Gravesend. 
 
 By this time I found that, almost insensibly, as it were, I had 
 become separated from my old companions, the Blacks, and that I 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 117 
 
 was more than ever Alone. The greatest likelihood is, that Au¬ 
 thority deemed it advisable to break up, for good and all, the For¬ 
 midable Confederacy they had laid hold of, and to prevent those 
 Dangerous Men from ever again making Head together. But my 
 whole Life was but a kind of Shifting and uncertain Vision, and I 
 took little note of the personages with whom I came in contact, till 
 looking around me, in a dull Jistlessness about the Hoy, I found 
 myself cheek by jowl with a motley crew, seemingly picked up 
 haphazard from all the jails in England. But ’twas all one to me, 
 and I did not much care. Such a Stupor of Misery came over me, 
 that for a time I almost forgot my good Quaker Friends, and the 
 lessons they had taught me; that I felt myself once more drifting 
 into being a Dangerous little brute; and that seeing the Master of 
 the Hoy, a thirsty-looking man, lifting a great stone-bottle to his 
 lips, I longed to serve him as I had served Corporal Foss with the 
 demijohn of Brandy in the upper chamber of the Stag o’ Tyne. 
 
 We landed not at Gravesend, but were forthwith removed to a 
 bark called “ The Humane Hop wood,” in compliment, I suppose, to 
 Sir Basil, and which, after lying three days in the Downs, put into 
 Deal to complete her complement of Unfortunate Persons. And I 
 remember that, before making Deal, we saw a stranded Brig on the 
 Goodwins, which was said to be a Legliorner, very rich with oil 
 and silks; round which were gathered just as you may see obscene 
 Birds of Prey gathered round a dead carcass, and picking the Flesh 
 from its bones—at least a score of luggers belonging to the Deal 
 Boatmen. These worthies had knocked holes in the hull of the 
 wreck, and were busily hauling out packages and casks into their 
 craft, coming to blows sometimes with axes and marlin-spikes as to 
 who should have the Biggest Booty. And it was said on Board 
 that they would not unfrequently decoy by false signals, or posi¬ 
 tively haul, a vessel in distress on to those same Goodwins—in 
 whose fatal depths so many tall Ships lie Ingulfed—in order to 
 have the Plunder of her, which was more profitable than the Sal¬ 
 vage, that being in the long-run mostly swallowed up by the Crimps 
 and Longshore Lawyers of Deal and other Ports, who were wont 
 to buy the Boatmen’s rights at a Ruinous Discount. Salvage Men, 
 indeed, these Boatmen might well be called; for when I was young 
 it was their manner to act with an extreme of Savage Barbarity, 
 thinking far less of saving Human Life than of clutching at the 
 waifs and strays of a Rich Cargo. And then up would sheer a 
 Custom-House cutter or Revenue Pink, the skipper and his crew 
 fierce in their Defense of the Laws of the Land, the Admiralty 
 
118 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Droits, and their own twentieths; and from Hard blows with lists 
 and spikes, matters would often come to the arbitrament of cut¬ 
 lasses and firearms; so that Naval Engagements of a Miniature 
 kind have often raged between the Deal Boatmen and the King’s 
 Officers. Surely the world was a Hard and a Cruel and a Brutal 
 one, when I was young—bating the Poor Laws, which were tenderer 
 than now; for now that I am old the Gazettes are full of the Tender 
 Valor and Merciful Devotion of the Deal Boatmen, who, in the 
 most tempestuous weather, will leave their warm beds, their wives 
 and bairns, and put off, with the Sea running mountains high, to 
 rescue Distraught Vessels and the Precious Lives that are within 
 them. The Salvage Men of my time were brave enough, but they 
 were likewise unconscionable rogues. 
 
 The wind proved false to us at Deal, and we had to wait a weary 
 ten days there. Captain Handsell was our commander. He was a 
 man who knew but one course of proceeding. ’Twas always a 
 word and a blow with him. By the same token the blow generally 
 came first, and the word that followed was sure to be a bad one. 
 The Captain of a Ship, from a Fishing Smack to a Three-Decker, 
 was in those days a cruel and merciless Despot. ’Twas only the 
 size of his ship and the number of his Equipage that decided the 
 question whether he was to be a Petty Tyrant or a Tremendous 
 One. His Empire was as undisputed as that of a School-master. 
 Who was to gainsay him? To whom, at Sea, could his victims 
 appeal? To the Sharks and Grampuses, the Dolphins .and the 
 Bonettas? He was privileged to beat, to fetter, to starve, to kick, 
 to curse his Seamen. Even his Passengers trembled at the sight of 
 this Bashaw of Bluewater; for he had Irons and Rations of Moldy 
 Biscuit for them, too, if they offended him; and many a Beautiful 
 and Haughty Lady, paying full cabin-passage, has bowed down be¬ 
 fore the wrath of a vulgar Skipper, whom, at home, she would have 
 thought unworthy to Black her Shoes, and who would be seething 
 in the revelry of a Tavern in Rotherliithe, while she would be foot¬ 
 ing it in the Saloons of St. James’s. Yet for a little time, at the out¬ 
 set of his voyage, the Skipper had his superior; the Bashaw had a 
 Vizier who was bigger than he. There was a Terrible Man called 
 the Pilot. He cared no more for the Captain than the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury cares for a Charity-Boy. He gave him a piece of his 
 Mind whenever he chose, and he would have his own Way, and 
 had it. It was the delight of the Seamen to see their Tyrant and 
 Bully degraded for a time under the supreme authority of the Pilot, 
 who drank the Skipper’s mm; who had the best Beef and Burgoo 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 119 
 
 at the Skipper’s table; who wore, if he was so minded, the Skip¬ 
 per’s tarpauliu; who used the Skipper’s telescope, and thumbed his 
 charts, and kicked his Cabin-boy, and swore his oaths, till, but for 
 the fear of the Trinity House, I think the Skipper would have been 
 mighty glad to fling him over the taffrail. But the reign of this 
 Great Mogul of Lights and Points and Creeks soon came to an end. 
 A River Pilot was the lesser evil, a Channel Pilot was the greater 
 one; but both were got rid of at last. Then the Skipper was him¬ 
 self again. He would drink himself blind with Punch in the fore¬ 
 noon, or cob his cabin-boy to Death’s door after dinner for a frolic. 
 He could play the very Devil among the Hands, and they perforce 
 bore with his capricious cruelty; for there is no running away from 
 a Ship at Sea. Jack Shark is Jailer, and keeps the door tight * 
 There is but one way out of it, and that is to Mutiny, and hey for 
 the Black Flag and a Pirate’s Free and Jovial Life.* But Mutiny is 
 Hanging, and Piracy is Hanging, and Gibbeting, too; and how 
 seldom it is that you find Bold Hearts who have Stuff enough in 
 them to run the great risk! As on sea, so it is on land. That Ugly 
 Halter dances before a man’s eyes, and dazes him away from the 
 Firmest Resolve. For how long will School-boys endure the hideous 
 Enormities of a Gnawbit before they come to the Supreme Revolt 
 of a Barring-out! And for how long will a People suffer the mad 
 tyranny of a Ruler, who outrages their Laws, who strangles their 
 Liberties, who fleeces and squeezes and tramples upon them, before 
 they take Heart of Grace, and up Pike and Musket, and down- 
 derry-down with your Ruler, who is ordinarily the basest of Pol¬ 
 troons, and runs away in a fright so soon as the first Goose is bold 
 enough to cry out that the Capitol shall be saved! 
 
 Nothing of this did I think aboard “ The Humane Hop wood.” I 
 was too young to have any thought at all, save of rage and anguish 
 when it pleased Captain Handsell, being in a cheerful mood, to 
 belabor me, till I was black and blue, with a rope’s end. At the 
 beginning of the voyage I was put into the hold, ironed, with the 
 rest of the convicts, who were only permitted to come on deck 
 twice a day, morning and evening, for a few Mouthfuls of Fresh 
 air; who were fed on the vilest biscuit and the most putrid water— 
 getting but a scrap of fat pork and a dram of Rum that was like 
 Fire twice a week, and who were treated, generally, much like 
 Negroes on the Middle passage. But by and by—say after ten days; 
 but I took little account of Time in this floating Purgatory—Captain 
 
 * Captain Dangerous! Captain Dangerous I—Ed. 
 
120 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Handsell has me unironed; and his cabin-boy, a poor weakly little 
 lad, that could not stand much beating, being dead of that and a 
 flux, and so thrown overboard without any more words being said 
 about it—(he was but a little Scottish castaway from Edinburgh, 
 who had been kidnapped late one night in the Grass Market, and 
 sold to a Greenock skipper trading in that line for a hundred pound 
 Scots—not above eight pounds of our currency)—and there is no 
 Crowner’s Quest at sea, I was promoted to the Vacant Post. I was 
 Strong enough now, and the Wound in my arm gave me no more 
 pain; and 1 think I grew daily stronger and more hardened under 
 the shower of blows which the Skipper very liberally dealt out to 
 me; I hardly know with more plenitude when he was vexed, or 
 when he was pleased. But I was not the same bleating little Lamb 
 that the wolfish Gnawbit used to torture. No, no; John Dangerous’s 
 apprenticeship had been useful to him. Even as college-lads grad¬ 
 uate in their Latin and Greek, so I had graduated upon braining 
 the Grenadier with the demijohn. I could take kicks and cuffs, 
 but I could likewise give them. And so, as this Roaring Skipper 
 made me a Block to vent his spite upon, I would slruggle with, and 
 bite, and kick his shins till sometimes we managed to fall together 
 on the cabin-floor and tumble about there—pull he, pull I, and a 
 kick together!—till the Watch would look down the sky-light upon 
 us, grinning, and chuckle hoarsely that old Belzey, as they called 
 their commander (being a diminutive for Beelzebub), and his young 
 Imp were having a tussle. Thus it came about that among these 
 unthinking Seamen I grew to be called Pug (who, I have heard, is 
 the Lesser Fiend), or Little Brimstone, or young Pitcli-ladle. And 
 then I, in my Impish way, w^ould offer to fight them, too, resenting 
 their scurril nicknames, and telling them that I had but one name, 
 which was Jack Dangerous. 
 
 The oddest thing in the world was that the Skipper, Ungovern¬ 
 able Brute as he was, seemed to take a kind of liking for me through 
 my Resistance to him. 
 
 “ What a young Tiger-cub it is!” he would say sometimes, sway¬ 
 ing about his Rope’s End, as if undecided whether to hit me or 
 not. “ Lie down, Rawbones! Lie down, Tearem!” 
 
 “You go to hit me again,” I would cry, all hot and flurried; 
 “I’ll mark you, I will, you Tarpaulin Hedgehog!” 
 
 Then in a Rage he would make a Rush at me, and Welt me 
 sorely; but oftener he would Relent, and opening his Locker would 
 give me a slice of Sausage, or a white Biscuit, or a nip of curious 
 Nantz. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 121 
 
 At last lie gave up maltreating me altogether. “ If j r ou'(l been of 
 the same kidney as Sawney M’Gillicuddy,” he said, speaking of 
 the poor little Scottish lad who Died, “ I’d have made j r ou food for 
 fishes long ago. ’Slid, my younker, but they should ’a had their 
 meat tender enough, or there’s no vartue in hackled hemp for a 
 lacing! But you’ve got a Heart, my lad; and if you’re not hanged 
 before you’re out of your Teens, you’ll show the World that you 
 can Bite as well as Bark some of these days. ’ ’ 
 
 So I became a prime Favorite with Captain Handsell; and, in the 
 Expansion of his Liking toward me, he began to give me instruc¬ 
 tion in the vocation in which a portion of my life has since (with 
 no small distinction, though I say it that should not) been passed. 
 Of scientific Navigation this very Rude and Boorish person knew 
 little, if anything; but as a Practical Seamen he had much skill and 
 experience. Indeed, if the Hands had not enjoyed a lively Faith in 
 the solid sea-going Qualities of Foul-Weather Bob,” as they 
 called him when they did not choose to give him his demoniacal 
 appellation, they would have Mutinied, and sent him, Lashed to a 
 grating, on a voyage of Discovery at least twice in every Twenty- 
 Four Hours. For he led them a most Fearful Life. 
 
 I had imparted to him that 1 was somewhat of a scholar, and that 
 Captain Night had taught me something besides stealing the King’s 
 Deer. There was a Bible on Board, which the Skipper never read 
 —and read, indeed, he was scarcely able to do—but which he turned 
 to the unseemly use, when he had been overcruel to his crew, of 
 swearing them upon it, that they would not inform against him 
 when they got into port. For this was an odd medley of a man, 
 and had his moments of Remorse for evil-doing, or else of Fear as 
 to what might be the Consequences when he reached a Land where 
 ,some degree of Law and Justice were recognized. At some times 
 he would propitiate his crew with donatives of Rum, or even of 
 Money; but the next day he would have his Cruelty Fit on again, 
 and use his men with ten times more Fierceness and Arbitrary 
 Barbarity. But to this Bible and a volume of Nautical Tables our 
 Library was confined; anti as he troubled himself very little about 
 the latter, I was set to read to him sometimes after dinner from the 
 Good Book. But he was ever coarse and ungovernable, and would 
 have no Righteous Doctrine or Tender Precepls, but only took de¬ 
 light when I read to him from the Old Scriptures the stories of the 
 Jews, their bloody wars, and how their captains and men of war 
 slew their Thousands and Tens of Thousands in Battle. And with 
 shame I own that ’twas these Furious Narratives that I liked also; 
 
122 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 and with exceeding pleasure read of Joshua his victories, and Sam¬ 
 son his achievements, and Gideon how he battled, and Agag how 
 they hewed him to pieces. Little cockering books I see now put 
 forth, with pretty decoying pictures, which little children are bidden 
 to read. Stories from the Old Testament -are dressed up in pretty 
 sugared language. Oh, you makers of these little books! oh, you 
 fond mothers who place them so deftly in your children’s hands! 
 bethink you whether this strong meat is fit for Babes. An old 
 Man, whose life has been passed in Storms and Stratagems and 
 Violence, not innocent of blood-spilling, bids you beware! Let the 
 children read that other Book, its Sweet and Tender Counsels, it& 
 examples of Mercy and Love to all Mankind. But if I had a child 
 five or six years old, would I let him fill himself wiih the horrible 
 chronicles of Lust, and Spoliation, and Hatred, and Murder, and 
 Revenge? “ Why shouldn’t I torture the cat?” asks little Tommy. 
 “Didn’t the man in the Good Book tie blazing Torches to the 
 foxes’ tails?” And little Tommy has some show of reason on his 
 side. Let the children grow up; wait till their stomachs are strong 
 enough to digest this potent victual. It is hard indeed for one wno 
 has been a Protestant alway to have to confess that when such in¬ 
 discreet reading is placed in children’s hands, those crafty Romish 
 ecclesiastics speak not altogether foolishly when they tell us that 
 the mere Word slayeth. But on this point I am agreed to consult 
 Doctor Dubiety, and to be bound by his decision. 
 
 In so reading to the Skipper every day, I did not forget to exer¬ 
 cise myself in that other art of Writing, and was in time serviceable 
 enough to be able to keep, in something like a rational and legible 
 form, the Log of “ The Humane Hop wood,” which heretofore had 
 been a kind of cabalistic Register, full of blots, crosses, half-moons, 
 and zig zags, like the chalk score of an unlettered Ale-wife. And 
 the more I read (of surely the grandest and simplest language in 
 the world) the more I discovered how ignorant I was of that essen¬ 
 tial art of Spelling, and blushed at the vile manner in which the 
 Petition I had written to the King of England was set down. And 
 before we came to our voyage’s end I had made a noticeable im¬ 
 provement in the Curious Mystery of writing Plain English. 
 
 One day as the Skipper was taking Tobacco (for he was a great 
 Smoker), he said to me, “ Jack, do you know what you are, lad?” 
 
 “Your cabin-boy,” I answered; “bound to fetch and carry; 
 hempen wages, and not much better treated than a dog.” 
 
 “You lie, you scum,” Captain Handsell answered pleasantly. 
 “ You go snacks with me in the very best, and your beef is boiled 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 123 
 
 in my own copper. But ’tisn’t that I mean. Do you know how 
 you hail on the World’s books? what the number of your mess in 
 Life is?” 
 
 “ Yes,” I replied; “ I’m a Transport. Was to have been hanged; 
 but I wrote out a Petition, and the Gentlemen in London gave it to 
 the King, God bless him!” 
 
 “ Vastly well, mate!” continued the Captain. “Do you know 
 what a Transport is?” 
 
 “ No; something very bad, I suppose; though I don’t see that he 
 can be much worse off than a cabin-boy that’s been cast for Death, 
 and lain in jail with a bayonet wound he got from a Grenadier—let 
 alone having been among the Blacks, and paid anigh to Death by 
 Gnawbit—when he was born a Gentleman.” 
 
 “ You lie again. To be a Transport is worse than aught you’ve 
 had. Why, a cat in a furnace without claws is an Angel of bliss 
 along of a Transport! You’re living in a land of beans and bacon 
 now, in a land of milk and honey and new rum. Wait till you get 
 to Jamaica. Two hundred and odd vagabonds that I’ve got aboard 
 will be given over to the Sheriff at Port Royal, and he’ll sell ’em 
 by auction; and for as long as they’re sent across the herring pond 
 they’ll be slaves, and worse than slaves, to the planters; for the 
 black Niggers themselves, rot ’em! make a mock of a Newgate 
 bird. Hard work in the blazing sun, scarce enough to eat to keep 
 body and soul together, the cat-V nine-tails every day, with the 
 cowhide for a change; and, when your term’s out, not a Joe in 
 your pocket to help you to get back to your own country again. 
 That’s the life of a Transport, my hearty. Why, it’s worse cheer 
 than one of my own hands gets here on shipboard!” 
 
 “ I think I’d rather be hanged,” I said, with something like a 
 Trembling come over me at the Picture the Skipper had drawn. 
 
 “I should rather think you would; but such isn’t your luck, 
 little Jack Dangerous. What would you say if I was to tell you 
 that you hain’t a Transport at all?” 
 
 I stammered out something, I know not what, but could make 
 no substantial reply. 
 
 “ Not a bit of it,” continued Captain Handsell, who by this tithe 
 was getting somewhat Brisk with his afternoon’s Punch. “ Hang 
 it, who’s afraid? I like thee, lad. I’m off my bargain, and don’t 
 care a salt herring if I’m a loser by a few broad pieces in not stick¬ 
 ing to it. I tell thee. Jack, thou’rt Free, as Free as I am; least- 
 ways if we get to Jamaica without going to Davy Jones’s Locker; 
 
124 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 for on blue water no man can say he’s Free. No; not the Skipper 
 even. ’' 
 
 And then lie told me, to my exceeding Amazement and Delight, 
 of what an Iniquitous Transaction I had very nearly been made the 
 victim. It seems that although the Pardon granted me after the 
 Petition I had sent to his Majesty w^as conditional on my transport¬ 
 ing myself to the Plantations, further influence had been made for 
 me in London— by wfliom I knew not then, but I have since dis • 
 covered—and on the very Day of the arrival of our condemned 
 crew in London, an Entire and Free pardon had been issued for 
 John Dangerous, and lodged in the hands of Sir Basil Hop wood at 
 his House in Bishopsgate Street. Along with this merciful Docu¬ 
 ment there came a letter from one of his Majesty’s principal Sec¬ 
 retaries of State, in which directions were given that I was to be 
 delivered over to a person who was my Guardian. And that I was 
 in no danger of being again given up to the villains Cadwallader 
 and Talmash, or their Instrument Gnawbit, was clear, I think, 
 from what Captain Handsell tokl me: That the Person bringing the 
 letter—the Pardon itself being in the hands of a King’s Messenger 
 —had the appearance, although dressed in a lay habit, of being a 
 Foreign Ecclesiastic. The crafty Extortioner of a Knight and 
 Alderman makes answer that I had not come with the other Trans¬ 
 ports to London, but had been left sick at Brentford, in the care of 
 an agent of his there; but he entreats the Foreign Person to go 
 visit Newgate, where he had another gang of unhappy persons for 
 Transportation, and see if I had arrived. And all this while the 
 wretch knew that I was safely clapped up in the yard of the 
 Borough Clink. And the Foreign Person being met at the Old 
 Bailey by one of Hop wood’s creatures, this Thing takes him to 
 walk on the leads of the Session House, praying him not to enter 
 the jail, where many had lately been stricken with the Distemper, 
 and by and by up comes a Messenger all hot as it seemed with ex¬ 
 press riding—though his sweat and dust were all Forged—and says 
 that a gang of Ruffians have broken up the Cage of Brentford, 
 where, for greater safety, the Boy Dangerous had been bestowed; 
 that these Ruffians were supposed to be the remnant of the Blacks 
 of Chari wood Chase who had escaped from capture; and that they 
 had stolen away the Boy Dangerous, and made clear off with him. 
 And, indeed, it was a curious circumstance that Brentford Cage w^as 
 that day broken into (the Times were very Lawless), and a Strange 
 Boy taken out therefrom. But Hopwood had artfully separated me 
 from the Blacks who were in Newgate, and placed me among a 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 125 
 
 stranger mob of riffraff in the Borough Clink. The Newgate Gang 
 were in due time taken, not to Gravesend, but straight away from 
 the Pool to Richmond in Virginia; w T hereas I was conveyed to 
 Gravesend and Deal, and shipped off to Jamaica in “ The Humane 
 Hop wood.” And what do you lliink was the object of this Humane 
 Scoundrel in thus sequestrating the King’s Pardon and robbing me of 
 my liberty, and perhaps of the occasion of returning to the state of 
 a Gentleman, in which I was born? ’Twas simply to kidnap me, 
 and make a wretched profit of twenty or thirty pounds—the Com¬ 
 mander of his Ship going him half in the adventure—by selling me 
 in the West Indies, where white boys not being Transports were 
 then much in demand, to be brought up as clerks and cash-keepers 
 to the Planters. Sure there was never such a Diabolical Plot for 
 so sorry an end; but a vast number of paltry conspiracies, carried 
 out with Infernal Cunning and Ingenuity, had made, in the course 
 of years, Sir Basil Hopwood rich and mighty, a Knight and Aider- 
 man, Parliament man and ex-Lord Mayor. To carry out these de¬ 
 signs was just part of the ordinary calling of a Ship master in those 
 days. ’Twas looked upon as the simplest matter of business in the 
 world. To kidnap a child was such an every-day' deed of devilry, 
 that the slightest amount of pains was deemed sufficing to conceal 
 the abominable thing. And thus the Foreign Person saw with 
 dolorous Eyes the convoy of convicts take their departure from New¬ 
 gate to ship on board the Virginian vessel at St. Katherine’s Stairs, 
 while poor little Jack Dangerous was being smuggled away from 
 Gravesend to Jamaica. 
 
 And to Jamaica I should have gone to be sold as a Slave, but 
 for the strange occurrence of the Captain taking a liking to me. He 
 dared not have kept me among the convicts, as the Sheriff at Port 
 Royal would have had a List in Duplicate of their names sent out 
 by a fast-sailing King’s Ship; for tlje Government at Home had 
 some faint Suspicion of the prevailing custom of Kidnapping, and 
 made some Feeble Attempts to stop it. But he would have kept 
 me on board as a ship-boy till the Auction of the Transports was 
 over, and then he would have coolly sold me, for as much as I 
 would fetch, to some Merchant of Kingston or Port Royal, who 
 was used to deal in flesh and blood, and who, in due course, would 
 have transferred me. at a profit, to some up-country planter. 
 
 “ But that shall never be, Jack, my hearty,” Captain Handsell 
 exclaimed, when, after many more pipes of Tobacco and rummers 
 of Punch, he had explained these wonderful things to me. “I 
 shall lose my half share in the venture, and shall have to tell a 
 
126 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 game lie to yonder old Skin-a-fiea-for-the hide-and-fat in London; 
 but what o’ that? I tell thee I won’t have the sale of thy flesh and 
 blood on my conscience. No slave shall you be, forsooth. I have 
 an aunt at Kingston, as honest a woman as ever broke biscuit, 
 although she has got a dash of the tar-brush on her mug, and she 
 shall take charge of thee; and if thou wert a gentleman boin I’ll 
 be hanged if thou sha’n’t be a gentleman bred.” 
 
 It would have been more fitted to the performance of this Honor¬ 
 able and Upright Action toward one that he had no motive at all in 
 serving (in Fact, his Interest lay right the other way), that I should 
 be able to chronicle a sensible Reformation in my Commander’s 
 bearing and conduct toward others; but, alas, that I am unable to 
 do; the truth being that he continued, unto the very end of our 
 voyage, to be toward the Hands the same brutal and merciless 
 Tyrant that he had, once, in the days of his Rope’s End Discipline, 
 been toward me. ’Twas Punch and Cobbing, Tobacco and Ugly 
 Words, from the rising of the Sun until the setting of the same. 
 And for this reason it is (having seen so many Contradictions in 
 Human character) that I am never surprised to hear of a Good 
 Action on the part of a very Bad Man, or of a Bad Action done by 
 him who is ordinarily accounted a very Good one. 
 
 “ The Humane Hop wood ” was a very bad Sailer—being, in truth, 
 as Leaky an old Tub as ever escaped breaking-up for Fire-Wood at 
 Lumberers’ Wharfs—and we were seven weeks at Sea before we 
 fell in with a trade-wind, and then setting every Rag we could 
 hoist, went gayly before that Favorable breeze, and so cast anchor 
 at Port Royal in the island of Jamaica. 
 
 Captain Handsell was as good as his word. Not a syllable did 
 he say to the Sheriff of Kingston about my not being a Transport, 
 or being, indeed, in the Flesh at all in those parts; for lie argued 
 that the Sheriff might have some foregatherings with the Knight 
 and Alderman of Bisliopsgate Street by correspondence, and that 
 the Wealthy Extortioner might make use of his credit in the Sugar 
 Islands to do me, some day or another, an ill-turn. But he had me 
 privily on shore when the Transports had all been assigned to 
 different task-masters; and in due lime he introduced me to his 
 Aunt, his Brother’s Wife indeed (and I believe he had come out to 
 the Island with an Old-Bailey Passport; but Rum and the climate 
 had been too strong for him, and he had so Died and left her a 
 Widow). 
 
 She was by right and title,- then, Mistress Handsell, with the 
 Christian name of Sarah; but among the colored people of Kings- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 127 
 
 ton she went by the name of Maum Buckey, and, among her more 
 immediate intimates, as “ Yaller Sally.” And although she passed 
 for being very Wealthy, I declare that she was nothing but a 
 Washer-woman. This Washing Trade of hers, however, which she 
 carried on for the King and Merchants’ ships that were in Harbor, 
 and for nearly all the rich Merchants and Traders of Kingston, 
 brought Maum Buckey in a very pretty penny; and not only was her 
 tub commerce a brisk ready-money business, but she had two 
 flourishing plantations—one for the growing of Coffee, and the 
 other of Sugar—near the town of Savanna de la Mar. Moreover, 
 she had a distillery of Rum and Arrack in Kingston itself, and 
 everybody agreed that she must be very well to do in the world. 
 She was an immensely fat old Mulatto woman, on the wrong side 
 of Fifty when I knew her, and her Mother had been a slave that 
 had been the Favorite Housekeeper to the English Governor, who, 
 dying, left her her Freedom, and enough Money to carry on that 
 Trade of cleansing clothes which her Daughter afterward made so 
 profitable. 
 
 Maum Buckey and I speedily became very good friends. She 
 was proud of her relationship with a white Englishman—a right 
 go-down Buckra as she called him—who commanded a ship, and 
 besides recommended her to other gentlemen in his way for a 
 Washer-woman; and although she took care to inform me, before 
 we had been twenty-four hours acquainled, that her Husband, Sam 
 Handsell, had been a sad Rascal, who would have drunk all her 
 Money away, had he not Timeously drunk himself to death, she 
 made me the friendliest welcome, and promised that she would do 
 all she could for me, “ the little piccaninny buckra,” who was set 
 down by Mr. Handsell as being the son of an old Shipmate of his 
 that had met with misfortunes. After a six-weeks’ stay in the 
 island, and “ The Humane Hop wood ” getting Freight in the way of 
 Sugar, Captain Handsell bade me good-bye, and set sail with a fair 
 wind for Bristol, England. I never set Eyes upon him again. 
 You see, my Friends, that this is no cunningly spun Romance, in 
 which a character disappears for a Season, and turns up again, as 
 pat as you please, at the end of the Fourth Volume; but a plain 
 Narrative of Facts, in which the Personages introduced must needs 
 Come and Go precisely as they Came and Went to me in Real Life. 
 
 I have often wished, when I had Power and Riches, to meet with 
 and show my Gratitude to the rough old Sea-Porpoise that used to 
 Rope’s-end me so, and was so tearing a Tyrant to his Hands, and 
 yet in a merg fit of kind-heartedness played the Honest Man to me. 
 
128 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 when All Tilings seemed against me, and rescued Jolin Dangerous 
 from a Foul and Wicked Trap. 
 
 Maum Buckey liad a great rambling house—it had but one 
 Story, with a Piazza running round, but a huge number of Rooms 
 and Yards—in the suburbs of Kingston. There did I take up my 
 abode. She Had at least twenty Negro and Mulotter Women and 
 Girls that worked for her at the Washing, and at Starching and 
 Ironing, for the. Mill was always going with her. ’Twas wash, 
 wash, wash, and wring, wring, wring, and scrub, scrub, scrub, 
 all day and all night too, when the harbor was full of ships. Not 
 that she ever touched Soapsuds or Flat-iron or Goffering-stick her¬ 
 self. She was vastly too much of a Fine Lady for that, and would 
 loll about in a great chair—one Negro child fanning her with a 
 great Palmetto, and another tickling the soles of her feet—sipping 
 her Sangaree as daintily as you please. She w r as the most ignorant 
 old creature that ever was known, could neither read nor write, and 
 made a sad jumble of the King’s English when she spoke; yet, by 
 mere natural quickness and rule-of-thumb, she could calculate to a 
 Joe how much a Ship-master’s Washing-Bill came to. And wiien 
 she had settled that according to her Scale of Charges, which were 
 of the most Exorbitant Kind, she w'ould Grin and say, “ He dam 
 ship, good consignee;” or, “ He dam ship, dam rich owmer; stick 
 him on ’notlier dam fl’ poun’ English, my chile;” and for some 
 curious reason or another, ’ twas seldom that a ship-master cared to 
 quarrel with Maum Buckey’s Washing-Bills. She, being so unlet¬ 
 tered, had been compelled to engage all manner of Whites who 
 could write and read—now Transports, now' Free—to keep her ac¬ 
 counts, and draw her necessary writings; but it w r as hard to tell 
 which were the greatest Rogues, the Convicts wdiose term w'as out, 
 or the Free Gentlemen w r ho had come out without a pair of iron 
 • garters to their hose. In those days all our plantations, and Jamaica 
 most notably, w r ere full of the very Scum and Riffraff of our En¬ 
 glish towns. ’Twas as though you had let Fleet Ditch, dead dogs 
 and all, loose on a West-India Island. That Ragged Regiment 
 which Falstaff in the Play would not march through Coventry with 
 were at free quarters in Jamaica, leave alone the regular garrison 
 of King’s Troops, of which the private men were mostly pick¬ 
 pockets, poachers, and runaway serving-men, wiio had enlisted to 
 save themselves from a merry-go-round at Rope Fair; and the 
 officers the worst and most deboslied Gentlemen that ever w*ore his 
 Majesty’s cockade, and gave themselves airs because they had three 
 quarters of a yard of black ribbon crinked up in tlieir hats. Cap- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 129 
 
 tain This, who had been kicked out of a Charing-Cross coffee-house 
 for pocketing a Puncli-ladle while the drawer was not looking; Lieu¬ 
 tenant That, who had been caned on the Mall for cheating at cards; 
 and Ensign T’other, who had been my lord’s valet, and married his 
 Madame for enough cash to buy a pair of colors withal. Military 
 gentlemen of this feather used to serve in the West Indies in those 
 days, and swagger about Kingston as proud as peacocks, when 
 nvery one of them had done that at home they should be cashiered 
 for. Maum Buckey would not have to do with these light-come- 
 light-go gallants. “Me wash for Gem’n Ship-Cap’n, Gem’n 
 Marchant, Gem’n Keep store,” she would observe; “ me not wash 
 for dam Soger-officer. ” 
 
 Her Sugar Plantation was in charge of a shrewd Nortli-country- 
 man, against whom, save that he was a runaway bankrupt from 
 Hull in England, there was nothing to say. Her Coffee Estate was 
 managed by an Irishman that had married, as he thought, a great 
 Fortune, but found the day after his wedding that she was but a 
 fortune-hunter like himself, and had at least three husbands living 
 jn divers parts of the world. And finally, the Distillery had for 
 overseer one, an Englishman, that had been a Horse Couper, and a 
 runner for the Crimps, at Wapping, and a supercargo that was not 
 too honest—albeit he had to keep his accounts pretty square with 
 Maiim Buckey, than whom there never was a woman who had a 
 keener Eye for business or a finer Scent for a Rogue. 
 
 She made me her Book-keeper for the Washing Department. 
 ’Twas no! a very dignified Employment for one that had been a 
 young Gentleman, but ’twas vastly better than the Fate of one who, 
 but for a mere Accident, might have been a young Slave. So I kept 
 Maum Buckey’s Books, teaching myself how to do so featly from a 
 Ready Reckoner and Accomptant’s Assistant (Mr. Cocker’s), which 
 I bought at a Book-store in Kingston. The work was pretty hard, 
 and the old Dame of the Tub kept me tightly enough at it; but 
 when work was over she was very kind to me, and we had the very 
 best of living: ducks and geese and turkeys and pork (of which the 
 Mulotter women are inordinately fond, although I never could rec¬ 
 oncile to myself how their stomachs, in so hot a climate, could 
 endure so .Luscious a Food); fish of the primest from the Harbor of 
 Port Royal, lobsters and crabs and turtle (which is as cheap as 
 Tripe with us, and so plentiful, that the Niggers will sometimes 
 disdain to eat it, though ’tis excellent served as soup in the creat¬ 
 ure’s own shell, and a most digestible Viand); to say nothing of 
 bananas, shaddock, mango, plantains, and the many delicious fruits 
 
130 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 and vegetables of that Fertile Colony; where, if the land-breeze in 
 the morning did not half choke you with harsh dust, and the sea- 
 breeze in the afternoon pierce you to the marrow with deadly chills, 
 and if one could abstain from surfeits of fruits and over-drinking 
 of the too abundant ardent spirits of the country, a man might live 
 a very jovial kind of life. However, I was young and healthy, and, 
 though never a shirk of my glass in after-day, prudently moder¬ 
 ate in my Potations. During four years that I passed in the island 
 of Jamaica (one of the brightest jewels in the British Crown, and as 
 Loyal, I delight to say, as I am myself), I don’t think I had the 
 Yellow Fever more than three times, and at last grew as tough as 
 leather, and could say Bo to a land-crab (how many a White Man’s 
 carcass have those crabs picked clean at the Palisadoes!), as though 
 1 feared him no more than a Green Goose. 
 
 It may be fitting here that I should say something about that 
 Abominable Curse of Negro Slavery, which was then so Familiar 
 and Unquestioned a Thing in all our Colonies, that its innate and 
 Detestable Wickedness was scarcely taken into account in men’s 
 minds. Speaking only by the Card, and of that which I saw with 
 my own eyes, I don’t think that Maum Buckey was any crueler 
 than other slave-owners of her class; for ’tis well known that the 
 Mulotter women are far more severe task-mistresses than the 
 Whites. But, Lord! Whites and colored people, who in the West 
 Indies are permitted, when free, to own their fellow-creatures who 
 are only a shade darker in color than they, left little to choose be¬ 
 twixt on the score of cruelty. When 1 tell you that I have seen 
 Slave Women and Girls chained to the washing-tub, their naked 
 bodies all one gore of blood from the lashes of the whip; that on 
 the public wharf at Kingston I have seen a Negro man drawn up 
 by his hands to a crane used for- lifting merchandise, while his toes, 
 that barely touched the ground, were ballasted with a thirty-pound 
 weight, and, in that Trim, beaten with the Raw Hide or with 
 Tamarind-Bushes till you could lay your two fingers in the furrows 
 made by the whip (with which expert Scourgineers boast they can 
 lay deep ruts in a Deal Board), or else I have seen the poor Miser¬ 
 able Wretch the next day lying on his face on the Beach, and a 
 Comrade taking the prickles of the Tamarind Stubs, which are 
 tempered in the Fire, and far worse than English Tliornbushes, out 
 of his back—you may imagine that ’twas no milk-and- water Regi¬ 
 men that the slaves in the West Indies had to undergo at the hands 
 of their Hard masters and mistresses. Also, I have known slaves 
 taken to the Sick-House or Hospital, so dreadfully mangled with 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 131 
 
 unmerciful correction as for their wounds to be one mass of putre¬ 
 faction, and they shortly do give up the Ghost; while, at other 
 times, I have seen unfortunate creatures that had been so lacerated, 
 both back and front, as to be obliged to crawl about on All Fours. 
 Likewise have I seen Negro men, Negro women, yea, and Negro 
 children, with iron collars and prongs aboil t their necks; with logs 
 riveted to their legs, with their Ears torn off, their Nostrils slit, 
 their Cheeks branded, and otherwise most frightfully Mutilated. 
 Item, I have knowm at the dinner-table of a Planter of w T ealth and 
 repute, the Jumper, or Public Flogger, to come in and ask if Mas¬ 
 ter and Missee had any commands for him; and, by the order of 
 the Lady of the House, take out two Decent Women that had been 
 waiting at Table, and give them fifty lashes apiece on the public 
 parade, every stroke drawing Blood and bringing Flesh with it, and 
 they, when all was over, embracing and thanking him for their 
 Punishment, as was the custom of the Colony.* Item, within my 
 own knowledge have I been made familiar with many acts of the 
 Deepest Barbarity. Mistresses, for Jealousy or Caprice, pouring 
 boiling-water or hot melted Sealing-Wax oil their slave-girls’ flesh 
 after they have suffered the worst Tortures of the whip; and white 
 Ladies of Education rubbing Cayenne pepper into the eyes of 
 Negroes w r ho had offended them, or singeing the tenderest parts of 
 their limbs with sticks of fire. And of one horrid instance have I 
 heard of Malignant and Hellish revenge in Two Ladies who were 
 Sisters (and bred at a Fine Boarding-School in England), wiio, hav¬ 
 ing a spite against a yellow woman that attended on them, did tie 
 her hands and feel, and so beat her nearly to death with the heels 
 of their slippers; and not satisfied with that, or with laving her 
 gashed body with Vinegar and Chillies, did send for a Negro man, 
 and bid him, under threats of punishment, strike ( ut two of the 
 Victim’s teeth with a punch, which, to the shame of Human 
 Womanhood, w r as done. 
 
 But enough of these Horrors:—not the worst that I have seen, 
 though, in the course of my Adventures; only I will not further 
 sicken you with the Recital of the Sufferings inflicted on the 
 Wretched Creatures by Ladies and Gentlemen, wiio had had the 
 first breeding, and went to Church every Sunday. I have merely 
 set down these dreadful things to work out the theory of my Belief, 
 
 * That which I have made Captain Dangerous relate in fiction will be found 
 narrated, act for act, and nearly word for word, in the very unromantic evi¬ 
 dence given before the first parliamentary committee on slavery and the slave- 
 trade moved for by Mr. Clarkson. —Ed. 
 
1 32 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 that the World is growing Milder and more Merciful every day; 
 and that the Barbarities which were once openly practiced in the 
 broad sunshine, and without e’er a one lifting finger or wagging 
 tongue against them, are becoming rarer and rarer, and will soon 
 be Impossible of Commission. The unspeakable Miseries of the 
 Middle Passage (of which I have been an eye-witness) exist no 
 more; really Humane and Charitable Gentlemen, not such False 
 Rogues and Kidnappers as your Hopwoods, are bestirring them¬ 
 selves in Parliament and elsewhere to better the Dolorous Condi¬ 
 tion of the Negro; and although it may be a Decree of Providence 
 that the children of Ham are to continue always slaves and servants 
 to their white brethren, I see every day that men’s hearts are being 
 more and more benevolently turned toward them, and that laws, 
 ere long, will be made to forbid their being treated worse than the 
 beasts that perish. 
 
 CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH. 
 
 OF OTHER MY ADVENTURES UNTIL MY COMING TO BE A MAN. 
 
 Thus in a sultry colony, among Black Negroes and their cruel 
 Taskmasters, and I the clerk to a Mulotter Washer-woman, did I 
 come to be full sixteen years of age, and a stalwart Lad of my 
 inches. But for that Fate, which from the first irrevocably decreed 
 that mine was to be a Roving Life, almost to its end, I might have 
 continued in the employ of Maum Buckey until Manhood overtook 
 me. The Dame was not unfavorable toward me; and, without 
 vanity, may I say that, had I waited my occasion, ’tis not unlikely 
 but that I might have married her, and become the possessor of her 
 plump Money-Bags, full of Moidores, pilar Dollars, and pieces of 
 Eight. Happily I was not permitted so to disparage my lineage, 
 and put a coffee colored blot on my escutcheon. No, my Lilias is 
 no Mulotter Quartercaste. ’Twas my roving propensity that made 
 me set but little store by the sugar-eyes and Molasses-speech which 
 Madame Soapsuds was not loath to bestow on me, a tall and likely 
 Lad. I valued her sweetness just as though it had been so much 
 cane-trash. With much impatience I had w T aited for the coming 
 back of my friendly skipper, that he might advise me as to my 
 future career. But, as I have already warned the Reader, it was 
 fated that I was to see that kindly ship-master no more. Once, in¬ 
 deed, the old ship came into Port Royal, and right eagerly did I 
 take boat and board her. But her name had been changed from 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 133 
 
 "The Humane Hop wood ” to "The Protestant Pledge." She 
 was in the Guinea trade now, and brought Negroes, poor souls, to • 
 slave in our Plantations. The Mariner that was her commander 
 had but dismal news to tell me of my friendly Handsell. He, re¬ 
 turning to the old country, had, it seems, a Mighty Quarrel with his 
 Patron—and my Patron too, forsooth—Villain Hop wood. Whether 
 he had reproached him with his treachery to me or not, I know not; • 
 but it is certain that both parted full of Wrath and High Disdain, 
 and each swearing to be the Ruin of the other. But Gold had, as 
 it has always in a Mammon-ridden world, the longest, strongest 
 pull. Devil Hopwood found it easy to get the better of a poor un¬ 
 lettered tarpaulin, that knew well enough the way into a Wapping 
 Alehouse, but quite lost himself in threading the mazes of a great 
 man's Antechamber. ’Tis inconceivable how much dirty work 
 there was done in my young days between Corinthian columns and 
 over Turkey carpets, and under ceilings painted by Verrio and 
 Laguerre. Sir Basil, I believe, went to a great man, and puts a 
 hundred guineas into the hands of his Gentleman—by which I mean 
 his Menial Servant, save that he wore no Livery; but there’s many 
 a Base wretch hath his soul in plush, and the Devil’s aiguilettes on 
 his heart. How much out of the Hundred my Lord took, and 
 ho.w much his Gentleman kept, it serves not to inquire. They 
 struck a Bargain, and short was the Time before Ruin came swoop¬ 
 ing down on Captain Handsell. He had gone into the Channel 
 trade; and they must needs have him excliequered for smuggling 
 brandies and lace from St. Malo’s. Quick on this follows a criminal 
 Indictment, from which, as a Fool, he Hies; for he might at least 
 have threatened to say damaging things of Brute Basil in the dock, 
 and have made terms with him before trial came on. And then he 
 must needs take command of a miserable lugger that fetched and 
 carried between Deal and Dunquerque—the old, old, sorry, tinpot 
 business of kegs of strong waters, and worse contraband in the guise 
 of Jacobite dispatches. To think of brave men’s lives being risked 
 in these twopenny errands, and a heart of Oak brought to the gal¬ 
 lows, that clowns may get drunk the cheaper, or traitors—for your 
 Jacobite conspirators were but liandy-dandy Judases, now to King 
 James and now to King George—exchange their rubbishing ciphers 
 the easier. It drives me wild to think of these pinchbeck enter¬ 
 prises. If a man’s tastes lead him toward the Open, the Bold, 
 and the Free, e’en let him ship himself off to a far climate, the 
 hotter the better, where Prizes are rich, and the King’s writ on 
 Assault and Battery runneth not—nor for a great many other things 
 
134 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 ayont Assault and Battery—and where, up a snug creek, of wdiicli 
 he knows the pilotage well, he may give a good account of a King’s 
 ship when he finds her. He who does anything contrair to English 
 law within five hundred leagues of an English lawyer or an En¬ 
 glish law-court is a very Ass and Dolt. Fees and costs will have 
 their cravings; and from the process-server to the Hangman all 
 will have their due. Give me an offing, where there is no law but 
 that of the strong hand and the bold Heart. Any sharks but land- 
 sharks for John Dangerous. I never see a parchment-visaged, fee- 
 clutcliing limb of the law but I long to beat him, and, if I had him 
 on blue water, to trice him up higher than ever he went before. 
 But for a keg of brandy! But fora packet of treason-papers! Shame! 
 ’tis base, ’tis idiotic. And this did the unlucky Handsell find to his 
 cost. I believe he was slain in a midnight affray with some Biding 
 Officers of the Customs close unto Deal, about two years after his 
 going iuto a D ade that was as mean as it was perilous. 
 
 So no more Hope for me from that quarter. The skipper of 
 “ The Protestant Pledge ” would have retained me on board for a 
 Carouse; but I had too much care for my Head and my Liver for 
 such prant s, and went back, as dolefully as might be, to keep Maum 
 Buckey’s washing-books. I chafed at the thought that I could do 
 .no more. I told her the grim news I had heard of her brother-in- 
 law, whereat she wept somewhat; for where Whites were concerned 
 she was not a hard-hearted woman. But she cheered up speedily, 
 saying that Sam he had come to as sorry an end, and that she sup¬ 
 posed there was but one way with the Handsells, Rum and Riot 
 being generally their Ruin. 
 
 As it is one of the failings of youth not to know when it is well 
 off, and to grow A-weary even of continued prosperity, I admit that 
 the life I led palled upon me, and that I longed to change it. But 
 it was not, all things considered, so very unpleasant a one. True, 
 the employment was a sorry one, and utterly beneath the dignity 
 of a Gentleman, such as bearing fardels in the streets or unloading 
 casks and bales at the wharf, for instance. But it is in man’s nat¬ 
 ure never to be satisfied, and when he is well, to long to be better, 
 and so, by force of striving, to tumble into a Hole, where indeed he 
 is at the Best, for he is Dead. At this distance of time, though I 
 have many comforts around me—Worldly Goods, a Reputable 
 name, my Child, and her Husband—I still look back on my old 
 life in Jamaica, and confess that Providence dealt very mercifully 
 with me in those by-gone days. For I had enough to eat and to 
 drink, and a Mistress who, though Passionate and Quarrelsome 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 135 
 
 enough by times, was not unkind. If she would swear, she would 
 also tender gentle Language upon occasion; and if she would throw 
 things, she was not backward in giving one a dollar to heal one’s 
 pate. An odd life it was, truly. There was very little of that mag¬ 
 nificence about the town of Port Royal in my days which I have 
 heard the Creoles to boast about. It may have been handsome 
 enough in the Spaniard’s Reign, or in King Charles the Second’s; 
 ' but I have heard that its most comely parts had been swallowed up 
 by an Earthquake, and, when I remember it, the Main thorough¬ 
 fare was like nothing half so much as the Fag End of Kent Street 
 in the Borough, where Ihe Broom-men live. As for public scav¬ 
 engers—human at least—there were none; for that salutary prac¬ 
 tice of putting rebellious Blacks into chain-gangs, and making them 
 sweep the streets—which might be well done in London with Pick¬ 
 pockets and the like trash, to their souls’ health and the benefit of 
 the Body-politic—did not then obtain. The only way of clearing 
 ' the offal was by the obscene birds that flew down from the hills; 
 Messieurs the land-crabs, who were assuredly the best scavengers of 
 all, not stirring beyond the palisadoes. Some things were very 
 cheap, but others inordinately dear. Veal was at a prodigious price; 
 and ’twas a common saying, that you could buy Four children in 
 England cheaper than you could one calf in Jamaica. But for the 
 products and dishes of the colony, which I have elsewhere hinted 
 at, all was as low-priced as it was abundant. What droll names 
 did they give, too, unto their fish and flesh and fowl! How often 
 have you in England heard of Crampos, Bonettas, Ringrays, Alba- 
 coras, and Sea-adders, among fish; of Noddies and Boobies and 
 Pitternells and Sheerwaters among birds? And Calialou Soup, and 
 Pepperpot to break your Fast withal in the morning, and make 
 you feel, ere you got accustomed to that Fiery victual, like a Sala¬ 
 mander for some hours afterward. 
 
 Now and then also, with some other young white folks with 
 whom I had stricken up acquaintance—clerks, storekeepers, and the 
 like—would we seek out the dusky beauties of the town in their 
 own quarters, and shake a leg at their Dignity Routs, Blackamoor 
 Drums, and Pumpkin-Faced Assemblies, or by wliat other name 
 the poor Black wretches might choose to call their uproarious 
 _ merry-makings. There, in some shed, all hustled together as a 
 Moorfields Sweetener does luck in a bag, would be a mob of men 
 and women Negroes, all dressed in their bravest finery, although 
 little of it was to be seen either on their Backs or their Feet, the 
 Head being the part of their Bodies which they chiefly delight to 
 
136 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 ornament. Such ribbons and owches, such gay-colored rags and 
 blazing tatters, would they assume, and to the Trips and Rounds 
 played to them by some Varlet of a black fiddler, with his hat at a 
 prodigious cock, and mounted on a Tub, like unto the sign of the 
 Indian Bacchus at the Tobacconist’s, would they dance and stamp 
 and foot it merrily—with plenty of fruit, salt fish, pork, roasted 
 plantain, and so forth, to regale themselves withal, not forgetting 
 punch and sangaree—quite forgetful, poor mercurial wretches, for 
 the time being of Fetters and the Scourge and the Driver that would 
 hurry them to their dire labor the morrow morn. Surely there 
 never did exist so volatile, light-spirited, feather-brained a race as 
 these same Negro Blacks. They will whistle and crack nuts, ay, 
 and dance and sing to the music of the Fiddle or the Banjar an 
 hour after the skin lias been half flayed off their backs. They 
 seem to bear no particular Malice to their Tormentors, so long as 
 their weekly rations of plantain, yam, or salt fish, be not denied 
 them, and that they have Osnaburgs enow to make them shirts and 
 petticoats to cover themselves withal. Give them but these, and 
 their dance at Christmas time, with a kind word thrown to them 
 now and again, just as you would fling a marrow-bone to a dog, and 
 they will get along well enough in slavery, almost grinning at its 
 Horrors and making light of its unutterable Woes. I never saw so 
 droll a people in my life. Nor is it the less astonishing thing about 
 them that, beneath all this seeming liglit-heartedness and jollity, 
 there often lies smoldering a Fire of the Fiercest passion and black¬ 
 est revenge. The dark-skinned fellow who may be flapping the 
 flies away from you in the morning, and bearing your kicks and 
 cuffs as though they were so many cates and caresses, may, in the 
 evening, make one in a circle of Heathen monsters joined together 
 to listen to the Devilish Incantations of the Obeah man—to mingle 
 in ceremonies most hideous and abominable, and of which perhaps 
 that of swearing eternal Hatred to the White Race over a calabash 
 that is made out of the skull of a new-born Babe, and filled with 
 Dirt, Rum, and Blood mixed together, is perchance the least hor¬ 
 rid. And yet I don’t think the unhappy creatures are by nature 
 either treacherous, malicious, or cruel. ’Tis only when the fit seizes 
 them. Like the Elephants, the idea suddenly comes over them that 
 they are wronged—that ’tis the White Man who has wrought them 
 all these evils; and that they are bround to Trample him to pieces 
 without more ado. But ’tis all done in a capricious, cobweb-headed 
 manner; and on the morrow they are as quiet and good-tempered 
 as may be. Then, just as suddenly, will come over them a fit of 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 13? 
 
 despondency, or dark, dull, brooding Melancholy. If they are at 
 sea, they will cast themselves into the waves and swim right toward 
 the sharks, whose jaws are yawning to devour them. If they are 
 on dry land, they will, for daj^s together, refuse all food, or worse 
 still, go dirt-eating, stuffing themselves with clay till they have the 
 mal (Vestomac, and so die; this mol, of which our English stomach¬ 
 ache gives no valid translation (which must prove my excuse for 
 placing here a foreign word), being, with the Yaws, their most fre¬ 
 quent and fatal complaint. Of a less perplexing nature also are 
 thier tits of the Sulks, when, for more than a week at a time, they 
 will remain wholly mute and intractably obstinate, folding their 
 arms or squatting on their hams, and refusing either to move or 
 speak, whatsoever threats may be uttered or enforced against them, 
 and setting no more store by the deep furrowing cuts of the Cow¬ 
 hide whip (that will make marks in a deal board, if well laid on, 
 the which I have often seen) than by the buzzings of a Shambles 
 Fly. They had many ways of treating these tits of the sulks in my 
 time, all of them cruel, and none of them successful. One was, 
 to set the poor wretches in the stocks or the bilboes, rubbing chillies 
 into their eyes to keep them from goingto sleep. Another was a dose 
 of the Fire-cane, as it was called, which was just a long paddle, or 
 slender oar, pierced with holes at the broadest part,' with the which 
 the patient being belabored, a blister on the flesh rose to each hole 
 of the Paddle. A curious method, and one much followed; but 
 the Negroes sulked all the more for it. There was a Dutchwoman 
 from Surinam, who had brought with her from that plantation of 
 the Hollanders that highly Ingenious Mode of Torment known as 
 the “ Spanso Bocko.”* The manner of it was this. You took 
 your Negro and tied him wrists and ankles, so bending him into a 
 neat curve. Then, if his spine did not crack the while, you thrust 
 a stake between his legs, and having thus comfortably Trussed 
 him, pullet fashion, you laid him on the ground one side upward, 
 and at your leisure scarified him from one cheek to one heel with 
 any instrument of Torture that came handy. Then he (or she, did 
 not at all matter in the Dutchwoman’s esteem), being one gore of 
 ■welts and gashes, was thought to be Done enough on one side, and 
 consequently required Doing t’other. So one that stood by to help 
 just took hold of the stake and turned the Human Pullet over, and 
 then he was so thoroughly basted as sometimes to be Done a little 
 too much, often dying on the spot from that Rib wasting. Oh, it 
 
 * Vide Steelman's “ Surinam.” 
 
138 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 was rare sport! I wonder whereabouts in the nethermost Hell the 
 cunning Dutchman is now who first devised this torment; also the 
 Dutchwoman who practiced it? I can fancy Signor Beelzebub 
 and his Imps taking a keen delight in their application of the 
 Spanso Bocko. The which I never knew cure a Negro of the sulks. 
 They would force back their tongues into their gullets while the 
 torment was going on, determined not so much as to utter a moan, 
 and, having a peculiar Art that way, brought by them from their 
 own country, would often contrive to suffocate themselves and Ex¬ 
 pire. Their own country! That is what one of the miserable be¬ 
 ings said when, being threatened with torment of a peculiarly out¬ 
 rageous nature, he flung himself into a caldron of boiling sugar, 
 and was scalded to death on the instant. Let me not omit to men¬ 
 tion while I am on this chapter of Brutality—wreaked by Christian 
 men upon poor Heathen savages, for many of them were not many 
 weeks from Guinea and Old Calabar, where they had been worship¬ 
 ing Mumbo Jumbo, and making war upon one another in their 
 own Pagan fashion—that I have known Planters even more refined 
 in their cruelty. They would make their slaves drink salt water, 
 and then set them out in the hot sun tied to the outside posts of the 
 Piazza. The end of that was, that they went Raving Mad, gnaw¬ 
 ing their Tongues and poor blubberous Lips to pieces * before they 
 died. Another genius, who was a proficient in his Humanities, 
 and quite of a classic frame of mind in his cruelties, bethought 
 himself of a mode of Torture much practiced among the Ancient 
 Persians, and so must needs smear the body of an unhappy Negro 
 all over with molasses. Then, binding him fast to a stake in the 
 open, the flies and mosquitoes got at him—for he w r as kept there 
 from one morning until the next—and he presently gave up the 
 Ghost. But nothing that I ever saw or heard of during the time 
 of my living in the Western Indies, could equal the Romantic Tort¬ 
 ure, not so much invented as imported, by a Gentleman Merchant; 
 who had lived among the islands of the Grecian Archipelago, and 
 whose jocose humor it was to imprison his women slaves in loose 
 garments of leather, very tightly secured, however, at the wrists, 
 neck, and ankles. In the same garments, before fastening round 
 the limbs of the victims, one or more infuriated cats were intro¬ 
 duced; the which ferocious animals, playfully disporting themselves 
 in their attempt to find a point of egress, would so up and tear, and 
 mangle, and lacerate, with their Terrible claws, the flesh of the 
 
 * Dean of Myddelton’s Evidence, Clarkson’s Committee. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 139 
 
 sufferers, that not all the Brine-washing or pepper-pod-rubbing in 
 the world, afterward humanely resorted to on their release from 
 their leathern sepulcher, would save them from mortification. There 
 was a completeness and gusto about this Performance that always 
 made me think my Gentleman Merchant from the Greek Islands a 
 very Great Mind. The mere vulgar imitations of his Process which, 
 in times more Modern, I have heard of—such as taking an angry cat 
 by the tail and drawing its claws all abroad down the back of a 
 Negro strapped on to a plank, so making a map of all the rivers in 
 Tartarus from his neck to his loins—are, in my holding, beneath 
 contempt. There is positive Genius in that idea of sliutting-up the 
 cats in a hide-bound prison, and so letting them work their own 
 wills on the inner walls; and I hope my Gentleman Merchant has 
 as warm a niche in Signor Beelzebub’s Temple of Fame, as the 
 Great Dutch Philosopher who first dreamed of the Spanso Bocko. 
 
 Before I left the island .of Jamaica, there befell me an adventure 
 which I may briefly narrate. It being the sickly season and very 
 few ships in port, Maum Buckey’s business was somewhat at a 
 stand-still, and with little difficulty I obtained from her a fort¬ 
 night’s holiday. I might have spent it with no small pleasure, and 
 even profit, at one of her up-country plantations, or at the Estate of 
 some other Planter; for I had friends and to spare ■among the white 
 Overseers and Book-keepers; and although the Gentry—that is to 
 say, the Enriched Adventurers, who deemed themselves such—were 
 of course too High and Mighty to associate with one of my Mean 
 Station, I was at no loss for companions among those of my own 
 degree. So, bent upon a frolic, and being by this time a good 
 Rider and a capital shot, I joined a band of wild young Slips like 
 myself, to go up the country hunting the miserable Negroes that 
 had Marooned, as it was called. These Maroons were runaway 
 slaves who had bid a sudden good-bye to Bolts and shackles, whips 
 and rods, and shown their Tyrants a clean pair of heels, finding 
 their covert in the dense jungles that covered the mountain slopes, 
 where they lived on the wild animals and birds they could shoot 
 or snare, and sometimes making descents to the nearest plantations, 
 thence to carry off cattle, ponies, or pigs, or whatever else they could 
 lay their felonious hands upon. These were the Blacks again, you 
 will say, with a vengeance, and at many Thousand Miles’ distance 
 from Charlwood Chase; but those poor varlets of Deer-stealers in 
 England never dreamed of taking Human Life, save when defend¬ 
 ing their own, in a fair stand-up Fight; whereas the Maroons had 
 no such scruples, and spared neither age, nor sex, nor Degree—that 
 
140 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 had a white skin—in their blood-thirsty frenzy. The Savage In¬ 
 dians in the American plantations, who will swoop down on some 
 peaceful English settlement, slaying, scalping, and Burning up men, 
 women, and children—with other Horrors and Outrages not to be 
 described in decent terms—are just on a par with these black Ma¬ 
 roons. Now and again would be found among them some House¬ 
 hold Runaways, or Field Hands born into slavery on the Planta¬ 
 tions—and these were most useful in acting as spies or scouts; but 
 as a rule the Head men and Boldest Villains among the Maroons 
 were Savage Negroes, just fresh from Africa, on whom the bonds 
 of servitude had sat but for a short time, and who in the jungle 
 were as much at Home as though they were in llieir native wilds 
 again. Of great stature, of prodigious strength, amazing Agility, 
 and astounding natural cunning, these creatures were as ferocious 
 as Wild Baboons that had lived among civilized mankind just long 
 enough to learn the Art of tiring off a Gun and wielding a cutlass, 
 instead of brandishing a Tree-branch or heaving a Cocoa-nut. They 
 were without Pity; they were without knowledge that theirs was a 
 cut-throat, nay, a cannibal trade. The white man had made war on 
 them, and torn them from their Homes, where they were happy 
 enough in their Dirt and Grease, their War-paint, and their idola¬ 
 trous worship of Obeah and Bungey. ’Twas these Men-monsters 
 that we went to hunt. The Planters themselves were somewhat 
 chary of dealing with them; for the cruelties which the Maroons 
 inflicted on those who fell into their power were Awful alone to con¬ 
 template, much more so to Endure; but they were glad enough 
 when any gang of young Desperadoes of the meaner white sort— 
 which, speaking not for myself, 1 am inclined to believe the Mean¬ 
 est and most Despicable of any sort or condition of Humanity— 
 would volunteer to go on a Maroon Hunt. We were to have a 
 Handsome Recompense, whether our enterprise succeeded or failed; 
 but were likewise stimulated to increased exertion by the covenanted 
 promise of so many dollars—I forget how many now—for every 
 head of a Maroon that we brought at our saddlebows to the place 
 of Rendezvous. And so we started one summer morning, some 
 twenty strong, all young, valiant, and not overscrupulous, armed, 
 I need scarcely say, to the teeth, and mounted on the rough but 
 fleet ponies of the country. 
 
 A train of Negroes on whom we could Depend—that is, by the 
 strict application of the law of Fear, not Kindness, and who stood 
 in such Terror of us, and of our ever-ready Thongs, Halters, Pis¬ 
 tols, and Cutlasses, as scarcely to dare call their souls their own- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 141 
 
 followed us with Sumpter mules well laden with provisions, kegs 
 of drink, both of water and ardent, and additional ammunition. I 
 was full of glee at the prospects of this Foray, vowed that it was a 
 hundred times pleasanter than making out Maum Buckey’s wash 
 ing-books, and hearing her scold her laundry-wenches; and longed 
 to prove to my companions that the Prowess I had shown at twelve 
 —ay, and before that age, when I brained the Grenadier with the 
 Demijohn—had not degenerated now that I was turned sixteen, 
 and far away from my own country. So we rode and rode, who 
 but we, and dined gayly under spreading trees,, boasting of the 
 brave deeds we would do when we had tracked the black Maroon¬ 
 ing Vagabonds to their lair. At which those Negro servants upon 
 whom we could depend grinned from ear to ear, and told us in 
 their lingo that they “oped we would sav Dam black negar tief 
 out, and burn his Fader like canebrake.” “ ’Tis strange,” I 
 thought, “ that these creatures have not more compassicn for their 
 fellows whom we are hunting.” To be sure, they were mostly of 
 the Household breed, between whom and the fresh-imported 
 Negroes held to field-service there is little sympathy. It escaped 
 me to tell you that we had with us yet more powerful and Trust¬ 
 worthy auxiliaries than either our arms, our Horses, or our serv¬ 
 ants; being none other than nine couples of ferocious Blood-hounds, 
 of a breed now extinct in Jamaica, and to be found only at this 
 present moment, I believe, in the island of Cuba. These animals, 
 which were of a terrible Ferocity and exquisitely keen scent, were 
 kept specially for the purpose of hunting Maroons—such are the 
 Engines which Tyrannical Slavery is compelled to have recourse 
 to—and were purposely deprived of food beyond that necessary for 
 their bare sustenance, that they might more fully relish the Recom¬ 
 pense that awaited them when they had hunted down their prey. 
 
 Gayly we went on our Road rejoicing, now by mere bridle-paths, 
 and now plunging our hardy little steeds right through the bristling 
 underwood, when there burst upon us one of those terrible Torna¬ 
 does, or Tempests of wind and rain, so common in the Western 
 Indies. The water came down in great solid sheets, drenching us 
 to the skin in a moment; the sky was lit up for hundreds of miles 
 round by huge blasts of lurid fire; the wind tore great branches off 
 trees, and hurled them across the bows of our saddles, or battered 
 our faces with their soaked leaves or sharp prickles. The very 
 Dogs were blinded and baffled by this tremendous protest of nature, 
 and in the very midst of the storm there broke from an ambuscade 
 a band of Maroons, three times as strong as our own, who fell upon 
 
142 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 us like incarnate Demons as they were. Our hounds had found 
 their scent long before—just after dinner, indeed—and we had been 
 following it for some two hours—even now it was Reeking close 
 upon us, but we little deemed how Near. I suppose that those 
 Negro Rascals, whom we had trusted so implicitly, and on whom 
 we thought that we could depend so thoroughly, had Betrayed us. 
 This was the second time in my short Life that I had fallen into an 
 Ambuscade; and, lo, each time the “ Blacks ” had been mixed up 
 with my misadventure. 
 
 These naked Maroons cared nothing about the Storm, whose tor 
 rents ran off their well oiled carcasses like water off a Duck’s back. 
 There was a very Devil of a fight. ’Twas every one for himself, 
 and the Tempest for us all. The Runaways were well armed, and 
 besides could use their teeth and nails to better advantage than many 
 a doughty Fighting man can use his weapons, and clawed and tore 
 at us like Wild Beasts. I doubt not we should have got the worst 
 of it but that we were Mounted—and a Man on horseback is three 
 times a Footman in a Hand-to-Hand encounter; and again, that our 
 good friends the blood-hounds, that had been scared somewhat at the 
 outset, recovered their self-possession, and proceeded each to pin 
 his Maroon, and to rend him to pieces with great, deliberation. In 
 the end, that is to say, after about twenty-seven minutes’ sharp 
 tussling, Dogs, Horses, and Men were victorious; and, as we sur¬ 
 veyed the scene of our Triumph, the storm had spent its fury. The 
 black clouds cleared away as suddenly as they had darkled upon 
 us; the Golden Sun came out, and the dreadful scene was lit up in 
 Splendor. Above, indeed, it was all Beauty and Peace, for Nature 
 can not be long Angry. The trees all seemed stemmed and sprayed 
 with glistering jewels; the moisture that rose had the tints of a 
 hundred Rainbows; the long grass flashed and waved; the many 
 birds in the boughs began to sing Hymns of Thankfulness and Joy. 
 But below, ah, me! what a Dreadful scene of blood and Carnage, 
 and Demoniac revenge, there was shown! Of our band we had 
 lost three Killed; five more were badly Wounded; and there was 
 not one of us but had some Hurt of greater or lesser seriousness. 
 We had killed a many of the Maroons; and the two or three that 
 had escaped with Life, albeit most grievously gashed, were speedily 
 put out of their misery. Had we been seeking for Runaway house- 
 servants, we might have taken prisoners; but with a wild African 
 Maroon this is not serviceable. The only thing that you can do 
 with him, when you catch him, is to kill him. 
 
 The Dead Bodies of our unfortunate companions were laid across 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 143 
 
 the sumpter mule’s back; but when we came to look for our train 
 of dependable Negroes, we found that all save three had fled. These 
 did so very strongly protest their Innocence, and plead their abid¬ 
 ing by us as a proof thereof, that I felt half inclined to hold them 
 blameless. There were those among us, however, who were of a 
 far different opinion, and were for lighting a fire of branches and 
 Roasting them into confession. But there was a Scotch gentleman 
 among us by the name of Macgillicuddy, who, being of a Practical 
 turn (as most of his countrymen are, and, indeed, Edinburgh in 
 Scotland is about the most Practical town that ever I was in), 
 pointed out that we were all very Tired, and needed Refreshment 
 and Repose; that the task of Torturing Negroes gave much trouble 
 and consumed more time (“ Aiblins it’s douce wark,” quoth the 
 Scotch gentleman); that all the wood about was sopped wilh wet 
 (and a “ Dry Roast’s best,” said the Scotch Gentleman); and finally, 
 that the thing could be much better done at home, where we had 
 proper Engines and Instruments for inflicting Exquisite Agony, and 
 proper Slaves to administer the same. So that for the nonce, and 
 for our own Convenience, we were Merciful, and promised to defer 
 making necessary Inquisition, by means of Cowhide, Tamarind 
 bush, and Fire-cane, until our return to the Rendezvous. 
 
 I should tell you 1 hat I got a Hurt in my hand from a kind of 
 short Chopper or Tommyhawk that one of the Savages carried. 
 ’Twas fortunately my left hand, and seeming but a mere scratch, I 
 thought little or nothing about it. But at the end of the second 
 day it began to swell and swell to a most alarming size and tumor¬ 
 ous discoloration, the inflammation extending right up my arm, 
 even to my shoulder. Then it was agreed on all sides that the 
 blade of the Tommyhawk with which I had been stricken must 
 have been anointed with some subtle and deadly Poison, of which 
 not only the Maroons but the common Household and Town Negroes 
 have many, preparing them themselves, and obstinately refusing, 
 whether by hope of Reward or fear of punishment, to reveal the 
 secret of their components to the Whites. I had to rest at the nearest 
 Plantation to our battle-field; and the Planter—who had been a cap¬ 
 tain in the Chevalier de St. George’s service (the old one), that had 
 come out here, after the troubles of 1715, a Banished man, but had 
 since been Pardoned, and had taken to Planting, and grown Rich— 
 was kind enough to permit me to be taken into his house and laid in 
 one of his own Guest-chambers, where I was not only tended by his 
 own Domestics, but was sometimes favored with the attention and 
 sympathy of his angelic Wife, a young woman of most charming 
 
144 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 countenance and lively manners, most cheerful, pious, and Humane, 
 taking great care of her slaves, physicking them frequently, reading 
 to them little paper books written by persons of the Nonconforming 
 persuasion—a kind of doctrine that I never could abide—and never 
 suffering them to be whipped upon a Sunday. However, I grew 
 worse; whereupon one Mr. Sprague, that set up for surgeon, but 
 was more like a Boatswain turned Landsman than that, or than a 
 Horse, came to me, and was for cutting off my arm, to prevent 
 mortification. There w r ere two obstacles in the way of this opera¬ 
 tion’s performance; the first being that Mr. Sprague had no proper 
 instruments by him beyond a fleam and a syringe, with which, and 
 with however good a will, you can scarcely sever a Man’s limb 
 from his Body; and the next, that Mr. Sprague was not sober. 
 Love for a young widow had driven him to drinking, it was said; 
 but 1 think it was more the Love of Liquor to which his bibulous 
 backslidings were owing. ’Twas lucky for me that he had nor 
 saw nor tourniquet with him. It is true that he departed in quest 
 of some Carpenter’s Tools, which he declared would do the job 
 quite well; but, again to my good luck, the carpenter was as Rare 
 a pottlepot as he, and they two took to boiling rum in a calabash, 
 and drinking of it, and smoking of TobaccQ, and playing at Skim¬ 
 ming Dish Hob, Spie the Market, Sliove-halfpenny, Brag, Put, and 
 Dilly Dally, and other games that reminded them of the old country, 
 for days and nights together; so that the old Negro woman that be¬ 
 longed to the carpenter, seeing them gambling and drinking in the 
 morning just as she had left them drinking and gambling the over¬ 
 night, stared with amazement like a Mouse in a Throwster’s mill. 
 And by the time they had finished their Rouse I was-, through 
 Heaven’s kindness and the sagacity of a Negro nurse named Cub- 
 jack, cured. This woman, it is probable, knew the secret of the 
 Poison from the bitter effects of which I was suffering. At all 
 events, she took me in hand, and by warm fomentations and bath¬ 
 ings, and some outward applications of herbs and anointed band¬ 
 ages, reduced the swelling and restored my hand to its proper Form 
 and Hue. At the end of the w^eek I was quite cured, and able to 
 resume my journey back to Kingston. I did not fail to express my 
 gratitude to the hospitable Planter and his Lady, and I gave the 
 Nurse Cubjack half a dollar and a silver tobacco-stopper that had 
 been presented to me by Maum Buckey. 
 
 As a perverse destiny would have it, this Tobacco-stopper, this 
 harmless trinket, was the very means of my losing my situation, 
 and parting in anger from my Pumpkin-faced Patroness. Although 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 145 
 
 I was, even at the present dating, but a raw lad, she took it into 
 her head to be jealous of me, and all about this silver pipe-stopper. 
 She vowed I had given it away to some Quadroon lass up country; 
 she would not hearken to my protests of having bestowed it upon 
 the nurse who had saved my life; and indeed, when, at my in¬ 
 stance, inquiries were made, Cubjack’s replies did not in any way 
 bear out my statement. The unhappy creature, who had probably 
 sold my Tobacco-stopper for a few joes, or been deluded out of it 
 by the Obeah Man, and was afraid of a flogging if discovery were 
 made thereof, positively denied that I had given her anything be¬ 
 yond the half-dollar. You see that these Negroes have no more 
 idea of the pernicious quality of the Sin of Lying than has a white 
 European shop-keeper deluding a Lady into buying of a lustring or 
 a paduasoy; and see what similar vices there are engendered among 
 savages and Christian folks by opposite causes. 
 
 We had a fearful war of words together, Maum Buckey and my¬ 
 self. She was a bitter woman when vexed, and called me “ beggar 
 buckra,” “poor white trash,” “tarn lily thief,” and the like. 
 Whereat I told her plainly that I had no liking for her lackered 
 countenance, and that she was a mahogany-colored, slave-driving 
 old curmudgeon, that in England would be shown about at the 
 fairs for a penny a peep. At the which she screamed with rage, 
 and threw at me a jug of sangaree. Heavy enough it was; but the 
 old lady had not so good an Aim as I had when I brained the 
 Grenadier with the demijohn. 
 
 We had little converse after that. There were some wages due, 
 and these she paid me, telling me that I might “ go to de Debbil,” 
 and that i'f she ever saw me again she hoped it would be to see me 
 hanged. I could have got Employment, I doubt not, in Jamaica, 
 or in some other of the islands; but I was for the time sick of the 
 Western Indies, and was resolved, come what might, to tempt my 
 fortune in Europe. A desire to return to England first came over 
 me; nor am I ashamed to confess that, mingled with my wish to 
 see my own country once more, was a Hope that I might meet the 
 Traitorous Villain Hopwood, and tell him to his teeth what a false 
 Deceiver I took him to be. You see how bold a lad can be when 
 he has turned the corner of sixteen; but ’twas always so with John 
 Dangerous. 
 
 Some difficulty, nay, considerable obstacles, I encountered in 
 obtaining a ship to carry me to Europe. The vindictive yellow 
 woman, with whom (through no fault of my own, I declare) I was 
 in disfavor, did so pursue me with her Animosity as to prejudice 
 
146 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 one Sea Captain after another against me; and it was long ere any 
 would consent to treat with me, even as a Passenger. To those of 
 my own nation did she in particular speak against me with such 
 virulence, that in sheer despite I abandoned for the time my intention 
 of going to England, and determined upon making for some other 
 part of Europe, where I might push my fortune. And there being 
 in port early in the winter a Holland ship, named the “ Gebruder, ” 
 which was bound for Ostend, 1 struck a bargain with the skipper of 
 her, a decent man, whose name was Van Pjerboom, and prepared 
 to leave the colony, in which I had passed over four years of my 
 Eventful Life. Some friends who took an interest in me—the 
 “ bright English lad,” as Ihey called me—and who thought I had 
 been treated by Maum Buckey with some unnecessary degree of 
 Harshness, made up a purse of money for me, by which I was en¬ 
 abled to pay my Passage Money in advance, and lay in a slock of 
 Provisions for the voyage; for, save in the way of Schnapps, 
 Cheeses, and Herrings, the Holland ships were at that time but in- 
 dilferently well Found. When everything was paid I found that I 
 had indeed but a very small Surplus remaining; but there was no 
 other way, and I bade adieu to the Island of Jamaica, as I thought, 
 forever. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWELFTH. 
 
 OP WHAT BEFELL ME IN THE LOW COUNTRIES. 
 
 I landed, after a long and tedious voyage, at Ihe Town of Os¬ 
 tend, it being the Spring time of the year 1729, with Youth, Health, 
 a strong Frame, and a comely Countenance (as they told me), in¬ 
 deed, but with just two Guineas in my pouch for all my Fortune. 
 Many a Lord Mayor of London has begun the World, ’tis said, 
 with a yet more slender Provision (I wonder what Harpy Hopwood 
 had to begin with) and Eighteenpence would seem to be the average 
 of Capital Stock for an Adventurer that is to heap up Riches. 
 Still I seemed to have made my Start in Life’s Voyage a great many 
 times, and to have been very near ending with more than once— 
 witness the Aylesbury Assizes. Thus I felt rather Despondency 
 than Hope at being come almost to manhood, and but to a beggarly 
 Estate of Two-and-forty shillings. “ But,” said I, “ courage, Jack 
 Dangerous; thou hast strong legs and valorous Stomach; at least 
 thou needst not starve (bar cutpurses) for two-and-forty days; thou 
 hast a knowledge of the French tongue ” (which I picked up from 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 147 
 
 a Huguenot emigrant from Languedoc, who was a Barber at Kings¬ 
 ton, and taught me for well-nigh nothing), “and art cunning of 
 Fence. Be the world thine Oyster, as the Play-actor has it, and 
 e’en open it with thy Spadapoint.” In this not unwholesome 
 frame of mind I came out of the ship “ Gebriider,” and set foot on 
 the Port with something like a Defiance of Fortune’s scurvy tricks 
 fermenting within me. 
 
 The Ship-master recommended me to a very cleanly Tavern, by 
 the sign of the Red Goose, kept in the Ganz-Straet, by a widow 
 woman named Giessens. ’Twas Goose here, Goose there, and 
 Goose everywhere, so it seemed with this good Frau; for she served 
 Schiedam at the sign of the Goose, and she lived in Goose Street. 
 She had herself a long neck and a round body and flat feet, going' 
 waddling and hissing about the house, a-scolding of her maids, like 
 any Michaelmas matron among the stubble; not to forget her chil¬ 
 dren, of whom she had a flock, waddling and hissing in their little 
 way, too, and who were all as like goslings as Sherris is like Sack. 
 Little would have lacked- for her to give me hot roast goose to my 
 dinner, and goose-pie for supper, and some unguent of goose-grease 
 to anoint my Pate withal, had it chanced to be broken; and truly 
 if I had lived under the sign of the Goose for many days, I might 
 have taken to waddling and and hissing, too, in my own Genera¬ 
 tion, and have been in time as brave a goose as any of them. Here 
 there was a civil enough company of Sea-faring men, Mates, Pilots, 
 Supercargoes, and the like, with some Holland traders, and, if I 
 mistake not, a few Smugglers that had contraband dealings in 
 Cambrics^ Steenkirks, Strong waters, and Point of Bruxelles. These 
 last worthies did I carefully avoid; for since my Boyish Mischances 
 Iliad imbibed a wholesome fear of hurting the King’s Revenue, or 
 meddling in any way with his Prerogative “Well out of it, Jack 
 Dangerous,” I said. “ Touch not His Majesty’s Deer, nor His 
 Majesty’s Customs, and there shall be no sense of a tickling in thy 
 windpipe when thou passest a post that is like unto the sign of the 
 Tyburn Tavern.” ’Tis astonishing how gingerly a man will walk 
 who has once been within an ace of dancing upon nothing. 
 
 There is a mighty quantity of Sand and good store of Mud at 
 Ostend, and a very comforting smell of fish; and so the High 
 Dutch gentry, who, poor souls, know very little about the sea, and 
 see no more salt water from Life’s beginning unto its end than is 
 contained within the compass of a pickling-tub, do use the place 
 much for Bathing, and brag about their Dips and Flounderings, 
 crying out, Die Zee ist mein Lust, in their plat Deutscli, as though 
 
148 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 they had all been born so many Porpoises. I would walk upon a 
 morning much upon the Ramping-Parts, or Fortifications of the 
 Town, watching whole caravans of Bathers, both of High and Low 
 Dutch Gentry, coming to be dipped, borne into the Sea by sturdy 
 Fellows that carried them like so many Sacks of Coals, and who 
 would Discharge them into shallows with little more Ceremony 
 than they would use in shooting such a Cargo of Fuel into a cellar. 
 * 1 When my Money is gone, ’ ’ thought I,. “ I may earn a crust by 
 the like labor. ” But then I bethought me that I was a Stranger 
 among them; that they might be Jealous of me; and indeed, when 
 I imparted my design to the Widow-woman Giessens, who was be¬ 
 holden to me, she said, for that I had warned her how poor a guest 
 I was growing, she told me that much interest was needed to obtain 
 one of these Bather’s places—almost as much, forsooth, as is wanted 
 to get the berth of a Tide-waiter in England, and these rascals were 
 always waiting for the tide. Something like a Patent had to be 
 humbly sued for, and fat fees paid to Syndics and Burgomasters, 
 for the fine Privilege of sousing the gentry in the Brine. The good 
 woman offered me Credit till I should find employment, and did so 
 vehemently press a couple of Guilders upon me to defray my present 
 charges, that I had not the heart to refuse, although I took care to 
 avise her that my prospects of being able to repay her were as far 
 off as the Cape of Good Hope. 
 
 It chanced one morning that I was walking out of the Town, by 
 the side of the Sea below the fortified parts to the Norrard. ’Twas 
 fine and calm enough, and there was not so much Swell as to take 
 a Puppy off his swimming legs; but suddenly I heard a great Out¬ 
 cry and Hubbub, and perceived some ten feet from me in the 
 Water, the head of a Man convulsed with Terror, and who was 
 crying out with all his might that he was Di owning, that he should 
 never see his dear Mamma again, and that all his Estate would go 
 to the Heir-at-Law, whom, as well as he could, for screeching and 
 spluttering, he Cursed heartily in the English tongue. I wondered 
 how he could be in such a Pother, seeing that he was so close to 
 shore, and that moreover there were those nigh unto him who 
 could have helped him if they had a Mind to it. Close upon him 
 was a Fat gentleman in a clergyman’s cassock and a prodigious 
 Fluster, who kept crying out, “ Save him! Save him!” but budged 
 not a foot to come to his assistance himself; and, but a dozen yards 
 or so, was a Flemish Fellow, one of the Bathers, who, so far as I 
 could make out from his shaking his head and crying out, “ nicht ” 
 and “ Geld ”—the rest of his lingo was Greek to me—did refuse to 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 149 
 
 save the Gentleman unless he had more Money given him. For 
 these Bathing-men were a most Mercenary Pack. In a much shorter 
 time than it has taken me to put this on Paper I had off coat and 
 vest, kicked off my shoes, and struck into the water. ’Twas of the 
 shallowest, and I had but to wade toward him who struggled. 
 When I came anigli him he must even catch hold of me, clinging 
 like Grim Death or a Barnacle to the bottom of a Barge, very nearly 
 Dragging me down. But I was happily strong; and so, giving him 
 with mjr disengaged arm a sound Cuff under the ear, the better to 
 Preserve his Life, I seized him by the waist with the other, and so 
 dragged him up high, if not dry, unto the Sandy Shore. And a 
 pretty sight he looked there, dripping and Shivering, all hough the 
 Sun shone Brightly, and he well-nigh Blue with Fright. 
 
 What do you think the first words were that my Gentleman ut¬ 
 tered so soon as he had got his tongue clear of Salt and Seaweed? 
 
 “ You villain!” he cries to me, “you have assaulted me. Take 
 witness, Gentlemen, he hath stricken me under the Ear. I will 
 have him in the King’s Bench for Battery. Mr. Hodge, you saw 
 it; and you leave me this day week for allowing your Patron to be 
 within an inch of Drowning. ” 
 
 I was always of a Hot Temper, and this cavalier treatment of me 
 after my Services threw me into a Rage. 
 
 “ Why, you little half-boiled Shrimp,” I bawled out, “ I have a 
 mind to clout you under t’other Ear, that Brothers may not com¬ 
 plain of Favor, and e’en carry you to where I found you.” 
 
 The Gentleman in the cassock began to break out in excuses, 
 saying that his Patron would reward me, and that he was glad that 
 an Englishman had been by to rescue a Person of Quality from 
 such great Peril, when that Flanders Oaf yonder—Ihe extortionate 
 villain—would not stir a finger to help him unless he had half a 
 guilder over and above his fee. 
 
 “ Let him dry and dress himself,I said, in Dudgeon; “and if 
 he be not civil to a Countryman, who is as good as he, I will kick 
 him back to his Inn, and you, too.” 
 
 “ A desperate youth!” murmured the Clergyman, as he handed 
 his Patron a great bundle of towels; “ and very meanly clad.” 
 
 I walked away a few paces while the gentleman dried and dressed 
 himself. Had I obeyed the Promptings of Pride, I should have 
 gone on my ways and left him to liis likings; but I was exceeding 
 Poor, and thought it Foolish to throw away the chance of receiving 
 what his Generosity might bestow upon me. The Bathing-Man, 
 who had been already paid his Fee, had the impudence 1o come up 
 
150 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 and ask for more “ Geld ” for minding the gentleman’s clothes, 
 as I gathered from the speech of the clergyman, who understood 
 Flemish. He was, however, indignantly refused, and, not relish¬ 
 ing, perchance, the likelihood of a scuffle with three Englishmen, 
 straightway decamped. 
 
 By and by the Gentleman was dressed, and a very smart appear¬ 
 ance he made in a blue shag frock laced with silver, a yellow waist¬ 
 coat bound with black velvet, green paduasoy breeches, red stock¬ 
 ings, gold buckles, an ivory hilt to his sword, and a white feather 
 in his hat. I have no mind to write out Tailors’ accompts, but I 
 do declare this to be the exact Schedule of his. Equipment. Under 
 the hat, which had a kind of Sunday Marylabonne cock to it, there 
 bulged out a mighty White Periwig of fleecy curls, for all the world 
 like a coat of a Bologna Poodle Dog, and in the middle of his Wig 
 there peeped out a little hatchet face, with lantern jaws, and blue 
 gills, and a pair of great black eyebrows, under which glistened a 
 pair of inflamed eyes. He was not above five feet three inches, and 
 his fingers, very long and skinny, went to and fro under his Point 
 ruffles like a Lobster’s Feelers. The Chaplain, who waited upon 
 him as a Maid would on a lardy-dardy woman of Fashion, handed 
 my Gentleman a very tall stick with a golden knob at the end on it, 
 and with this, and a laced handkerchief and a long cravat, which 
 he had likely bought at Mechlin, and a Snuff-box in the lean little 
 Paw that held not the cane, he looked for all the world like one of 
 my Grandmother’s Footmen who had run away and turned Dancing 
 Master. 
 
 “ This, young man,” said the Chaplain, making a low bow as he 
 spoke to the comical Image before him, “ is Bartholomew Pinchin, 
 Esquire, of Hampstead. Make your reverence, sirrah!” 
 
 “Make a reverence to a Rag-doll!” I answered, with a sneer. 
 “ He hath left his twin brother beyond sea. I know him, and lie is 
 a Barbary Ape.” 
 
 “ The rogue is insolent,” saysB. Pinchin, Esq., clutching tighter 
 at his tall cane, but turning very white the while. “ I must batoon 
 him into better manners.” 
 
 “ What!” 1 cried in a great voice, making a step toward him, for 
 my blood was up. I would but have tweaked the little creature’s 
 Ears; but he, for a surety, thought I had a mind to Murder him. I 
 do aver that he fell upon his knees, and with most piteous Accents 
 and Protestations entreated me, for the sake of his Mamma, to spare 
 his life, and he would give me all I asked. 
 
 I was quite bewildered, and turning toward the Parson, asked if 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 151 
 
 his master was Mad; to which he made answer, with some Heat, 
 that he was no Master of his, but his Honored Friend and Gracious 
 Patron; whereupon the little Spark must go up to him, whimper¬ 
 ing and cuddling about him, and beseeching him to save him from 
 the Tall Rogue, meaning me. 
 
 “Body o’ me, man,” I exclaimed, scarcely able to keep from 
 laughing, “ I mean you no harm. I am a young Englishman, lately 
 come from the Plantations, and seeking employment. I see you 
 struggling yonder and like to give up the ghost, and I pull you out; 
 and then you call me Rogue and charge me with striking of you. 
 Was it cramp or cowardice that made you bawl so? Give me 
 something to drink better manners to you, and I will leave you and 
 this reverend gentleman alone.” 
 
 The Parson bowed his head with a pleased look when I called 
 him Reverend and a Gentleman, and, in an under-tone, told his 
 Patron that I was a civilly behaved youth, after all. But the Pol¬ 
 troon with the white wig was not out of his Pother yet. He had 
 risen to his feet with a patch of sand on each knee, and as the 
 Chaplain wiped it off with a kerchief, he blubbered out that I 
 wanted to rob him. 
 
 The Clergyman whispered in his ear—perhaps that I was a 
 Dangerous-looking Fellow, and might lose my temper anon to some 
 tune; for my Whippet-snapper approaches me, and, in a manner 
 Civil enough, tells me that he is much obliged for what I had done 
 for him. “ And you will take this,” says he. I will be shot if he 
 did not give me an English Groat. 
 
 “You can readily get English coin changed in the town,” he 
 observed with a smirk, as in sheer bewilderment I gazed upon this 
 paltry doit. 
 
 I was desperately minded to Fling it at him, knock him and the 
 Chaplain down, and leave the precious pair to pick themselves up 
 again; but I forbore. “ Well,” I said, “if that’s the value you 
 put upon your life, I can’t grumble at your Guerdon. I suppose 
 that shriveled little carcass of yours isn’t worth more than four- 
 pence. I’ll e’en change it in town, and buy fourpennyworth of 
 Dutch cheese, and you shall have the paring for nothing to send to 
 your Mamma as a gift from foreign parts. Good-morning to you, 
 my noble Captain. ” And so saying I walked away in a Fume of 
 Wrath and Contempt. 
 
 I was idling, that same afternoon, along the Main Street of Os- 
 tend, very much in the Dumps, and thinking of going down to the 
 Port to seek a cook’s place from some Ship-master, for I was not 
 
152 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 yet Qualified to engage as an Able-bodied Mariner, when I met the 
 Chaplain again, this time alone, and coming out of a pastryman’s 
 shop. I would have passed him, as holding both him and his 
 master in Disdain, but he arrested me, and beckoned me into au 
 Entry, there to have some Speech. 
 
 “ My patron is somewhat quick and hasty, and was uncommonly 
 flustered by his mischance this morning,” quoth the Rev. Mr. 
 Hodge. “ Nor perhaps did he use you as liberally as he should 
 have done. Here is a golden guilder for you, honest man.” 
 
 I thanked him, and as I pouched it told him that I would have 
 taken no Money at all for a service which every man is bound to 
 render to his Fellow-creature, bat that I was sorely pressed for 
 Money. On this, he asked my name and belongings. The name I 
 gave him, at the which he winced somewhat; but of my history I 
 did not care to enlighten him further beyond broadly stating that I 
 had come from the Plantations, where I had been used to keep Ac- 
 compts, and that I was an Orphan, and had no friends in England, 
 even if I possessed the means to return thither. 
 
 “ I think I can find you a place,” the chaplain replied, when I 
 had finished. “ ’Twill not be a very handsome one, but the work 
 is little and light. Would it meet your purpose, now, to attend on 
 a gentleman?” 
 
 “ It depends,” I replied, “ on what kind of a Gentleman he is.” 
 
 “A gentleman of landed Estate,” quoth the parson, quite pat. 
 “ An English gentleman, now traveling for his Diversion, but will, 
 in good time, settle down in England, to live on his Acres in a 
 Handsome manner, and be a justice of peace and of the Quorum.” 
 
 “ Do you mean your Squire of Hampstead, yonder?” I answered, 
 pointing my thumb over my shoulder, as though in the direction 
 where I had met his Reverence and his Patron that morning. 
 
 “ I do, ” responds Mr. Hodge. 
 
 “ Bartholomew Pinchin, of Hampstead, Esquire, eh?” I con¬ 
 tinued. 
 
 “ Exactly so.” 
 
 “ Then,” I went on, raising my voice, and giving a furious glance 
 at my companion, “ I’ll see Bartholomew Pinchin boiled, and I’ll 
 see Bartholomew Pinchin baked, and his Esquireship to boot, before 
 I’ll be his servant. He, a mean, skulking, pinchbeck hound. Tell 
 him I’m meat for his master, and that he has no service, body or 
 lip, of mine.” 
 
 “Tut, tut, you foolish lad,” said Mr. Hodge, not in the least 
 offended. “ What a wild young colt it is, and how impatient! For 
 
captain: dangerous. 
 
 153 
 
 all your strapping figure now, I doubt whether you are twenty years 
 of age. ’ ’ 
 
 I answered with something like a Blush, that I was not yet 
 seventeen. 
 
 “ There it is—there it is," the Chaplain took me, chuckling. 
 " As I thought. A mere boy. A very lad. Not come to years of 
 -discretion yet, and never will, if he goes on raging in this manner. 
 Hearken to me, youngster. Don’t be such a fool as to throw away 
 a good chance. ’ ’ 
 
 “ I don’t see where it is," I observed, sulkily, yet sheepishly; for 
 there was a Good-natured air about the Chaplain that overcame me. 
 
 "But I do," he rejoined. "The good chance you have is of 
 getting a comfortable place, with a smart livery—’’ 
 
 " I won’t wear a livery," I cried, in a heat. " I’ll be no man’s 
 lackey; I’m a gentleman." 
 
 " So was Adam," retorted Mr. Hodge, “ and the veiy first of the 
 breed; but he had to wear a livery of fig-leaves for all that, and so 
 had his wife Eve. Come, ’tis better to don a land-jerkin, and a hat 
 with a ribbon to’t, and be a Gentleman’s Gentleman, with regular 
 Wages and Vails, and plenty of good Victuals every day, than to 
 be starving and in rags about, the streets of a Flemish town." 
 
 " I’m not starving; I’m not in rags," I protested, with my Proud 
 stomach. 
 
 ‘ ‘ But you will be the day after to-morrow. The two things 
 always go together. Come, my.young friend, I'll own that Bar¬ 
 tholomew Pinchin, Esquire, is not generous.” 
 
 " Generous!” I exclaimed; "why, he’s the meanest little hunks 
 that ever skinned a flea for the hide and fat. Didn’t he give me 
 fourpence this morning for saving his life?" 
 
 " And didn’t you tell him that his life wasn’t worth more than a 
 groat?" asked the Chaplain, with a sly grin; "besides insulting 
 him on the question of Dutch cheese (to which he has an exquisite 
 aversion), into the bargain?" 
 
 " That’s true," I replied, vanquished by the Parson’s logic. 
 
 " There, then," his Reverence went on. " Bartholomew Pinchin 
 Esquire’s more easily managed than you think for. Do you prove 
 a good servant, and it shall be my duty to make him show himself 
 a good master to you. But I must have no further parley with you 
 here, else these Papistical Ostenders will think that you are some 
 Flemish lad (for indeed you have somewhat of a foreign air), and 
 I a Lutheran Minister striving to convert you. Get you back to 
 your Inn, good youth. Pay your score, if you have one; and if 
 
154 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 you have not, e’en spend your guilder in treating of your com¬ 
 panions, and come to me at nine of the clock this evening at the 
 Inn of the Three Archduchesses. Till then, fare you well.” 
 
 It must be owned that his Reverence’s proposals were fair, and 
 that his conversation was very civil. As I watched him trotting up 
 the Main Street, his Cassock bulging out behind, I agreed with my¬ 
 self that perhaps the most prudent thing I could do just at present 
 would be to put my gentility in my pocket till better times came 
 round. There was a Spanish Don, I believe, once upon a time, 
 ■who did very nearly the same thing with his sword. 
 
 At the appointed time I duly found myself at the sign of the 
 Three Archduchesses, which was the bravest Hostelry in all Ostend, 
 and the one where all the Quality put up. I asked for Bartholomew 
 Pinchin, Esquire, in the best French that I could muster; where¬ 
 upon the drawer, who was a Fleming, and, I think, spoke even 
 worse French than I did, asked me if I meant the English Lord who 
 had the grand suite of apartments looking on the court-yard. 1 
 ■was fit to die of laughing at first to hear the trumpery little Hamp¬ 
 stead squire spoken of as a lord; but Prudence came to my aid 
 again, and I answered that such, was the personage I came to seek; 
 and, after not much delay, I was ushered into the presence of Mr. 
 Pinchin, whose Esquiredom—and proud enough he was of it—I 
 may now as well Drop. I found him in a very handsome apart¬ 
 ment, richly furnished, drinking Burgundy with his chaplain, and 
 with a pack of cards alongside the bottles, and two great wax 
 candles in sconces on either side. But, as he drank his Burgundy, 
 he ceased not to scream and whimper at the expense he was being 
 put to in having such a costly liquor at his table, and scolded Mr. 
 Hodge very sorely because he had not ordered some thin Bordeaux, 
 or light Rhine wine. “ I’m drinking guineas,” he moaned, as he 
 gulped down his Gobbets; ‘‘it’ll be the ruin of me. A dozen of 
 this is as bad as the Mortgage upon my Titmouse Farm. What’ll 
 my mamma say? I shall die in the poor-house.” But all this 
 time he kept on drinking; and it was not glass and glass about with 
 him, I promise you, for he took at least three bumpers full to his 
 Chaplain’s one, and eyed that reverend personage grudgingly as he 
 seized his opportunity, and brimmed up the generous Red Liquor 
 in his tall-stemmed glass. Yet the Chaplain seemed in no way dis¬ 
 countenanced by his scanty allowance, and I thought that, per¬ 
 chance, his Reverence liked not wine of Burgundy. 
 
 They were playing a hand of piquet when I was introduced; and 
 they being Gentlefolks, and I a poor humble Serving-Man that was 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 155 
 
 to be, I was bidden to wait, which I did very patiently in the em¬ 
 brasure of a window, admiring the great dark tapestried curtains as 
 they loomed in indistinct gorgeousness among the shadows. The 
 hand of piquet was over at last, and Mr. Pinchin found that he had 
 lost three shillings and sixpence. 
 
 “ I can’t pay it, I can’t pay it,” he said, making a most rueful 
 countenance. “ I’m eaten out of house and home, and sharped at 
 cards besides. It’s a shame for a Parson to play foul—I say foul, 
 Mr. Hodge. It’s a disgrace to the cloth to bring your wicked card- 
 cheat ing practices to devalise an English gentleman who is travel¬ 
 ing for his diversion.” 
 
 “ We’ll play the game over again, if you choose, Worthy Sir,” 
 the Chaplain answers quite quietly. 
 
 “ Yes, and then you’ll win seven shillings of me. You’ve sworn 
 to bring me to beggary and ruin. I know you swore it when my 
 mamma sent you abroad with me. Oh, why did I come to foreign 
 parts with a wicked, guzzling, gambling, chambering Chaplain, 
 that’s in league with the very host and the drawers of this thieving 
 inn against me—iliat burns me a guinea a night in wax-candles, 
 and has had a freehold farm out of me in Burgundy wine.” 
 
 “I’ve had but two glasses the entire evening,” the Chaplain 
 pleaded, in a voice truly that was meek; but I thought that, even 
 at the distance I stood from him. I could see the color rising in his 
 cheek. 
 
 “ Oh, you have, you have,” went on Squire Bartholomew, who, 
 if not half Mad, was certainly more than three parts Muzzy; 
 “ you’ve ruined me, Mr. Hodge, with your cards and your candles 
 and your Burgundy, and Goodness only knows what else besides.” 
 
 The Chaplain could stand it no longer, and rose in a Bage. 
 
 “ I wish all the candles and the cards were down your throat,” 
 he cried, “ nearly all the wine is there already. I wish they’d 
 choke you. I wish they were all in the pit of your stomach, and 
 turned to hot burning coals. What shall I do with you, you ca¬ 
 daverous little jackanapes? The Lout did well this morning—” (I 
 was the Lout, by your leave) “ to—to liken thee to one, for thou art 
 more monkey than man. But for fear of staining my cassock, 
 I’d—I’d—” ’ 
 
 He advanced toward him with a vengefid air, clinching his list, 
 as well as I could see, as he approached. Surely there never was 
 such a comical character as this Bartholomew Pinchin. ’Tis the 
 bare truth, that, as the enraged parson came at him, this Gentleman 
 of broad acres drops down again on his marrow-bones, just as I had 
 
156 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 seen him on the sands in the morning; and lifting up his little 
 skinny hands toward the ceiling, begins yelling and bawling out 
 louder than ever. 
 
 “Spare my life! spare my life!” he cried. “Take my watch 
 and trinkets. Take my Gold Medal of the Pearl of Bruns¬ 
 wick Club. Take the diamond solitaire I wear in my great 
 Steenkirk on Sundays. Go to my Banker’s, and draw every penny 
 I’ve got in the world. Turn me out a naked, naked Pauper; but 
 oh, Mr. Hodge, spare my life. I’m young. I’ve been a sinner. I 
 want to give a hundred Pounds to Lady Wackerbarth’s charity 
 school. I want to do everybody good. Take my gold, but spare 
 my life. Oh, you tall young man in the corner there, come and 
 help an English gentleman out of the hands of a murtherous Chap¬ 
 lain. ’ ’ 
 
 “Why, you craven cur, you,” puts in the Chaplain, bending 
 over him with half-poised fist, yet with a kind of half-amusement 
 in his features, “ don’t you know that the Tall young Man, as you 
 call him, is the poor English lad who saved your worthless little 
 carcass from drowning this morning, and whom you offered to 
 recompense with a Scurvy Groat?” 
 
 “ I’l give him forty pound, I will,” blubbered Mr. Pinchin, still 
 on his knees. “ I’ll give him fifty pounds when my Midsummer 
 rents come in, only let him rescue me from the jaws of the roaring 
 lion. Oh, my Mamma! my Mamma!” 
 
 “ Come forward, then, young man,” cried the Chaplain, with a 
 smile of disdain on his good-humored countenance, “ and help this 
 worthy and courageous gentleman to his legs. Don’t be afraid. 
 Squire Barty. He won’t murder you.” 
 
 I advanced in obedience to the summons, and putting a hand 
 under either armpit of the squire, helped him on to his feet. Then, 
 at a nod of approval, I set him in the great arm-chair of Utrecht 
 velvet. Then I pointed to the bottle on the table, and looked at 
 Mr. Hodge, as though to ask whether he thought a glass of Bur¬ 
 gundy would do the patient good. 
 
 “ No,” said the Chaplain. “ He’s had enough Burgundy. He’d 
 better have a flask of champagne to give him some spirits. Will 
 you drink a flask of champagne, Squire?” he continued, addressing 
 his patron in a strangely authoritative voice. 
 
 “ Yes,” quoth the little man, whose periwig was all Awry, and 
 who looked, on the whole, a most doleful figure—“yes, if you 
 please, Mr. Hodge.” 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 157 
 
 “ Vastly pretty! And wlial am I to have? I think I should like 
 some Burgundy. ’ ’ 
 
 “Anything,” murmured the discomfited Squire; “only spare 
 me—” 
 
 “Tush! your life’s in no danger. We'll take good care of it. 
 And this most obliging English youth—will your Honor offer him 
 no refreshment? What is he to have?” 
 
 “ Can he drink beer?” asked the Squire, in a faint voice, and 
 averting his liead as though the having to treat me was too much 
 for him. 
 
 “ Can you drink beer?” echoed the Chaplain, looking at me, but 
 shaking his head meanwhile, as if to warn me not to consent to 
 partake of so cheap a beverage. 
 
 “It’s very cheap,” added Mr. Pinchin, very plaintively “It 
 isn’t a farthing a glass; and when you get used to it, it’s better for 
 the inwards than burned brandy. Have a glass of beer, good 
 youth. Kind Mr. Hodge, let them bring him a glass of Faro.” 
 
 “ Hang your faro! I don’t like it,” I said, bluntly. 
 
 . “ What will you have, then?” asked the Squire, with a gasp of 
 agony, and his head still buried in the chair-cushion. 
 
 It seemed that the chaplain’s lips, as he looked at me, were 
 mutely forming- the letters WINE. So I put a bold front upon 
 it, and said, 
 
 “ Why, 1 should like, master, to drink your health in a bumper 
 of right Burgundy, with this good Gentleman here.” 
 
 “ He will have Burgundy,” whimpered Mr. Pinchin, half to the 
 chair-cushion, and half to his periwig. “ He will have Burgundy. 
 The ragged, tall young man will have Burgundy at eight livres ten 
 sols the flask. Oh, let him have it, and let me die! for he and the 
 Parson have sworn to my Mamma to murder me and have my 
 blood, and leave me among Smugglers, and Papistry, and Landlords 
 who have sworn to ruin me in waxen candles.” 
 
 There was something at once so ludicrous, and yet so Pathetic, 
 in the little man’s lamentations, that I scarcely knew whether to 
 laugh or to cry. His feelings seemed so very acute, and he himself 
 so perfectly sincere in his moanings and groanings, that it were al¬ 
 most Barbarity to jeer at him. The Chaplain, however, was, to all 
 appearance, accustomed to these little Comedies; for, whispering 
 to me that it was all Mr. Pinchin’s manner, and that the young Gen¬ 
 tleman meant no harm, he bade me bestir myself and hurry up the 
 servants of the House to serve supper. So not only were the cham - 
 pagne and the Burgundy put on table—and of the which there was 
 
158 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 put behind a screen a demiflask of the same true vintage for my 
 own private drinking—(“ And the Squire will be pleased, when he 
 comes to Audit the score, to find that you have been content with 
 Half a bottle. ’Twill seem like something saved out of the Fire,” 
 whispers the Chaplain to me, as I helped to lay the cloth)—not only 
 were Strong Waters and sweet Liquors and cordials provided, 
 especially that renowned stomachic the Maraschino, of which the 
 Hollanders and Flemings are so outrageously fond, and which is 
 made to such perfection in the Batavian settlements in Asia, but a 
 substantial Repast likewise made its appearance, comprising Fowl, 
 both wild and tame, and hot and cold, a mighty pasty of veal and 
 eggs baked in a Standing Crust, some curious fresh sallets, and one 
 of potatoes and salted herrings flavored with garlic—to me most vil¬ 
 lainously nasty, but much affected in these amphibious Low Coun¬ 
 tries. So, the little Squire being brought to with a copious draught 
 of champagne—and he was the most weazened little Bacchus I ever 
 knew, moistening his ever-dry throttle from morning until night— 
 he and the chaplain sat down to supper, and remained feasting 
 until long past midnight. So far as the Parson’s part went, it might 
 have been called a Carouse as well as a Feast, for his Reverence 
 took his Liquor, and plenty of it, with a joviality of Contentment 
 which it would have done your Heart good to see, drinking “ Church 
 and King,” and then “ King and Church,” so that neither Institu¬ 
 tion should have cause to grumble, and then giving the Army, the 
 Navy, the Courts of Quarter Sessions throughout England, New¬ 
 market and the horses, not forgetting the Jockeys, the pious mem¬ 
 ory of Dr. Sacheverell, at which the Squire winced somewhat, for 
 he was a bitter Whig, with many other elegant and appropriate 
 sentiments. In fact, it was easy to see that his reverence had 
 known the very best of company; and when at one of the clock he 
 called for a Bowl of Punch, which he had taught the Woman of 
 the House very well how to brew, I put him down as one who had 
 sate with Lords—ay, and of the Council too, over their Potations. 
 But the Behavior of Bartholomew Pinchin, Esq., was, from the 
 beginning unto the end of the Regale, of a piece with his former 
 extraordinary and Grotesque conduct. After the champagne, he 
 essayed to sing a song to the tune of “ Cold and Raw,” but failing 
 therein, he began to cry. Then did he accuse me of having secreted 
 the Liver-Wing of a Capon, which, I declare, I had seen him de¬ 
 vour not Five Minutes before. Then he had more Drink, and 
 proposed successively as Toasts his Cousin Lady Betty Heeltap, 
 daughter to my Lord Poddle; a certain Madame Van Foorst, whom 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 159 
 
 1 afterward discovered to be the keeper of a dancing Ridotto on the 
 Port at Antwerp; then the Jung-frau, or serving wench, that waited 
 upon us, who had for name Babette; and lastly his Mamma, whom 
 ten minutes afterward, he began to load with Abuse, declaring that 
 she wished to have her Barty shut up in a mad-house, in order that 
 she might enjoy his Lands and Revenues, And then he fell to 
 computing the cost of the supper, swearing that it would Ruin him, 
 and making his old complaints about those eternal wax candles. 
 Then, espying me out, he asks who I am, challenges me to fight 
 with him for a Crown, vows that he will delate me to the English 
 Resident at Brussels for a Jacobite spy, tells me that I am an Honest 
 Fellow, and, next to Mr. Hodge, the best friend he ever had in the 
 world, and falls down at last stupefied. Whereupon, with the as¬ 
 sistance of the Flemish Drawer, I carried my new master up to bed. 
 
 CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH. 
 
 I MAKE THE GRAND TOUR, AND ACQUIRE SOME KNOWLEDGE OF 
 
 THE POLITE WORLD. 
 
 For I had decided that he was to be my Master. “ I can bear 
 with his strange ways,” I said to myself. “John Dangerous has 
 seen stranger, young as he is; and it will go hard if this droll creat¬ 
 ure does not furnish forth some sport, ay and some Profit too be¬ 
 fore long.” For now that I had put my Gentility in my pocket, I 
 began to remember that Hay is a very pleasant and toothsome thing 
 for Fodder, to say nothing of its having a most pleasant odor, and 
 that the best time to make hay was while the sun did shine. 
 
 After I had assisted in conveying the Little Man to bed, I came 
 down to the Saloon, finding there Mr. Hodge, who was comforting 
 himself with a last bumper of punch before seeking bed. 
 
 “Well, Youth,” he accosts me, “have you thought better of 
 your surly, huffing manner of this moraine: and this afternoon?” 
 
 I told him that I had, and that I desired nothing better than to 
 enter forthwith into the service of Bartholomew Pincliin, Esquire, 
 of Hampstead. 
 
 “That’s well,” says his Reverence, nodding at me over his 
 punch. “ You’ve had your supper behind yon screen, haven’t you?” 
 
 I answered, “ Yes, and my Burgundy likewise.” 
 
 “ That you mustn’t expect every day,” he continues, “ but only 
 on extraordinary occasions such as that of to-night. What the liv- 
 
100 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 ing is like, you have seen. The best of fish, flesh, and fowl, and 
 plenty of it. As to your Clothes and your Wages, we will hold dis 
 course of that in the morning; for ’twill take your Master half the 
 morning to heat you down a penny a Month, and quarrel with a 
 Tailor about the cheapest kind of serge for your Livery. Leave it 
 to me, however, and I’ll engage that you have no reason to com¬ 
 plain either of one or the other. What did you say your name 
 was, friend ? As for Recommendations, you have none to Give, and 
 I seek not any from you. I will be content to take your character 
 from your Face and Speech. ’ ’ 
 
 I began to stammer and bow and thank his Honor’s Reverence 
 for his good opinion. 
 
 “Don’t thank me before you’re asked,’’answers Mr. Hodge, 
 with a grin. ' ‘ The academy of compliments is not held here. By 
 your speech you have given every sign of being a very Saucy Fel¬ 
 low, and, to judge from your face, you have all the elements in 
 you of a complete Scoundrel.” 
 
 I bowed, and was silent. 
 
 “ But your name,” he pursued, “ that has escaped me.” . 
 
 I answered Respectfully, that I had used to be called John Dan¬ 
 gerous. 
 
 “ Tut, tut!” Mr. Hodge cried out hastily. “ Fie upon the name! 
 John is all very well; but Dangerous will never do. Why, our 
 Patron would think directly he heard it that } r ou were bent on cut¬ 
 ting his throat, or running away with his valise.” 
 
 I submitted, again with much respect, that it was the only name 
 I had. 
 
 “Well, thou art a straightforward youth,”-said the Chaplain 
 good-humoredly, “ and I will not press thee to take up an alias. 
 John will serve excellently well for the present; and if more be 
 wanted, thou shalt be John D. But understand that the name of 
 Dangerous is to remain a secret between me and thee and tfie Post.” 
 
 “ With all my heart,” I cried, “ so long as the Post be not a gal¬ 
 lows.” 
 
 “Well said, John D.,” murmured Mr. Hodge, upon whom by 
 this time the punch had taken some little effect. “A good Lad, 
 John. And now thou mayst help me up to bed. ’ ’ 
 
 And so I did, for his Reverence had begun to stagger. Then a 
 pallet was found for me high up in the Roof of the Inn of the 
 Three Archduchesses. I forbore to grumble, for I had been used 
 from my first going out into the world to Hard Lodging. And that 
 
CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 161 
 
 night I slept very soundly, and dreamed that I was in the Great 
 Four-post Bed at my Grandmother’s in Hanover Square. 
 
 Never had a Man, I suppose, in this Mortal World, ever so droll 
 a master as this Bartholomew Pinchin, of Hampstead, Esquire. 
 ’Tis Tame, and may be Offensive, for me to be so continually telling 
 that he wrote himself down Armiger, after my Promise to forego 
 for the future such recapitulation of his Title; but Mr. Pinchin was 
 himself never tired of dubbing himself Esquire, and you could 
 scarcely be five Minutes in his company without hearing of his 
 Estate, and his mamma, and his right to bear Arms. I, who was 
 by birth a Gentleman of Long Descent, could not forbear Smiling 
 from time to time (in my Sleeve, be it understood, since I was a 
 Servant at Wages to him) at his ridiculous Assumptions. And 
 there are few things more Contempti ble, I take it, than for a Man 
 of really good Belongings, and whose Lineage is as old as Stone¬ 
 henge (albeit, for Reasons best known to Himself, he permits his 
 Pedigree to lie Perdu), 1o hear an Upstart of Yesterday Bragging 
 and Swelling that he is come from this or from that, when we, who 
 are of the true Good Stock, know very well, but that we are not so 
 ill-mannered as to say so, that he is sprung from Nothing at all. I 
 think that if the Heralds were to make their Journeys now, as of 
 Yore, among the Country Cliurch-yards, and hack out from the 
 Head-stones the sculptured cognizances of those having no manner of 
 Right to them, the Stone-Masons about Hyde Park Corner would all 
 make Fortunes from the orders that would be given to them for 
 fresh Tombs. Not a mealy-mouthed Burgess now, whose great¬ 
 grandfather sold stocking-hose to my Lord Duke of Northumber¬ 
 land, but sets himself up for a Percy; not a supercilious Cit, whose 
 Uncle married a cast-off waiting-woman from Arundel Castle, but 
 vaunts himself on his alliance with the noble house of Howard; not 
 a starveling Scrivener, whose ancestor, as the playwright has it, got 
 his Skull cracked by John of Gaunt for crowding among the 
 Marshalmen in the Tilt Yard, but must pertly Wink and Snigger, 
 and say that the Dukedom of Lancaster would not be found extinct 
 if the Right Heir chose to come Forward. Since that poor young 
 Lord of the Lakes was attainted for his part in the Troubles of the 
 ’Fifteen, and lost his head on Tower Hill (his vast Estates going to 
 Greenwich Hospital), I am given to understand that every man in 
 Cumberland or Westmoreland whose name happens to be Ratcliffe 
 (I knew the late Mr. Charles Ratcliffe, that Suffered with a red 
 Feather in his Hat, very well), must give himself out to be titular 
 
 Earl of Derwentwater, and Importune the Government to reverse 
 6 
 
CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 162 
 
 the Attainder, and restore him the Lands of which the Greenwich 
 Commissioners have gotten such a tight Hold; and as for Grand¬ 
 children of the byblows of King Charles II., good lack! to hear 
 them talk of the “ Merry Monarch,” and to see them draw up their 
 Eyebrows into the kStuart Frown, one would think that every 
 Player-Woman at the King s or the Duke’s House had been as fa¬ 
 vored in her time as Madame Eleanor Gwyn. 
 
 Thus do I no more believe that Mr. Bartholomew Pinchin was 
 cousin to Lady Betty Heeltap, or in any manner connected with the 
 family of my Lord Poddle (and he was only one of the Revolution 
 Peers, that got his coronet for Ratting at the right moment to King 
 William III.), than that he w r as the Great Mogul’s Grandmother. 
 His gentlemanly extraction was with him all a Yain Pretense and 
 silly outward show. It did no very great Harm, however. When 
 the French adventurer Poirier asked King Augustus the Strong to 
 make him a Count, what said his Majesty of Warsaw and Lune- 
 ville? ‘‘That I can not do,” quoth he; “but there is nothing 
 under the sun to prevent thee from calling thyself a Count, if the 
 humor so please thee. ” And Count Poirier, by Self-Creation, he 
 straightway became, and as Count Poirier was knouted to Death at 
 Moscow for Forging of Rubles Assignats. Pinchin was palpably a 
 Plebeian; but it suited him to be called and to call himself an Es¬ 
 quire: and who should gainsay him? At the Three Archduchesses 
 at Ostend, indeed, they had an exceeding sensible Plan regarding 
 Titles and Precedence for Strangers, which was found to answer 
 admirably well. He who took the Grand Suite, looking upon the 
 court-yard, was always held to be an English Lord. The tenant of 
 the floor above him was duly esteemed by the Drawers and Cham¬ 
 berlains to be a Count of the Holy Roman Empire; a quiet gentle¬ 
 man, who would pay a Louis a day for his charges, but was con¬ 
 tent to dine at the Public Table, was put down as a Baron or a 
 Chevalier; those who occupied the rooms running round the gal¬ 
 leries were saluted Merchants, or if they chose it, Captains; but, in 
 the gardens behind the Inn, there stood a separate Building, called 
 a Pavilion, most sumptuously appointed, and the Great Room hung 
 with the Story of Susannah and the Elders in Arras Tapestry; and 
 he who would pay enough for this Pavilion might have been hailed 
 as an Embassador Plenipotentiary, as a Duke and Peer of France, 
 or even as a Sovereign Prince traveling incognito, had he been so 
 minded. For what will not Money do? Take our English Army, 
 for instance, which is surely the Bravest and the Worst Managed in 
 the whole World. My Lord buys a pair of colors for the Yalet that 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 163 
 
 has married his leman, and forthwith Mr. Jackanapes struts for an 
 Ensign. But for his own Son and Heir my Lord will purchase a 
 whole troop of Horse; and a Beardless Boy, that a month agone 
 was Birched at Eton for flaws in his Grammar, will Vapor it about 
 on the Mall with a Queue a la Rosbach, and a Long Sword trailing 
 behind him, as a full-blown Captain of Dragoons. 
 
 I believe Pinchin’s father to have been a Tailor. There is no 
 harm in the Craft, honestly exercised; but since the world first 
 Began nine Tailors have made a Man; and you can not well see a 
 knight of the shears without asking in your own mind where he 
 has left his Eight brethren. Bartholomew Pinchin looked like a 
 Tailor, talked like a Tailor, and thought like a Tailor. Let it not, 
 however, be surmised that I have any mind to Malign the Useful 
 Churls who make our Clothes. Many a time have I been beholden 
 to the strong Faith and Generous Belief of a Tailor when I have stood 
 in need of new Apparel, and have been under momentary Famine 
 of Funds for the Payment thereof. Those who are so ready to 
 sneer at a Snip, and to cast Cabbage in his teeth, would do well to 
 remember that there are Seasons in Life when the Goose (or rather 
 he that wields it) may save, not only the Capitol, but the Soldier 
 who stands on Guard within. How doubly Agonizing is Death 
 when you are in doubt as to whence that Full suit of Black needed 
 on the Funeral Night will arrive! What a tremor comes over you 
 when you remember that this Day Week you are to be Married, and 
 that your Wedding Garment is by no means a certainty! What a 
 dreadful Shipwreck to your Fortune menaces you when you are 
 bidden to wait on a Great Man who has Places to give away, and 
 you find that your Velvet Coat shows the Cord! Tis in these 
 Emergencies that the brave Confidence of the Tailor is distilled 
 over us like the Blessed Dew from Heaven; for Trust, when it is 
 really needed, and opportunely comes, is Real Mercy and a Holy 
 Thing. 
 
 About my master’s Wealth there was no doubt. Lord Poddle, 
 although a questionable cousin of his, would have been glad to pos¬ 
 sess his spurious kinsman’s acres. I should put down the young 
 Esquire’s income at, at least, Twenty Hundred Pounds a year. His 
 Father had been, it can not be questioned, a Warm Man; but I 
 should like to know, if he was veritably, as his Son essayed to make 
 out, a Gentleman, how he came to live in Honey-Lane Market, hard 
 by Cheapside. Gentlemen don’t live in Honey-Lane Market. ’Tis 
 in Bloomsbury, or Soho, or Lincoln’s Inn, or in the parish of St. 
 George, Hanover Square, that the real Quality have their habita» 
 
164 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 tions. I shall be told next that Gentlefolks should have their man¬ 
 sions by the Bunhouse at Pimlico, or in the Purlieus of Tyburn 
 Turnpike. No; ’twas at the sign of the Sleeveboard, in Honey- 
 Lane Market, that our Patrician Squire made his money. The 
 estate at Hampstead was a very fair one, lying on the North side, 
 Highgate way. Mr. Pinchin’s Mamma, a Rare City Dame, had a 
 Life interest in the property, and, under the old Gentleman’s will, 
 had a Right to a Whole Sum of Ten Thousand Pounds if she mar¬ 
 ried again. Thus it was that young Bartholomew was always in 
 an agony of Terror to learn that his mamma had been seen walk¬ 
 ing on a Sunday afternoon in Gray’s-Inn Gardens, or taking Pow¬ 
 dered Beef and Ratafia at the lavern in Flask Walk, or drinking of 
 Syllabubs at Bellasise; and by every post he expected to hear the 
 dreadful intelligence that Madame Pinchin had been picked up as a 
 City Fortune by some ruffling Student of the Inns of Court, some 
 Irish Captain, or some smart Draper that, on the strength of a new 
 Periwig and a lacquered hilt to his Sword, passes for a Macarony. 
 
 ’Tis not very romantic to relate, but ’tis no less a fact, that the 
 Son and the Mother hated one another. You who have gone 
 through the World and watched it, know that these sad unnatural 
 loathings between Parents and Children, after I he latter have grown 
 up, are by no means uncommon. To me it seems almost impossi¬ 
 ble that Estrangement and Dislike—nay absolute Aversion—should 
 ever engender between the Mother and the Daughter that as a Babe 
 hath hung on her Paps (or should have been so Nurtured, for too 
 many of our Fashionable Fine Dames are given to the cruelly Per¬ 
 nicious Practice of sending their Infants to Nurse almost the very 
 next Week after they are Born, thus Divorcing themselves from the 
 Joys of Tender Affection, and drying-up the very Source and Fon- 
 tinel of Natural Endearments; from which I draw the cause of 
 many of the harsh cold Humors and Uncivil Yapors that do reign 
 between the Great and their children). You may cry Haro upon 
 me for a Cynic or Doggish Philosopher; but I relate my Experiences, 
 and the Things that have stricken my Mind and Sense. I do know 
 Ladies of Quality that hate their Daughters, and would willingly 
 Whip them, did they dare do so, Grown Women as they are, for 
 Spite. I do know Fathers, Men of Parts and Rank, forsooth, jealous 
 of their Sons, and that have kept the Youngsters in the Background, 
 and even striven to Obscure their Minds that they might not cross 
 the Paternal Orbit. And has it not almost passed into a proverb, 
 that my Lord Duke’s Natural and most Inveterate Enemy is my 
 Lord Marquis, who is his Heir? But not to the World of Gold and 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 165 
 
 Purple are these Jealousies and Evil Feelings confined. You shall 
 find them to the full as Venomous in hovels, where pewter Platters 
 are on the shelves, and where Fustian and Homespun are the only 
 wear. Down in the West of England, where a worthy Friend of 
 mine has an Estate, I know a Shepherd tending his flock from sun¬ 
 rise—ay, and before the Sun gets up—until sundown. The honest 
 man has but half a dozen shillings a week, and has begotten Four¬ 
 teen Children. He is old now, and feeble, and is despised by his 
 Progeny. He leads at Home the sorriest of Lives. They take his 
 wages from him, and, were it not for a lump of fat Bacon which 
 my friend’s Servants give him now and again for Charity’s sake, 
 he would have nothing better to eat from Week’s End to Week’s 
 End than the hunch of Bread and the morsel of Cheese that are doled 
 forth to him every morning when he goes to his labor. Only the 
 other day, his sixth daughter, a comely Piece enough, was Married. 
 The poor old Shepherd begs a Holiday, granted to him easily enough, 
 and goes home at Midday instead of Even, thinking to have some 
 part in the Wedding Rejoicings, the which his last week’s wages 
 have gone some way to furnish forth. I promise you that ’tis a 
 fine Family Feast that he comes across. What but ribs of Beef and 
 Strong Ale—none of your Harvest Clmk—and old Cider and 
 Plum-pudding galore! But his Family will have none of his com¬ 
 pany, and set the poor old Shepherd apart, giving him but an extra 
 lump of Bread and Cheese to regale himself withal. ’Twas he who 
 told the Story to my Friend, from whom I heard it. What, think 
 you, was his simple complaint, his sole Protest againsf so much 
 Cruelty and Injustice? He did not rush into the Feasting-Room 
 and curse these Ingrates; he did not trample on this Brood that he 
 had nurtured, and that had turned out worse in their Unthankful¬ 
 ness than Vipers; no, he just sat apart, wringing of his Hands, and 
 meekly wailing, “ What, a weddin’, and narrer a bit o’ puddin’— 
 narrer a bit, a bit o’ puddin!” The poor soul had set his head on 
 a slice of dough with raisins in it, and even this crumb from their 
 Table was denied him by his Cubs. ’Tis a brave thing, is it not, 
 Neighbor, to be come to Threescore Years, and to have had Fruit¬ 
 ful Loins, and to be Mocked and Misused by those thou hast begot¬ 
 ten? How infinitely better do we deem ourselves than the Cat 
 and Dog, and yet how often do we imitate those Dumb Beasts in 
 our own degree! fondling them indeed when they are Kittens and 
 Puppies, but fighting Tooth and Nail with them when they be full- 
 grown. But there is as much to be said on the one side as on the 
 ptlier; and for every poor old' Lear wandering up and down, pur- 
 
166 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 sued by the spite of Goneril and Regan, shall you find a Cordelia 
 whose heart is broken by her Sire's Cruelty. 
 
 We did not long abide in Ostend. Presently my master grew 
 lired of the Town, as he did of most Things, and longed for change. 
 He had no belter words for the Innkeepers, Merchants, and others 
 who attended him than to call them a parcel of Extortionate Thieves, 
 and to vow that they were all in a conspiracy for robbing and bring¬ 
 ing him to the Poor House. He often did us the honor to accuse us 
 of being in the Plot; and many a time I felt inclined to resent his 
 Impertinence and to cudgel the abusive little man soundly; but I 
 was wise, and held my Tongue and my Hand as well. Following 
 the Chaplain’s advice, and humoring this little Man-monkey in all 
 his caprices, I found that he was not so bad a master after all, and 
 that when he was Drunk, which was almost always, he could be 
 generous enough. When he was sober and bewailed his excessive 
 Expenditure, our policy was to be Mum, or else to Flatter him; and 
 so no bones were broken, and I was well clad and fed, and always 
 had a piece of gold in my pouch, and so began to Feel my Feet. 
 
 We visited most of the towns in the Low Countries, then under 
 the Austrian rule, enjoying ourselves, with but little occasion for 
 repining. Now our traveling was done on Horseback, and now, 
 when there was a Canal Route, by one of those heavy, lumbering, 
 jovial old boats called Treyckshuyts. I know not whether I spell 
 the word correctly, for in the Languages albeit fluent enough, I 
 could never be accurate; but of the pleasant old vessels themselves 
 I shall ever preserve a lively recollection. You made a bargain 
 with the Master before starting, giving him so many guilders for a 
 journey, say between Ghent and Bruges, the charge amounting 
 generally to about a Guinea a day for each Gentleman passenger, 
 and half the sum for a servant. And the Domestic’s place on the 
 fore-deck and in the fore-cabin was by no means an unpleasant one; 
 for there he was sure to meet good store of comely Fraus, and 
 Juugfraus comelier still, with their clean white caps, Linsey-wool¬ 
 sey petticoats, wooden shoes, and little gold crosses about their 
 necks. Farmers and laboring-men and peddlers, with now and then 
 a fat, smirking Priest or two, who tried Hard to Convert you, if by 
 any means he discovered you to be a Heretic, made up the comple¬ 
 ment of passengers forward; but I, as a servant, was often called 
 aft, and had the pick of both companies, with but light duties, and 
 faring always like a Fighting Cock. For no sooner was our Pas¬ 
 sage Money paid than it became my duty to lay in a Great Stock 
 of Provisions for the voyage, my master disdaining to put up with 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 167 
 
 the ordinary country Fare of dried fish, salted beef, pickled Cab¬ 
 bage, hard-boiled eggs, faro-Beer, Schiedam, and so forth, and in¬ 
 structing me, under Mr. Hodge’s direction, to purchase Game, Veni¬ 
 son, Fruit, Vegetables, Preserves, Cneeses, and other condiments, 
 with a sufficient number of flasks of choice wine, and a little keg 
 of strong cordial, for fear of Accidents. And aboard the Treyck- 
 shuyt it was all Singing and Dancing and Carding and drinking of 
 Toasts. The quantity of Tobacco that the country people took was 
 alarming, and the fumes thereof at first highly displeasing to Mr. 
 Pinchin; but I, from my sea education, and the Time I had passed 
 in the Western Indies, was a seasoned vessel as to tobacco; and 
 often when my Master had gone to his cabin for the night was 
 permitted to partake off a Puff on deck with the Rev. Mr. 
 Hodge, who dearly loved his Pipe of Virginia. The Chaplain al¬ 
 ways called me John D.; and indeed by this time I seemed to be 
 fast losing the character as well as the name of Dangerous. My 
 life was passed in the Plenitude of Fatness; and I may saj r almost 
 that I was at Grass with Nebuchadnezzar, and had one Life with 
 the beasts of the field; for my days were given up to earthly in¬ 
 dulgences, and I was no better than a stalled ox. But the old perils 
 and troubles of my career w r ere only Dormant, and ere long I was 
 to become Jack Dangerous again. 
 
 A year passed away in this eating and drinking, dozy, lazy kind 
 of life. I was seventeen years of age, and it was the autumn of the 
 year ’29. We were resting for a time—not that Master, Chaplain, 
 or Man ever did much to entitle them to repose—at the famous 
 watering-place of Spa, close to the German Frontier. We put up 
 at the Silver Stag, where we were entertained in very Handsome 
 Style. Spa, or the Spaw, as it was sometimes called, was then 
 one of the most Renowned Baths in Europe, and w T as attended by 
 the very Grandest company. Here, when we arrived, w T as my Lord 
 Duke of Tantivy, an English nobleman of the very Highest Figure, 
 accompanied by my Lady Duchess, the Lord Marquis of Newmar¬ 
 ket, his Grace’s Son and Heir, who made Rare Work at the gam¬ 
 ing table«, with which the place abounded; the Ladies Kitty and 
 Bell Jockeymore, his daughters; and attended by a Numerous and 
 sumptuous suite. Here also did I see the famous French Prince de 
 Noisy-Gevres, then somewhat out of favor at the French Court for 
 writing of a Lampoon on one of his Eminence the Cardinal Min¬ 
 ister s Lady Favorites; the Great Muscovite Boyard Stchigakoff, 
 who had been here ever since the Czar Peter his master hai hon¬ 
 ored the Spaw with his presence; and any number of Foreign Nota- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS 
 
 168 
 
 bilities of the most Illustrious Rank, and of either sex. Money 
 was the great Master of the Ceremonies, however, and he who had 
 the Longest Purse w r as bidden to the Bravest Entertainments. The 
 English of Quality, indeed (as is their custom, which makes ’em so 
 hated by Foreigners), kept themselves very much to themselves, 
 and my Lord Duke of Tantivy’s party, with the exception of the 
 Marquis of Newmarket, who was good enough to Borrow a score of 
 gold pieces from us, and to Rook us at cards now and then, took 
 not the slightest notice of my poor little Master, who was dying to 
 be introduced into Polite Society, and spread abroad those fictions 
 of his cousinage to Lady Betty Heeltap and my Lord Poddle every¬ 
 where he went; but the French and German Magnificoes were less 
 Haughty, and were glad to receive an English Traveler who, when 
 his Vanity was concerned, would spend his cash without stint. We 
 drank a great deal of the Water of the Spaw, and uncommonly 
 nasty it was, making it a Thing of vital necessity to take the Taste 
 of it out of our Mouths as soon as might be with Wine and Strong 
 Waters. 
 
 From the Spaw we went by easy Stages to Cologne, a dirty, foul¬ 
 smelling place, but very Handsome in Buildings, and saw all that 
 was to be seen, that is to say, the churches, which Abound Greatly. 
 The Jesuits’ Church is the neatest, and this was shown us in a very 
 complaisant manner, although ’tis not the custom to allow Protes¬ 
 tants to enter it. Our Cicerone was a bouncing young Jesuit, with 
 a Face as Rosy as the sunny side of a Katherine Pear; but it 
 shocked me to hear how he indulged in Drolleries and Railleries in 
 the very edifice itself. He quizzed both the Magnificence and! 
 Tawdriness of the Altars, the Images of the Saints, the Rich Fram¬ 
 ing of the Relics, and all he came across, seeming no more impressed 
 by their solemnity than the Verger Fellow in Westminster Abbey 
 when he shows the Wax-work to a lot of Yokels at sixpence a head. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Surely, ’ ’ I thought, ‘ ‘ there must be something wrong in ai 
 Faith whose Professors make so light of its ceremonies, and turn 
 Buffoons in the very Temples;” nor could I help murmuring in¬ 
 wardly at that profusion of Pearls, Diamonds, and Rubies bestowed; 
 on the adornment of a parcel of old Bones, decayed Teeth, and dirty 
 Rags. A Fine English Lady, all paint and Furbelows, who was in 
 the church with us, honestly owned that she coveted St. Ursula’s 
 great Pearl Necklace, and, says she, “ ’Tis no sin, and not covet¬ 
 ing one’s neighbor’s goods, for neither St. Ursula nor the Jesuits 
 are any Neighbors of mine;” and as for my Master, he stared at a 
 Great St. Christopher, mighty fine in Silver, and said that it would 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 169 
 
 have looked very well as an Ornament for a Cistern in his garden 
 at Hampstead. 
 
 From Cologne to Nuremberg was five days, traveling post from 
 Frankfort; and here we observed the difference between the Free 
 Towns of Germany and those under the government of petty Abso¬ 
 lute Princes. The streets of Nuremberg are well built, and full of 
 People; the shops are loaded with Merchandise, and commonly 
 Clean and Cheerful. In Cologne and Wurtsburg there was but a 
 sort of shabby finery; a number of dirty People of Quality saun¬ 
 tered out; narrow nasty streets out of repair; and above half of the 
 common Sort asking Alms. Mr. Hodge, who would have his jest, 
 compared a Free Town to a handsome, clean Dutch Burgher’s wife, 
 and a Petty Prince’s capital to a poor Town Lady of Pleasure, 
 painted and ribboned out in her Head-dress, with tarnished Silver- 
 lace shoes, and a ragged Under-Petticoat—a miserable mixture of 
 Vice and Poverty. 
 
 Here at Nuremberg they had Sumptuary Laws, each man and 
 woman being compelled to dress according to his Degree, and the 
 Better sort only being licensed to wear Kicli suits of clothes. And, 
 to my thinking (though the Putting it in Practice might prove 
 somewhat inconvenient), we should be much belter off in England 
 if some such laws were made for the moderation and restraining of 
 Excess and Extravagance in Apparel. As folks dress nowadays, it 
 is impossible to tell Base Raff from the Highest Quality. What 
 with the cheapness of Manufactured goods, and the pernicious in¬ 
 troduction of imitation Gold and Silver lace, you shall find Drapers’ 
 apprentices, Tavern drawers, and Cook wenches, making as Brave 
 a Figure on Sundays as their masters and mistresses; and many a 
 young Spark has been brought to the Gallows, and many a poor 
 Lass to Bridewell or the ’Spital, through an over Fondness for 
 cheap Finery, and a crazy conceit for dressing like their betters. 
 
 Nuremberg hath its store of Churches and Relics, and the like; 
 and even the Lutherans, who are usually thought to be so strict and 
 severe in the adornment of their Temples, have in one of ’em a large 
 Cross fairly set with jewels. But this is nothing to the Popish High 
 Church, where they have at least a score of Saints, all dressed out 
 in laced clothes, and fair Full-bottomed Wigs plentifully powdered. 
 Here did we come across a Prince Bishop of one of the Electoral 
 German Towns, traveling with a Mighty Retinue of Canons and 
 Priests, and Assessors and Secretaries, and a long train of Mules 
 most richly caparisoned, with a guard of a hundred Musketeers, 
 
170 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 with violet liveries and Miters broidered on their cartouch-boxes, 
 to keep the Prince Bishop from coming to harm. My Master dined 
 with this Reverend Personage, although Mr. Hodge, to maintain 
 the purity of his cloth, kept aloof from any such Papistical enter¬ 
 tainment; but I was of the party, it being my duty to wait behind 
 the Squire’s chair. We dined at two of the clock on very rich 
 meats, high spiced, as I have usually found Princes and Bishops to 
 like their victuals (for the Plainer sort soon Pall on their Palates); 
 and after dinner there was a Carousal, which 'lasted well-nigh till 
 bed-time. His Episcopal Highness’s Master of the Horse (though 
 the title of Master of the Mules, on which beasts the company 
 mostly rode, would have better served him) got somewhat too Merry 
 on Rhenish about Dusk, and was carried out to the stable, where 
 the Palefreneers littered him down with straw, as though he had 
 been a Horse or a Mule himself, and then a little fat Canon, who 
 was the Buffoon or Jack Pudding of the party, sung songs over his 
 drink which were not in the least like unto Hymns or Canticles, 
 but rather of a most Mundane, not to say Loose, order of Chant. 
 His Highness (who wore the Biggest Emerald ring on his right Fore¬ 
 finger, over his glove, that ever I saw) took a great fancy to my 
 Master, and at Parting pledged him in choice Rhenish in the hand¬ 
 somest fashion, using for that purpose a Silver Bell holding at least 
 a Pint and a half English. Out of this Bell he takes the clapper, 
 and holding it mouth upward, drains it to the health of my Master, 
 then fixes the clapper in again, Topsy-turvies his goblet, and rings 
 a peal on the bell to show that he is a right Skinker. My Master 
 does the same, as in Duty Bound, and mighty Flustered he got be¬ 
 fore the Ringing-time came; and then the little Fat Canon that sung 
 the songs essayed to do the same, but was in such a Quandary of 
 Liquor, that he spills a pint over Mr. Secretary’s lace bands, and 
 the two would have fallen to Fisticuffs but for his Episcopal High¬ 
 ness (who laughed till his Sides Shook again) commanding that they 
 should be separated by the Lackeys. This was the most jovial 
 Bishop that I did meet with; and I have heard that he was a good 
 kind of man enough to the Poor, and not a harsh Sovereign to his 
 subjects, especially to the Female Part who were fortunate enough 
 to be pretty; but young as I was, and given to Pleasures, I could 
 not help lifting up my Hands in shocked Amazement to see this 
 Roistering kind of life held by a Christian Prelate. And it is cer¬ 
 tain that many of the High Dutch Church Dignitaries were at this 
 time addicled to a most riotous mode of living. ’Twas thought no 
 scandal in a Bishop to Drink, or to Dice, or to gallivant after Damo- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 171 
 
 eels; but woe be to him if lie Dared to Dance, for the Shaking of a 
 Leg (that had a cassock over it) was held to be a most Heinous and 
 Unpardonable Sin. 
 
 Next to Ratisbon, where Mr. Pinchin was Laid up with a Fever 
 brought on by High living, and for more than Five Weeks remained 
 between Life and Death, causing both to Mr. Hodge and myself the 
 Greatest Anxiety; for, with all his Faults and Absurd Humors, 
 there was something about the little Man that made us Bear with 
 him. And to be in his Service, for all his capricious and passing 
 Meannesses, was to be* in very Good Quarters indeed. He was 
 dreadfully frightened at the prospect of Slipping his Cable in a 
 Foreign Land, and was accustomed, during the Delirium that ac¬ 
 companied the Fever, to call most piteously on his Mamma, some¬ 
 times fancying himself at Hampstead, and sometimes battling with 
 the Waves in the Agonies of the cramp, as I first came across him 
 at Ostend. When he grew better, to our Infinite Relief, the old fit 
 of Economy came upon him, and he must needs make up his mind 
 to Diet himself upon Panada and Mint Tea, taking no other nour¬ 
 ishment until his Doctor tells him that if he did not fall to with a 
 Roast chicken and a flask of White Wine, he would sink and Die 
 from pure Exhaustion. After this he began to Pick up a bit, and 
 to Relish his Victuals; but it was woful to see the countenance he 
 pulled when the Doctor’s Bill was brought him, and he found that 
 he had something like Eighty Pounds sterling to pay for a Sickness 
 of Forty Days. Of course he swore that he had not had a tithe of 
 the Draughts and Mixtures that were set down to him—and he had 
 not indeed consumed them bodily, for the poor little Wretch would 
 have assuredly Died had he swallowed a Twentieth Part of the Vile 
 Messes that the Pill-blistering Gentleman sent in; but Draughts and 
 Mixtures had all duly arrived, and we in our Discretion had un¬ 
 corked them, and thrown the major part of their contents out of 
 window. We were in league, forsooth (so he said), with the Doctor 
 to Eat and Ruin him, and ’twas not till the latter had threatened to 
 appeal to the Burgomaster, and to have us all clapped up in the 
 Town Jail for roving adventurers (for they manage things with a 
 High Hand at Ratisbon), that the convalescent would consent to 
 Discharge the Pill-blisterer’s demands; and, granting even that all 
 this Muckwash had been supplied, the Doctor must have been an 
 Extortioner, and have made a Smart Profit out of that said Fever; 
 for he presses a compliment of a silver snulf-box on the Chaplain, 
 giving me also privately a couple of Golden Ducats; nor have I any 
 doubt that the Innkeeper had also his commission to receive for 
 
172 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 recommending a Doctor to the sick Englishman, and was duly sat¬ 
 isfied by Meinheer Bolus. 
 
 There was the Innkeeper’s bill itself to be unpouched, and a 
 mighty Pother there was over each item, Mr. Pinchin seeming to 
 think that because he had been sick, it was our Duty to have laid 
 abed too, swallowing naught but Draughts and Slops. Truth was, 
 that we should not have been Equal to the task of Nursing and 
 Tending so difficult a Patient had we not taken Fortifying and Sub¬ 
 stantial Nourishment and a sufficiency of Wholesome Liquor; not 
 making merry, it is true, with indecent revelry, but Bearing up 
 with a Grave and Reverent countenance, and taking our Four 
 Meals a day, with Refreshing sups between whiles. And I have 
 always found that the vicinage of a Sick-Room is apt to make one 
 exceeding Hungry and Thirsty, and that a Moribund, albeit 
 he can take neither Bite nor Sup himself, is, in his surround¬ 
 ings, the cook’s best Friend, and the Vintner’s most bountiful 
 Patron. 
 
 Coming to his health again, Mr. Pinchin falls nevertheless into a 
 state of Dark Melancholy and Despondency, talking now of return¬ 
 ing to England, and ending his days there, and now entertaining an 
 even Stranger Fancy that had come over his capricious mind. We 
 had nursed him during his sickness according to the best of our 
 Capacity, but felt nevertheless the want of some Woman’s hand to 
 help us. Now all the Maids in the House were Mortally afraid of 
 the Fever, and would not so much as enter the Sick Man’s apart¬ 
 ment, much less make his bed; while, if we had not taken it at our 
 own Risk 1o promise the Innkeeper Double Fees for lodging, the 
 cowardly knave would have turned us out, Neck and Crop, and we 
 should have been forced to convey our poor sufferer to a common 
 Hospital. But there was in this City of Ratisbon a convent of 
 Pious Ladies who devoted themselves wholly (and without Fee or 
 Reward for the most part) to works of Mercy and Charity ; and Mr. 
 Hodge happening to mention my Master’s State to the English 
 Banker—one Mr. Sturt, who was a Romanist, but a very ci vil kind 
 of man—he sends to the convent, and there comes down forthwith 
 to our inn a dear Good Nun that turned out to be the most zealous 
 and patient Nurse that I have ever met with in my Travels. She 
 sat up night and day with the Patient, and could scarcely be per¬ 
 suaded to take ever so little needful Rest and Refreshment. When 
 she was not ministering to the sufferer’s wants she was Praying, 
 although it did scandalize Mr. Hodge a little to see her tell her 
 Beads; and when Mr. Pinchin was well enough to eat his first slice 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 173 
 
 of chicken, and sip his first beaker of white wine, she Clapped her 
 Hands for joy, and sung a little Latin Hymn When it came to 
 her dismissal, this Excellent Nun (the whole of whose Behavior 
 was most touchingly Edifying) al first stoutly refused to accept of 
 any Recompense for her services (which, truly no Gold, Silver, or 
 Jewels could have fitly rewarded); and I am ashamed to say that 
 my Master, who had then his Parsimonious Nightcap on, was at 
 first inclined to take the Good Sister at her Word. Mr. Hodge, 
 however, showed him the Gross Ingratitude and Indecorum of such 
 a proceeding, and, as was usual with him, he gave way, bellowing, 
 however, like a Calf when the Chaplain told him that he could not 
 in Decency do less than present a sum of Fifty Ducats (making 
 about Forty Pounds of our Money) to the convent; for personal or 
 private Guerdon the Nun positively refused to take. So the Money 
 was given, to the great delectation of the Sisterhood, who, I believe, 
 made up their minds to Sing Masses for the bountiful English Lord 
 as they called him, whether he desired it or not. 
 
 Sorry am I to have to relate that so Pleasant and Moving an In¬ 
 cident should have had anything like a Dark side. But ’tis always 
 thus in the World, and there is no Rose without a Thorn. My 
 master, thanks to his Chaplain, and, it may be, likewise to my own 
 Humble and Respectful Representations while I was a-dressing of 
 him in the Morning, had come out of this convent and sick-nurse 
 affair with Infinite credit to himself and to the English nal ion in 
 general. Everywhere in Ratisbon was his Liberality applauded; 
 but, alas, the publicity that was given to his Donation speedily 
 brought upon us a Plague and Swarm of Ravenous Locusts and 
 Bloodsuckers. There were as many convents in Ratisbon as plums 
 in a Christmas porridge; there were Nuns of all kinds of orders, 
 many of whom, I am afraid, no better than they should be; there 
 were Black Monks and Gray Monks and Brown Monks and White 
 Monks, Monks of all colors of the Rainbow, for aught I can tell. 
 There were Canons and Chapters and Priories and Brotherhoods 
 and Sisterhoods and Ecclesiastical Hospitals and Priors’-Almonries 
 and Saints’ Guilds without end. Never did I see a larger fry of 
 holy men and women, professing to live only for the next world, 
 but making the very best of this one while they were in it. A 
 greasy, lazy, worthless Rabble-Rout they "were, making their 
 Religion a mere Pretext for Mendicancy and the worst of crimes. 
 For the most part they were as Ignorant as Irish Hedge School¬ 
 masters; but there were those among them of the Jesuit, Capuchin, 
 and Benedictine orders; men very subtle and dangerous, well ac- 
 
174 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 quainted with the Languages, and able to twist you round their 
 Little Fingers with False Rhetoric and Lying Persuasions. 
 
 These Snakes in the grass got about my poor weak-minded 
 Master, although we, as True Protestants and Faithful Servants, 
 did our utmost to keep them out; but if you closed the Door against 
 ’em, they would come in at the Key-hole; and if you made the 
 Window fast they would slip down the Chimney; and, with their 
 Pernicious Doctrines, Begging Petitions, and Fraudulent Represen¬ 
 tations, did so Badger, Bait, Beleaguer, and Bully him, that the poor 
 Man knew not which Way to Turn. They too did much differ in 
 their Theology, and each order of Friars seemed to hold the strong 
 opinion that all who wore cowls cut in another shape than theirs, 
 or shaved their pates differently, must Infallibly Burn; but they 
 were of one Mind in tugging at Mr. Pinchin’s Purse-strings, and 
 their cry was ever that of the Horse-Leech’s Three Daughters— 
 “ Give, give!” 
 
 Thus they did extract from him Forty Crowns in gold for Redeem¬ 
 ing out of Slavery among Ihe Sallee Rovers ten Citizens of Ratisbon 
 fallen into that doleful captivity; although I do, on my conscience, 
 believe that there were nol five native-born men in the whole city 
 who had ever seen the Salt Sea much less a Sallee Rover. Next 
 was a donation for a petticoat for this Saint, and a wig for that one; 
 a score of Ducats for a School, another for an Hospital for Lepers; 
 until it was Ducats here and Ducats there all day long. Nor was 
 this the worst; for my Master began to be Troubled in the Spirit, 
 and to cry out against the Vanities of the World, and to sigh after 
 the Blessedness of a Life passed in Seclusion and Contemplation. 
 
 “ I’ll turn Monk, I will,” he cried out one day; “ my Lord Duke 
 of Wharton did it, and why should not I?” 
 
 “ Monk, and a Murrain to them, and Mercy to us all!” says Mr. 
 Hodge, quite aghast. “ What new Bee will you put under your 
 Bonnet next, sir?” 
 
 “You’re a Heretic,” answers Mr. Pincliin. “An Anglican 
 Heretic, and so is my knave John here. There’s nothing like the 
 old Faith. There’s nothing like Relics. Didn’t I see a prodigious 
 claw set in gold only yesterday in the Barnabite Church, and wasn’t 
 that the true and undoubted relic of a Griffin?” 
 
 “ Was the Griffin a Saint?” asks the Chaplain, humbly. 
 
 “ What’s that* to you?” retorts my Master. “ You’re a Heretic, 
 you’re a Scoffer, an Infidel! I tell you that I mean to become a 
 Monk.” 
 
 “ What, and wear pease in your shoes! nay, go without shoes at 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 175 
 
 all, and leave off cutting your toe-nails?” quoth the Chaplain, much 
 irate. “ Forsake washing and the Thirty-Nine Articles! Shave 
 your head, and forswear the Act of Settlement! Wear a rope girdle 
 and a rosary instead of a handsome sword with a silver hilt at your 
 side! Go about begging and bawling of paternosters! Was it for 
 this that I, a Clergyman of the Church of England, came abroad 
 with you to keep you in the True Faith and a Proper respect for 
 the Protestant Succession?” Mr. Hodge had quite forgotten the 
 value of his Patron’s favor, and was growing really angry. In 
 those days men would make sacrifices for conscience’ sake. 
 
 “ Hang the Protestant Succession, and you, too!” screams Mr. 
 Pinchin. 
 
 “ Jacobite, Papist, Warming-Pan!” roars the Chaplain, “I will 
 delate you to the English Envoy here, and you shall be laid by the 
 heels as soon as ever you set foot in England. You shall swing for 
 this, sir!” 
 
 “ Leave the Room!” yells Mr. Pinchin, starting up, but trembling 
 in every limb, for he was hardly yet convalescent of his Fever. 
 
 “ I won’t,” answers the sturdy Chaplain. “You wretched re¬ 
 bellious little Ape, I arrest you in the King’s name and Convoca¬ 
 tion’s. I’ll teach you to malign the Act of Settlement, I will!” 
 
 Whenever Mr. Hodge assumed a certain threatening' tone, and 
 began to pluck at his cassock in a certain manner, Mr. Pinchin was 
 sure to grow frightened. He was beginning to look scared, when 
 I, who remembering my place as a servant had hitherto said noth¬ 
 ing, ventured to interpose. 
 
 “ Oh, Mr. Pinchin!” I pleaded, “ think of your Mamma in Eng¬ 
 land. Why, il will break the good lady’s heart if you go Rome- 
 ward, Sir. Think of your estate. Think of your tenants and the 
 Commission of the Peace, and the duties of a Liveryman of the 
 City of London. ’ ’ 
 
 I knew that I had touched my Master in a tender part, and anon 
 he began to whimper, and cry about his Mamma, who, he shrewdly 
 enough remarked, might cause his Estate to be sequestrated under 
 the Act against Alienation of Lands by Popish Recusants, and so 
 rob the Monks of their prey. And then, being soothingly addressed 
 by Mr. Hodge, he admitted that the Friars were for the greater part 
 Beggars and Thieves; and before supper-time we obtained an easy 
 permission from him to drive those Pestilent Gentry from the doors, 
 and deny him on every occasion when they should be impudent 
 enough to seek admission to his presence. 
 
 We were no such high Favorites in Ratisbon after this; and I be- 
 
176 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 lieve the Jesuits denounced us to the Inquisition at Rome—in case 
 we should ever go that way—that the Capuchins cursed us, and the 
 Benedictines preached against us. The Town Authorities began 
 also to look upon us with a cold eye of suspicion; and but for the 
 sojourn of an English Envoy in Ratisbon (we had diplomatic agents 
 then all over the Continent, and very little they did for their Money 
 save Dance and Intrigue), the Burgomaster and his Councilors 
 might have gotten up against us what the French do call une querelle 
 d'Allemand, which may be a Quarrel about Anything, and is a 
 Fashion of Disagreeing peculiar to the Germans, who may take 
 offense at the cock of your Hat or the cut of your Coat, and make 
 either of them a State affair. Indeed, I believe that some Im¬ 
 prudent Expressions, made use of by my Master on seeing the 
 Horrible Engines ol Torture shown to the curious in the vaults of 
 the castle, were very nearly being construed into High Treason by 
 the unfriendly clerical party, and that an Information by the Stadt- 
 Assessor was being actually drawn up against him, when, by much 
 Persuasion coupled with some degree of gentle Violence, we got 
 him away from Ratisbon altogether. 
 
 CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH. 
 
 OF THE MANNER IN WHICH I CAME TO THE FAMOUS CITY OF 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 From Ratisbon we traveled down the River Danube, in a very 
 pleasant and agreeable manner, in a kind of Wooden House mount¬ 
 ed on a flat-bottomed Barge, and not unlike a Noah’s Ark. ’Twas 
 most convenient, and even handsomely laid out, with Parlors, and 
 with Drawing-Rooms, and Kitchens and Stoves, and a broad 
 planked Promenade over all, railed in, and with Flowering Plants 
 in pots by the sides, quite like a garden. They are rowed by twelve 
 men each, and move with an almost Incredible Celerity; so that in 
 the same day one can Delight one’s Eye with a vast Variety of 
 Prospects; and within a short space of time the Traveler has the 
 diversion of seeing a populous City adorned with magnificent 
 Palaces, and the most Romantic Solitude, which appear quite 
 Apart from the commerce of Mankind, the banks of the Danube 
 being exquisitely disposed into Forests, Mountains, Vineyards 
 rising in Terraces one above the other, Fields of Corn and Rye, 
 great Towns, and Ruins of Ancient Castles. Now for the first 
 time did I see the Cities of Passau and of Lintz, famous for the re* 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 177 
 
 treat of the Imperial Court when Vienna was besieged b} r the Great 
 Turk, the same that John Sobieski, King of Poland, timeously De¬ 
 feated and put to Rout, to the great shame of the Osmanlis, and the 
 Everlasting Glory of the Christian arms. 
 
 And now for Vienaa. This is the capital ot the German Emperor, 
 Kaiser, or Caesar as he calls himself, and a mighty mob of under- 
 Csesars or Archdukes he has about him. In my young days the 
 Holy Roman Empire was a Flourishing concern, and made a great 
 noise in the world; but now people do begin to speak somewhat 
 scornfully of it, and to hold it in no very great Account, principally, 
 I am told, owing to the leveling Principles of the Emperor Joseph 
 the Second, who, instead of keeping up the proper State of Despotic 
 Rule and filling his Subjects’ minds with a due impression of the 
 Dreadful Awe of Imperial Majesty, has taken to occupying himself 
 with the affairs of mean and common persons—such as Paupers.. 
 Debtors, Criminals, Orphans, Mechanics, and the like—quite turn¬ 
 ing his back on the Exalted Tradition of undisputed power, and 
 saying sneeringly, that he only bore Crown and Scepter because 
 Royalty was his Trade. This they call a Reforming Sovereign, 
 but I can not see what good comes out of such wild Humors and 
 Fancies. It is as though my Lord Duke were to ask his Running 
 Footman to sit down at table with him; beg the Coachman not 
 to trouble himself about stable work, but go wash the carriage- 
 wheels and currycomb the Horses himself; bid my Lady Duchess 
 and his Daughters dress themselves in Dimity Gowns and Mob 
 caps, while Sukey Mops and Dorothy Draggletail went off to the 
 Drawing-room in Satin sacks and High-heeled shoes; and, to cap 
 his Absurdities, called up all his Tenants to tell them that hence¬ 
 forth they were to pay no Rent or Manor Dues at the Court Leet, 
 but to have their Farms in freehold forever. No; it is certain the 
 World can not go on without Authority, and that too of the Smart¬ 
 est. What would you think of a ship where the Master Mariner 
 had no power over his crew, and no license to put ’em in the Bil¬ 
 boes, or have ’em put at the gangway to be Drubbed soundly when 
 they deserved it? And these Reforming Sovereigns, as they call 
 ’em, are only making, to my mind, Rods for their own Backs, and 
 Halters for their own Necks. Where would the Crown and Majesty 
 be now, I wonder, if His Blessed Majesty had given way to the Im¬ 
 pudent Demands of Mr. Washington and the American Rebels?* 
 
 * Had Captain Dangerous written his memoirs a few years later, he might 
 have found cause to alter his opinion respecting the wisdom of George III. in 
 refusing to grant the American demands. 
 
178 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 The Streets of Vienna, when I first visited that capital, were very 
 close and narrow—so narrow, indeed, that the fine fronts of the 
 Palaces (which are very Grand) can scarcely be seen. Many of 
 ’em deserve close observation, being truly Superb, all built of Fine 
 White Stone, and excessive high, the town being much too little 
 for the number of its inhabitants. But the Builders seem to have 
 repaired that Misfortune by clapping one town on the top of an¬ 
 other, most of the Houses being of Five and some of Six Stories. 
 The Streets being so narrow, the rooms are all exceeding Dark, 
 and never so humble a mansion but has half a dozen families living 
 in it. In the Handsomest even all Ranks and Conditions are 
 Mingled together pell-mell. You shall find Field-Marshals, Lieu¬ 
 tenants, Aulic Councilors, and Great Court Ladies divided but by a 
 thin partition from the cabins of Tailors and Shoe-makers; and few 
 even of the Quality could afford a House to themselves, or had 
 more than Two Floors in a House—one for their own use, and an¬ 
 other for their Domestics. It was the Dead Season of the year 
 when we came to this City, and so, at not so very enormous a rate, 
 we got a suite of six or eight large rooms, all inlaid, the Doors and 
 Windows richly carved and gilt, and the Furniture such as is rarely 
 seen but in the Palaces of Sovereign Princes in other countries; the 
 Hangings in finest tapestry in Brussels, prodigious large looking- 
 glasses in silver frames (in making which they are exceedingly 
 Expert); fine Japan Tables, Beds, Chairs, Canopies, and Curtains 
 of the richest Genoa Damask or Velvet, almost covered with gold 
 lace or embroidery. The whole made Gay by Pictures, or Great 
 Jars of Porcelain; in almost every room large lusters of pure 
 Crystal; and everything as dirty as a Second-hand Clothes-dealer’s 
 booth in Rag Fair. 
 
 We were not much invited out at Yienna, the very Highest Qual¬ 
 ity only being admitted to their company by the Austrians, who are 
 the very Haughtiest and most exclusive among the High Dutch, 
 and look upon a mere untitled Englishman as Nobody (although 
 he may be of Ten Times better blood than their most noble Ragged¬ 
 nesses). A mean sort, for all their finely furnished palaces, and 
 wearing mighty foul Body Linen. The first question they ask, 
 when they Hear that a Stranger desires to be Presented to them, is, 
 “ Is he Born?” The query having nothing to do with the fact of 
 his nativity, but meaning (so I have been told), “ Has he five-and- 
 thirty Quarterings in his Coat-of-Arms?” And if he has but four- 
 and thirty (though some of their greatest nobles have not above 
 Four or Five Hundred Pounds a year to live on), the Stranger is 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 179 
 
 held to be no more Born than if he were an Embryo; and the Qual¬ 
 ity of Vienna take no more notice of him than of the Babe which 
 is unborn. 
 
 Truly, it was the Dead Season, and we could not have gone to 
 many Dinners and Assemblies, even if the Aristocracy had been 
 minded to show hospitality toward us. There were Theaters and 
 Operas, however, open, which much delighted my Master and my¬ 
 self (who was privileged to attend him), although the Reverend 
 Mr. Hodge stayed away for conscience’ sake from such Profane 
 amusements, comforting himself at home over a Merry Book and 
 a Bottle of Erlauer, which is an Hungarian wine, very dark and 
 Rough, but as strong as a Bullock, and an excellent stomachic. 
 Nothing more magnificent than the Operas then performed at the 
 Gardens of the Favorite, throwing the Paris and London houses 
 utterly into the shade, and I have heard that the Habits, Decora 
 tions, and Scene Paintings, cost the Emperor Thirty Thousand 
 Pound Sterling. And to think of the millions of poor ragged 
 wretches that must have been taxed, and starved, and beaten, and 
 robbed, and skinned alive, so to speak, before His Majesty’s pleas¬ 
 ures would be paid for* The Stage in this Favorite Garden was 
 built over a large canal, and at the beginning of the Second Act 
 divided (as in our own Theater hard by Sadler’s Wells) into Two 
 Parts, discovering the water, on which there immediately came 
 from different parts two little Fleets of gilded vessels, that gave the 
 impression (though ludicrously incorrect in their Riggings and 
 Maneuvers) of a Sea fight The story of the Opera was, if I re¬ 
 member right, the Enchantments of Alcina; an Entertainment 
 which gave opportunity for a great Variety of Machines and 
 changes of the Scene, which "were performed with surprising swift¬ 
 ness. No House could hold such large Decorations. But the 
 Ladies all sitting in the open air, exposed them to much inconven¬ 
 ience; for there was but one Canopy for the Imperial Family; and 
 the first night we were there a shower of Rain coming on, the 
 Opera was broken off, and the Company crowded away in such 
 confusion that we w T ere almost squeezed to Death. 
 
 If their Operas were thus productive of such Delectable Enter¬ 
 tainment (abating the Rain and crowding), I can not say much for 
 their Comedies and Drolls, which were highly Ridiculous. We 
 went to the German Playhouse and saw the Story of Amphitryon 
 very scurvily represented. Jupiter falls in love out of a peep-hole 
 
 * And yet Captain Dangerous is a stanch opponent of Reform.— Ed. 
 
180 
 
 CAPTAIK DAHGEROUS. 
 
 in the clouds in the beginning, and the end of it was the Birth of 
 Hercules. It was very pitiful to see Jove, under the figure of 
 Amphitryon, cheating a Tailor of a laced coat, and a Banker of a 
 bag of Money, and a Jew of a Diamond Ring, with the like Ras¬ 
 cally Subterfuges; and Mercury’s usage of Sosia was little more 
 dignified. And the play was interlarded with very gross expres¬ 
 sions and unseemly gestures, such as in England would not be 
 tolerated by the Master of the Revels, or even in France by the 
 Gentleman of the Chamber having charge over the Theaters, but at 
 which the Vinnnese Quality, both Male and Female, did laugh 
 Heartily and with much Gusto. 
 
 Memorandum. As some of the Manners then existing have 
 passed away (in this sad changeful age, when everything seems 
 melting away like Cowheel Jelly at a Wedding Feast), I have set 
 down for those curious in such matters that the Vienna Dames 
 were squeezed up in my time in gowns and gorgets, and had built 
 fabrics of gauze on their Heads about a yard high, consisting of 
 Three or Four Stories, fortified with numberless yards of heavy 
 Ribbon. The foundation of this alarming structure was a thing 
 they called a Bourle , which was exactly of the same shape and 
 kind—only four times Bigger—as those Rolls which our Milk maids 
 make use of to fix their Pails upon. This, machine they covered 
 with their own hair, with which they mixed a great deal of False; 
 it being a Particular and Especial Grace with them to have their 
 Heads too large to go into a moderate-sized Tub. Their Hair was 
 prodigiously powdered to conceal the mixture, and so set out with 
 numerous rows of Bodkins, sticking out three or four Inches on each 
 side, made of Diamonds, Pearls, Green, Red, and Yellow Stones, 
 that it certainly required as much Art and Experience to carry the 
 load upright as to dance on May-day with the Garland that the 
 Dairy Wenches borrow (under good security) from the Silversmiths 
 in Cranbourn Alley. Also they had Whalebone Petticoats, out¬ 
 doing ours by several yards in circumference. Vastly Ridiculous 
 were these Fashions—think you not so, good Sir or Madame, as the 
 case may be? And yet, may I be whipped, but much later in the 
 present century I have seen such things as hoops, tours, and tou¬ 
 pees, not one whit less Ridiculous. 
 
 The Empress, a sweet pretty lady, was perforce obliged to wear 
 this Habit; but with the other Female Grandees it only served to 
 increase their natural Ugliness. Memorandum: that at Court 
 (whither we went not, being “ unborn,” but heard a great deal of 
 it from hearsay) a Game called Quinze was the Carding most in 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 181 
 
 vogue. Their drawing-rooms are different from those in England, 
 no Man Creature entering them but the old Grand-Master, who 
 comes to announce to the Empress the arrival of His Imperial 
 Majesty the Caesar. Much gravity and Ceremony at these Recep¬ 
 tions, and all very Formal, but decent. The Empress sits in a 
 great easy-chair; but the Archduchesses are ranged on chairs with 
 tad, straight Backs, but without arms; whilst the other Ladies of 
 the Court (poor things) may stand on one Leg, or lean against side¬ 
 boards, to rest themselves as they chose; but Sit Down they Dare 
 not. This is the same Discipline, I believe, that still prevails, and 
 so I speak of it in the present tense. The table is entirely set out, 
 and served by the 'Empress’s Maids of Honor (who put on the very 
 dishes and sauces), Twelve young Ladies of the First Quality, 
 having no Salary but their chamber at court (like our Maids at the 
 Montpelier by Twitnam), where they live in a kind of Honorable 
 Captivity, not being suffered to go to the Assemblies or Public 
 Places in Town, except in compliment to the Wedding of a Sister 
 Maid, whom the Empress always presents with her picture set in 
 Diamonds. And yet, for all their Strict confinement, I have heard 
 fine Accounts of the goings-on of these noble Ladies. The first 
 three of them are called “ Ladies of the Key,” and wear little golden 
 keys at their sides. The Dressers are not at all the figures they 
 pretend to in England, being looked upon no otherwise than as 
 downright Chamber-maids. 
 
 So much of the State and Grandeur of Vienna, then the most 
 considerable city in Germany, though now Berlin, thanks to the 
 Genius of its Puissant Monarch, has Reared its head very high. It 
 was, however, my cruel Fate to see something more of the Capital 
 of the Holy Roman Empire, and that, too, in a form that was of 
 the unpleasantest. You see that my Master and the Chaplain and 
 I (when we had been some Weeks in town, and through the interest 
 of the English Bankers had gotten admission into some Society not 
 quite so exclusive as the People who wanted to know whether you 
 were ‘ ‘ born.’ ’) went out one afternoon to an Archery Festival that 
 was held in the garden of the Archchancellor’s Villa, Schbnbrunn 
 (now Imperial property). ’Twas necessary to have some kind of Intro¬ 
 duction; but that, if you stood well in the Banker’s Books, was not 
 very Difficult; and, invited or not, you had to pay a golden Ducat 
 to the Usher of Ceremonies (a preposterous creature, like the Jack 
 of Diamonds in his dress), that brought your ticket to your lodg¬ 
 ings. So away we went to Schbnbrunn, and at a Respectful dis¬ 
 tance were privileged to behold two of the young Archduchesses all 
 
182 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 dressed, their Hair full of jewels, and with hows and arrows in 
 their hands; while a little way off were placed three oval pictures, 
 which were the marks to be shot at. The first w r as a Cupid, filling 
 a bottle of Burgundy, with the motto “ Cowards may be brave here.'''’ 
 The second Fortune, holding a garland, with the motto “ Venture 
 and Wind' The third a Sword with a Laurel Wreath at the point, 
 and for legend, “ 1 can be vanquished without shame.” At t’other 
 end was a Fine Gilded Trophy all wreathed with flowers, and made 
 of little crooks, on which were hung rich Moorish Kerchiefs (which 
 were much affected by the Yiennese, a people very fond of gay and 
 lively colors), tippets, ribbons, laces, etc., for the small prizes. The 
 Empress, who sat under a splendid canopy fenced about by mus¬ 
 keteers of the Life Guard, gave away the first prize with her own 
 hand, which w T as a brave Ruby Ring set with Diamonds in a gold 
 snuff-box. For the Second prize there was a little Cupid, very 
 nicely done out in amethysts, and besides these a set of fine Porce¬ 
 lain, of the kind they call Eggshell (for its exceeding Tenderness 
 and Brittleness), with some Japan trunks, feather-fans, and Whim- 
 whams of that order. All the men of quality in Vienna were 
 spectators; but only the ladies had permission to shoot. There 
 was a good background of burghers and strangers, and in the rear 
 of all a Mob that drank beer and scrambled for Kreutzers, that the 
 officers of the Guard who were keeping the Barriers would now 
 and then throw among them for their Diversion’s sake. And al] 
 behind it was like a Fair, set out with Booths, where there was 
 shooting and drinking and Gaming, just at one’s ease; for I have 
 ever found that in the most Despotic countries ihe Mobile have a 
 kind of Rude License accorded them; whereas in States where there 
 is Freedom Authority gives a man leave to Think, but very care¬ 
 fully ties his hands and feet whenever he has a mind to a Frisk. 
 My Master was in very good spirits that day (having quite recovered 
 his health), and for a time wanders about the Tents, now treating 
 the common people, and now having a bumper with Mr. Hodge. 
 We had tickets for the second ring, but not for the Inner one, 
 where the Quality were standing; but just before the shooting of 
 the great Match for the Empress’s ruby ring, Mr. Pinchin, into 
 whose head some of the bubbles from the white Hungarian had 
 begun to mount, begins to brag about his gentle extraction, and his 
 cousinage to Lady Betty Heeltap and my Lord Podddle. He vows 
 that he is as well “ born ” as any of the rascaille German Sausage 
 gorgers (as he calls them), and is as fit- to stand about Royalty as 
 any of them. The Chaplain, who was always a discreet man, tried 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 183 
 
 hard to persuade him against thrusting himself forward where his 
 company was not desired: but Mr. Pin chin was in that state in 
 which arguing with a man makes him more obstinate. Away he 
 goes, the Chaplain prudently withdrawing into a Booth; but I, as 
 in Duty bound, followed my Master, to see that he got into no 
 mischief. But alas, the Mischief that unhappy little Man speedily 
 contrived to entangle himself within! 
 
 By dint of a Florin here and a Florin there, the adventurous 
 Squire succeeded in slipping through the row of Guards who sepa¬ 
 rated the outej from the inner Ring, who, from the richness of his 
 Apparel (for he was dressed in his very Best), may perhaps have 
 mistaken him for some Court Nobleman who had arrived late. He 
 had got within the charmed circle indeed (I being a few paces be¬ 
 hind him), and was standing on Tiptoe to lake a full stare at one of 
 the young Archduchesses who was bending her bow to shoot at 
 Cupid, when up comes an old Lord with a very long white face 
 like a Sheep, with a Crimson Ribbon across his breast, and a long 
 white staff in his hand atop of which was a Golden Key. He first 
 asks my Master in German what he wants there, at least so far as I 
 could understand; to which the squire, not being versed in the 
 Tongues of Almaine (and, indeed, High Dutch and Low Dutch are 
 both very Base Parlance, and I never could master ’em), answers, 
 “Non comprenny ,” which was his general reply when he was puz¬ 
 zled in the Foreign Lingos. Then the old Lord, with a very sharp 
 voice and in French, tells him that he has no Business there, and 
 bids him begone. Mr. Pinchin could understand French, though 
 he spoke it but indifferently; but he, being fairly Primed, and in one 
 of his Obstinate Moods, musters up his best parleyvoo, and tells the 
 Ancient with the Golden Key (and I saw that he had another one 
 hung round his neck by a parcel chain, and conjectured him to be 
 a High Chamberlain at least) to go to the Devil. (I ask pardon for 
 this w r ord.) Hereupon my Lord with the Sheep’s countenance col¬ 
 lars him, runs his white stick into liis visage, so that the key nearly 
 puts his eye out, and roars for the Guard. Then Mr. Pinchin, ac¬ 
 cording to his custom when he has gotten himself into a pother, be¬ 
 gins to squeal for Me, and the Chaplain, and his Mamma, to help 
 him out of it. My blood was up in a moment; I had not had a 
 Tussle with any one for a long time. “ Shall I, who have brained 
 an English Grenadier, sneak off before a rabble-rout of Sauerkraut 
 Sddiers?” I asked myself, remembering how much Stronger and 
 Older I had grown since that night. “ Here goes, Jack Danger¬ 
 ous!” and away I went into the throng, wrenched the white staff 
 
184 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 from the old Lord's hand, made him unhand my Master, and draw¬ 
 ing his Sword for him (he being too much terrified to draw it him¬ 
 self), grasped him firmly by the arm, and was preparing to cut a 
 way back for both of us through the crowd. But ’twas a mad at¬ 
 tempt. Up came the Guard, every man of them Six Foot high, and 
 for all they were Sauerkraut Soldiers, pestilent Veterans who knew 
 what Fighting meant. When I saw their fixed Bayonets, and their 
 Mustacliios curling with rage, I remembered a certain Scar I had 
 left after a memorable night in Cliarlwood Chase. We were far 
 from our own country, and there was no Deniijolifi of Brandy by; 
 ;so, though it went sorely against my Stomach, there was no help 
 for it but to surrender ourselves at once Prisoners of War. Prison- 
 <er$ of War, forsooth! They treated us worse than Galley Slaves. 
 Our hands were bound behind us with cords, Halters were put 
 about our necks, and, the Grenadiers prodding us behind with their 
 Bayonets—the Dastards, so to prick Unarmed Men!—we were con¬ 
 ducted in ignominy through the rascal Crowd, which made a Grin¬ 
 ning, Jeering, Hooting lane for us to pass to the Guardhouse at the 
 Entrance of the Gardens. The Officer of the Guard was at first for 
 having both of us strapped down to a Bench as a preliminary meas¬ 
 ure to receive two hundred Blows apiece with Willow Hods in the 
 small of our backs, which is their usual way of commencing Judi¬ 
 cial proceedings, when up comes the old Lord in a Monstrous Puff 
 and Flurry, and says that by the Empress’s command no present 
 Harm is to be done us; but that we are to be removed to the Town 
 Jail till the Csesar’s pleasure respecting us shall be known. Her 
 Majesty, however, forgot to enjoin that we were not to be fettered; 
 so the Capt ain of the Guard he claps on us the heaviest Irons that 
 ever Mutineers howled in; and we, being flung into a kind of Brew¬ 
 er’s Dray, and accompanied by a Strong Guard of Horse and Foot, 
 were conveyed to Vienna, and locked up in the Town Jail. 
 
 Luckily Mr. Hodge speedily got wind of our misfortune, and hied 
 him to the British Embassador, who, being fond of a Pleasant 
 Story, laughed heartily at the recital. He promised to set my Mas¬ 
 ter off on payment of a Fine or something of that sort; and as for 
 me, he was good enough to opine that I might think myself Lucky 
 if I escaped with a sound dose of the Bastinado once a week for 
 three months, and a couple of years or so in Irons. The Chaplain 
 pleaded for me as well as for my Master as hard as he could; and 
 his Excellency frowned and said, that the Diversions of a Gentle¬ 
 man might run a little Wild sometimes and no harm done; but that 
 the Insolence of Servants (which was a growing evil) must be re- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 185 
 
 strained. “ At all events, I’ll see wliat I can do,” he condescended 
 to explain. “ At all events, the Fellow can’t fare very badly for a 
 sound Beating, and perhaps they will let him otf when he has had 
 cudgeling enough. ” So he calls for his Coach, and goes off to 
 Court. 
 
 CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH. 
 
 OF PARIS (BY THE WAY OF THE PRISON AT VIENNA), AND OF MY 
 COMING BACK FOR A SEASON TO MY OWN COUNTRY, WHERE 
 MY MASTER, THE CHAPLAIN, AND I PART COMPANY. 
 
 The Fox in the Fable, so my Grannum (who had a ready Mem¬ 
 ory for those Tales) used to tell me, when he first saw the Lion was 
 half dead with Fright. The Second View only a little Dashed him 
 with Tremor; at the Third he durst salute him Boldly; and at the 
 Fourth Rencounter Monsieur Reynard steals a Shin Bone of Beef 
 from under the old Roarer’s Nose, and laughs at his Beard. This 
 Fable came back to me, as with a Shrug and a Grin (somewhat of 
 the ruefulest) I found myself again (and for no Base Action I aver) 
 in a Prison Hold. I remembered what a dreadful Sickness and 
 Soul-sinking I had felt when doors of Oak clamped with Iron had 
 first clanged upon me; when I first saw the Blessed Sun made into 
 a Quince Tart by the cross-bars over his Golden face; when I first 
 heard that clashing of Gyves together which is the Death Rattle of a 
 man’s Liberty. But now! Jails and I w r ere old Acquaintances. Had 
 I not lain long in the dismal Dungeon at Aylesbury? Had I not 
 sweltered in the Hold of a Transport Ship? I was but a Youth; 
 but I felt myself by this time a Parcel Philosopher. The first thing 
 a man should do when he gets into Jail, is to ask himsell whether 
 there is any Chance of his being Hanged. If he have no Sand 
 Blindness, or Gossamer dancing of Threepenny cord before his 
 eyes, why then he had e’en better eat and drink, and Thank God, 
 and hope for the Best. “ They won’t Hang me,” I said cheerfully 
 enough to myself, when I was well laid up in Limbo. The Em¬ 
 press is well known to be a merciful Lady, and will cast the ermine 
 of Mercy over the Scarlet Robe of Stern Authority. Perhaps I shall 
 get my Rib3 basted. What of that? Flesh is flesh, and will Heal. 
 Tliep can not beat me so sorely as I have seen done (but never of 
 myself Ordered but when I was compelled) to Negro Slaves. If they 
 fine me, my Master must Pay. Here I am by the Heels, and until 
 I get out again, what use is there in fretting? Lady Fortune has 
 
186 
 
 CAPTAIN DANCEROUS. 
 
 played me a scurvy trick; but may she not to-morrow play as 
 roguish a one to the Sheep-faced old Chamber Lord with the golden 
 Key, or any other smart Pink-an-eye Dandiprat that hangs about 
 the Court? The Spoke which now is highest in her Wheel may. 
 when she gives it the next good Twist, be undermost as Nock. So 
 I took Courage, and bade Despair go Swing for a dried Yeoman 
 Sprat as he is. 
 
 I being a Servant, and so unjustly accounted of Base Degree by 
 these Sour Cabbage-gorging and Sourer Beer-swilling High Dutch 
 Bed-Pressers, was put into the Common Ward with the Raff; while 
 my Master was suffered, on payment of Fees, to have better Lodg¬ 
 ings. Jailers are Jailers all over the world, and Golden Fetters are 
 always the lightsomest. We were some Sixty Rascals (that is to 
 say, Fifty-Nine scoundrels, with one Honest Youth, your Humble 
 Servant) in the Common Room, with but one Bed between us; this 
 being, indeed, but a Raised Wooden Platform, like that you see in 
 a Soldiers’ Guard-Room. They brought us some Straw every day, 
 and littered us down Dog Fashion, and that was all we had for 
 Lodging Gear. It mattered little. There was a Roof to the Jail 
 that was weather-tight, and what more could a Man want?—until 
 things got better at least. 
 
 Which they speedily did; and neither Master nor Man came to 
 any very great harm. ’Twas a near touch though; and the safety 
 of Jack Dangerous’s bones hung for days, so I was afterward told, 
 by the merest thread. They deliberated long and earnestly about 
 my case among themselves. It was even, I believe, brought before 
 the Aulic Council; but, after a week’s confinement, and much going 
 to and fro between the English Embassador and the Great ones of 
 the Court, Mr. Pinchin had signified to him that he might procure 
 his Enlargement by paying a Fine of Eight Hundred Flcrins, which 
 was reckoned remarkably cheap, considering his outrageous be¬ 
 havior at the Shooting match. Some days longer they thought fit 
 to detain Me; but my Master, after he regained his liberty, came 
 to see me once and sometimes twice a day; and, through his and 
 Mr. Hodge’s kindness, I was supplied with as good Victuals and 
 Drink as I had heretofore been accustomed to. Indeed, such abun¬ 
 dant fare was there provided for me, that I had always a superfluity, 
 and I was enabled to relieve the necessities and fill the bellies of 
 many poor Miserable Hungry creatures, who otherwise must have 
 starved; for ’twas the custom of the Crown only to allow their Cap¬ 
 tives a few Kreutzers, amounting to some twopence-fartliing a day 
 English, for their subsistence. The Oldest Prisoner in the Ward, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 187 
 
 whom they called Father of the Room, would on this Bare Pittance 
 take tithe and toll often in a most Extorlionate manner. Then 
 these Jail birds would fall to thieving from one another, even as they 
 slept; and if a man was weak of Arm and Feeble of Heart, he might 
 go for a week without touching a doit of his allowance, and so 
 might Die of Famine, unless he could manage to beg a little filthy 
 Cabbage Soup, or a lump of Black Bread, from some one not wholly 
 without Bowels of Compassion. 
 
 But I had not been here more than a month when the instances 
 of my master at length prevailed, and I too was enlarged; only some 
 Fifty Florins being laid upon me by way of fine. This mulct was 
 paid perforce by Mr. Pincliin; for as ’twas through his mad folly, 
 and no fault of my own, that I had come to Sorrow, he was in 
 Justice and Equity bound to bear me harmless in the Consequences. 
 He was fain, however, to make some Demur, and to Complain, in 
 his usual piteous manner, of being so amerced. 
 
 “ Suppose you had been sentenced to Five Hundred Blows of a 
 Stick, sirrah,”—’twas thus he put the case to me, logically enough 
 
 — ‘ ‘ would you have expected me to pay for thee in carcass, as now 
 I am paying for thee in Purse?” 
 
 “Circumstances alter cases,” interposes Mr. Hodge in my be¬ 
 half. “ Here is luckily no question of Stripes at all. John may 
 bless his Stars that he hath gotten off without a Rib-Roasting; and 
 to your Worship, after the Tune they have made you dance to, and 
 the Piper you have paid, what is this miserable little Fine of Fifty 
 Florins?” So my Master paid; and Leaving another Ten Florins 
 for the poor Losels in the Jail to drink his health in, we departed 
 from that place of Durance, thinking ourselves, and with reason, 
 very well out of it. 
 
 Servants are not always so lucky when they too implicitly obey 
 the behests of their Masters, or, in a hot fever of Fidelity, stand up 
 for them in Times of Danger or Desperate Affrays. Has there not 
 ever been brought under your notice that famous French Law Case, 
 of the Court Lady—the Dame de Liancourt, I think she w^as called 
 
 — against whom another Dame had a Spite, either for her Beauty, 
 or her Wit, or her Riches’ sake? She, riding one day in her Coach- 
 and Six by a cross-road, comes upon the Dame de Liancourt, like¬ 
 wise in her Coach and-Six, both ladies having the ordinary comple¬ 
 ment of Running Footmen. My Lady w r ho had the Spite against 
 her of Liancourt whispers to her Lackeys; and these poor Faithful 
 Rogues, too eager to obey their Mistress’s commands, ran to the 
 other coach-door, pulled out that unlucky Dame de Liancourt, and 
 
188 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 then and there inflicted on her that shameful chastisement which 
 jealous Venus, as the Poetry books say, did, once upon a time, order 
 to poor Psyche; and which, even in our times, so I have heard, 
 Madame du Barry, the last French King’s Favorite did cause Four 
 Chambermaids to inflict on some Lady about Versailles with whom 
 she had cause of Anger. At any rate, the cruel and Disgraceful 
 thing was done, the Dame sitting in her or aeh meanwhile clapping 
 her hands. Oh, ’twas a scandalous thing! The poor Dame de Lian- 
 court goes, Burning with Rage and Shame, to the Chief Town of 
 the Province, to lodge her complaint. The matter is brought be¬ 
 fore the Parliament, and in due time it goes to Paris, and is heard 
 and reheard, the Judges all making a Mighty to-do about it; and at 
 last, after some two years and a half’s litigation, is settled in this 
 wise. My Lady pays a Fine and the Costs, and begs the Dame de 
 Liancourt’s pardon. But what, think you, becomes of the two poor 
 Lackeys that had been rash enough to execute her Revengeful 
 Orders? Why, at first they are haled about from one jail to an¬ 
 other for Thirty Months in succession, and then they are subjected 
 to the question, Ordinary and Extraordinary—that is to say, to the 
 Torture; and at last, when my Lady is paying her fine of 10,000 
 livres, I think, or about Four Hundred Pounds of our Money, the 
 Judges at Paris pronounce against these two poor Devils of Foot¬ 
 men—that were as innocent of any Malice in the Matter as the Babe 
 that is unborn, and only Did what they were Told—that one is to 
 be Hanged in the Place de Greve, and the other banished to the 
 Galleys, there to be chained to the Oar for life. A fine Encourage¬ 
 ment truly for those who think that, for good Victuals and a Fine 
 Livery, they are bound to obey all the Humors and Caprices, even 
 to the most Unreasonable and most Arbitrary, of their Masters and 
 Mistresses. 
 
 We were in no great Mood, after this Affair was over, to remain 
 in Vienna. Mr. Pinchin did at first propose journeying through 
 the Province of Styria by Gratz, to a little town on the sea-coast 
 called Trieste—that has much grown in importance during these 
 latter days—and so crossing the Gulf to Venice; but he abandoned 
 this Scheme. His health was visibly breaking; his Funds, he said, 
 were running low; he was more anxious about his Mamma than 
 ever; and ’twas easy to see that he was half weary and half afraid 
 of the Chaplain and Myself, and that he desired nothing Half so 
 Much as to get Rid of us Both. So we packed up, and resumed 
 our Wanderings, but in Retreat instead of Advance. We passed, 
 coming back, through Dresden, where there are some fine History 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 189 
 
 Pictures, and close to which the Saxon Elector had set up a great 
 Factory for the making of painted Pottery Ware; not after the 
 monstrous Chinese Fashion, but rather after the Mode practiced 
 with great Success at our own CJielsea. The manner of making this 
 Pottery was, however, kept a high State Secret by the government 
 of the then Saxon Elector; and no strangers were, on any pretense, 
 admitted to the place where the Works were carried on; so of this 
 w r e saw nothing; and not Sorry was I of the privation, being utterly 
 Wearied and palled with much gadding about and Sight-seeing. So 
 post to Frankfort, where there were a many Jews; and thence to 
 Mayence; and from thence down the grand old River Rhine to the 
 City of Cologne; whence, by the most lagging stages I did ever 
 know, to Bruxelles. But we stayed not here to see the sights—not 
 even the droll little statue of the Manikin (at the corner of a street, 
 in a most improper attitude; and there is a Group quite as unseemly 
 in one of the Markets, so I was told, although at that time we were 
 fain to pass them by), which Manikin the burgesses of Bruxelles 
 regard as a kind of tutelary Divinity, and set much greater store by 
 than we do by our London Stone, or little naked boy in Panyer 
 Alley. But it is curious to mark what strange whimwhams these 
 Foreigners run mad after. 
 
 At Bruxelles my Master buys an old Post-Carriage—cost him Two 
 Hundred and Fifty Livres, which was not dear; and the wretched 
 horses of the country being harnessed thereto, we made Paris in 
 about a week afterward. We alighted at a decent enough kind of 
 Inn, in the Place named after Lewis the Great (an eight-sided space 
 and the houses handsome, though not so larae as Golden Square). 
 There was a great sight the day after our coming which we could 
 not well avoid seeing. This was the Burial of a.certain great 
 nobleman, a Duke and Marshal of France, and at the time of his 
 Decease Governor of the City of Paris. I have forgotten his name; 
 but it does not so much matter at this time of day, his Grace and 
 Governorship being as dead as Queen Anne. The Burial began on 
 foot, from his house, which was next door but one to our Inn, and 
 went first to his Parish Church, and thence, in coaches, right to the 
 other end of Paris, to a Monastery, where his Lordship’s Family 
 Vault was. There was a prodigious long procession of Flambeaus; 
 Friars, white, black, and gray, very trumpery, and marvelous foul¬ 
 looking;—no plumes, banners, scutcheons, led horses, or open 
 chariots—altogether most mean obsequies. The march began at 
 eight in the evening, and did not end till four o’clock the next 
 morning, for at each church they passed they stopped for a Hymu 
 
190 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 and Holy Water. And, by the way, we were told that one of these 
 same choice Friars, who had been set to watching the body while 
 it lay in state, fell asleep one night, and let the Tapers catch fire of 
 the rich Velvet Mantle, lined with Ermine and powdered over with 
 gold Flower-de-Luces, which melted all the candles, and burned 
 off one of the feet of the Departed, before it wakened him. 
 
 It w T as afterward my fortune 1o know Paris very well; but I can 
 not say that I thought much of the place on first coming to it. Dirt 
 Ihere was everywhere, and Ihe most villainous smells that could be 
 imagined. A great deal of Show, but a vein of Rascal manners 
 running through it all. Nothing neat or handsomely ordered. 
 Where my Master stood to see the Burial Procession, the balcony was 
 hung with Crimson Damask and Gold; but the windows behind 
 him were patched in half a dozen places with oiled paper. At din¬ 
 ner they gave you at least Three Courses; but a third of the Repast 
 was patched up with Sallets, Butter, Puff-paste, or some such mis¬ 
 carriages of Dishes. Nothing like good, wholesome, substantial 
 Belly Timber. None but Germans, and other Strangers, wore fine 
 clothes; the French people mainly in rags, but powdered up to 
 their evebro vs. Their coaches miserably horsed, and rope har¬ 
 nessed; yet, in the way of Allegories on the panels, all tawdry 
 enough for the Wedding of Cupid and Psyche. Their shop-signs 
 extremely laughable. Here some living at the Y Gue; some at 
 Venus’s Toilet; and others at the Sucking Cat. Their notions of 
 Honor most preposterous. It was thought mighty dishonorable for 
 any that was a Born Gentleman not to be in the Army, or in the 
 King’s Service, but no dishonor at all to keep Public Gaming 
 Houses; there being at least five hundred persons of the first Qual¬ 
 ity in Paris living by ir. You might go to their Houses at all Hours 
 of the Night, and find Hazard, Pharaoh, etc. The men who kept 
 the gaming tables at the Duke of Gesvres’ paid him twelve guineas 
 a night for the privilege. Even the Princesses of the Blood were 
 mean enough to go snacks in the profits of the banks kept in their 
 palaces. I will say nothing more of Paris in this place, save that it 
 was the fashion of the Ladies to wear Red Hair of a very deep hue; 
 these said Princesses of the Blood being consumedly carroty. And 
 I do think that if a Princess of the Blood was born with a Tail, and 
 chose to show it, tied up with Pea-Green Ribbon, through the 
 Placket-hole of her Gown, the Ladies, not only in France, but all 
 over the World, would be proud to sport Tails with Pea-Green 
 Ribbons—or any other color that was the mode—whether they were 
 Born with ’em or not, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 191 
 
 Nothing more that is worthy of Mention took place until our leav¬ 
 ing Paris. We came away in a calash, that is, my Master and the 
 Chaplain, riding at their Ease in that vehicle, while I trotted behind 
 (n a little Bidet, and posted it through St. Denis to Beauvais. So 
 on to Abbeville, where they had the Impudence to charge us Ten 
 Livres for three Dishes of Coffee, and some of the nastiest Eau de 
 Yie that ever I tasted; excusing themselves, the Rogues, on the 
 score that Englishmen were scarce nowadays. And to our great 
 Relief, we at last arrived at Calais, where we had comfortable 
 Lodgings, and good fare, at a not too exorbitant rate. Here we had 
 to wait four days for a favorable Wind; and even then we found 
 the Packet Boat all taken up for Passengers, and not a place on 
 board to be had either for Love or Money. As Mr. Pinchin was 
 desperately pressed to reach his Native Land, to wait for the next 
 boat seemed utterly intolerable to him; so, all in a Hurry, and be¬ 
 ing cheated, as folks when they are in a Hurry must needs be, we 
 bargained for a Private Yacht to take us to Dover. The Master 
 would hear of nothing less than five-and-twenty guineas for the 
 voyage, which, with many Sights and almost Weeping, my poor 
 Little Master agrees to give. He might have recouped himself ten 
 guineas of the money; for there was a Great Italian Singing 
 Woman, with her Chamber-maid, her Yalet de Chambre, a Black 
 Boy, and a Monkey, bound for the King’s Opera House in the Hay- 
 market, very anxious to reach England, and willing to pay Hand¬ 
 somely—out of English pockets in the long run—for the accommo¬ 
 dation we had to give; but my capricious Master flies into a Tiff, 
 and vows that he will have no Foreign Squallers on board his Yacht 
 with him. So the poor Signora—wiio was not at all a Bad-looking 
 woman, although mighty Brown of visage—was fain to wait for 
 the next Packet; and w T e went off in very great state, but still hav¬ 
 ing to Pay with needless heaviness for our Whistle. And, of 
 course, all the way there w r as nothing but whining and grumbling 
 on his Worship’s part, that so short a trip should have cost him 
 Twenty-five Guineas. The little Brute was never satisfied; and 
 wiien I remembered the Life I had led with him, despite abundant 
 Victuals, good Clothes, and decent Wages, I confess that I felt half- 
 inclined to pitch him over the Taffrail, and make an End of him, 
 for good and all. 
 
 The villainous Tub which the rascals who manned it called a 
 Yacht w T as not Seaworthy, wouldn’t answer her Helm, and floun¬ 
 dered about in the Trough of the Sea for a day and a half; and even 
 then we did not make Dover, but w T ere obliged to beat up for Rams- 
 
192 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 gate. We had been fools enough to pay the Fare beforehand; and 
 these Channel Pirates were unconscionable enough to demand Ten 
 Guineas more, swearing that they would have us up before the 
 Maj^or—who, I believe, was in League with ’em—if we did not dis¬ 
 burse. Then the Master of the Port came upon us for Dues and 
 Light Tolls; and a Revenue Pink Boarded us, the Crew getting 
 Half-Drunk at our Expense, under pretense of searching for con¬ 
 traband, and sticking to us till we had given the Midshipman a 
 guinea, and another guinea to the Crew, to drink our Healths. 
 
 CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH. 
 
 JOHN DANGEROUS IS IN THE SERVICE OF KING GEORGE. 
 
 It now becomes expedient for me to pass over no less than Fif¬ 
 teen Years of my momentous Career. I am led to do this for divers 
 cogent Reasons, two of which I will forthwith lay before my Reader. 
 For the first, let me urge a Decent Prudence. It is not, Goodness 
 knows, that I have anything to be ashamed of, which should hin¬ 
 der me from giving a Full, True, and Particular Account of all the 
 Adventures that befell me in these same Fifteen Years, with the 
 same Minute Particularity which I bestowed upon my Unhappy 
 Childhood, my varied Youth, and stormy Adolescence. I did 
 dwell, perhaps, with a fonder circumspection and more scrupulous 
 niceness upon those early days, inasmuch as the things we have 
 first known and suffered are always more vividly presented to our 
 mind when we strive to recall ’em, sitting as old men in the ingle- 
 nook, than are the events of complete manhood. Yet do I assure 
 those who have been at the pains to scan the chapters that have 
 gone before, that it would be easy for me to set down with the 
 Fidelity of a Ledger-Keeper all the things that happened unto me 
 from my eighteenth year, wdien I last bade them leave, and the 
 year 1747, when I had come to be three-and-thirty years of age. I 
 remember all: the Ups and Downs; the Crosses and the Runs of 
 Luck; the Fortunes and the Misfortunes; the Good and the Bad 
 Feasts I sat me down to, during an ever-changing and Troublous 
 Period. But, as I have said, I have been moved thus to skip over 
 a vast tract of time through Prudence. There may have been cer¬ 
 tain items in my life upon which, now that I am respectable and 
 prosperous, I no more care to think of. There may be whole pages, 
 close-written and full of Stirring Matter, which I have chosen to 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 193 
 
 cancel; there may be occurrences treated of which it is best, at tin's 
 time of Day, to draw a Veil over. Finally, there may be Great 
 Personages still Living who would have just cause to be Offended 
 were I to tell all I know. The dead belong to all the World’ and 
 their Bones are ofttimes Dug up and made use of by those who in 
 the Flesh knew them not; but Famous Persons live to a very Great 
 Age, and it is sometimes scandalous to recount what adventures one 
 has had with ’em in the days of their hot and rash Youth. Had I 
 permission to publish all I am acquainted with, the very Hair upon 
 your Head might stand up in Amazement at some of the Matters I 
 could relate:—how Mean and Base the Great and Powerful might 
 become; how utterly Despisable some of the most Superb and Arro¬ 
 gant Creatures of this our Commonwealth might appear. But I 
 am prudent and Hold my Tongue. 
 
 Again, and for the Second Reason, I am led to pass over these 
 fifteen years through a feeling that is akin to Mercy and Forbear¬ 
 ance toward my Reader. For I well know how desperately given is 
 John Dangerous to a wordy Garrulity—how prone he is to make 
 much of little things, and to elevate to the dignity of Important 
 and Commanding Events that which is perchance only of the very 
 slightest moment. By Prosing and Amplifying, by Moralizing and 
 Digressing, by spinning of yarns and wearing of reflections thread¬ 
 bare, I might make a Great Book out of the pettiest and most un¬ 
 eventful career; but even in honestly transcribing my actual ad¬ 
 ventures, one by one—the things I have done, and the Men and 
 Women I have known—I should imperceptibly swell a Narrative, 
 which was at first meant to attain no great volume, to most deplor¬ 
 able dimensions. And the world will no longer tolerate Huge 
 Chronicles in Folio, whether they relate to History, to Love or Ad¬ 
 venture, to Voj^ages and Travels, or even to Philosophy, Mechanics, 
 or the Useful Arts. The world wants smart, dandy little volumes, 
 as thin as a Herring, and just as Salt. For these two reasons, then, 
 do I nerve myself to a sudden leap, and entreat you now to think 
 no longer of John Dangerous as a raw youth of eighteen summers, 
 but as a sturdy, well-set man of thirty-three. 
 
 Yet, lest mine Enemies and other vile Rascal Fellows that go 
 
 about the town taking away the characters of honest people for mere 
 
 Envy and Spitefulness’ sake, lest these petty curmudgeons should, 
 
 in their own sly saucy manner, Mop and Mow, Grin and Whisper, 
 
 that if I am silent as to Fifteen Years of my Sayings and Doings, I 
 
 have good cause for holding my peace—lest these scurril Slanderers 
 
 should' insinuate that during this time I lay in divers Jails for 
 7 
 
194 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 offenses which I dare not avow, that I was concerned in Desperate 
 and Unlawful Enterprises which brought upon me many Indict¬ 
 ments in the King’s Courts, or that I was ever Pilloried, or held to. 
 Bail for contemptible misdemeanors—I do here declare and affirm 
 that for the whole of the time I so pass over I earned my bread in a 
 perfectly Honest, Legal, and Honorable Manner, and that I never 
 once went out of the limits of the United Kingdom. I have heard, 
 indeed, a Ridiculous Tale setting forth that, finding myself Desti¬ 
 tute in London after the Chaplain, Mr. Pincliin, and I had parted 
 company for good and all, I enlisted—being a tall, strapping Fellow 
 —in the Foot Guards. The preposterous Fable goes on to say that 
 quickly mastering my Drill, and being a favorite with my officers, 
 whom I much pleased with my Alacrity and Intelligence, although 
 they were much given to laugh at my assumptions of superior Binh, 
 and nicknamed me “ Gentleman Jack”—I was promoted to the 
 rank of Corporal, and might have aspired to the dignity of a Ser¬ 
 geant’s. Halbert, but that in a Mad Frolic one night I betook myself 
 to the road as a Footpad, and robbed a Gentleman, coming from 
 the King’s Arms, Kensington, toward the Weigh House at Knights- 
 bridge, of fourteen spade guineas, a gold watch, and a bol tie-screw. 
 And that being taken by the Hue and Cry, and had before Justice 
 De Veil then sitting at the Sun Tavern in Bow Street, I should have 
 been committed to Newgate, tried, and most likely have swung for 
 the robbery, but for the strong intercession of my Captain, who was 
 a friend of the Gentleman robbed. That I was indeed enlarged, 
 but was not suffered to go scot-free, inasmuch as, being tried by 
 court-martial for absence without leave on the night of the gentle¬ 
 man’s misfortune, I was sentenced to receive three hundred lashes 
 at the halberts. Infamous and Absurd calumnies! Three hun¬ 
 dred lashes, forsooth! John Dangerous has scars enow on his body, 
 but none from the cat-o’-nine-tails. His cicatrices (save those which 
 result from his illusage by his Barbarous Tormentors when he was 
 a slave among the Moors) were all gotten in Fair and honorable 
 Warfare. This precious History of my ever being a Common 
 Soldier is about on a piece with that other Impudent Farrago set¬ 
 ting forth that, having spent what Money was bestowed upon me by 
 Mr. Pinchin when I left his service in riotous Debauchery, and 
 wandering about the Eastern end of the town in sore distress, I was 
 pounced upon by a Press Gang, and taken on board the Tower 
 Tender, whence I was shipped to Portsmouth, and served ten years 
 Before the Mast in a Man-of-War. A foul libel again! I should 
 never be ashamed of eating the King’s bread, God bless him! and 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 195 
 
 fighting for him, either as a private Fusilier or as a Foremast man 
 in the Fleet; but it has been my happy fortune to serve his Majesty, 
 both by Sea and Land, in capacities far higher than either of these. 
 
 Behold me, then, in the beginning of the year 1747, in the Serv¬ 
 ice of his Sacred Majesty King George the Second. Behold me, 
 further, installed in no common Barrack, mean Guard-house, or 
 paltry Garrison Town, but in one of the most famous of his Maj¬ 
 esty’s Royal Fortresses*—a place that had been at once and for 
 centuries (ever since the days of Julius Caesar, as I am told) a 
 Palace, a Citadel, and a Prison. In good sooth, I was one of the 
 King’s Warders, and the place where I was stationed was the An¬ 
 cient and Honorable Tower of London. 
 
 Whether I had ever worn the King’s uniform before, either in. 
 scarlet as a Soldier in his armies, or of blue and tarpaulin as a Sailor 
 in his Fleets, or of brown as a Riding Officer in his customs—under 
 which guise a man may often have doughty encounters with smug¬ 
 glers that are trying to run their contraband cargoes, or to hide their 
 goods in farmer’s houses—or of green, as a Keeper in one of the 
 Royal Chases—I absolutely refuse to say. Here I am, or rather 
 here I w r as, a Warder and in the Tower. 
 
 I was bravely accoutered. A doublel of crimson cloth, with the 
 crown, the Royal Cipher, G. R., and a wreath of laurel embroidered 
 in gold, both on its back and front; and a linen ruff, well plaited, 
 round my neck, sleeves puffed with black velvet, trunk-hose of 
 scarlet, rosettes in my slashed shoes, and a flat hat with a border 
 of the red and white roses of York and Lancaster in satin ribbon—■ 
 these made up my costume. There were forty of us in the Tower, 
 mounting guard with drawn swords at the portcullis gate and at the 
 entrances to the lodgings of such as were in hold, and otherwise 
 attending upon unfortunate noblemen and gentlemen who were in 
 trouble. On state occasions, when taking prisoners by water from 
 the Tower to Westminster, and in preceding the Lieutenant to the 
 outward port, we carried Halberts or Partisans with tassels of gold 
 and crimson thread. But although our dress was identical, as you 
 may see from the prints, with that of the Beef-Eaters, we Tower 
 Warders were of a very different kidney to the lazy hangers-on 
 about St. James’s. Those fellows were Anybodies, Parasites of 
 Back-Stairs favorites, and spies and lackeys, transformed serving- 
 men, butlers past drawing corks, grooms and porters, even. They 
 had nothing to do but to loiter about the antechambers and stair¬ 
 cases of St. James’s, to walk by the side of his Majesty’s coach 
 when he went to the Houses of Parliament, or to fight with the 
 
196 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Marshalmen at Royal Funerals for petty spoils of wax candles or 
 shreds of black hangings. The knaves actually wore wigs, and 
 powdered them, as though they had been so many danglers on the 
 Mall. They passed their time, when not in requisition about the 
 Court, smoking and card-playing in the taverns and mug-houses 
 about Scotland Yard and Spring Gardens. They had the run of a 
 few servant wenches belonging to great people, but we did not envy 
 them their sweethearts. Some of them, I vgrily believe, w T ere sunk 
 so low as, when they were not masquerading at court, to become 
 tavern-drawers, or ushers and criers in the courts of law about 
 Westminster. A very mean people were these Beef-Eaters, and they 
 toiled not, neither did they spin, for the collops they eat. 
 
 But we brave boys of the Tower earned both our Beef and our 
 Bread, and the abundant Beer and Strong Waters with which we 
 washed our victuals down. We were military men, almost all. 
 Some of us had fought at Blenheim or Ramilies—these were the 
 veterans: the very juniors had made the French Maison du Roy 
 scamper, or else crossed bayonets with the Irish Brigade (a brave 
 body of men, but deplorably criminal in carrying arms against a 
 Gracious and Clement Prince) in some of those well-fouglit German 
 Fields, in which His Royal Highness the Duke and my Lord George 
 Sackville (since Germaine, and my very good friend and Patron) 
 covered themselves with immortal glory. Nay some of us. One of 
 us at least, had fought and bled, to the amazement of his comrades 
 and the admiration of his commanders—never mind where. ’Tis 
 not the luck of every soldier to have had his hand wrung by the 
 Great Duke of Cumberland, or to have been presented with ten 
 guineas to drink his health withal by Field-Marshal Wade. We 
 would have thought it vile poltroonery and macaronism to have 
 worn wigs—to say nothing of powder—unless, indeed, the peruke 
 was a true Malplaquet club or Dettingen scratch. 
 
 Our duties were no trifling ones, let me assure you. The Tower, 
 as a place of military strength, was w T ell looked after by the Regi¬ 
 ment of Foot Guards and the Companies of Artillery that did gar¬ 
 rison duties on its ramparts and at the foot of its draw-bridges: but 
 to us was confided a charge much more onerous, and the custody of 
 things much more precious. We had other matters to mind besides 
 seeing that stray dogs did not venture on to the Tower Green, that 
 dust did not get into (he cannons’ mouths, or that Grand Rounds 
 received proper salutes. Was not the Imperial Crown of England 
 in our keeping? Had we not to look after the Royal diadem, the 
 orb, the scepter, the Swords of Justice and of Mercy, and the great 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 197 
 
 parcel-gilt Salt Cellar that is molded in the likeness of the White 
 Tower itself? Did it not behoove us to keep up a constant care and 
 watchfulness, lest among the curious strangers and country cousins 
 who trudged to the Jewel House to see all that glittering'and golden 
 finery, and who gave us shillings to exhibit them, there might be 
 lurking some Rogue as dishonest and as desperate as that Colonel 
 Blood • who so nearly succeeded in getting away with the crown 
 and other valuables in King Charles the Second’s time? Oh! I war¬ 
 rant you that we keyjt sharp eyes on the curious strangers and the 
 country cousins, and allowed them not to go too near the grate be¬ 
 hind which were those priceless baubles. 
 
 But another charge had we, I trow. At all times had this famous 
 fortress of the Tower of London been a place of hold for the King’s 
 prisoners. Felons, nor cutpurses, nor wantons suffered we indeed 
 in our precincts, nor gave we the hospitality of dungeons to; but of 
 state prisoners, noblemen and gentlemen in durance for High 
 Treason, or for other offenses against the Royal State and Preroga¬ 
 tive, had we always a plentiful store. Some of the greatest Barons 
 —the proudest names in England—have pined their lives away with¬ 
 in the Tower’s inexorable walls. Walls! why, there were little 
 dungeons and casemates built in the very thickness of those huge 
 mural stones. In ancient days I have heard that foul deeds were 
 common in the fortress—that princes were done to Death here— 
 notably the two poor Royal infants that the wicked Richard of 
 Gloucester bid his hell-hounds smother and bury at the foot of the 
 stairs in that building which has ever since gone by the name of 
 the Bloody Tower. So, too, I am afraid it is a true bill that 
 Torture was in the bad old days indiscriminately used toward both 
 gentle and simple in some gloomy underground places in this said 
 Tower. 1 have heard of a Sworn Tormentor and his assistants, 
 whose fiendish task it Was to torture poor creatures’ souls out of 
 their miserable bodies, and of a Chirurgeon who had to watch lest 
 the agonies used upon ’em should be too much for human endur¬ 
 ance, and so, putting ’em out of their misery, rob the headsman of 
 his due, the scaffold of its prey, and the vile mobile that congregate 
 at public executions of their raree show. Of “ Scavenger’s Daugh¬ 
 ters,” Racks. Thumbscrews, iron boots, and wedges, and other 
 horrible engines of pain, I have heard many dismal tales told; but 
 all that had long fallen into disuse before my time. The last per¬ 
 sons tortured within the Tower walls were, I believe, Colonel Faux 
 (Guido) and his confederates, for their most abominable Gunpowder 
 Plot, which was to put an end to the Protestant Religion and the 
 
198 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 illustrious House of Stuart at one fell blow; but happily came to 
 nothing, through the prudence of my Lord Monteagle, and the 
 well-nigh superhuman sagacity of his Majesty King James the 
 First. Guy and his accomplices they tortured horribly; and did 
 not even give ’em the honor of being beheaded on Tower Hill— 
 they being sent away as common traitors to Old Palace Yard (close 
 to the scene of their desperately meditated, but fortunately abortive 
 crime), and there half-hanged, cut down while yet warm, disem¬ 
 boweled, their Hearts and Inwards taken out and burned by Gregory 
 (that was hangman then, and that, as Gregory Brandon, had a coat- 
 of-arms given him as a gentleman, through a fraud practiced upon 
 Garter King), and their mangled bodies—the heads severed—cut 
 into quarters, well coated with pitch, and stuck upon spikes over 
 London Bridge, east Portcullis, Ludgate, Temple Bar, and other 
 places of public resort, according to the then bloody-minded cus¬ 
 tom, and the statute in that case made and provided. But after 
 Colonel Guido Faux, Rack, Thumbscrews, boots, and wedges, and 
 Scavenger’s daughters fell into a decline, from which, thank God, 
 they have never, in this fair realm of England, recovered. I ques¬ 
 tion even if the Jesuit Garnett and his fellows, albeit most bar¬ 
 barously executed, were tortured in prison; but it is certain that 
 when Felton killed the Duke of Bucks at Portsmouth, and was 
 taken red-handed, the Courtiers, Parasites, and other cruel persons 
 that were about the King, would fain have had him racked; but 
 the public—which by this time had begun lo inquire pretty sharply 
 about Things of State—cried out that Felton should not be tor¬ 
 mented (their not loving the Duke of Bucks too much may have 
 been one reason for their wishing some degree of leniency to be 
 shown to the assassin), and the opinion of the Judges being taken, 
 those learned Persons, in full court of King’s Bench assembled, de¬ 
 cided that Torture was contrary to the Law of England, and could 
 not legally be used upon any of the King's subjects howsoever 
 guilty he might have been. 
 
 But I confess that when I first took up service as a Tower Warder, 
 and gazed upon those horrible implements of Man’s cruelty and 
 hard-heartedness collected in the Armory, I imagined with dismay 
 that, all rusty as they had grown, there might be occasions for them 
 to be used upon the persons of unfortunate captives. For I had 
 lived much abroad, and knew what devilish freaks were often 
 indulged in by arbitrary and unrestrained power. But my com¬ 
 rades soon put my mind at ease, and pointed out to me that few, 
 very few of these instruments of Anguish were of English use or 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 199 
 
 origin at all; but that the great majority of these wicked things 
 were from among the spoils of the Great Armada, when the proud 
 Spaniards, designing to invade this free hippy country with their 
 monstrous Flotilla of Caravels and Galleons, provided numerous 
 tools of Torture for despitefully using the Heretics (as they called 
 them) who would not obey the unrighteous mandates of a foreign 
 despot, or submit to the domination (usurped) of the Bishop of 
 Rome. And so tender indeed of the bodies of the King’s prisoners 
 had the Tower authorities become that the underground dungeons 
 were now never used, commodious apartments being provided for 
 the noblemen and gentlemen in hold; and a pretty penny they had 
 to pay for their accommodation; live guineas a day, besides warder 
 and gentlemen jailers’ fees, being the ordinary charge for a noble¬ 
 man, and half that sum for a knight and private esquire. Besides 
 this, the Lieutenant of the Tower had a gratuity of thirty pounds 
 from every peer that came into his custody, and twenty pounds for 
 every gentleman writing himself Avmiqer , and in default could 
 seize upon their cloaks; whence.arose a merry saying “ Best go to 
 the Tower like a peeled carrot than come forth like one.” 
 
 There were even no chains used in this state prison; of fetters 
 and manacles w T e had indeed a plenitude, all of an antique pattern 
 and covered with rust; but no irons such as are put upon their 
 prisoners by vulgar jailers in Newgale and elsewhere. I have 
 heard say that when poor Counselor Layer, that w T as afterward 
 hanged, drawn, and quartered as a Jacobite, and his head stuck 
 atop of Temple Bar hard by his own chambers—was first brought 
 for safer custody to the Tower, breakings out of Newgate having 
 been common, the Government sent down word that, as a deep- 
 dyed conspirator and desperate rebel, he was to be double-ironed. 
 Upon this Mr. Lieutenant flies into a mighty heat, and taking boat 
 to Whitehall, wnits on Mr. Secretary at the Cockpit, and tells him 
 plainly that such an indignity toward his Majesty’s prisoners in the 
 Tower was never heard of, that no such base modes of coercion as 
 chains or bilboes had -ever been known in use since the reign of 
 King Charles I., and that the King’s w T arders were there to see 
 that the prisoners did not attempt Evasion. To which Mr. Sec¬ 
 retary answered, with a grim smile, that notwithstanding all the 
 keenness of the watch and ward, he had often heard of prisoners 
 escaping from durance in the Tower, notably mentioning the case 
 of my Lord Nithesdale, who escaped in his lady’s clothes; and 
 without more ado informed the Lieutenant that Counselor Layer 
 must be chained as directed, even if the chains had to be forged ex- 
 
200 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 pressly for him. Upon which Mr. Lieutenant took a very surly 
 leave of the Great Man, cursing him as he comes down the steps for 
 a Tliief-catclier and Tyburn purveyor, and hied him to Newgate, 
 where he borrowed a set of double-irons from the Peachum or 
 Lockit, or whatever the fellow's name was that kept that Den of 
 Thieves. And even then, when they had gotten llie chains to the 
 Tower, none of the warders knew how to put them on, or to sully 
 their fingers with such hangman’s work; and so they were fain to 
 have a blacksmith with his anvil, and a couple of turnkeys down 
 from Newgate, to rivet the chains upon the poor gentleman’s limbs; 
 he being at the time half dead of a Strangury; but so cruel was 
 justice in those days. 
 
 When I first came to the Tower we had but few prisoners; for it 
 was before Ihe Great Rebellion of the ’Forty-five; and for a few 
 years previous the times had been after a manner quiet. Now and 
 then some notorious Jacobite, Seminarist, or seditious person, was 
 taken up; but he was rarely of sufficient importance to be confined 
 in our illustrious Prison, and was either had to Newgate, or else 
 confined in the lodgings of a King’s Messenger till his examinations 
 ■were over, and he was either committed or Enlarged. These Mes¬ 
 sengers kept, in those days, a kind of Sponging Houses for High 
 Treason, where Gentlemen Traitors who were nDt in very great 
 peril lived, as it were, at an ordinary, and paid much dearer for 
 their meat and lodging than though they had been at some bailiff’s 
 lock-up in Cursitor Street, or Tooke’s Court, or the Pied Bull in 
 the Borough. We had, it is true, for a long time a Romanist 
 Bishop that was suspected of being in correspondence with St. 
 Germain’s, and lay for a long time under detention. He was a 
 merry old soul, and most learned man; would dine very gayly with 
 Mr. Lieutenant, or his deputy, or the Fort Major, swig his bottle of 
 claret, and play a game of tric-trac afterward; and it was some¬ 
 thing laughable to watch the quiet cunning way in which he would 
 seek to Convert us Warders who had the guarding of him to the 
 Romanist faith. They let him out at last .upon something they 
 called a Nolle prosequi of the Attorney-General, or some such-like 
 dignitary of the law—which nolle prosequi I take to be a kind of 
 habeas corpus for gentlefolks. He was as liberal to us when he 
 departed as his means would allow; for I believe that save his cas¬ 
 sock, his breviary, a gold cross round his neck, and episcopal ring, 
 and a portmantel full of linen, the old gentleman had neither goods 
 nor chattels in the wide world; indeed, we heard that the Lieuten¬ 
 ant lent him, on leaving, a score of gold x>ieces, for friendship’s sake, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 201 
 
 to distribute among us. But lie went away—to foreign parts, I 
 infer—with flying colors; for everybody loved the old Bishop, all 
 Romanist and suspected Jacobite as he was. 
 
 Then came that dreadful era of rebellion of which I have spoken, 
 and we Tower Warders found that our holiday time was over. 
 "Whilst the war still raged in Scotland, scarcely a day passed with¬ 
 out some person of consequence being brought either by water to 
 Traitor’s Gate, or by a strong escort of Horse and Foot to the 
 Tower Postern; not for active participation in the Rebellion, but as 
 a measure of safety, and to prevent worse harm being done. And 
 many persons of consequence, trust me, saved their heads by being 
 laid by the heels for a little time while the hue and cry was afoot, 
 and Habeas Corpus suspended. Fast bind, safe find, is a true 
 proverb; and you may thank your stars, even if your enemies have 
 for a time bound you with chains and with links of iron, if, when 
 the stormy season has gone past, you find your head si ill safe on 
 your shoulders. Now it was a great Lord who was brought to the 
 Tower, and from whom Mr. Lieutenant did not forget to claim 
 his thirty-pound fee on entrance; for “here to-day, gone to¬ 
 morrow,” he reasoned, and so shot his game as soon as he had 
 good parview of the same. Now it was some Cheshire or Lanca¬ 
 shire Squire, snatched aw T ay from his Inn, at the Hercules’ Pillars, 
 or the Catherine Wheel in the Borough, as being vehemently sus¬ 
 pected of Jacobitism. These gentlemen mostly took their captivity 
 in a very cheerful and philosophical manner. They w’ould call for a 
 round of spiced beef, a tankard of ale, and a pipe of tobacco, so 
 soon as ever they were fairly bestowed in their lodgings; drink to 
 the King—taking care not to let us know whether his name began 
 with a G or a J, with many jovial ha-has, and were as happy as the 
 day was long, so it seemed to us, if they had but a pack of cards 
 and a volume of the Gentleman’s Recreation, or Academy of Field 
 Sports. What bowls of punch, too, they would imbibe o’ nights, 
 and what mad carouses they would have! Such roaring Squires as 
 these would have been much better bestowed in the Messengers’ 
 Houses; but these were all full, likewise the common jails; nay, 
 the debtors’ prisons and vile sponging-houses were taken up by 
 Government for the temporary incarceration of suspected persons. 
 
 How well do I remember the dreadful amazement and consterna. 
 tion which broke over this city when the news came that the Prince 
 —I mean the Pretender—had utterly routed the King’s troops com¬ 
 manded by Sir John Cope at Prestonpans; that the Misguided 
 Young Man had entered Edinburgh at the head of a furious mob 
 
202 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 of Higlilandmen, whose preposterous style of dress 1 never could 
 abide, and who in those days we Southrons held as being very little 
 better than painted Savages; that the ladies of the Scottish capital 
 had all mounted the white cockades, and were embroidering scarfs 
 for the Pretender and his officers, and that the Castle of Edin¬ 
 burgh alone held out ’gainst this monstrous uprising to destroy 
 authority! But how much greater was the Dismay in London when 
 we learned that the Rebels, not satisfied with their conquests in his 
 Majesty’s Scottish Dominions, had been so venturesome as to in¬ 
 vade England itself, and had actually advanced so far as the trad¬ 
 ing town of Derby! Then did those who had been long, albeit ob¬ 
 scurely, suspected of Jacobitism, come forth from their lurking 
 holes and corners, and almost openly avow their preference for the 
 House of Stuart. Then did very many respectable persons, formerly 
 thought to be excellently well affected toward King George’s person 
 and Government, become waverers, or prove themselves the Turn¬ 
 coats they had always, in secret, been, and seditiously prophesy 
 that the days of the Hanoverian dynasty were numbered. Then 
 did spies and traitors abound, together with numbers of alarming 
 rumors, that the Chevalier had advanced as far as Barnet on the 
 Great North Road; that his Majesty was about to convey himself 
 away to Hanover: that the Duke of Cumberland was dead; that 
 barrels of gunpowder had been discovered in the crypt beneath 
 Guildhall, and in the vaults of the Chapel Royal; that mutiny was 
 rife among the troops; that the Bank of England was about to 
 break; with sundry other distracting reports and noises. 
 
 Of course authority did all it could to reassure the public mind, 
 jessed in a most tempestuous manner as it was by conflicting ac¬ 
 counts. Authority bestirred itself to put down seditious meetings 
 by proclamation, and to interdict residence in the capital to all 
 known Papists; whereby several most estimable Catholic gentle¬ 
 men (as many there be of that old Faith) were forced to leave their 
 Town Houses, and betake themselves to mean and inconvenient 
 dwellings in the country. The gates of Temple Bar were now 
 shut, on sudden alarms, two or three times a week; as though the 
 closing of these rotten portals could in any way impede the progress 
 of rebellion, or do anything more Ilian further to hamper the already 
 choked-up progress of the streets. The Lord Mayor was mighty 
 busy calling out the Train-bands, and having them drilled in Moor- 
 fiekls, for the defense of the City; and a mighty fine show those 
 ciitzen soldiers would have made no doubt to the bare-legged Higli- 
 laudmen, had they come that way. The Guards at all the posts at 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 203 
 
 the Court end of the town were doubled, and we at the Tower put 
 ourselves into a perfect state of defense. Cannon were run out; 
 matches kept lighted; whole battalions maintained under arms; 
 munitions and provisions of war laid in, as though to withstand 
 a regular siege; draw-bridges pulled up and portcullises lowered, 
 with great clanking of chains and gnashing of old iron teeth; and 
 rich sport it was to see those old rust-eaten engines once more 
 brought into gear again. 
 
 But, as the Wise Man saith that a soft answer turneth away 
 wrath, so do we often find that a merry word spoken in season will 
 do more than all your Flaming Ordinances and Terrific Denuncia¬ 
 tions of Fire and Sword. And although at this time (beginning of 
 the year 1746) authority very properly exerted itself to procure 
 obedience to the constitution, by instilling Awe into men’s minds, 
 and did breathe nothing in its official documents but heading, 
 hanging, and quartering, with threats of bombardment, free quar¬ 
 ters, drum-head courts-martial, chains, gags, fines, imprisonment, 
 and sequestration—yet I question whether so much good was done 
 by these toward the stability of the cause of the Protestant Religion 
 and King George, or so much harm to that of the Pretender, 
 Popery, brass money, and wooden shoes, as by a little series of 
 Pamphlels put forth by the witty Mr. Henry Fielding, a writer of 
 plays and novels then much in vogue; but a sad loose fish, although 
 he afterward, as I am told, did good service to the State as one of 
 the justices of peace for Middlesex, and helped to put down many 
 notorious gangs of murderers, highwaymen, and footpads infesting 
 the metropolis. This Mr. Fielding—whom his intimates used to 
 call Harry, and whom I have often seen lounging in the Temple 
 Gardens, or about the gaming-houses in St. James’s Si reet, and whom 
 I have often met, I grieve to say, in the very worst of company 
 under the Piazzas in Covent Garden much overtaken in liquor, and 
 his fine Lace clothes and curled periwig all besmirched and be¬ 
 wrayed after a carouse—took up the Hanoverian cause very hotly— 
 having perhaps weighty reasons for so doing—and, making the 
 very best use of his natural gifts and natural weapons, namely, a 
 very strong and caustic humor, with most keen and trenchant 
 satire, did infinite harm to the Pretender’s side by laughing at him 
 and his adherents. He published, probably at the charges of au¬ 
 thority—for he was a needy gentleman, always in love, in liquor, or 
 in debt—a paper called the “ True Patriot,” in which the Jacobites 
 were most mercilessly treated. Notably do I recall a sort of sham 
 diary or almanac, purporting to be written by an honest trades- 
 
204 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 man of tlie City during the predicted triumph of the Pretender, 
 and in which such occurrences were noted down as London being 
 at the mercy of Highlanders and Friars; Walbrook church and 
 many others being razed to the ground; Father O'Blaze, a Domin¬ 
 ican, exulting over it; Queen Annes’s statue at Paul’s taken away, 
 and a large Crucifix erected in its place; the Bank, South-Sea, 
 India Houses, etc., converted into convents; Father Macdagger, the 
 Poyal confessor, preaching at St. James’s, three Anabaptists hung 
 at Tyburn, attended by their or dinar}", Mr. Maclienly (a grotesque 
 name for the ranting fellow who was wont to be known as Orator 
 Henley); Father Poignardini, an Italian Jesuit, made Privy Seal; 
 four Heretics, burned in Smitlifield; the French Embassador made 
 a Duke, with precedence; Cape Breton given back to the French, 
 with Gibraltar and Port Mahon to the Spaniards; the Pope’s nuncio 
 entering London, and the Lord Mayor and Aldermen kissing his 
 feet; an office opened in Drury Lane for the sale of papistical 
 Pardons and Indulgences; with the like prophecies calculated to 
 arouse the bigotry of the lower and middle orders, and to lash them 
 into a religious as well as a political frenzy. For a cry of “No 
 Popery ” has ever acted upon a true-born Englishman as a red rag 
 does on a bull. Perhaps the thing that went best down of all Mr. 
 Fielding’s drolleries, and tickled the taste of the town most amaz¬ 
 ingly, was the passage where he made his honest London trades¬ 
 man enter in his diary to this effect: “ My little boy Jacky taken ill 
 of the itch. He had been on the parade with his godfather the day 
 before to see the Life Guards, and had just touched one of their 
 plaids.” One of the King’s Ministers said long afterward that this 
 passage touching the itch was worth two regiments of horse to the 
 cause of government. At this distance of time one doesn’t see 
 much wit in a scurrilous lampoon, of which the gist was to taunt 
 one’s neighbors with being afflicted with a disease of the skin; and, 
 indeed, the lower ranks of English were, in those days, anything 
 but free from similar ailments, and, in London at least, were in 
 their persons and manners inconceivably filthy. But ’tis astonish¬ 
 ing what a mark you can make with a coarse jest, if you only go 
 far enough, and forswear justice and decency. 
 
 Strange but true is it to remark that, in the midst of all such 
 tremendous convulsions as wars, battles, sieges, rebellions, and 
 other martial conflagrations, men and women and children do eat 
 and drink, and love and marry, and beget other babes of humanity, 
 and at last Die and turn to dust, precisely as though the world—or 
 rather the concerns of that gross Orb—were all going on in their 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 205 
 
 ordinary jog-trot manner. Although from day to day we people in 
 London knew not whether before the sun set the dreaded pibroch 
 of the Highland Clans might not be heard at Charing Cross, and 
 the barbarian rout of Caterans that formed the Prince— I mean the 
 Chevalier—I mean the Pretender’s Army, scattered all about the 
 City, plundering our Chattels, and ravaging our fair English 
 homes; although, for aught men knew, another month, nay another 
 week, might see King George the Second toppled from his Throne, 
 and King James the Third installed, with his Royal Highness 
 Charles Edward Prince of Wales as Regent; although it was but a 
 toss-up whether the Archbishop of Canterbury should not be ousted 
 from Lambeth by a Popish Prelate, and the whole country reduced 
 to Slavery and Bankruptcy—yet to those who lived quiet lives, and 
 kept civil tongues in their heads, all things went on pretty much as 
 usual; and each day had its evil, and sufficient for the day was the 
 evil thereof. That the Highlandmen were at Derby did not prevent 
 the Hostess of 1 he Stone Kitchen—that famous Tavern in the Tower 
 —from bringing in one’s reckoning and insisting on payment. 
 That there was consternation at St. James’s, with the King medi¬ 
 tating flight and the Royal Family in tears and swooning, did not 
 save the little school-boy a whipping if he knew not his lesson after 
 morning call. It will be so, I suppose, until the end of the w r orld. 
 We must needs eat and drink, and feel heat and cold, and marry or 
 be given in marriage, whatsoever party prevail, and whatsoever 
 King carries crown and scepter; and however dreadful the crisis, 
 we must have our Dinners, and fleas will bite us, and corns pinch 
 our Feet. So while all the Public were talking about the Rebellion, 
 all the world went nevertheless to the Playhouses, where they played 
 loyal Pieces and sung “ God save great George our King ” every 
 night; as also to Balls, Ridottos, Clubs, Masquerades, Drums, 
 Routs, Concerts, and Pharaoh parties. They read Novels and 
 flirted their fans, and powdered and patched themselves, and dis¬ 
 tended their coats with hoops, just as though there were no such 
 persons in the world as the Duke of Cumberland and Charles Ed¬ 
 ward Stuart. And in like manner we Warders in the Tower, 
 though ready for any martial emergency that might turn up, were 
 by no means unnecessarily afeard or distraught with anxiety; but 
 cat and drank our fill, joked the pretty girls who came to see the 
 shows in the Tower, and trailed our halberts in our usual jovial 
 devil-me-care manner, as true Cavaliers, Warders in the service of 
 his Majesty the King should do. 
 
 By and by came the news of Stirling and Falkirk, after the dig- 
 
206 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 astrous retreat of the Highlandmen back into Scotland. And then 
 happened that short but tremendous fight of Drummossie Moor, 
 commonly called the Battle of Culloden, "where claymores and 
 Lochaber axes clashed and glinted for the last time against English 
 broadswords and bayonets. After this was what was called the 
 pacification of the Highlands, meaning that the Duke and his 
 dragoons devastated all before them with fire and sword; and then 
 “ retributive justice ” had its turn, and the w T ork of the Tower 
 Warders began in earnest. 
 
 Poor cieatures! theirs was a hard fate. At Carlisle, at Man¬ 
 chester, at Tyburn and at Kennington Common, London, how 
 many unhappy persons suffered death in its most frightful form, 
 to say nothing of the unspeakable ignominy of being dragged on a 
 hurdle to the place of execution and mangled in the most horrible 
 manner by the Hangman’s butcherly knife, merely because they 
 held that King James, and not King George, was the rightful 
 sovereign of these realms! Is there in all History—at least in so 
 much as it touches our sentiments and feelings—a more lamentable 
 and pathetic narration than the story of Jemmy Dawson ? This 
 young man, Mr. James Dawson by name—for by the endearing 
 aggravative of Jemmy he is only known in Mr. William Shen- 
 stone’s charming ballad (the gentleman that lived at the Leasowes, 
 and writ “ The Schoolmistress,” among other pleasing pieces, and 
 spent so much money upon Ornamental Gardening)—this Mr. 
 James Dawson, I say, was the son of highly reputable parents, 
 dwelling, by some, ’ tis said, in the County of Lancashire, by others, 
 in the County of Middlesex. At all events, his father was a Gentle¬ 
 man of good estate, who strove hard to bring up his son.in the ways 
 of piety and virtue. But the youth was wild and froward, and 
 would not listen to the sage Counsels that w T ere continually given 
 him. After the ordinary grammar-school education, during which 
 course he much angered his teachers—less by his reckless and dis¬ 
 obedient conduct than by his perverse flinging away of his oppor¬ 
 tunities, and manifest ignoring of the parts with which he had been 
 gifted by Heaven—he was sent to the University of Oxford to com¬ 
 plete the curriculum of studies necessary to make him a complete 
 gentleman. And I have heard, indeed, that he was singularly en¬ 
 dowed with the properties requisite for the making of that very 
 rare animal—that he was quick, ready, generous, warm-hearted, 
 skillful, and accomplished—that he rode, and drove, and shot, and 
 fenced, and swam, and fished in that marvelously finished manner 
 only possible to those who seem to have been destined by a capri- 
 
CAPTAIN - DAKGEKOUS. 
 
 207 
 
 cions fate to do so well that which thej T have never learned to do. 
 And at college, who but Jemmy Dawson—who but he? For a 
 wicked prank, or a mad carouse; for a trick to be played on a 
 proctor, or a kiss to be taken by stealth—who such a Master of 
 Arts as our young Undergraduate? But at his lectures and chapels 
 and repetitions he was (although always with a vast natural capac¬ 
 ity) an inveterate Idler; and he did besides so continually violate 
 and outrage the college rules and discipline, that his Superiors, 
 after repeated admonitions, gatings, impositions, and rustications 
 (which are a kind of temporary banishment), were at last fain 
 solemnly to expel him from the University. Upon which his father 
 discarded him from his house, vowing that he would leave his 
 broad acres (which were not entailed) to his Nephew, and bidding 
 him go to the Devil, whither he accordingly proceeded, but by a 
 very leisurely and circuitous route. But the young Rogue had 
 already made a more perilous journey than this, for he had fallen 
 in Love with a young Madame of exceeding Beauty, and of large 
 Fortune in her own right, the daughter of a neighboring Baronet. 
 And she, to her sorrow, poor soul, became as desperately enamored 
 of this young Scapegrace, and would have run away with him, I 
 have no doubt, had he asked her, but for a spark of honor which 
 Still remained in that reckless heart, and forbade his linking the 
 young girl, all good and pure as she was, to so desperate a life as 
 his. And so he went wandering for a time up and down the 
 country, swaggering with his boon companions, and pawning his 
 Father’s credit in whatsoever inns and pothouses he came unto, 
 until, in the beginning of that fatal year ’46, he must needs find 
 himself at Manchester without a Shilling in his pocket, or the 
 means of raising one. It was then the time that the town of Man¬ 
 chester had been captured, in the Pretender’s interest, by a Scots 
 Sergeant and a Wench; and the notorious Colonel Towneley was 
 about raising the Manchester Regiment of Lancashire Lads to fight 
 for Prince Charlie. Desperate Jemmy Dawson enlisted under 
 Towneley: and soon, being a young fellow of good figure and shin¬ 
 ing talenls, was made a Captain. But the ill-fated Manchester Regi¬ 
 ment was ere long broken up; and Jemmy Dawson, with Colonel 
 Towneley himself, and many other of the officers, were captured. 
 They were all tried at the Assizes held after the Assizes at St. 
 Margaret’s Hill, Southwark; and James Dawson, being convicted 
 of high treason, was sentenced to the usual horrible punishment for 
 that offense. He was drawn on a hurdle to Kennington Common; 
 he was hanged, disemboweled, and quartered; but the young 
 
208 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Madame of whom I have spoken was true to him unto the last. 
 For many days following the sentence she vainly solicited his 
 pardon; hut finding all useless, she on the fatal morning (having 
 trimmed a shroud for him overnight, in which, poor Soul, his 
 mangled remains were not to rest), followed him in a Mourning, 
 Coach to Kennington Common. She saw the Dreadful Tragedy 
 played out to its very last Act; and then she just turned on her 
 Side in the Coach, and with a soft murmur, breathing Jemmy’s 
 Name, she Died. Surely a story so piteous as this needs no com¬ 
 ment. And by Heaven it is True! 
 
 CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH. 
 
 REBELLION IS MADE AN END OF, AND AFTER SOME FURTHER 
 SERVICE "WITH HIS MAJESTY I GO INTO BUSINESS ON MY OWN 
 ACCOUNT. 
 
 Memorandum. —About a year before the Rebellion, as the Earl of 
 Kilmarnock was one day walking in his Garden, he was suddenly 
 alarmed with a fearful Shriek, which, while he was reflecting on 
 with Astonishment, was soon after repeated. On this he went into 
 the House, and inquired of his Lady and all the Servants, but 
 could not discover from whom or whence the Cry proceeded; but 
 missing his Lady’s Woman, he was informed that she was gone 
 into an Upper Room to inspect some Linen. Whereupon the Earl 
 and his Lady went up and opened the Door, which was only latched. 
 But no sooner did the Gentlewoman within set eyes on his Lord¬ 
 ship’s face than she fainted away. When, proper aid being given 
 to her, she was brought to herself, they asked her the meaning of 
 what they had heard and seen. She replied, that while she sat 
 sewing some Linen she had taken up to mend, the Door opened of 
 itself, and a Bloody Head entered the Room, and rolled upon the 
 floor; that this dreadful Sight had made her cry out, and then the 
 Bloody Head disappeared; that in a few Moments she saw the same 
 frightful Apparilion again, on which she repeated her Shrieks; and 
 at the third time she fainted away, but. was just recovered when 
 she saw his Lordship coming in, which had made the Impression 
 on her they had been witness of. 
 
 This Relation given by the affrighted Gentlewoman was only 
 laughed at and ridiculed as the Effect of Spleen Vapors, or the 
 Frenzy of a deluded Imagination, and was thought no more of, till 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 209 
 
 one Night, when the Earl of Kilmarnock, sitting round a Bowl by 
 the Winter Fire with my Lord Galloway—and it is at such a Time 
 that men are most prone to fall-to telling of Ghost Stories—and their 
 Lordships’ conversation turning on Specters and Apparitions, the 
 vulgar notions of which they were deriding, the terrible tale of the 
 Bloody Head was brought up, and then dismissed as the idle fancy 
 of a Hoity-toity Tirewoman. But after Kilmarnock had engaged 
 in the Rebellion, and Lord Galloway was told of it, he instantly 
 recollected this Story, and said, ‘ ‘ I will wager a dozen Magnums of 
 Claret, and my best silver-laced Justaucorps, that my Lord Kilmar¬ 
 nock will lose his Head. 0 
 
 Nobody took his bet, not daring thus to trifle with the lives of the 
 Quality; but that Scots Lord lost his Head, notwithstanding; and I 
 saw it cut off on Tower Hill in the latter summer of the year ’46. 
 
 This story of the Bloody Head was common Talk among us Ward¬ 
 ers at the time—who were full as superstitious as oilier Folks, you 
 may be sure. Many such Legends are there, too, current of Per¬ 
 sons who were to die Violent Heaths at the hands of the Public Ex¬ 
 ecutioner, being forewarned many years before of their impending 
 Fate. And sometimes hath the Monition come nearer to the 
 Catastrophe, as in the case of K. C. the 1st., who, entering West¬ 
 minster.Hall at that Unnatural Assize presided over by Bradshaw, 
 the Gold Head fell off his Walking-Staff, and rolled on the Pave¬ 
 ment of the Hall among the Soldiers; nor, when it was restored to 
 him, could any Efforts of his make it remain on. Also it is said of 
 my Lord Derwentwater, that the last time he went a-liunting in the 
 north, before he joined the Old Chevalier St. George, his 
 whippers-in unearthed a litter of Fox-cubs, every one of which Ver¬ 
 min had been born without Heads. And as well authenticated is 
 it, that when my Lord Balmerino (that suffered on Tower Hill with 
 the Earl of Kilmarnock) was coming back condemned to Death from 
 his Trial before his Peers at Westminster, his Lordship being of a 
 merry, Epicurean temper, and caring no more for Death than a 
 Sailor does for a wet Shirt, stopped the coach at a Fruiterer’s at 
 Charing Cross, where he must needs ask Mr. Lieutenant’s Attend¬ 
 ant to buy him some Honey-Blobbs, which is the Scottish name for 
 ripe Goseberries. 
 
 “And King Geordie maun pay for the bit fruitie; for King 
 James’s auld soldier has nae siller of his ain save twa guineas for 
 Jock Headsman,” quoth he in his jocular manner, meaning that 
 those about him must pay for the Gooseberries; for indeed this 
 Lord was very poor, and I have heard was, when in town, so much 
 
210 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 driven as to borrow money from the Man who keeps the Tennis- 
 court in James Street, Haymarket. 
 
 Well, it so happened that the Season was a backward one; and 
 the Fruiterer sends his duty out to his Lordship, saying that he has 
 no ripe Gooseberries, but that of green ones he has a store, to which 
 that unfortunate Nobleman is heartily welcome. 
 
 “ I’ll e’en try one,” says my Lo.xd; and from a Punnet they 
 brought him he picks a Green Goseberry; when, wonderful to 
 relate, it swells in his hand to the bigness at least of an Egg-plum, 
 and turns the color of Blood. “ The de’il’s in the Honey Blobb,” 
 cries my Lord in a tiff, and flings it out of window, where it made a 
 great red stain on the pavement. 
 
 And this the Warder who stood by, and the Messenger who was 
 in the coach itself, told me. 
 
 Less need is t here to speak of such strange adventures as my Lady 
 Nithisdale’s child (that was born soon after her Lord’s escape from 
 the Tower, in which, with such a noble valor and self-sacrifice, she 
 aided him) being brought into the World with a broad Ax figured, 
 as though by a Limner, on its Neck; or of the Countess of Crolnar- 
 tie’s infant (she likewise Lay-in while the Earl was under sentence) 
 having a thin red line or thread right round its neck. These things 
 are perhaps to be accounted more as Phenomena of nature than as 
 ominous prognostications, and I so dismiss ’em. But it is worth 
 while to note that, for all the good authority we have of Lord 
 Kilmarnock’s Waiting-woman being affrighted by the vision of a 
 Bloody Head, the story itself, or at least something germane to it, is 
 as old as the Hills. During my travels in Sweden, I was told of a 
 very strange mischance that had happened to one of their Kings 
 who was named Charles;—but Charles the what, I do confess I 
 know not;—who walking one evening in his garden, saw all at once 
 a Wing of the Palace, that had been shut up and deserted for 
 Twenty years, all blazing with Light from the Windows, as for 
 some great Festival. And his Majesty, half suspecting this might 
 be some Masquerading prank on the part of the Court Ladies, and 
 half afraid that there was mischief in it, drew his Sword, and call¬ 
 ing upon a brace of his Gentlemen to follow him, stave-in a door 
 and came into a Great Old Hall, that was the principal apartment 
 in the said Wing. And at the upper End, where the ancient Throne 
 of his ancestors was long since gone to Rags and Tatters, and 
 abandoned to Dust and Cobwebs, he saw r , sitting on the chair of 
 Estate, and crowned, a little child that was then but a boy—the 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 211 
 
 Duke of Sudermania. And lo! as lie gazed upon him a Dreadful 
 Ball, that seemed fashioned in the similitude of his own Head, 
 showed itself under the Throne, rolled down the steps, and so came 
 on to his very Feet, where it stopped, splashing his Boots unto the 
 very ankle with Gore. The tale of the Bloody Boots, as ’tis called, 
 is still quite familiar to every Nurse in Sweden; but I never heard 
 how it ended, or whether King Charles had his Head cut off in the 
 Long run; but every Swede will swear to the Story: and as for the 
 Boots, I have heard that they are to be seen, with the dark-brown 
 stains of the Blood still upon ’em, in a glass case at the House of 
 one Mr. Herdstrom, who sells Aqua Vitae over the Milliner’s in 
 the Bogbindersgade at Stockholm. 
 
 ’Twas in the summer of 1747 that I put off my Warder’s dress 
 for good and all, the Rebellion being by this time quite Dead and 
 crushed out; but before I laid down my halbert ’twas my duty to 
 assist at the crowning consummation of that disastrous Tragedy. 
 One of the Prime Traitors in the Scottish risings had been, it is well 
 known, the notorious Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, of Castle Downie, 
 in Scotland, then come to be Eighty years old, and as atrocious an 
 old Villain as ever lived, but so cunning that he cheated the Gal¬ 
 lows for three quarters of a century, and died like a Gentleman, by 
 the Ax, at last. He had been mixed up in every plot for the 
 bringing back of King James ever since the Old Chevalier’s Father 
 gave up the Ghost at St. Germain’s, yet had somehow managed to 
 escape scot-free from Attainder and Confiscation. Even in the 
 ’45, when he sent the Clan Fraser to join the Young Chevalier, he 
 tried his best to make his poor Son, the Master of Lovat (a very 
 virtuous and gallant young Gentleman), the scapegoat for his mis¬ 
 deeds, playing Fast and Loose between France and the Jacobites on 
 one side, and the Lord Justice Clerk and the King’s Government 
 on the other. But Justice had him on the hip at last, and the old 
 Fox was caught. They brought him to London by Easy Stages, as 
 he was, or pretended to be, mighty Infirm; and while he was rest¬ 
 ing at an Inn at St. Alban’s, Mr. Hogarth the Painter (whom I have 
 seen many a time smoking a pipe and making Caricatures of the 
 Company at the Tavern he used—the Bedford Head, Maiden Lane,. 
 Covent Garden: a skillful Draughtsman, this Mr. Hogarth, but very 
 Uppish and Impudent in his Tone; for I remember that he once 
 called me Captain Compound, seeing, as the fellow said, that I was 
 made up of three—Captain Bobadil, Captain Macheatli, and Cap¬ 
 tain Kya)—this Mr. II. went down to St. Alban’s, and took a pict¬ 
 ure of the old Lord, as he sat in his great chair, counting the 
 
212 . 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 strength of the Scottish clans on liis fingers. ’Twas afterward 
 graved on copper, and had a prodigious sale. 
 
 Monday, March 9th, began this Lord’s Trial, very Grand and 
 Stately, which took place in Westminster Hall, fitted up anew for 
 the occasion, with the Throne, and chairs for the Prince and the 
 Duke, brave in Velvet and Gold, Scarlet benches for the Peers, gal¬ 
 leries for Ladies and Foreign Embassadors, boxes for the Lawyers 
 and the Managers of the House of Commons that preferred the Im¬ 
 peachment, and a great railed platform, that was half like a Scaffold 
 itself, for the Prisoner. So we Warders, and a Strong Guard of 
 Horse Grenadiers and Foot-Soldiers, brought him down from the 
 Tower to Westminster, Mr. Fowler, the Gentleman Jailer, attend¬ 
 ing with the Ax; but the Edge thereof turned away from his 
 Lordship. The Crown Lawyers, Sir William Yonge, Sir Dudley 
 Rider, and Sir John Strange, that were of Counsel for the Crown, 
 opened against him in a very bitter manner; at which the Old Sin¬ 
 ner grinned, and likened them to hounds fighting for a very tough 
 Morsel which was scarce worth the Tearing. Then he plagues the 
 Lord Steward for permission for Counsel to be granted to him to 
 speak on his behalf, which by law could not be granted, and for a 
 short-hand writer to take minutes, which, after some delay, was 
 allowed. One Scliield, that was the first Witness called, deposing 
 that Lord Lovat made one of a company of gentlemen who in 1740 
 drank healths and sung catches, such as “ Confusion to the White 
 Horse ” (meaning the heraldic cognizance of Hanover) “ and all his 
 generation.” and 
 
 “ When Jemmy comes o’er, 
 
 We shall have blood and blows galore,” 
 
 my Lord cries out upon him as a'False Villain and Perjured Rascal. 
 And was thereupon admonished by the Lord Steward to more de¬ 
 corous behavior. Item: that he laid all the blame of the Frasers 
 rising upon his Son, saying with Crocodile Tears that he was not 
 the first who had an Undutiful Son; whereupon the young gentle 
 man cries out in natural Resentment that he would put the Saddle 
 on the right Horse. But this and many other charges were brought 
 home to him, and that he had long foregathered with the Pretender, 
 of whom he spoke in a mock-tragedy style as “the young man 
 Thomas Kuli Khan.” When upon his defense, he told many Lies, 
 and strove to Butter their Lordships with specious Compliments 
 and strained Eulogies; but ’twould not serve. The Lords being re¬ 
 tired into their own chamber, and the question being put whether 
 
CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 213 
 
 Simon Lord Lovat was guilty of all the charges of high treason 
 brought against him, every one, laying his hand on his left breast, 
 and beginning with the Junior Baron, answered, “ Guilty, upon 
 my honor. ’ ’ And the next day, which was on the seventh of the 
 Trial, he was solemnly sentenced to Die as a Traitor; his Grace the 
 Lord Steward making a most affecting Speech, in which he re¬ 
 proached the Lord at the Bar with having unnaturally endeavored 
 to cast the blame of his malpractices on his son: Which,” said his 
 Grace, “ if it be true, is an impiety that makes one tremble; for, to 
 quote a wise author of antiquity, the love of our country includes 
 all other social affections, which,” he continued, “ shows a perfect 
 knowledge of human nature; for we see, when that is gone, even 
 the tenderest of all affections—-the parental—may be extinguished 
 with it.” Upon which Admirable Discourse, my fellow-Warder, 
 Miles Bandolier, fell a blubbering, and wiping his eyes with his 
 laced sleeve, whimpers that it is something, after all, to be a Lord 
 to be cast for Death in such Sweet Terms; for no Judge at the old 
 Bailey would think of wasting Sugared words upon the rogue he 
 sent to Tyburn. Which is true. 
 
 When all was done, and the Lord Steward had, by breaking his 
 Staff, declared the commission void, the Prisoner, with a grimace 
 twinkling about his wicked old mouth, bespoke his Majesty’s good 
 consideration, and, turning to the Managers of the Commons, cries 
 out, “ I hope, as ye are stout, ye will be merciful!” Upon which 
 one Mr. Polwhedlyan, that sat for a Cornish borough, and was a 
 very Fat Man, thinking himself directly concerned, shook his head 
 with great gravity of countenance. But the old Villain was but 
 Play-acting again, and could but see that the Game was up; for as 
 the Lords were filing back to the House, he calls after them, “ God 
 bless you all! I bid you an everlasting farewell; for in this place we 
 shall never meet again.” He said, “ God bless you!” with a kind 
 of fiendish yowl quite horrible to behold; and if ever man’s benison 
 sounded like a curse, it was that of bad old Lord Lovat. 
 
 A very sad sight at this memorable Trial was the Appearance and 
 Demeanor of J. Murray, of Broughton, Esq., that had been the 
 Chevalier’s Secretary—deepest of all in his Secrets, and most loved 
 and trusted by him. The unhappy man, to save liis Life, had be¬ 
 trayed his master and turned King’s Evidence, not only against 
 Lord Lovat, but many other unhappy Gentlemen. I never saw such 
 a shrinking, cowering, liang-dog figure as was made by this Person 
 in the Box; and burned with shame within myself to think that this 
 should be a Man of Gentle birth, and that had touched the hand of 
 
214 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 a King’s Son—Grandson, I mean. Accomplished scoundrel as 
 Lovat was, even a deeper abhorrence was excited by this Judas; 
 when he first stood up, the Lords, after gazing at him for a moment 
 with Contempt, turned their Backs upon him. The Crown Law¬ 
 yers treated him in the manner that an Old-Bailey Counselor would 
 cross-examine an approver in a case of Larceny; and as for the 
 Prisoner, he just shut his eyes while Murray was giving evidence; 
 and when he had finished turns to the Gentleman Jailer and asks, 
 with his eyes still shut, “ Is It goae?” meaning Judas. At which 
 there was some merriment. 
 
 ’Twas just a month after this trial, on April 9th, that Justice was 
 done upon Simon Fraser. He had eaten and drunk heartily, and 
 cracked many scurril Jokes while under sentence, and seemed not 
 to care Twopence whether he was Reprieved or Not. On the fatal 
 day he waked about three in the morning, and prayed, or pretended 
 to pray, with great Devotion. At all events, we Warders heard 
 him; and he made Noise enough. At five he rose and called for a 
 glass of Wine-and-Water, after drinking which he Read till seven. 
 Then he took some more Wine-and-Water, and at eight desired that 
 his Wig might be sent to the Barber to be combed out genteelly. 
 Also, among some knickknacks that he kept in a casket, he looked 
 out a Purse made somewhat in the Scotch fashion, of sealskin, to 
 hold the money which he desired to give to the Executioner. At 
 half after nine he breakfasted very heartily of Minced Veal, which 
 he hoped would not indigest, he facetiously remarked, ordering 
 Chocolate and Coffee for his Friends, whose Health he drank him¬ 
 self in Wine-and-Water. At eleven the Sheriffs sent to demand liis 
 Body, when he desired all present, save we who were at the Door, 
 to retire, that he might say a short prayer. Presently he calls ’em 
 again, saying, “ I am ready.” At the bottom of the first Pair of 
 Stairs from his Chamber, General Williamson, the Commandant of 
 the Garrison, invited him into his room to rest himself. He com¬ 
 plied most cheerfully, and in French desired that he might be 
 allowed to take leave of his Lady, and thank her for all the civilities 
 —for she had sent him victuals every day from her own Table, 
 dressed in the French fashion, which he much affected—which she 
 had shown him during his confinement. But the General told him, 
 likewise in French, that she was too much afflicted by his Lord¬ 
 ship’s Misfortunes to bear the shock of parting with him, and so 
 begged to be excused. Which means, that she did not care about 
 being pawed and mauled by this wicked Old Satyr in his last Mo¬ 
 ments; though, with the curiosity natural to her Sex, I saw with 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 215 
 
 my own eyes Madame Williamson, in a new Hoop and a grand silk 
 Calash, and with half a dozen of her gossips, at a window of the 
 House on Tower Hill hard by the Sheriff’s, and overlooking the 
 Scaffold. 
 
 Now we Warders closed up about him; and preceded and fol¬ 
 lowed by Foot Soldiers, he was conveyed in the Governor’s Coach 
 to the Outward Gate, and so delivered over to the Sheriffs, who. 
 giving a Receipt for his Bod} r , conveyed him in another coach (hired 
 for the two former Lords, Kilmarnock and Balmerino) to the said 
 House close to the Scaffold, in which (the House) was a room lined 
 with Black Cloth and hung with Sconces. 
 
 A gentleman of a Pious Mien here beginning to read a Prayer for 
 him, he bade me help him up that he might Kneel. One of the 
 Sheriffs then asked him if he would take a Glass of Wine; but he 
 said that he would prefer Negus. But there was no warm water, 
 unhappily, at hand, and says his Lordship, with his old Grin, “ The 
 warm bluid is nae tappit yet;” so they brought him a glass of 
 burned brandy-and-bitters, which h., drank with great Gusto. 
 
 He desired that all his Clothes should be given to his friends, to¬ 
 gether with his Corpse, remarking that for such end he would give 
 the Executioner Ten instead of Five guineas, which is the cus¬ 
 tomary Compliment. To each of the dozen Warders there present 
 he gave a Jacobus; to Miles Bandolier fifty shillings; and on myself, 
 who had specially attended on him ever since he was first brought 
 to the Tower, he bestowed Five gold pieces. As I pouched the 
 money, he clapped me on the shoulder, and says in his comical 
 way, 
 
 c ‘ I ^warrant, now, that beer and pudding would sit as easy under 
 thy laced jerkin were ‘ J. R.,’ and not ‘ G. R.,' blazoned on thee, 
 back and breast.” 
 
 But anon a light cloud passed over his visage, and I heard him 
 mutter to himself in the Scottish dialect, “Beef and pudding! ’tis 
 cauld kail for Fraser the morn.” 
 
 Then turning to the Sheriffs, he desired that his Head might be 
 received in a Cloth and put into the Coffin, the which they promised 
 him; likewise that (if it could be done without censure) the cere¬ 
 mony of holding up the Head at the Four Corners of the Scaffold 
 should be dispensed with. His Lordship seemed now indeed very 
 weak in his Body, albeit in no way disconcerted as to his Mind; 
 and, as Miles Bandolier and your Humble Servant escorted him up 
 the steps of the Scaffold, he looked around, and gazing upon the 
 immense concourse of people. 
 
216 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 “God save us!” says lie; “why should there he such a bustle 
 about taking off ane gray head, that can not get up Three Steps 
 without Three Bodies to support it!” 
 
 From which it will be seen that his Lordship had a Merry Humor 
 until the last. 
 
 No sooner was he on the fatal Platform than, seeing me (as he 
 condescended to think) much dejected, he claps me on the shoulder 
 again, saying, “ Cheer up thy heart, laddie in scarlet. I am not 
 afraid; why should you?” 
 
 Then he asks for the Executioner—that was none other, indeed, 
 than Jack Ketch, the Common Hangman, dressed up in black, with, 
 a Mask on, for the days of Gentlemen Headsmen have long since 
 passed away; though some would have it that this was a Surgeon 
 Apprentice, that dwelled close to their Hall in the Old Bailey, and 
 turned executioner for a Frolic; but I am sure it was Ketch, for he 
 came afterward to the Stone Kitchen, wanting to treat all present 
 to Drink; but the meanest Grenadier there would have none of the 
 Hangman’s liquor, for all that the Blood on his jerkin was that of 
 a Lord; and the fellow grew so impertinent at last that we Warders 
 were constrained to turn him out of the Fortress, and forbid him to 
 return under pain of a Drubbing. “ I shall see you no more in the 
 
 Towei,” quoth the impadent rascal; “but, by-, you shall all 
 
 of you meet me at Tyburn some day, and I’ll sell your lace doublets 
 in Rosemary Lane after that your throttles are twisted.” But to 
 resume. Lord Lovat gave this murderous wretch with the Ax 
 Ten Guineas in a Purse. Then he felt the edge of the Instrument 
 itself, and said very quietly that he “ thought it would do.” Soon 
 after, he rose from an Arm-chair which had been placed for him, 
 and walks round and round his Coffin, which was covered with 
 Black Velvet, studded with Silver Nails, and this inscription on it 
 (the which I copied off on my Tablets, at the time): 
 
 Simon Dominus Fraser de Lovat, 
 
 Decollat. April. 9, 1747, 
 iEtat. su 80 80. 
 
 Then he sat down again, and recited some Latin words which I did 
 not understand, but was afterward told they w T ere from Horace, 
 and signified that it is a sweet and proper thing to Die for one’s 
 Country; at the which a Wag in one of the Gazettes of the time 
 must needs turn this decorous Sentiment into Ridicule, and compose 
 as Epigram insulting Misfortune, to this Effect: 
 
 “ With justice may Lovat this adage apply: 
 
 For the good of their country All criminals die.” 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 217 
 
 Then did the unfortunate Nobleman desire all the people to stand 
 off except his two Warders, who again supported him wiiile he 
 prayed; after which he calls up his Solicitor and Agent in Scotland, 
 Mr. William Fraser, and, presenting his Gold-headed Cane to him, 
 said, “ I deliver you this cane in token of my sense of your faithful 
 services, and of my committing to you all the power I have upon 
 earth;” which is a Scotch fashion, I believe, when they are Exe¬ 
 cuted. And with this he kissed him upon both cheeks; for this 
 Lord was much given to hugging and slobbering. 
 
 He also calls for Mr. James Fraser, likewise a Kinsman (and 
 these Northern Lords seem to have them by Hundreds), and says, 
 “ My dear Jamie, I’m gaun to Haiv’n; but ye must e’en crawl a 
 wee langer in this evil Warld.” And with this, the old Grin. 
 
 Then he took off his Hat, Wig, and Upper Clothes, and delivered 
 them to Mr. W. F., charging him to see that the Executioner did 
 not touch them. He ordered his Niglit-cap to be put on, and, un¬ 
 loosening his Neckcloth and the Collar of his Shirt, he knelt 
 down at the Block, and pulled the Cloth which was to receive his 
 Head close to him; but he being too near that fatal Billet, the Exe¬ 
 cutioner desired him to remove a little further Back, which, with 
 our assistance, was Immediately done; and his Neck being properly 
 placed, he told the Headsman he would say a short Prayer, and 
 then give the Signal by dropping his Handkerchief. In this posture 
 lie remained about Half a Minute. Then, throwing down the 
 Kerchief, the Executioner, at One Blow, severed his Head from 
 his Body. Then was a dreadful Crimson Shower of Gore all 
 around, and many and many a time at the Playhouse have I thought 
 upon that Crimson Cascade on Tower Hill, when, in the tragedy of 
 “ Macbeth, ” the wicked Queen talks of “ the old man having so 
 much blood in him.” 
 
 The Corpse was put into the Coffin, and so into the Hearse, and 
 was carried back to the Tower. At four o’clock came an Under¬ 
 taker from Holborn'Hill, very fine, with many mourning-coaches 
 full of Scots gentlemen, and fetched away the Body, in order to be 
 sent to Scotland, and deposited in his own Tomb at Kirkhill. But 
 leave not being given by Authority as was expected, it was again 
 brought back to the Tower, and buried by the side of Kilmarnock 
 and Balmerino, close to the Communion-rails in the little church at 
 St. Peter-on-tlie-Green, where so much Royal and Noble Dust doth 
 molder away. 
 
 Memorandum .—The Block on which this Nobleman suffered was 
 but a common Billet of Oak w T ood, such as Butchers use, and liol- 
 
218 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 lowed out for the purpose of accommodating the neck, but it had 
 not been stowed away in the White Tower for a month before it 
 was shown to the Public for Money, and passed as the Block 
 whereon Queen Anne Boleyn was beheaded. So with the Ax, 
 which was declared to be the one used in decapitating K. C. 1st.; 
 but there’s not a word of truth in the whole story. The Block was 
 hewn and the Ax was forged after the ’45, and specially for the 
 doing of justice on the Rebel Lords. 
 
 Note also that Lord Lovat left it in a Codicil to his Will that all 
 the Pipers from Jonie Groat’s house to Edinburgh were to play be¬ 
 fore his Corpse, and have a handsome allowance in Meal and 
 Whisky (on which this sort of People mostly live) for so doing. 
 Likewise that all the good old Women of his county were to sing 
 what they call a Coronach over him. And indeed Women, both 
 young and old, are so good when there’s anything pitiful to be 
 done, that I make no doubt that the Coronach would have been 
 sung if the old Rebel had gone back to Scotland; and if there were 
 found those to weep for Nero, I see no reason why some tears 
 should not have been shed for Simon Lord Lovat. 
 
 But there is no denying, after all, that Simon Fraser w s a very 
 complete Scoundrel. His whole life, indeed, had been but one series 
 of Crimes, one calendar of Frauds, one tissue of Lies. For at least 
 seventy out of his eighty years of life he had been cheating, cog¬ 
 ging, betraying, and doing the Devil’s service upon earth; and who 
 shall say that his end was undeserved? A Scots Lord of his ac¬ 
 quaintance was heard to say that he deserved lo be hung twenty 
 times in twenty places for twenty heinous Crimes that he had com¬ 
 mitted; and let this be borne in mind, that this was the same Lord 
 Lovat that, as Captain Fraser, and being then a Young Man, was 
 outlawed for a very atrocious Act of Violence that he committed 
 upon a young Lady of Fashion and Figure, whom he carried away 
 (with the aid of a Band of his brutal Retainers) in the dead of night, 
 married by Force, with the assistance of a hireling Priest of his, 
 cutting the very clothes off her body with his Dirk, and bidding 
 his Pipers strike up to drown her cries. And yet such a Ruffian as 
 he undoubtedly was could maintain an appearance of a facete dis¬ 
 position to the last; and he seems to have taken great pains to quit 
 the Stage, not only with Decency, but with that Dignity which is 
 thought to distinguish the Good Conscience and the Noble Mind. 
 There is only one more thing to be set down, and that is one that I, 
 being the Warder who (with Bandolier) attended him throughout 
 his confinement, can vouch for the truth of. It was falsely said at 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 2 19 
 
 tlie time that this Lord sought to defraud the Ax by much drink¬ 
 ing af Wine: now I can aver that while in custody he never drank 
 above two pints a day; and the report may have arisen from the 
 considerable quantities of Brandy and Rum which were used, night 
 and morning, to bathe liis poor feet and legs. 
 
 Now, Tranquillity being happily restored to these Kingdoms, and 
 the Chevalier safely gollen away to France (whence, however, that 
 luckless young Man was expelled, and in a very ignominious man¬ 
 ner, at the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle), I do confess that I began to 
 weary somewhat of my fine Red Doublet, and of the Rosettes in 
 my shoes; and although my Loyalty to King George and the Prot¬ 
 estant Succession was without stain, I felt that it was somewhat be¬ 
 neath the dignity of a Gentleman Cavalier to dangle all day be¬ 
 neath a Portcullis with a Partisan on one shoulder, or act as Bear 
 Leader to the Joskins and simpering City Madames that came to 
 see the Curiosities. And I felt my old roaming Fit come upon me 
 as fierce as ever, and longed to be otf to Foreign Parts again. I 
 could have taken service under the Duke of Cumberland in the 
 wars of Germany, and could have procured, perhaps, a pair of 
 Colors in his Royal Highness’s army; but, odd to relate, ever since 
 my Misadventure at Vienna what time I was in little Squire Piii- 
 chin’s service, I had conceived a great Distaste for those High 
 Dutch countries, and cared not to go a campaigning there. Then 
 there was fighting going on, and to spare, in Italy, where the Aus¬ 
 trians were, doing their best to reduce Genoa, the French opposing 
 ’em tooth and nail. But I misliked the Germans as well as their 
 country, and saw not the Profit of getting shot under the command 
 of an Austrian Archduke. There were many other Continental 
 countries open to the enterprise of Gentlemen Adventurers from 
 England, but in most of them only Papists would go down; and to 
 turn Romanist, for whatever reward of Place or Dignity, was 
 against my principles. 
 
 Pending, however, my coming to some Determination as to my 
 future mode of life, I resolved to throw up my Post of Tower 
 Warder, receiving the gratuity of Twenty Guineas which was 
 granted to those resigning by the bounty of his Majesty the King. 
 Those who state that I left my Employment in anything like Dis¬ 
 grace are surely the vilest Traducers and Libelers that ever de¬ 
 served to have their, tongues bored through with a Red-hot Iran; 
 but I do not mind myself admitting that my situation had become 
 somewhat unpleasant, and that I was sufficiently anxious to change 
 the scene of my Adventures. There was a certain Waiting-maid 
 
220 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 belonging to Madame Williamson (that was General Williamson’s 
 lady, Military Commandant) wlio had long cast Sheep’s Eyes upon 
 me. I declare that I gave the Lass no encouragement; but what 
 would you have? I was in the prime of life and she a buxom kind 
 of Wench, about twenty-two years of age ’Twas following me 
 here, and ogling me there, and leaving love-billets and messages for 
 me at the Guard-Room. I will not deny but that from time to time 
 I may have passed a jest with the girl, nay, given her some few 
 trinkums, and now and then treated her to chocolate or sweet wine 
 at Marylebone Gardens or the Flask at Hampstead. You may be 
 sure that on these occasions I did not wear my Antiquated' costume 
 as a Tower Warder, but a blue Culloden frock, gold-corded, 
 and with crown buttons; a scarlet waistcoat and breeches; a hat 
 with a military cock; and a neat hanger by my side. By drawers, 
 masters of the games, and others, I was now always known as 
 Captain. 
 
 Had I not been exceedingly wary and circumspect in all my deal¬ 
 ings with this Waiting-woman—poor thing! her name was Prue— 
 the affair might have ended badly; and there might have been 
 Rendezvous on the ramparts, moonlight trysts on the Tower Green 
 arid, the like Follies. But I saw that our Flirtation must not be 
 permitted to go any further. The Commandant’s wife, indeed, had 
 come to hear of it; and, sending for me to her Parlor, must needs 
 ask me what my Intentions were toward her Maid. ‘ ‘ Madame, ’ ’ I 
 answered, taking off my hat, and making her a very lo;w bow, “ I 
 am a soldier; and I never knew a soldier yet that Intended anything; 
 all he does is without any Intention at all.” Upon which she bade 
 me go for an Impudent fellow; and I doubt not, had I been under 
 her Husband’s orders, would have had me set upon the Picket on 
 the Parade for my free speaking; but we Tower Warders were not 
 amenable to such Slavish Discipline; and, indeed, General William¬ 
 son, who stood by, was pleased to laugh heartily at my answer, and 
 gave me a crown to drink the King’s health, bidding me, however, 
 take care what I was about, and see that the poor girl came 1o no 
 Hurt. And I being at that time somewdiat chary of imperiling my 
 Independence, and minded to take neither a Wife nor a Mistress, 
 thought the very best thing I could do was to kiss, shake hands, 
 and Part, lest worse should come of it. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 221 
 
 CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH. 
 
 I SEE MUCH OF THE INSIDE OF THE WORLD, AND THEN GO RIGHT 
 
 ROUND IT. 
 
 1748. I was not yet Forty years of age, Hale and Stout, Comely 
 enough—so said Mistress Prue and many other damsels—with a 
 Military Education, an approved reputation for Valor, and very 
 little else besides. A gentleman at large, with a purse well-nigh as 
 slender as an ell-wand, and as woe-begone as a dried eel-skin. But 
 I was never one that wanted many Superfluities; and having no 
 Friends in the world, was of a most Contented Disposition. 
 
 Some trouble, indeed, must I have with that luckless Mistress 
 Prue, the Waiting-Maid—sure, I did the girl no Harm, beyond 
 whispering a little soft nonsense in her ear now and then. But she 
 must needs hare a succession of Hysterical Fits after my departure 
 from the Tower, and write me many scores of Letters couched in 
 the most Lamentable Rigmarole, threatening to throw herself into 
 Rosamond’s Pond in St. James’s Park (then a favorile Drowning- 
 Place for Disconsolate Lovers), with many other nonsensical Men¬ 
 aces. But I was Arm to my Determination to do her no harm, and 
 therefore carefully abstained from answering any of her letters. 
 She did not break her heart; but (being resolved to wed one that 
 wore the King’s cloth) she married Miles Bandolier about three 
 months after my Departure, and broke his head, ere the Honey¬ 
 moon was over, with a Bed-staff. A most frivolous Quean this, 
 and I well rid of her. 
 
 Coming out of the Tower, 1 took lodgings for a season in Great 
 Ryder Street, St. James’s, and set up for a Person of Pleasure. There 
 were many Military Officers of my Acquaintance who honored me 
 with their company over a Bottle, for even as a Tower Warder I 
 had been a kind of a Gentleman, and there was no treating me as 
 one of base Degree. They laughed somewhat at my Brevet rank 
 of Captain, and sometimes twitted me as to what Regiment I was 
 in; but I let them laugh, so long as they did not go too far, when I 
 would most assuredly have shown them, by the length of my 
 Blade, not only what Regiment I belonged to, but what Mettle I 
 was of. By favor of some of my martial Friends, I was introduced 
 to a favorite Coffee-House, the “ Ramilies,” in Jermyn Street (’tis 
 Slaughter’s, in St. Martin’s Lane, now, that the Soldier-Officers do 
 
222 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 most use); and there we had many a pleasant Carouse, and, more¬ 
 over, many a good game at cards; at the which, thanks to the tuition 
 of Mr. Hodge, when I was in Mr. Pincliin’s service, I was a passable 
 adept, being able to hold my own and More, in almost every Game 
 that is to be found in Hoyle. And so our card-playing did result, not 
 only to mutual pleasure, but to my especial Profit; for I was very 
 lucky. But I declare that I always played fair; and if any man 
 doubted the strict probity of my proceeding, there was then, as- 
 there is now, my Sword to vindicate my Honor. 
 
 ’Tis ill-living, however, on Gambling. Somehow or another the 
 Money you win at Cards—I would never touch Dice, which are too 
 chancy, liable to be Sophisticated, and, besides, sure to lead to 
 Brawling, Stabbing, and cracking of Crowns—this Money, gotten 
 over Old Nick’s back, I say, never seems to do a Man any Good. 
 ’Tis light come, and light go; and the Store of Gold Pieces that 
 glitter so bravely when you sweep them off the green cloth seems, 
 in a couple of days afterward, to have turned to dry leaves, like 
 the Magician’s in the Fairy Tale. Excepting Major Pan ton, who 
 built the Street and the Square which bear his name out of One 
 Night’s Profit at the Pharaoh table, can you tell me of one habitual 
 Gambler who has been able to realize anything substantial out of 
 his Winnings? No, no; a Hand at Cards is all very well, and ’tis 
 pleasant to win enough to pay one’s Reckoning, give a Supper to 
 the Loser, and have a Frisk upon Town afterward; but I do abhor 
 your steady, systematic Gamblers, with their restless eyes, quiver¬ 
 ing lips, hair bristling under their wigs, and twitching fingers, as 
 they watch the Game. Of course, when Cards are played, you 
 must play for Money. As to playing for Love, I would as soon 
 play for nutshells or cheese-parings. But the whole business is too 
 feverish and exciting for a Man of warm temperament. ’Tis killing 
 work when your Bed and Raiment, your Dinner and your Flask, 
 depend on the turn up of a card. And so I very speedily aban¬ 
 doned this line of life. 
 
 ’Twas necessary, nevertheless, for something to be done to bring 
 Grist to the Mill. About this time it was a very common practice 
 for Great Noblemen—notably those who were in any way addicted 
 to pleasure, and ours was a mighty Gay Nobility thirty or forty 
 years since—to entertain Men of Honor, Daring, and Ability, cun¬ 
 ning in the use of their swords, and exceedingly discreet in their 
 conversations, to attend them upon their private affairs, and render 
 to them Services of a kind that required Secrecy as well as Cour¬ 
 age. One or two Duels'in Hvde Park and behind Montagu House, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 223 
 
 in which I had the Honor to he concerned as Second—and in one 
 of which I engaged the Second of my Patron’s Adversary, and sue' 
 ceeded, by two dexterous side slices, in Quincing his face as neatly 
 as a housewife would Slice Fruit for a Devonshire Squab Pie— 
 gained me the notice of some of the Highest Nobility, to whom I 
 was otherwise recommended by the easiness of my Manners, and 
 the amenity of my Language. The young Earl of Modesley did in 
 particular affect me, and I was of Service to his Lordship on many 
 most momentous and delicate Occasions. For upward of Six 
 Months I was sumptuously entertained in his Lordship’s Mansion 
 in Red Lion Square; a Kind of Hospitality, indeed, which he was 
 most profuse in the dispensation of—there being at the same time in 
 the House a French Dancing-Master, an Italian Singer, a New- 
 Anarket Horse-Jockey, and a Domestic Chaplain, that had been un¬ 
 frocked for too much fighting of Cocks and drinking of Cider with 
 •clowns at his Vicarage; but to whom the Earl of Modesley was 
 always a fast friend. Unfortunate Young Nobleman! He died of 
 a malignant Fever at Avignon, just before attaining his Thirtieth 
 Year! His Intentions toward me were of llie most Bounteous De- t 
 scription; and he even, being pleased to say that I was a good-look¬ 
 ing Fellow enough, and come to an Age when it behooved me to be 
 settled in Life, proposed that I should enter in the bonds of Wed¬ 
 lock with one Miss. Jenny Liglitfoot, that had formerly been a 
 Milliner in Liquorpond Street, but who, when his Lordship intro¬ 
 duced me to her, lived in most splendid Lodgings under the Piazza, 
 Covent Garden, and gave the handsomest Chocolate Parties to the 
 Young Nobility that ever were seen. So boundless was his Lord¬ 
 ship’s generosity that he offered to bestow a portion of Five Hun¬ 
 dred Pounds on Miss Liglitfoot if she would become Madame 
 Dangerous—said portion to be at my absolute disposal—and to give 
 me besides a long Lease at a Peppercorn Rent of a Farm of his in 
 Wiltshire. The Match, however, came to nothing. I was not yet 
 disposed to surrender my Liberty; and, indeed, the! Behavior of 
 Miss Liglitfoot while the Treaty of Alliance between us was being 
 discussed, did not augur very favorably for our felicity in the 
 Matrimonial State. Indeed, she was pleased to call me Rogue, 
 Gambler, Bully, Led Captain and many other uncivil names. She 
 snapped off the silver hilt of my dress-sword (presented to me after 
 I had fought the Second in Hyde Park) and obstinately refused to 
 restore that gewgaw to me, telling me that she had given it to her 
 Landlady (one Mother Bisliopsbib, a monstrous Fat Woman, that 
 was afterward carted, and stood in the Pillory, in Spring Gardens, 
 
224 : 
 
 CAPTAIN DAKGEROUS. 
 
 for evil practices) in part payment for rent owing. Moreover, slie 
 willfully spoiled my best periwig by overturning a Chocolate Mill 
 thereupon; and otherwise so misconducted herself that I bade her a 
 respectful Farewell—she leaving the mark of her IN ails on my face 
 as a parting Gift—and told my Lord Modesley that I would as lief 
 wed a Roaring Dragon as his Termagant of the Piazza. This Re¬ 
 fusal brought about a Rupture between myself and my Lord. He 
 was imprudent enough to talk about my Ingratitude, to tell me 
 that the very coat on my back was bought and paid for with his 
 Money, and to threaten to have me kicked out of doors by two of 
 his Tall Lackeys. But I speedily let him have a piece of my 
 Mind. “My Lord,” says I, going up to him, and thrusting my 
 face full in his, “ you will be pleased to know that I am a Gentle¬ 
 man, whose ancestors were ennobled centuries before your rascally 
 grandfather got his peerage for turning against the true King.” 
 
 He began to murmur something (as many have done before when 
 my blood was up, and I have mentioned Royalty) about my being 
 *' a Jacobite.” 
 
 “ I'll Jacobite your jacket for you, you Jackadandy!” I retorted. 
 “You have most foully insulted’me. I know your Lordship’s 
 ways well. If I sent you a cartel, you and your wliippersnapper 
 Friends would sneer at it, because I am poor, and fling Led Captain 
 in my teeth. You won’t fight with a poor Gentleman of the Sword. 
 I am too much of a Man of Honor to waylay you at night, and give 
 you the private Stab, as you deserve; but so sure as you are your 
 father’s son, if you don’t make me this instant a Handsome Apol¬ 
 ogy, I will cudgel you till there is not a whole bone in your body.” 
 
 The young Ruffian—he was not such a coward as Squire Pinchin, 
 but rather murderous—makes no more ado but draws upon me. I 
 caught up a quarter-staff that lay handy (for we were always ex¬ 
 ercising ourselves at athletic amusements), struck the weapon from 
 his grasp, and hit him a sounding thwack across the shins that 
 brought him down upon his marrow-bones. 
 
 “ Below the Belt!” he cries out, holding up his hands. “ Foul! 
 foul!” 
 
 “Foul be hanged!” I answered. “I’m not going to fight, but 
 to Beat You;” and I rushed upon him, shortening the Staff, and 
 would have belabored him Soundly, but 1 liat he saw it was no use 
 contending against John Dangerous, and very liumbty craved a 
 parley. He Apologized as I had Demanded, and lent me Twenty 
 Guineas, and we' parted on the most friendly terms. 
 
 This Lord essayed, notwithstanding, to do me much harm in 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 225 
 
 Town, saying that I had used him with black. Cruelty, had requited 
 his many favors with gross Treachery, and the like Falsehoods, 
 until I was obliged to send him a Message to this purport: that un¬ 
 less he desisted, I should be obliged to keep my promise as to the 
 Cudgel. Upon which he presently surceased. So much meanness 
 had he, even, as to fudge up a pretended debt of nineteen guineas 
 against me as for money lent, for the which I was arrested by bail¬ 
 iffs, and conveyed—being taken at Jonathan’s—to a vile sponging- 
 house in Little Bell Alley, Moorfields; but the keeper of the House 
 stood my friend, and procured a Bail for me in the shape of an 
 Honest Gentleman, who was to be seen every day about West¬ 
 minster Hall with a straw in his shoe, and for a crown and a dinner 
 at the eating-house would suddenly become worth five hundred a 
 year, or at least swear himself black in the face that such was his 
 estate—which was all that was required. And when it came to 
 justifying of Bail before the Judges, what so easy as to hire a suit 
 of clothes in Monmouth Street, and send him into court fully 
 equipped as a reputable gentleman? However, there was no oc¬ 
 casion for this, for on the very night of my enlargement I won fifty 
 guineas at the tables; and walking very Bold to my Lord’s House, 
 send up the nineteen guineas to my Lord with a note, asking to 
 what lawyer I should pay the cost of suit, and whether I should 
 wait upon him at his Levee for a receipt. On the which he, still 
 with the fear of a cudgeling before his eyes, sends me down a Re¬ 
 ceipt in Full, and the Money lack to boot, begging me to trouble my¬ 
 self in no way about the lawyer; which, I promise you, I did not. 
 And so an end of this troublesome acquaintance—a profitable one 
 enough to me while it lasted. As for Miss Jenny, her Behavior 
 soon became as light as her name. I have heard that she got into 
 trouble about a Spanish Merchant that was flung down-stairs and 
 nigh killed, and that but for the Favor of Justice Cogwell, who had 
 a hankering for her, ’twould have been a Court-Job. Afterward I 
 learned that she had been seen beating Hemp in Bridewell in a 
 satin sack laced with silver; and I warrant that she was fain to 
 cry, “Knock! oh, good Sir Robert, knock!” many a time before 
 the Blue-coated Beadles on Evil Thursday had done swingeing of 
 her. 
 
 There are certain periods in the life even of the most fortunate 
 man when his Luck is at a desperately low ebb—when everything 
 seems to go amiss with him—when nothing that he can turn his 
 hand to prospers—when friends desert him, and the companions of 
 his sunshiny days chide him for not having made better use of his 
 
22a 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 opportunities—when, Do what he will, he can not avert the Black 
 Storm—when Ruin seems impending, and Catastrophe is on the 
 cards—when he is Down in a word, and the despiteful are getting 
 ready to gibe at him in his Misfortune, and to administer unto him 
 the last Kick. These times of Trial and Bitter Travail ofttimes 
 strike one who has just attained Middle age—the Half-way House 
 of Life; and then, ’tis the merest chance in the world whether he 
 will be enabled to pick himself up again, or be condemned for 
 evermore to poverty and contumely—to the portion of weeds and 
 outw T om faces. I do confess that about this period of my career 
 things went very badly with me, and that I was grievously hard- 
 driven, not alone to make both ends meet, but to discover anything 
 that could have its ending in a Meal of Victuals. I have heard that 
 some of the greatest Prelates, Statesmen, Painters, Captains, and 
 Merchants—I speak not of Poets, for it is their eternal portion, 
 seemingly, to be born, to live, and to Die Poor'—have suffered the 
 like straits at some time or another of their lives. Many times, 
 however, have I put it on record in these pages, that Despair and I 
 were never Bedfellows. As for Suicide, I do condemn it, and 
 abhor it utterly, as the most cowardly, Dishonest, and unworthy 
 Method to which a Man can resort that he may rid himself of his 
 Difficulties. To make a loathsome unhandsome corpse of yourself, 
 and deny yourself Christian Burial, nay, run the risk of crowner’s 
 quest, and interment al the meeting of four cross-roads with a Stake 
 driven through your Heart. Oh, ’tis shameful! Hang yourself, 
 forsooth! why should you spend money in threepenny cord, when 
 Jack Ketch, if you deserve it, will hang you for nothing, and the 
 County find the Rope? Take poison! why, you are squeamisn at 
 accepting physic from the doctor, which may possibly do you 
 good. Why, then, should you swallow a vile mess which you are 
 certain must do you harm? Fall upon your sword as Tully—I 
 mean Brutus—or some of those old Romans were wont to do when 
 the Game was up! In the first place, I should like to see the man, 
 howsoever expert a fencer, who could so tumble on his own blade 
 and kill himself. ’Tis easier to swallow a sword than to fall upon 
 one, and the first is quite as much a Mountebank’s Trick as t’other. 
 Blow your brains out! A mighty fine climax truly! to make a 
 Horrible Mess all over the floor, and frighten the neighbors out of 
 their wits; besides, as a waggish friend of mine has it, rendering 
 yourself stone-deaf for life. If it comes to powder and ball, a Man 
 of courage would much sooner blow out somebody else’s Brains 
 instead of his own. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 227 
 
 I did not, I am thankful to say, want Bread during this my time 
 of ill luck; and I never parted with my sword; but sure it is that 
 Jack Dangerous was woundily pushed, and had to adopt many ex¬ 
 traordinary shifts for a livelihood. Item: I engaged myself to one 
 Mr. Macanasser, an Irishman, that had been a pupil of the famous 
 Mr. Figg, Master of the Noble Art of Self-Defense, at his Theater 
 of Arms, on the right-hand side of the Oxford Road, near Adam 
 and Eve Court. Mr. Figg was, as is well known, the very Atlas of 
 the Sword; and Mr. Macanasser’s body was a very Mass of Scars 
 and Cicatrices gotten in hand-to-hand conflicts with the broadsword 
 on the public stage. He had once presumed to rival Mr. Figg, 
 whence arose a cant saying of the time, “ A fig for the Irish;” but 
 having been honorably vanquished by him, even to the slicing of 
 his nose in two pieces, the cracking of his crown in sundry places, 
 and the scoring of his body as though it had been a Loin of Pork 
 for llie Bakehouse, he was taken into his service, and became a 
 principal figure in all the grand gladiatorial encounters, at wages 
 of forty shillings a week and his meat. As for Mr. Figg himself, 
 who was as good at backsword as at broadsword, at quarter-staff 
 as at foil, and at fisticuffs as any one of them—to say nothing of 
 his Cornish wrestling—I saw him once, and shall never forget him. 
 There was a Majesty blazed in his countenance and shone in all his 
 actions beyond all I ever beheld. His right leg bold and firm; and 
 his Left, which could hardly ever be disturbed, gave him the sur¬ 
 prising advantages he so often proved, and struck his Adversary 
 with Despair and Panic. He had that peculiar way of stepping in, 
 in a Parry, which belongs to the Grand School alone; he knew his 
 arm, and its just time of moving; put a firm faith in that, and 
 never let his foe escape a parry. He was just as much, as great a 
 master as any I ever saw, as he was a greater judge of time and 
 Measure. It was his method, when he fought in his Amphitheater, 
 to send round to a select number of his scholars to borrow a shirt 
 for the ensuing combat, and seldom failed of half a dozen of super¬ 
 fine Holland from his prime Pupils. Most of the young Nobility 
 and Gentry made it a part of their education to march under 
 his warlike banner. Most of his Scholars were at every battle, 
 and were sure to exult at their great master’s victories; every 
 person supposing he saw the wounds his shirt received. Then 
 Mr. Figg would take an opportunity to inform his Lenders of the 
 charm their Linen had received, with an offer to send the garments 
 home: but he seldom received any other answer than “ Hang you, 
 keep it,” A most ingenious and courageous person, and immeas- 
 
228 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 urably beyond all bis competitors, such as Macanasser, Will 
 Holmes, Felix Maguire, Broughton, Sutton, and the like. 
 
 Many good bouts with all kinds of weapons did we have at Mr. 
 Macanasser’s theater, which was down a Stable-yard behind New¬ 
 port Market, not far from Orator Henley’s chapel. The shirt 
 maneuver we tried over and over again with varying success; but 
 we found it in the end impossible to preserve order among our 
 Patrons, the greater part of whom were Butchers; and I am fain to 
 admit that many of these unctuous sky-blue jerkins could fight as well 
 as we. Then Mr. Macanasser was much given to drinking, and in 
 his potations quarrelsome. ’Twas all very well fighting on a si age 
 for profit, and with the chance of applause, a clean shirt, and per¬ 
 chance a Bight Good Supper given to us by our admirers afterward 
 at some neighboring Tavern: but I never could see the humor of 
 Swashbuckling for nothing, and without occasion; and as my Em¬ 
 ployer was somewhat too prompt to call in cold iron when his Head 
 was so Hot, I shook hands with him, and bade him find another 
 assistant. This was the Mr. Macanasser that was afterward so un¬ 
 fortunate as to be hanged at Tyburn for devalising a gentleman at 
 Roehampton. Great interest was made to save him; his very prose¬ 
 cutor (who knew not at the first his assailant, or that he had been 
 driven to the road by hard times) heading the signatures to a peti¬ 
 tion for him. But ’twas all in vain. He made a beautiful end of 
 it in a fine white nightcap fringed; and his funeral was attended by 
 some of the most eminent swordsmen in town who had a gallant 
 set-to afterward for the benefit of his widow. ’Tis sad to think of 
 the numbers of brave men that I’ve known, and how many of them 
 are Hanged. 
 
 About this time I was much with the Players, but misliked them 
 exceedingly; and although numbers of brilliant offers were made to 
 me, I could not be persuaded to try the sock and buskin. Hard as 
 were the names by which my enemies would sometimes call me, I 
 could never abide that of Rogue and Vagabond, and such, by Act 
 of Parliament, was the player at that time. No, I said; whatever 
 straits I am driven to, I will be a Soldier of Fortune, and Captain 
 Dangerous to the last. 
 
 Of my Adventure with Mme. Taffetas the Widow, I am not 
 disposed to say. much. Indeed, until my being finally settled, and 
 made the Happiest Man upon earth by my union with the departed 
 Saint who was the mother of my Lilias, it must be admitted that 
 my commerce with the Sex was mostly of the unluckiest descrip¬ 
 tion. I haye been used most shamefully by women; but it behooves 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 229 
 
 me not to complain, seeing how much felicity I was permitted to 
 enjoy in my latter days. This much, however, I will discreetly set 
 down. That meeting Mme. Taffetas in a side box at Drury Lane 
 playhouse, she was pleased to accept my Addresses, and to inform 
 me that my conversation was in the highest degree tasteful to her* 
 I entertained her very handsomely—indeed much beyond my means, 
 for I was very heavily in debt for necessaries, and I could scarcely 
 walk the streets without apprehensions of the grim Sergeant with 
 his capias. Mme. Taffetas was an exceedingly comely person, 
 amazingly well dressed, and, as I was given to understand, in very 
 prosperous circumstances. She kept an Italian Warehouse by the 
 Sign of the two Olive Posts, in the broad part of the Strand, almost 
 opposite to Exeter Change, and sold all sorts of Italian Silks, Lus¬ 
 trings, Satins, Paduasoys, Velvets, Damasks, Fans, Leghorn Hats, 
 Flowers, Violin Strings, Books of Essences, Venice Treacle, Bal¬ 
 sams, Florence Cordials, Oil, Olives, Anchovies, Capers, Vermi¬ 
 celli, Bologna Sausages, Parmesan Cheese, Naples Soap, and similar 
 delicate cates from foreign parts. All her friends put her down as 
 a forty-thousand-pounder. In Brief, she professed to be satisfied 
 with my gentility and Ancient Lineage, though worldly goods I 
 had none to offer her. All congratulated me on my Good Fortune; 
 and not wanting to make any unnecessary bustle about the affair, 
 we took coach one fine Monday morning down to Fleet Market, and 
 were married by a Fleet parson—none other, indeed, than my old 
 Friend Chaplain Hodge, who had taken to this way of life and 
 found it very profitable, marrying his twenty or thirty couple a 
 week, when Business was brisk, at fees varying from five guineas 
 to seven and sixpence, and from a dozen of Burgundy to half a 
 pint of Geneva. But ’twas a rascally business, the venerable man 
 said, and he sorely longed for the good old days when he, and I, 
 and Squire Pinchin. made the Grand Tour together. Alas, for 
 that poor little man: His Keverence told me that he had gone from 
 bad to worse; lhat his Mamma had married a knavish lawyer, who 
 so bewildered Mr. Pinchin with Mortgages and Deeds of Gift, and 
 Loans at usurious interest, that he got at last the whole of his prop¬ 
 erty from him, brought him in many thousands in debt besides, 
 and, after keeping him for three years locked up and half- starved 
 in the Compter, was only forced to consent to his enlargement when 
 the unhappy little man—whose head was never of the strongest, 
 and his wits always going a wool-gathering—went stark-staring 
 mad, and was, by the City charity, removed to Bedlam Hospital in 
 JMoorfields, There he raved for a time, imagining himself to be 
 
230 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 the Pope of Rome, with a paper-cap for a tiara, an ell-wand for a 
 crosier, a blanket for a rochet, and bestowing his blessings on the 
 other Maniacs with much force and vehemence; and there, poor 
 demented creature, he died in the year 1740. 
 
 Much better would it have been for me, had I gone straight off 
 my Head and had been sent to howl in Bedlam, than that I should 
 have married that same thievish catamaran, Mme. Taffetas. 
 Surely never Madman deserved a Dark House and a Whip more 
 than I did for that most foolishly contracted union. I defy Cal¬ 
 umny to prove that I ever used anything approaching false Repre¬ 
 sentations in this matter. I told her plainly that my Hand, Sword, 
 and Deep Devotion were all I had to offer, and that for mere vile 
 pounds, shillings, and pence, and other Mercantile Arrangements, 
 I must look to her. Absolutely I borrowed ten pieces, although I 
 was then at a very Low Ebb, to defray the expenses of the wedding 
 Treat, which was done done most handsomely at the Bible and 
 Crown, in Pope’s Head Alley, Cornhill. “How then,” t said to 
 myself, as we came home toward the Strand (for we were resolved 
 to have no foolish honey-mooning in the Country, but to remain in 
 town and keep an eye to Business)—“ now, then, Jack Dangerous, 
 thou art at last Married and Settled, and need trouble thyself no 
 more about the cares and anxieties of money-grubbing and bread¬ 
 getting. Thou art tiled-in handsomely, Jack; thatched and fenced, 
 and girt about with Comfort and Respectability. Thy hat is on, 
 and thy house is covered.” Alas, poor fool! alas, triply distilled 
 Zany and egregiously doting idiot! No sooner did a Hackney coach 
 set us down at the Leghorn Warehouse in the broad part of the 
 Strand, than we found Margery the maid and Tom the shopboy in 
 a great confusion of tears on tire threshold; and immediately after¬ 
 ward we heard that during our absence to get married, Bailiffs had 
 made their entrance, and seized all the Merchandise for a bill owing 
 by Mme. Taffetas to her Factor of Seven Hundred Pounds. The 
 false Quean that I w T as wedded to was hopelessly bankrupt, and 
 with the greatest impudence in the world she calls upon me to pay 
 the Money; the Bailiffs adding, with a grin, that to their knowledge 
 she owed much more than their Execution stood for, and that no 
 doubt, as soon as it was bruited abroad that I was her Husband, the 
 Sheriff of Middlesex would have something to say to me in the 
 way of a capias against my person. In vain did I Rave and Swear, 
 and endeavor to show that I could in no way be held liable for 
 Debts which I had never contracted. Such, I was told, was the 
 Law; and such it remains to this day, to the Great Scandal of 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 231 
 
 justice and the detriment of Gentlemen cavalieros who may he 
 entrapped into marrying vulgar Adventuresses whom they deem 
 Gentlewomen of Property, and who turn out instead to be not worth 
 twopence-halfpenny in the world. Nor were words wanting to add 
 dire Insult to this astounding Injury; for Mine. Taffetas, now 
 Dangerous, as I groaningly remember, must needs call me Merce¬ 
 nary Rascal, Shuffling Pickthank, Low-minded Fortune-hunter, and 
 the like unkind names. 
 
 Mme. Dangerous indeed! But I am thankful to Providence 
 that the title she assumed very soon fell away from her, and that I 
 was once more left free and independent. For whilst-we we^e in 
 the very midst of Hot Dispute and violent Recrimination comes a 
 great noise at the door as though some one were striving to Batter 
 it down. And then Margery the Maid and Tom the shop lad began 
 to howl and yelp again, crying out Murder and thieves, and that 
 they were undone, the Bailiffs smoking their Pipes and drinking 
 their Beer meanwhile, as though they enjoyed the Humors of the 
 Scene hugely, and my wicked wife now pretending to faint, and 
 now making at me with the avowed Design of tearing my eyes out. 
 Presently comes lurching and staggering into the room a Great 
 
 0 
 
 Hulking Brute of a Man that was attired like a Sea Captain; and 
 this Roistering Tarpaulin makes up without more ado to my 
 Precious Partner, gives her two sounding Busses on either side of 
 her cheeks, and salutes her as his wife. 
 
 “ Your wife!” 1 cried, starting up; “ why, she’s my wife! I 
 married her this very morning, and to my sorrow, before Parson 
 Hodge, the Couple-Beggar, at the Fleet.” 
 
 “ That maybe, Brother,” answers the Sea Captain, with drunken 
 gravity; “ but she’s my wife, for all that. You married her this 
 morning, you say. I married her five years ago at Horsleydown, 
 and in the Parish church. I’ve got the ’Stifficate to prove it; and 
 though I say it that shouldn’t, there’s not a Finer woman, with a 
 neater ankle and such a Devil of a temper, to be found ’twixt 
 Beachy Head and Cape Horn.” 
 
 “ A fig for botliof you!” belVows Mme. Taffetas, who had gone 
 into one of her Sham Faints in the arm-chair, but was now con¬ 
 veniently recovered again, “ If I’m married to both of you—to 
 you, you pitiless Grampus ” (this was to the Sea Captain), “ and to 
 you, Ruffian, Bully, and Stabster ” (this was to me), “ I’m married 
 to somebody else, and my real Husband is a Gentleman, who, if he 
 were here, would quoit the pair of you into the street from Exeter 
 Change to the Fox under the Hill.” 
 
232 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 She said this in one Scream, and then Fainted, or pretended to 
 Faint again. 
 
 “ Brother,” said the Sea Captain to me, staggering a little (for he 
 confessed to having much mixed punch under hatches), but still 
 very grave—“ brother, I think as how it’s clear that we’re both of 
 us d-d fools, and d-d lucky fellows at the same time.” 
 
 “ Amen!” cries one of the Bailiffs, with a guffaw. 
 
 ‘ ‘ You belay, ’ * remarked the Captain, turning toward the vermin 
 of Law with profound disdain. ‘ ‘ Brother ’ ’ (turning to me), ‘ ‘ is 
 the Press out?” 
 
 “ What do you mean?” I inquired. “ You know that there’s no 
 warrant for press-gangs in this part of the Liberties of West¬ 
 minster. ' 
 
 “ Liberty be Hanged!” quoth the Sea Captain. “ If there was 
 .any liberty there couldn’t be a press, for which I don’t care a groat, 
 for I’m a master mariner. This is what I mean. Is them land¬ 
 lubbers there part of a press-gang? Are you trapped, brother? Are 
 you in the bilboes? Are you in any danger of being put under 
 hatches?” 
 
 “Why,” up spoke one of the Bailiffs, answering forme, “the 
 truth is that we are Sheriff’s Sergeants, and have made seizure, ac¬ 
 cording to due writ of ji.fa. of this worthy lady’s goods. We’ve 
 nothing at all against the gentleman who says that he manied her 
 this morning; but as you said that you’d married her five years ago, 
 it’s very likely that we, or some of our mates, shall have something 
 to say to you, in the form of parchment between this and noon to¬ 
 morrow.” 
 
 “ Very well,” answers the Strange Seaman. “You speak like 
 a Man-o’-War’s chaplain, some Lies and some Lingo, but all of it 
 d-d Larned. Have you got ere a drop of rum, brother?” 
 
 “There’s nothing here but some Three-Thread Swipes,” re¬ 
 sponds Mr. Bailiff; “ and, indeed, we were waiting until the gentle¬ 
 man treated us to something better.” 
 
 “Then,” continues the Captain, “you shall have some rum. 
 Younker, go and fetch these gentlemen some liquor,” and he flings 
 a crown to the shop-lad. “You may drink your grog and blow 
 your baccy,” he went on, “ as long as ever you like, and much good 
 may it do you. And as for you, Pig-faced Nan ”—in this uncivil 
 manner did he address the false Mme. Taffetas—“you may go to 
 bed, or to the Devil, ’zactly as you choose, and settle your Business 
 with the Bailiffs in the morning ’zactly as you like. And you and 
 I, brother,” he wound up, taking me by the arm in quite a friendly 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 233 
 
 manner, “ will just go and take our grog and blow our baccy in 
 peace and quietness, and thank the Lord for it.” 
 
 All this he said with great thickness and indistinctness of utter¬ 
 ance, but with an immovable gravity of countenance. I never saw 
 a Man who was manifestly so Drunk speak so sensibly, and behave 
 himself in such a proper manner in my life. 
 
 As he turned on his heel to leave the parlor where all this took 
 place, I saw one of the Bailiffs rise stealthily as if to follow us. 
 
 “ Belay there!” the Captain cried, advancing his mahogany Paw 
 in a warning manner. “ Hold hard, shipmates. I’m a peaceable 
 man, and aboard they call me Billy the Lamb; but, by the Lord 
 Harry, if I catch you sneaking about, or trying to find out where 
 I and this noble gentleman be a going, I’m blessed if I don’t split 
 your skull in two with this here speaking-trumpet.” And so say¬ 
 ing the Captain produced a very long tin tube, such as Mariners 
 carry to make their voices heard at a distance at sea, but which they 
 generally have aboard, and do not carry with them in their walks. 
 
 The Bailiffs were sensible men, and forbore to intermeddle with 
 us any more. So we marched out of the house, it being now about 
 nine o’clock at night; and, upon my word, from that moment to 
 this, I never set eyes upon Mme. Taffetas, or Dangerous, or 
 Blokes—for the Sea Captain’s name, he afterward told me, was 
 Blokes—or whatever her real Name was. It is very certain that 
 she used me most scandalously, and cruelly betrayed the trusting 
 confidence of one that' was not only a Bachelor, but an Orphan. 
 
 Captain Blokes was a strange character. We had a grand 
 Carouse that night, he paying the Shot like a Gentleman; and over 
 our flowing Bowls he fold me that he had long had suspicions of 
 his wife’s real character; and was, indeed, in possession of evidence 
 (though he had kept it secret) to prove that she had given herself in 
 marriage to another man before she had wedded him. And then, 
 through the serving-lad he had heard that very morning, on his 
 coming into the Pool from Gravesend and Foreign Parts, that Ma¬ 
 dame, who thought him in China at least, and hoped him Dead, was 
 about 1o enter into Wedlock once again; so that, determined to 
 have Sport, he had well Primed himself with Punch, and lurked 
 about the neighborhood until Monsieur Tomfool and his Spouse (by 
 which I mean myself, though no other man should call me so) had 
 come home from the Fleet. And so all the Ciying and Lord ha’ 
 Mercies of the Wench and the Boy were all subterfuges; and they 
 knew very well, the sly rogues, that the Sea Captain would soon 
 be to the fore. 
 
234 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Nothing would suit him after this hut that we should have Sup¬ 
 per at the King of Prussia’s Head, in the Savoy, and, as I had given 
 up my Lodgings as not Grand enough for me on the eve of my 
 Wedding, and the Vessel of which he was Commander w T as lying in 
 the Pool, that we should have Beds—at his charges—at the same 
 Tavern; and, indeed, your Sea-faring men, although rough enough, 
 and smelling woundily of tar and bilge-water, are the most Hospi¬ 
 table Creatures breathing; and that makes Me so free with my 
 Money when there is a Treat afoot; albeit I can, without Vanity, 
 declare myself Amphibious, for I have seen as much service by Sea 
 as by Land, and have always approved myself a Gentleman of 
 Courage, Honor, and Discretion, on both Elements. 
 
 The next morning, after a Nip of Aquavitae, to clear the Cobweb 
 out of our threats, we went down to Billingsgate, where we saw my 
 old humorous acquaintances, Brandy Sail, the fishwife, and the 
 humorous porter, the Duke of Puddledock; likewise a merry Wag, 
 that did porterage work for the Fish Factors in the Market, and 
 thereby seemed to have caught somewhat of the form of the fish 
 beneath which his shoulders were continually groaning, so that all 
 who could take that liberty with him called him Cod’s Head and 
 Shoulders. Here we breakfasted on new Oysters and Fried Floun¬ 
 ders, with a lappet of Kippered Salmon, for Goodman Thirst’s sake 
 and a rare bowl of hot Coffee, which made us relish a Jug of Punch 
 afterward in a highly jocund manner. And then w r e fell to conver¬ 
 sation; and I, who had nothing to Conceal, and nothing to be 
 Ashamed of, did recount those of my Adventures which I deemed 
 would be most diverting (for I forbore to tell him those which were 
 tedious and uneventful) to Captain Blokes. And he, not to be be¬ 
 hindhand in frank confidence, told me how many years he had been 
 at sea; how many merchant vessels he had commanded; and what 
 Luck he had had in his divers Trading Adventures. Likewise that 
 he was now under engagement with some very worthy Merchants 
 of Bristol, to man, equip and command a vessel called the “ Mar¬ 
 quis,” which, in company with two others, the “ Hope ” and the 
 “ Delight,” were about to undertake a Cruising Voyage round the 
 World. Finding from my speech that I was not wholly unaccus¬ 
 tomed to the Sea, and being made acquaintedpvilh what I had done 
 in the West Indies and elsewhere, Captain Blokes was pleased to 
 say, that I w T as the very man for him, if I would join him. And at 
 this time, in verity, it seemed as though nothing could suit me bet¬ 
 ter; for my Resources w T ere quite exhausted, and I was brought 
 very Low. So, after some further parley, and a good Beefsteak 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 235 
 
 and Onions, and a bottle of Portugee Wine for dinner, we went to 
 the Scrivener’s in Thames Street, by the name of Pritchett, that 
 was Agent for the Company of Merchant Adventurers at Bristol; 
 and an Agreement was drawn up, by which, for Fifty Shillings a 
 Month pay, all due rations and allowances, and a certain proportion 
 of the profits to be divided among the Ship’s Company at the ter¬ 
 mination of our Adventure, I bound myself to serve Captain Blokes 
 as Secretary and Purser of the ship “ Marquis.” 
 
 “ Which means,” says he, when we had taken a Dram and 
 shaken hands on signing articles, “that you are to Write, Fight, 
 Drink, and keep Accompts, play put with me in the Cabin, assist 
 me in preserving the Discipline of the Ship, sing a good song when 
 you are called upon, help the Doctor to take care of the sick, and 
 see that the Steward don’t steal the Grog and Tobacco, and if 
 you’ll stick to me, by the Lord Harry, Billy Blokes will stick to 
 
 you. I like you because you were such a d-d fool as to go and 
 
 marry that old woman.” 
 
 "The next day we took Coachat the Swan, by Paddington Church, 
 for Bristol, and two days afterward arrived at that great and flour¬ 
 ishing Mercantile city. Nothing worthy of note on the road; the 
 Highwaymen, that were wont to be so troublesome, being mostly put 
 down, owing to Justice Fielding and De Yit’s stringent measures. 
 We were much beset with gangs of wild Irish coming over from 
 their own country a-harvesting in our fertile fields; and those gentry 
 were like to have bred a riot, quarreling with the English husband¬ 
 men at Stow. Being at Bristol, comfortably housed at the Bible and 
 Crown in Wine Street—the landlord much given to swearing, but 
 one of the best hands at making of Mum that ever I knew—Captain 
 Blokes had great work in settling business with the Company of 
 Merchant Adventurers and Alderman Quarterbutt, their President. 
 As it seems we were at war with the French and Spaniards, the 
 “ Marquis ” (burden about 320 tons) was to carry twenty-six guns 
 and a complement of 108 men letters of marque being granted to 
 us by private Commission, with secret instruction as to Prizes and 
 Plunder, so that the disposal of both should redound to the advan¬ 
 tage of the Mariners, the profit of our Employers, and the honor of 
 His Majesty’s arms. We had nigh double the usual complement of 
 officers usual in private ships, to prevent mutinies,' which ofttimes 
 happen in long voyages, and that we might have a large provision 
 for a succession of officers in case of Mortality. In the “ Marquis ” 
 we had Captain Blokes, commander-in-chief of the whole Arma¬ 
 ment, a Mariner; a Second Captain who was a Dr. of Physic, and 
 
CAPTAIN PANGF/ROUS. 
 
 23^ 
 
 also acted as President of our Committee (having much hook-learn¬ 
 ing) and Commander of the Marines; two Lieutenants; a Sailing- 
 Master; a Pilot that was well acquainted with the South Seas, hav¬ 
 ing been in those Latitudes twice before; a Surgeon and his Mate, 
 or Loblolly Boy; Self as Secretary and Purser; two young lawyers, 
 designed to act as Midshipmen; Giles Cash, as Reformado—that was 
 the title of courtesy given to those who were sent to sea in lieu of 
 being hanged; a Gunner and his crew; a Boatswain, cooper, car¬ 
 penter, sail-maker, smith, and armorer, ship’s,corporal, Sergeant of 
 Marines, cook; a Negro that could shave and play the firldle; and 
 the Ship’s company as aforesaid, one third of whom were foreigners 
 of every nation under the Sun, and of those that were His Majesty’s 
 subjects many Tinkers, Tailors, Hay-makers, Peddlers, etc.—a ter¬ 
 ribly mixed Gang, requiring much three-strand cord to keep ’em in 
 order. 
 
 On the 2d August, 1748, we weighed from King’s Road, by Bristol, 
 and at ten at night, having very little wind, anchored between the 
 Holms and Minehead. Coming on a fresh gale at S.E. and E.S.H, 
 we ran by Minehead at six in the morning.. Next day the wind 
 veered to N.E. and E.N.E.; on the 4tli there was but little wind, 
 and smooth water; on the 5th we saw Land; and finding that we 
 had overshot our port, which was Cork, came to an anchor at noon 
 off the two rocks near Kinsale. At eight at night we weighed, 
 having a Kinsale Pilot on board, who was like to have endangered 
 our safety, the night being dark and foggy, and the Pilot not under¬ 
 standing his Business; so that he nearly turned us into the next Bay 
 to the westward of Cork, which provoked Captain Blokes to chas¬ 
 tise him publicly on the quarter-deck. Our two consorts got into 
 Cork before us, and we did not anchor in the Cove until the 7th 
 August, at three in the afternoon. We stayed here until the 28tli 
 of the month, getting in stores and provisions, and replacing as 
 many of our tailors and hay-makers as we could with real Sailors 
 that could work the Ship. Our crew, however, were continually 
 Marrying while we were at Cork, to the great Merriment of Self 
 and Captain Blokes, who had seen enough and to spare of that 
 Game; but they would be Spliced, although they expected to sail 
 immediately; among others, there was a Danish man coupled by a 
 Romish Priest to an Irish woman, without understanding a word 
 of each other’s language, so that they were forced to use an inter¬ 
 preter; yet I perceived this pair seemed more afflicted at separation 
 than any of the rest. The Fellow continued melancholy for many 
 days after we were at Sea. The rest, understanding each other and 
 
CAPTAIN t>ANGEROUS. 
 
 237 
 
 the world better, drank their cans of Flip till the very last Minute, 
 concluded with a health to our good voyage and their next Happy 
 Meeting, and then Departed, quite unconcerned. 
 
 We took sailing orders on the 1st of September; and then Captain 
 Blokes discovered to the crew whither we were bound—that is to 
 say, on a four years’ voyage—in order that, if any Disorders should 
 arise among us, we might exchange our Malcontents while in com¬ 
 pany with one of his Majesty’s ships. But no complaint was found 
 on board the “ Marquis,” except from one fellow who was expected 
 to have been Tithing-man that year in his Parish, and said his wife 
 would be obliged to pay Forty shillings in his absence; but seeing 
 all hands satisfied, he was easily quieted, and drank with the rest 
 to a prosperous voyage. On the 2d September we, having cleaned 
 and tallowed our ships five streaks below the Water-line, the fiddler 
 struck up “ Lumps o’ Pudding,” and to follow that “ Cold and 
 Raw,” the Ship’s company joining chorus with a will, and so fell 
 down to the Spit End by the “ Culloden ” Man-of-War, as our two 
 Consorts had done the Night before. When we came to the Spit 
 End, Captain Blokes saluted the “ Culloden ” with Seven Guns, to 
 which they returned Five in courtesy, and then we again three for 
 thanks. And so commenced my Journey round the World. 
 
 CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH. 
 
 MERCATOR HIS PROJECTION, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 
 
 Meaning simply this, that I have often and often, as a little Lad, 
 gazed upon the Great Map—very yellow, and shiny, and cracked 
 on its canvas mounting it was—of the World, upon Mercator’s Pro¬ 
 jection, and devoutly longed for the day to arrive when it might be 
 my fortune to make a Voyage of Circumnavigation. Such a Map, 
 I remember, hung in the School-room at Gnawbit’s; and I have 
 often been cruelly beaten for gazing at it and pondering over it, 
 instead of endeavoring to commit to memory a quantity of Words, 
 the meaning of which I could not for the life of me understand. 
 
 Now, indeed, I had got my Desire, and was going round the 
 World in a Ship well found with Men and Stores, occupying myself 
 a responsible position, and one giving me some Authority, and 
 enjoying the full Confidence of my Commander, who was, both 
 when sober and inebriated (and he was mostly the latter), one of 
 the most sagacious men I ever knew. He spoke seldom, and then 
 
238 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 generally with a Hiccough; but what he said was always to the Pur¬ 
 pose. I doubt not, if Captain Blokes had been in the Royal Navy, 
 he would by this time be flying his pennant as Admiral. 
 
 ’Twould fill a volume to give you a Narrative, however brief, of 
 our Voyage. One does not go round the World quite so easily as a 
 Cit taking a Wherry from Lambeth Walk to Chelsea Reach. No, 
 no, my Masters; there are Perils to encounter, Obstacles to over¬ 
 come, Difficulties to surmount; and I flatter myself that Jack Dan¬ 
 gerous was not found wanting when a Stout Heart, a Strong Hand, 
 and a Clear Head were needed. I repeat that ’tis impossible for me 
 to give you an exact Log of so lengthy a Cruise; and you must 
 needs be content if I set down a few bare Items of the most notable 
 Things that befell us. 
 
 On the lltli September we chased a strange Sail, and after three 
 hours came up with her. She proved to be a Swedishman. After 
 firing a couple of Shots at full Random at her, to show that we 
 meant Mischief if provoked, and one of which Shots, 1 believe, 
 passed over her Taffrail, and killed a Black Servant and the Cap¬ 
 tain’s Monkey, Captain Blokes boarded her in his Yawl; examined 
 the Master, and searched the Ship for Contraband of War; but not 
 finding any save a supicious quantity of salted Reindeer’s Tongues, 
 our Committee agreed that she could not be considered a lawful 
 Prize; and hot being willing to hinder time by carrying her into 
 any Harbor for further Examination, we let her go without the 
 least Embezzlement. The Master gave us a dozen of his Reindeer 
 Tongues, and a piece of dry Roughed Beef; and we presented him 
 with a dozen bottles of Red-streak Cider. But while Captain Blokes 
 and the Dr. of Physic and Self were aboard the Swede taking asocial 
 Glass with him, our rascally crew took it into their heads to Mutiny, 
 their Grievance being that the vessel was a Contraband, and Dught 
 to be made a Prize of. The plain truth was, that the Rogues 
 thirsted for Plunder. The Boats wain was one of the Mutineers. 
 Him we caused to receive Four Dozen from the hands of his own 
 Mates, and well laid on; about a dozen of the rest we put in Irons, 
 after having Drubbed ’em soundly, and fed ’em on Bread-and 
 Water; but at the end of a few days they begged Pardon, and, on 
 promising Amendment, were allowed to return to their Duty. 
 
 Eighteenth September we came in sight of Pico Teneriffe, bearing 
 S.W. by W., distance about eight leagues. This day we spied a sail 
 under our Lee Bow, between the Islands of Grand Canaries and 
 Forteventura. She showed us a clean Pair of Heels; but we gave 
 Chase, and after seven hours came up with her. She proved a 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 239 
 
 Prize, safe enough; a Spanish Bark, about 25 tons, with some 45 
 Passengers, who rejoiced much when they found we were English, 
 having fancied that we were Turks or Sallee Rovers. Amongst 
 our Pi isoners were four Friars, and with them the Padre Guardian 
 of Forteventura, a good, honest old fellow, fat, and given to jollity. 
 Him we made heartily merry, drinking the Spanish King’s Health, 
 for naught else would he Toast. After we had made all Snug, we 
 stood to the Westward with our Prize to Teneriffe, to have her 
 ransomed, that is to say, her Hull; for her Cargo was not worth 
 redeeming, being extremely shabby—one or two Butts of Wine, a 
 Hogshead of Brandy, and other small matters, which we determined 
 to keep for our own use. The Spanish Dons made a mighty pother 
 about paying, pleading that the Trade of these Islands enjoyed an 
 immunity from Privateering by arrangement between his Catholic 
 Majesty and the King of Great Britain, and were even seconded by 
 some English Merchants of Teneriffe, that were frightened'at the 
 thought of the cruel Reprisals the Dons might exercise after we 
 went away, both on their Persons and Properties; for Jack Spaniard 
 is one that, if he can not have Meal, will have Malt. But we soon 
 let ’em know that Possession was Nine Points of the Law, and that 
 we were resolved to stick to our Prize unless we got Ransom, which 
 they presently agreed to. At eight o’clock the next morning we 
 stood into the Port, close to the Town, and spied a Boat coming off, 
 which proved to be the Deputy Governor, a Spanish Don with as 
 many names as an English pickpocket has Aliases, and one Mr. 
 Harbottle, that was English Vice-Consul. They brought us Wine, 
 Figs, grapes, Hogs, and other Necessaries, as Ransom in Kind for 
 the Bark; and accoidingly we restored her, as also the prisoners, with 
 as much as we could find of what belonged to their persons; although, 
 Truth to tell, some of our wild Reformadoes had used them some¬ 
 what unhandsomely. All the Books, Crucifixes, Reliques, and 
 other superstitious things, we carefully gave back to the Friars; to 
 the Padre a large Cheese, at which he was much delighted; and to 
 another Religious, who had been stripped nearly as bare as a Robin, 
 a pair of Breeches and a Red Niglit-cap. And so stood off, giving 
 Three Cheers for King George, and one, with better luck next time, 
 for the King of Spain; and I doubt not that they cursed us heartily 
 that same night in their Churches for Heretics. Now we had an 
 indifferent good stock of Liquor, to be the better able to endure the 
 Cold when we got to the Length of Cape Horn, which, we were 
 informed, had always very Cold Weather near it. 
 
 On the 25th, according to custom, wc Ducked those that had 
 
240 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 never passed the Tropic before. The manner of doing it was to 
 reeve a Rope in the Mainyard, to hoist ’em about half-way up to 
 the Yard, and let ’em fall at once into the Water; they being com¬ 
 fortably Trussed by having a Stick ’cross through their Legs, and 
 well fastened to the Rope, that they might not be surprised and let 
 go their Hold. This proved of great use to our Fresh-water Sailors 
 to recover the Color of their Skins, which had grown very Black 
 and Nasty. Those that we Ducked in this manner Three Times 
 were about 60; and others that would not undergo it could redeem 
 themselves by a Fine of Half-a-crown, to be Levied and Spent at a 
 Public Meeting of all the Ships’ Companies when we returned to 
 England. The Dutchmen we had on board, and some few English, 
 desired to be Ducked, some six, others eight and ten times, to have 
 the better title for being Treated when they came home. 
 
 On the 1st October we made St. Vincent, where our Water began 
 to smell insufferably; so had some Coopers from the Hope ” and 
 “ Delight ” to make us Casks, and take in a fresh Stock. 
 
 On the 3d we sent a boat to St. Antonio, with one of our Gunner’s 
 Crew that was a very fair Linguist, to get Truck for our Prize 
 Goods what we wanted; they having plenty of Cattle, Pigs, Goats, 
 Fowls, Melons, Potatoes, Limes, and ordinary Brandies, Tobacco, 
 Indian Corn, etc Our people were very meanly stocked with 
 Clothes; yet we were forced to watch our men very narrowly, and 
 Punish some of ’em smartly, to prevent their selling what Garments 
 they had, for mere Trifles, to the Negroes. 
 
 We got all we wanted by the 8th; but our Linguist gave us leg- 
 bail; and as he was much given to telling of Lies, we did not go to 
 the pains of sending a party of Marines on shore after him. This 
 is the place whither the Blacks come from St. Nicholas to make Oil 
 of Turtle for the anointing of their Nasty Bodies withal. There 
 was much good Green Turtle at this time of the year, which made 
 me think of my old Jamaica days; but our men, in a body, refused 
 to eat it, much preferring Salt Junk. 
 
 Item .—Many Flying Fish about here. 
 
 Nothing more worthy of note till the 22d October, when Mr. 
 Page, Second Mate, made an attack on his superior officer, the Doc¬ 
 tor of Physic, with a Marline-spike; and, but for a very large 
 Periwig he wore, which was accounted odd in one having a Mari¬ 
 time Command, would have finished him. Mr. Page was had to 
 the Forecastle and clapped in the Bilboes, and Captain Blokes was 
 for Hanging him off-hand as an Example to the rest; but I, as 
 Secretary, pointed out to him that there was no Power of Life and 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEllOUS. 
 
 241 
 
 Death in our Instructions, and that it would be folly to run the 
 risk of a Praemunire when w r e made Home again. With much 
 trouble I succeeded in dissuading him from his design; so that the 
 Mate was only lashed to the Main-gears and soundly Drubbed. 
 Fair, pleasant Weather, and a fresh Gale. One that had secreted 
 a Peruke, and a pair of scarlet Stockings with Silver Clocks, out of 
 the plunder of the Spanish Bark, did also receive Rib-roasting 
 enough (this was on a Sunday, after Prayers) to last him for a 
 Fortnight. 
 
 On the 10th of November, after a Terrific Tornado and Thunder 
 and Lightning, that frightened some of our Tailors and Hay-makers 
 half into Fits, we came to an Anchor in 22-fathom water, in a sandy 
 bay off the land of Brazil. Caught some Tortoises for their Shells, 
 for they have too strong a taste to be Eatable. A Portugee boat 
 came from a Cove in the Island of Grande,on our Starboard side, 
 and said they had been robbed by the French not long since. Cap¬ 
 tain Blokes, the Doctor, and Self went ashore to Angre de Keys, as 
 it is called in Sea-Draughts; but, as the Portugee call it, Nostra 
 Senora de la Concepcion, a small village about three leagues distant, 
 to wait on the Governor, and make him a present of Butter and 
 Cheese. As we neared the shore, the People, taking us for 
 Mounseers, fired a few Musquetoons at us, which did us no Hurt; 
 and when they found out who w r e were, they very Humbly Begged 
 our Pardon. The Friars invited us to their Convent, and told us 
 they had been so often stripped and abused by King Lewis’s frog¬ 
 eating Subjects, that they were obliged to take measures to Defend 
 themselves; and, indeed, ’twas these said Padres who had fired at 
 us. The Governor was gone to Rio Janeiro, a city about twelve 
 leagues distant, but was expected back next day. We got our 
 empty Casks ashore, and sent our Carpenter, with a friendly Portu¬ 
 gee, to look out Wood for Trustle-trees, both our Main and Fore 
 being broke; but the Weather was so Wet and violent Sultry, that 
 we could do nothing. Here are abundant Graves of Dead Men; 
 and the Portugees told us that two great French Ships, homeward 
 bound from the South Seas, that Watered in this same place about 
 nine months before, had buried nearly half their men here; but ’twas 
 at the Sickly season, and the French had a marvelous foul way of 
 Living. The people very Civil; and we offered ’em handsome 
 Gratuities if they would calch such of pur men as might run away, 
 which they promised to do most Cheerfully. 
 
 Hearing of a Brigantine (this was some days afterward) at the 
 entrance of the Bay of Grande, we sent our Pinnace manned and 
 
242 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 armed to know all about her. She turned out to be a Portugee 
 laden with Negroes, poor Creatures! for the Gold-mines. Our boat 
 returned, and brought as presents a Roove of Fine Sugar and a Pot 
 of Sweetmeats from the Master, who spoke a little English, and 
 had formerly sailed with ’em. The Portugee are cautious in saying 
 how far it is to the Gold-mines; but, I believe, the distance by 
 water is not great; and there is certainly abundance of Gold in the 
 country. The French took about £1200 worth out of their boats 
 last autumn at one Haul, which makes the Portugees hate ’em so. 
 Some of ’em brought us a Monstrous Creature which they had 
 killed, having Prickles or Quills like a Hedgehog, and the head and 
 tail of a Monkey. It stunk abominably, which the Portugees said 
 was only the Skin, and that the Meat of it was very Delicious, and 
 often used for the table; but our men not being yet on Short Com¬ 
 mons, none of ’em had Stomach enough to try the Experiment, so 
 that we were forced to throw it overboard to make a Sweet Ship. 
 Our people could now hardly go ashore without being frightened, 
 as they thought, by Tigers, and holloaing to be taken on board 
 again; but there was nothing more dangerous hereabouts than Apes 
 and Baboons. 
 
 Twenty-seventh November was a grand Festival at Angre de Keys, 
 in honor of one of their Saints. We, and most of our officers from 
 the “ Hope ” and the “ Delight,” went ashore and were received by 
 the Governor, Signor Raphael da Silva Lagos, with much civility. 
 He asked if we would see the Convent and Procession; and on our 
 telling him our Religion differed very much from his, answered that 
 we were welcome to see it without partaking in the Ceremony. 
 We waited on him in a Body, being ten of us, with two Trumpets 
 and Hautboys, which he desired might play us to Church, where 
 our Music did the office of an Organ, but separate from the Sing¬ 
 ing, which was very well chanted by the Padres. Our Trumpets 
 and Hautboys played “ Hey, Boys, up go we!” and all manner of 
 paltry noisy tunes; and, after service, the Musicians, who were by 
 this time more than half-drunk, marched at the head of the Com¬ 
 pany; next to them an old Padre and two Friars, carrying Lamps 
 of Incense. Then the Image of the Saint, as Fine as a Milk-maid’s 
 Garland, borne on a Bier, all spangled, on the shoulders of four 
 men, and bedizened out with Flowers, Wax-candles, etc. After 
 these, the Padre Guardian of the Convent, and about forty Priests 
 in their full Habits. Next came the Governor; Captain Blokes, in 
 a blue Navy Coat laced with Gold, a pair of scarlet-velvet Breeches, 
 and a Military Hat; and the rest of the English officers in their 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 243 
 
 very best Apparel. I was fit to die a-laughing, and whispered to 
 our Doctor of Physic, that had I known I was fated to walk in 
 such a Procession, I would never have sold mv old Tower Warder’s 
 slashed doublet to the Frippery Man in Monmouth Street, but would 
 have brought it round the World with me to wear at this Outland¬ 
 ish place. Each of us had moreover, in Compliment to his Saint- 
 ship, a long Candle, lighted, in his hand; the which gave us great 
 Diversion, flaring the tapers about, and seeking to smoke one an¬ 
 other. The Ceremony held about two hours, after which we were 
 splendidly entertained at the Convent, and then by the Governor at 
 the Guard-house, his own habitation being about three leagues off. 
 It is to be noted, they Kneeled at every Crossway, and turning, 
 walked round the Convent, and came in at another door, bowing 
 down and paying their devotion to the Images and the Wax-candles, 
 with the like superstitious observances. They unanimously told us, 
 however, that they expected nothing from us but our Company; 
 and, beyond the Trumpets and Hautboys, and a jolly Song or two 
 from us, they had no more. Many Sharks were in the Road, that 
 keep the Negro Slaves in good order, should they, poor Black Fel¬ 
 lows, attempt Escape to any foreign ship by swimming to her. But 
 the Portugees are not very hard with their Negroes, save up at the 
 Gold-mines, where Mercy is quite unknown. Aqua d’oro may be 
 a very good Eye-water; but, sure, there’s nothing like it for hard¬ 
 ening of the Heart. 
 
 On the 28th of this Month we bade farewell to our kind friends 
 of Angre de Keys. Just before sailing we sent a Boat to the town 
 for more Necessaries, and brought off some Gentlemen, whom we 
 treated to the very best we could. They were very glorious, and 
 in their Cups proposed the Pope’s Health to us; but we were quits 
 with ’em by toasting that of the Archbishop of Canterbury; and, 
 to keep up the humor, we also proposed Martin Luther; but this 
 fell flat, as they had never Heard of him; whereas that of his Grace 
 at Lambeth turned out rather against us than for us; for they cried 
 out that they knew him very well, and that he was a Catholic Saint, 
 under the style and title of San Tomaso de Cantorberi. 
 
 December 1st, we weighed with a breeze at N.E.: but later came 
 on a gale S.S.W., forcing us to anchor close under the Island of 
 Grande. About 10 next morning we weighed again, and bore away 
 and steered away S.W. Now the product of Brazil is well known 
 to be Red Wood, Sugars, Gold, Tobaccos (of every kind, and very 
 choice), Whale Oil, Snuff, and several sorts of Drugs. The Portu¬ 
 gees build their best ships here. The people very Martial; and 
 
244 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 ’tis but a few years since they would be under no Government, but 
 have now submitted to the House of Braganza, which makes a 
 Pretty Penny out of them. Their Customs are very nasty; their 
 Houses marvelously foul; and they are forever smoking of Tobacco; 
 but the Portugees are still a veiy friendly folk, cordial to us En¬ 
 glish, although they call us Heretics, and, but for their great love 
 for roasting Jews, very tender-hearted. I like them much better 
 than those Proud Paupers the Spaniards. A Beggar on Horseback 
 is bad enough; but Goodness deliver us from a Beggar on an An¬ 
 dalusian Jackass! 
 
 Memorandum .—Brazil discovered by the famous Americus Yes- 
 pucius, that came after Captain Christopher Colomb. 
 
 Nothing remarkable happened until December 6th, when we had 
 close cloudy Weather, with Showers; and, after that, some pretty 
 sharp Gales. On the 15th the color of the water changed; and we 
 sounded, but had no ground. On the 18th one of the “Hope’s” 
 men fell out of the Mizzentop on the Quarter-deck, and broke his 
 Skull; so that he died, and was buried next day. A brisk fellow, 
 that; from his merry ways used to be called Brimstone Jemmy. 
 After this, cold airy weather, and numbers of Porpoises, black on 
 their backs and fins, with sharp white Noses. They often leaped 
 high up in the water, showing their white bellies. Also, a plenty 
 of Seals. December 23d we saw Land, appearing first in three, and 
 afterward in several Islands. The Wind being westerly, and blow¬ 
 ing fresh, we could not weather it, but were forced to bear away 
 and run along Shore from three to four leagues distant. This we 
 saw first was Falkland’s Land, described in few Draughts, and 
 none lay it down right, though the Latitude agrees pretty well. 
 December 25th saw Land again; but could not get near enough to 
 see whether it was inhabited; in truth we were too much in a hurry 
 to think of making Discoveries; for at four in the Afternoon we 
 sighted a sail under our Leebow, gave chase, and got ground of her 
 apace till Night came on. In the Morning we saw nothing, it being 
 thick hazy Weather; then, as ill luck would have it, it fell Calm, 
 and having nothing else to do we Piped all hands to Punishment, 
 and gave the Cook three dozen for burning Captain Blokes’s burgoo. 
 Then Grog served out, and we took an Observation. Lat. 52 40. 
 
 We kept on rowing and towing with Sweeps, and our Boats 
 ahead, until about six in the Evening; and the Chase appearing to 
 be a large ship, we sent Boats aboard our Consort, and agreed to 
 engage her. A fine breeze sprung up, and we got in our Sweeps 
 
CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 245 
 
 and Boast, maikng all possible sail; it came on thick again; but we 
 kept her open on the Larboard, and the ‘ ‘ Hope ’ ’ and ‘ ‘ Delight ’ ’ 
 on the Starboard bow, and it being now Short Nights, we thought 
 it impossible to lose one another. But the Master persuaded our 
 Commander to shorten sail, saying that we should lose our Consorts 
 if we kept on. Another Fog, and be hanged to it; but the next 
 morning the Yellow Curtain was lifted up, and we saw the Chase 
 about four miles ahead, which gave us a new Life. We ran at a 
 great Rate, it being smooth water; but it coming on to blow more 
 and more, the Chase outbore our Consorts, and being to windward, 
 she gave off, and came down very melancholy to us, supposing her 
 to be a French Homeward-bound Ship from the South Seas. Thus, 
 this Ship escaped; and left us all, from the Commander to the 
 Cabin-boys (who had a hard time of it that night, you may be sure), 
 in the most doleful Dumps. 
 
 Strong Gales to the 1st of January. This being New Year’s-day, 
 every officer was wished a Merry New Year by our Trumpets and 
 Hautboys; and we had a large tub of Punch, hot, upon the Quarter¬ 
 deck, where every man in the Ship had above a Pint to his share, 
 and drank to our Owners’ and Friends’ healths in Great Britain, to 
 a Happy New Year, a good Voyage, plenty of Plunder (Woe is me 
 for that Homeward-bound Frenchman from the Southern Seas!), 
 and a Safe Return. And then we bore down on our Consorts and 
 gave them three Huzzas, Wishing them the like. 
 
 Now, it being very raw cold Weather, we very much dreaded 
 scudding upon Ice; so we fired Guns as Signals for the “ Hope ” 
 and “ Delight ” to bring to, and on the 5th of January brought 
 ourselves to, under the same reefed Topsails. We feared at one 
 time, from our Consorts having an Ensign in their Maintop Mast- 
 shrouds, as a Signal of Distress, that they had sprung their Main¬ 
 mast; so we made the Large again, our Ship working very well in 
 a mighty great sea. When we were able to get within Hail of our 
 Consorts, we asked them how they did, and how they had come to 
 hoist the Wretched Rag. They answered, Pretty well, but that 
 they had shipped a great deal of Water in lying by, and being 
 forced to put before the wind, the Sea had broke in at the Cabin 
 Windows, filling the Steerage and Waste, and was like to have 
 spoiled several Men; but, Lleaven be thanked, all else was indifferent 
 well with ’em; only it was intolerably Cold, and everything Wet. 
 Captain Blokes sent me on board the “ Delight ” in our Yawl, and I 
 found them in a very disorderly Pickle, with all their Clothes a-dry- 
 ing; the Ship and Rigging covered with ’em from the Deck to the 
 
246 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Maintop. They got six of their Guns into the Hold, to make the 
 Ship lively. 
 
 Aboard the “ Marquis ” died, on the 8th, John Veale, a Landsman, 
 having lain ill a Fortnight, and had a Swelling in the Legs ever 
 since he left the Island of Grande. At nine at night we buried 
 him; and this was the first we had lost by Sickness since we left 
 England. Until the 15tli, cloudy Weather with Squalls of Rain, 
 and fresh Gales at S.W. We now accounted ourselves round Cape 
 Horn, and so in the South Seas. The French ships that first came 
 to trade in these seas were wont to come through the Straits of 
 Magellan; but Experience has taught ’em since, that this is the 
 best Passage to go round the Horn, where they have Sea Room 
 enow, without being crushed and crowded as at a Ranelagh Mas¬ 
 querade; and the Straits are in many places very narrow^, with 
 strong Tides and no Anchor Ground. 
 
 On the 31st of January, at seven in the Morning, we made the 
 Island of Juan Fernandez, bearing W.S.W., and about two in the 
 Afternoon we hoisted our Pinnace out, and essayed to send one of 
 our Lieutenants ashore, though we could not be less than four 
 leagues off. As soon as it was Dark our men cried out that they 
 saw a Light ashore; our Boat was then about a mile from the Shore, 
 and bore away fur the Ship on our firing a Quarter-deck Gun, and 
 several Muskets, showing Lanterns in our Mizzen and Foreshrouds, 
 that the Pinnace might find us again, whilst we plied to the lee of 
 the Island. About two in the Morning she came aboard, all safe. 
 Next day we sent our Yawl ashore about noon with the Master and 
 Six Men, all well Armed; meanwhile we cleared all ready for 
 Action on board the “ Marquis.” Our Boat did not return, so we 
 sent our Pinnace, with the Crew, likewise Armed; for we were 
 afraid that the Spaniards might have had a Garrison there, and so 
 seized ’em. However, the Pinnace returned, and brought abun¬ 
 dance of Crawfish, but found nothing human; so that the alarm 
 about the Light must have been a mere superstition of the Ship’s 
 Company. 
 
 It was at this same Island of Juan Fernandez, in the year of 
 our Lord 1708-9, that Captain Woodes Rogers, commanding the 
 “ Duke ” Frigate, and with whom also Captain Dam pier, that 
 famous Circumnavigator, sailed, found a Man clothed in Goat¬ 
 skins, who looked wilder than they who had been the first owners 
 of ’em. He had been on the Island four years and four months, 
 being left there by Captain Stradling in the “ Cinque Ports;” his 
 name was Alexander Selkirk, a Scottish man, who had been Sailing- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 24 7 
 
 Master to the “ Cinque Ports;” but quarreling with the Commander, 
 was by him accused of Mutiny, and so Abandoned on this Unin¬ 
 habited Island. During his stay he saw several Ships pass by, but 
 only two came to an Anchor. As he went to view ’em he found 
 they were Spaniards, and so retired, upon which they Shot at him. 
 Had they been French he would have submitted; but chose to risk 
 his dying alone on the Island rather than fall into the hands of the 
 Spaniards, because he apprehended they would Murder him, or 
 make a Slave of him in the Mines; for he feared they would spare 
 no Stranger that might be capable of Discovering the South Sea. He 
 had with him when left his Clothes and Bedding, with a Firelock, 
 some Powder, Bullets, and Tobacco, a Hatchet, a Knife, a Kettle, 
 a Bible, some practical Pieces and some Mathematical Instruments 
 and Books. During the first eight months of his stay he suffered 
 much from Melancholy and Terror; but afterward got on pretty 
 well. He built two Huts with Pimento Wood, which he also 
 burned for Fuel and Candle; and which, besides, refreshed him 
 with its fragrant smell. He had grown very Pious in his Retreat, 
 and was much given to singing of Psalms, having before led a very 
 naughty life. Being a very good sailor, Captain Woodes Rogers 
 took him away with him as Second Mate. He told ’em that he had 
 been at first much pestered with Cats and Rats, the latter of which 
 gnawed his feet and clothes, so that he was obliged to cherish the 
 Cats with Goat’s-flesh, and they grew so familiar with him as to 
 lie about him in hundreds. But I can not stay to recount half the 
 wonderful Adventures of Mr. Selkirk. I knew him afterward, a 
 very old man, lodging with one Mrs. Branbody, that kept a Chan¬ 
 dler’s Shop over against the Jews’ Harp Tavern at Stepney. He 
 was wont bitterly to complain that the Manuscript in which he had 
 written down an Account of his Life at Juan Fernandez had been 
 cozened out of him by some crafty Book-sellers; and that a Para¬ 
 phrase, or rather Burlesque, of it, in a most garbled and mutilated 
 form, had been printed as a Children’s Story-book, under the name 
 of “ Robinson Crusoe.” This was done by one Mr. Daniel Foe, a 
 Newswriter, who, in my Youth, stood in the Pillory by Temple 
 Bar, for a sedition in some plaguy Church-matters. But it is fitting 
 to let these Gentry know that they have Ears, lest they become too 
 Saucy. 
 
248 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH. 
 
 THE CONTINUATION OF MY VOYAGE UNTIL MY RETURN AGAIN TO 
 
 EUROPE. 
 
 Now, being got away from Juan Fernandez, did an unconquer¬ 
 able Greed and Longing for Prize and Plunder come over us; and 
 did we sweep the Horizon hour after hour as long as it was Light, 
 in hope of satisfaction to our long-deferred Hope. March 2d we 
 sighted Land, and a vast high ridge of Mountains they call the Cor¬ 
 dilleras, and are in the Country of Chili. Some parts are, I be¬ 
 lieve, full as high, if not higher, than Ihe Pico of Teneriffe, and 
 the tops of all of ’em covered with Snow. This day we came to 
 an allowance of Three Pints of Water a day for each man; judging 
 it best to be Economical, although we had a good stock of water 
 aboard (taken in at Juan Fernandez); but Captain Blokes’s reason 
 was, to be able to keep at Sea for some time longer, and take some 
 Prizes to keep the Deuce out of our pockets, without being dis¬ 
 covered by Watering; for our South-Sea Pilot told us that the 
 timorous people of these Latitudes once smelling an Enemy hover¬ 
 ing about, will put to sea with nothing of value from one end of 
 the Coast to the other. Much baffled by several white Rocks that 
 looked like Ships, and Captain Blokes much incensed at continual 
 Disappointments, takes to making the Cabin-boy weaiy of his life; 
 and after drubbing him with a Rope’s-end three times doubled, was 
 for sousing him in the Pickle-tub; but I dissuaded him (remember¬ 
 ing the Torments I had myself endured as a Moose; and even now 
 when I think of ’em I am Afraid, and Trembling takes hold of my 
 Flesh), and so no more was Done to him. beyond a Threat that he 
 should be Keel hauled next time; although the poor lad had in no 
 way misbehaved himself. We got the two Pinnaces into the water, 
 to try ’em under sail, having fixed each of ’em with a Gun, after 
 the manner of a Patterero, to be useful as small Privateers, hoping 
 they’d be serviceable to us in little winds to take vessels. March 
 15th, Land again, and we supposed it was Lobos; and sure enough, 
 on the 17th, we got well unto anchor off that Island, but found no¬ 
 body at the place. On the 19th we determined to fit out our small 
 Bark for a Privateer, and launched her into blue water, under the 
 name of the “ Beginning.” To his great pride and delight, Captain 
 Blokes appointed the Doctor of Physic to command her. She was 
 
CAPTAIK DANGEROUS. 
 
 249 
 
 well built for sailing, so she was had round to a small Cove in the 
 Southernmost part of Lobos. A small Spar out of the “ Marquis ” 
 made a Mainmast for her, and one of our Mizzen Topsails was altered 
 to make her a Mainsail. March 21st, all being ready, and the “ Be¬ 
 ginning ” christened by Captain Blokes’s emptying a Bowl of hot 
 Punch over her bow, she was victualed from the general store; and 
 the Doctor of Physic, who, for all his Degree, claimed to be a good 
 Mariner, took possession of his high and important command. 
 Twenty men from our ship, and ten from our Consorts, were put 
 aboard her, all well Armed. We saw her out of the Harbor, and 
 she looked very pretty, having all Masts, Sails, Rigging, and Ma¬ 
 terials, like one of those Half Galleys fitted out for his Majesty’s 
 Service in England. They gave our Ship’s Company three Huzzas, 
 and we returned them the like at parting. We told the Captain- 
 Doctor that if we were forced out of the Road, or gave chase hence, 
 we would leave a Glass Bottle, buried under a remarkable Great 
 Stone agreed upon, with Letters in it, to give an Account of how it 
 was with us at the moment of our Departure, and where to meet 
 again. And he was to do the like. When the “ Beginning ” was 
 gone we fell to and scrubbed Ship, getting abundance of Barnacles 
 off her much bigger than Mussels. Seals numerous, but not so 
 many as at Juan Fernandez. A large one seized upon a fat Dutch¬ 
 man that belonged to us, and had like to have pulled him into the 
 water, biting him to the bone about the arms and legs. This Hol¬ 
 lander was henceforth known as the Lord Chancellor, having been 
 so very near the Great Seal. After barnacling, we gave the 
 “ Marquis ” a good Keel, and Tallowed her low down. Another 
 Dutchman we had died of the Scurvy. His Messmates said that it 
 was because we had no more Cheese aboard, and that he could not 
 catch Red Herrings by angling for Ihem in Blue Water. 
 
 March 28th. The little “ Beginning ” came in with a Prize, 
 called the “ Santa Josepha, ” bound from Guayaquil to Truxillo, 
 50 tons burden, full of Timber, with some Cocoanuts and Tobacco. 
 A very paltry Spoil. There were about twelve Spaniards aboard, 
 who told us (after some little Persuasion, in the way of Drubbing) 
 that the Widow of the late Viceroy of Peru would shortly embark 
 at Acapulco, with her Family and Riches, and stop at Payta to Re¬ 
 fresh; and that about eight months ago there was a Galleon with 
 200,000 pieces of Eight on board, that passed Payta on her way to 
 Acapulco. They continued, however, to Lie and Contradict them¬ 
 selves when questioned; and so (as they howled most dismally on 
 deck while under Punishment) they were had down to the Cockpit, 
 
250 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 where the Boatswain and his Mates had their Will of them, and I 
 don’t know what became of them afterward. These Spanish Pris¬ 
 oners give a great deal of Trouble. 
 
 April 2d. The Superstitious among us were heartily frightened 
 at the color of the Water, which for several miles looked as Red as 
 any Blood. Some fellows among the crew that were of a Preach¬ 
 ing Turn, gave out that this unusual appearance was an Omen, or 
 Warning to us of Judgments coming for what had been done to the 
 Spanish Prisoners (in the which Duresse I declare I had no hand; 
 ’twas all done by Captain Blokes’s orders, and ’tis very likely that 
 the Boatswain, who was a Rough Fellow, very ignorant, exceeded 
 his instructions). It was explained, however, that this Sanguinary 
 Hue in the water was a perfectly natural appearance, caused by the 
 Spawn of Fish; and two or three of the preaching fellows being 
 had to the Maingears and well Drubbed, Grog was served out to 
 the rest, and an Alarm, which might have bred a Mutiny, soon 
 subsided. 
 
 But Huzza! on the 5th of April we had things more substantial 
 to think of than Red Seawater; for we took, after a very slight 
 Resistance, a Ship called the “Ascension,” built Galleon-fashion, 
 very high, with Galleries, Burden between 400 and 500 tons, and 
 two Brothers Commanders, both Dons of families that were Gran¬ 
 dees 500 years before Adam was born, and of course with five-and- 
 twenty Christian Names apiece. She had a number of Passengers 
 and some fifty Negroes; but the former being persons of Condition, 
 far above the Common Sort, and not poor Coasting people, such as 
 were those in the Timber Bark, we used ’em handsomely. They, 
 without any such persuasion as was emplo} T ed to their forerunners, 
 told us that the Bishop of Chokeaqua, a place far up the Country 
 in the South Parts of Peru, was to have come from Panama in this 
 vessel for Lima, but would stop at Payta to Recruit. Being near 
 that place, we resolved to Watch narrowly, in order to catch his 
 Lordship. 
 
 Now to the Norrard, and on the 10th of April we were off the 
 Hummocks they call the Saddle of Payta; and being very Calm, 
 we held a Court Martial on one of our Midshipmen who had 
 threatened to shoot one of our men when at Lobos, merely for re¬ 
 fusing to carry some Crows that he had shot. The Court was held 
 in Captain Blokes’s Cabin, and consisted of the Commander, Self, 
 First-Lieutenant, assisted in our deliberations by sundry pipes of 
 Tobacco and a great Jug of Punch. Found Guilty. Sentenced to 
 be Degraded before the Mast, to have his Grog stopped for a Fort- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 251 
 
 night, and to receive Four Dozen at the Gun (for he being a kind 
 of Officer, we did not wish to Humiliate him on deck). Half of 
 his punishment he endured with more doleful Squalling than ever 
 I heard from a Penitent in my Life, although the Boatswain was 
 very tender with him, and three Tails of the Cat were tied up. He 
 begged pardon, and so Captain Blokes remitted him the rest of his 
 Punishment. This Midshipman was one who sung a very good 
 Song; and so a Cushion being brought to Ease him, we finished the 
 Evening and the Punch jovially enough, he being before the end in 
 high favor with the Commander, and promised his Rating back 
 again. 
 
 April 15. The Officers of all Three Ships met on board the 
 “ Marquis, ” and the Committee came to a Resolution to attack 
 Guayaquil at once. The Bark we had called the “ Beginning ” by 
 this time had come back to us, having done nothing and found 
 nothing, since its first prize, except a great Sea Lubber, some kind 
 of Monster that the Doctor of Physic had caught and wanted to 
 preserve in Rum, to make a Present of to the Royal Society when 
 we came home; but we forbade his wasting good Liquor for so un¬ 
 worthy an end, and the Monster, smelling intolerably, was thrown 
 overboard. ’Twoukl have caused me no great sorrow to see the 
 Doctor follow his Prodigy, for he was a very uncomfortable Person, 
 and w T as much given to cheating at Cards. 
 
 April 20th. To our Boats oil Guayaquil, a Great Company of - 
 Men and Officers all armed to the teeth. We rowed till 12 at night, 
 when we saw Lights, which we judged to be a place called Puna. 
 It blew fresh, with a small rolling Sea, the Boat I commanded being 
 deep laden and crammed with men; some of us said they would 
 rather be in a Storm at Sea than here; but, in regard we were about 
 a charming Undertaking, we thought no Fatigue too hard. At 
 day-break we saw a Bark above us in the River; and, running down 
 upon her, found it was a large Pinnace, full of the most consider¬ 
 able Inhabitants of Puna, escaping toward Guayaquil. Here were 
 at least a dozen handsome genteel young Women, extremely well 
 dressed, and from them our men got some fine Gold Chains and 
 Ear-rings. Some of these Nickknacks were concealed about ’em; but 
 the Gentlewomen in these parts being very thinly dressed in Silk 
 and Fine Linen, they could hide but little, and our Linguist was 
 bidden to advise them to be Wise in Time, and surrender their 
 Valuables, which they did. And so civil were our Sailors to them, 
 that they offered to dress some Victuals for us when we got ’em 
 aboard; which made us hope that the Fair Sex would be kind to us 
 
252 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 when we returned to England, for our discreet behavior to these 
 charming Prisoners. 
 
 ******* 
 
 I am afraid that during the Attack on Guayaquil, which took 
 place the next day, and continued for the three following ones, 
 when the place Capitulated to our force, and a Treaty was signed 
 between our Commanders and the Governor and Corregidor of 
 Guayaquil, sundry proceedings took place that would not very well 
 have squared with the public ideas of what is due to the Fair Sex 
 just treated of; but I declare that I had neither Art nor Part in 
 them, and that I am entirely Free from any Responsibility that 
 Censure might cast on the Authors of Cruel Disturbances: for early 
 in the Attack I was hit by a Musket-ball in the chest, and borne 
 senseless to our Boats. That I did my Duty bravely, my Com¬ 
 mander was good enough to say, and the whole Ship’s Company to 
 admit. I was carried away to the “ Marquis,” and for a long time 
 lay between Hawk and Buzzard; for a smart Fever came about the 
 third day,-like Burgundy wine after Sherris, and I was for a while 
 quite off my head and Raving about Old Times—about Captain 
 Night and the Blacks, and Maum Buckey and her Negro Washer¬ 
 women, and my Campaign against the Maroons, and some Other 
 Things that had befallen me during those fifteen years which I 
 have chosen to leave a Blank in my life, and which I scorn to deny 
 'did—some of them—lie heavy on my Conscience. All these were 
 mixed up with the old Gentleman at Gnawbit’s, and my Lord Lovat 
 with his head off, and my Grandmother in Hanover Square; so 
 that I doubt whether those who tended me knew what to make of 
 me. There was some difficulty, too, as to medical attendance, for 
 we had cashiered our Surgeon—that is to say, he had run away at 
 Grande in the Brazils, to marry a brown Portugee woman; and the 
 Doctor of Physic he was all for Herbal Treatment, demanding Suc¬ 
 cory, Agrimony, Asarabacca, Kniglits-pound-wort, Cuckoo-point, 
 Hulver-bush, with Alelioof, and other things not to be found in 
 this part of the World. And Captain Blokes said that he knew 
 nothing half so good for a Gunshot Wound as cold Rum and 
 Water; and between the two I had like to have died, but all were 
 very kind to me, even to extracting the Ball with a Pair of Snuffers; 
 and a great clumsy thing the said missile was, being, I verily be¬ 
 lieve, part of a Doorliinge which these clumsy Spanish Brutes had 
 broken off short to cram into their Guns; and yet it might have 
 gone worse with me had- it been a smooth round cast Bullet, and 
 drilled a clean Wound right through my Body, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 253 
 
 As I was coming round, even to the taking of some Sangaree and 
 Chicken Panada (for we were now very well provided with Live 
 Stock), the Captain said to me: 44 You ha’n’t murdered a man, 
 Brother, have you?” 
 
 I replied, starting up, that my hands were free from the stain of 
 Blood unrighteously spilled. 
 
 “ No offense, Brother Dangerous,” continued the Captain. “ In 
 our line of life we ar’n’t particular. It wouldn’t take very dirty 
 weather to make our Ensign look like a Black Flag. Piracy and 
 Prival eering—they both begin with a P. I thought you had some¬ 
 thing o’ that sort on your mind, because you took it so woundily 
 about being hanged.” 
 
 “ I have had a strange life,” I answered, faintly. 
 
 “ No doubt about that,” says the Captain. 44 So have I, Brother, 
 and not an overgood one: that's why I asked you. If the old 
 woman hadn’t been in the oven herself, she’d never have gone there 
 to look for her daughter. But have you anything on your mind, 
 Brother? Is there anything that Billy Blokes can do for you?” 
 
 I answered, very gratefully, that there was nothing I could think 
 of. 
 
 “ ’Cause why,” he resumed, 44 if there is, you have only to sing 
 out. If you think you’re like to slip your Cable, and would like to 
 say something, we’ve got a Padre on board out of the last Prize, 
 and he shall come and do the Right Thing for you. You don’t 
 know anything about his lingo; but what odds is that? Spanish, 
 or Thieves’ Latin, or rightdown Cockney—it’s all one when the 
 word’s given to pipe all hands. ” 
 
 I answered that I was no Papist, but a humble member of the 
 Church of England as by Law established. 
 
 44 Of course, ” concluded the Captain. 44 So am I. God bless 
 King George and the Protestant Succession, and confound the 
 Pope, the Devil, and the Pretender! But any Port in a storm, you 
 know; and a Padre’s better than no Prayers at all. I’ve done all I could 
 for you, Brother. I’ve read you most part of the story of Bel and the 
 Dragon, likewise the Articles of War, and a lot of psalms out of 
 Sternhold and Hopkins; and now, if you feel skeery about losing 
 the number of your mess. I’ll make your Will for you, to be all 
 shipshape before the Big Wigs of London. There must be a matter 
 of Four Hundred Pounds coming to you already for your share of 
 Plunder; and no one shall say that Billy Blokes ever robbed a Mess* 
 mate of even a twopenny tester of his Rights.” 
 
 Again I thanked this singular person, who, for all his Addicted- 
 
25 4 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 ness to Rum-and-Water, of which he drank vast quantities, was 
 one ot the most Sagacious men I have known. But I told him that 
 I had neither kith nor kin belonging to me; that I did not even know 
 the name of my Father and Mother; and that my Grandmother, 
 even, was an Unknown Lady, and had been dead nigh forty years. 
 Finally, that if I made any Will, it would only be to the effect that 
 my Property, if any, might be divided among the Ship’s Company 
 of the “ Marqu's,” witti a donative of Fifty Guineas to the “ Hope ” 
 and “ Delight ” people to drink to my Memory. 
 
 “Ay, and to a pleasant journey to Fiddler’s Green,” cries out 
 the Captain. “ But cheer up, Heart; ye’re not weighed for the 
 Long Journey yet.” Nor had I; for I presently recovered, and in 
 less than a month after my Mishap was again whole and fit for 
 Duty. And I have set this down in order to confute those malig¬ 
 nant men who have declared that all my Wounds were from Stripes 
 between the Shoulders; whereas I can show the marks, 1°, of an 
 English Grenadier’s bayonet; 2°, of a Frenchman’s sword; 3 Q , of 
 a Spanish bullet; with many more Scars gotten as honorably, and 
 which it would be only braggadocio to tell the History of. 
 
 Item .—The Corregidores, or Head-Men, of Guayaquil are great 
 Thieves. The Mercenary Viceroys, not being permitted to Trade 
 themselves, do use the Corregidores as middle-men, and these again 
 employ a third hand; so that ships are constantly employed carry¬ 
 ing Quicksilver, and all manner of precious and prohibited goods, 
 to and from Mexico out of by-ports. Thus, loo, being their own 
 Judges, they get vast Estates, and stop all complaints in Old Spain 
 by Bribes. But now and then comes out a Viceroy who is a Man 
 of Honesty and Probity, and will have none of these Scoundrely 
 ways of Making Money (like Mr. Henry Fielding among the Trad¬ 
 ing Justices, a Bright exception for integrity, though his Life, as I 
 have heard, was otherwise dissolute), and then he falls to and 
 squeezes the Corregidores, in the same manner as Cardinal Riche¬ 
 lieu, that was Lewis Thirteenth’s Minister, was wont to do with the 
 Financiers. “You must treat ’em like Leeches,” said he; “and 
 when they are bloaied with blood, put salt upon them, to make 
 them disgorge.” And I have heard that this rigid System of Prob : 
 ity, and putting salt on the gorged Corregidores, has ofttimes 
 turned out more profitable to the Viceroys than trading on their 
 own account. 
 
 Many of our men falling sick here, and our Ransom being now 
 fully disbursed by the authorities of Guayaquil, we made haste to 
 get away from the place, which was fast becoming pestiferous. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 255 
 
 We set sail with more than fifty men Down with the Distemper 
 (of which they were dying like Sheep with the Rot in the town, 
 and all the Churches turned into Hospitals), but we hoped the Sea 
 Air, for which we longed, would set us all healthy again. So 
 plying to windward, bearing for the Gallipagos Island, and on the 
 21st of May made the most Norrard of that Group. Jan 
 Serouder, a West Frieslander, and very good Sailor, though 
 much given to smoking in his hammock, for which he had many 
 times been Drubbed, died of the Distemper. A great want of 
 Medicines aboard, and the Rum running very low. Sent a Boat 
 ashore to see for Water, Fish, and Turtle, which our men (being 
 now less Dainty by Roughing) had, by this time, condescended to 
 eat. Kept on our course; on the 27th the Easternmost Island bore 
 S.E. by S., distant about four leagues; and nothing more remark¬ 
 able happened till the 6th of June, when we spied a Sail, the 
 “ Hope ” being then about two miles ahead of us; and about seven 
 in the Evening she took her in a very courageous manner. This 
 was a Vessel of about 90 tons, bound from Panama to Guayaquil, 
 called the “ San Tomaso y San Demas ” (for these Spaniards can 
 never have too much of a good thing in the way of Saints), Juan Na¬ 
 varro Navarret y Colza, Commander. About lorty people on board, 
 and eleven Negro Slaves, but little in the way of European goods save 
 some Iron and Cloth. They had a passenger of note on board, one 
 Don Pantaleone and Something as long as my Arm, who was going 
 to be Governor of Baldiyia, and said he had been taken not long 
 since in the North Sea by Jamaica Cruisers. On the 7 th June we 
 made the Island of Gorgona; and, on the 8tli, got to an anchor in 
 30-fathom water. The next day sent out our Pinnace a-cruising 
 and took a prizq called the “ Golden Sun,” belonging to a Creek 
 on the Main—a twopenny-halfpenny little thing, 35 tons; ten Span¬ 
 iards and Indians, and a Negro that was chained down to the deck 
 to amuse the Ship Company with playing on the Guitar (a kind of 
 Lute). However, we found a few ounces of Gold-dust aboard her, 
 worth some sixty pounds sterling. After examining our Prisoners, 
 (who gave us much trouble, for we had no Linguist, and ’twas a 
 Word and a Blow in questioning them: that is, the Blow came 
 from us to get the Word from ’em; but not more than two or three 
 Spaniards were Expended)—after this tedious work was over we 
 held a Committee, and agreed to go to Malaga,* an Island which 
 
 * There is a River in Macedon and a River in Monmouth, and more Malagas 
 than one. 
 
256 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 had a Road, and with our Boats tow up the River in quest of the 
 rich Gold mines of Barbacore, also called by the Spaniards San 
 Juan. But heavy Rains coming on, we were obliged to beat back 
 and come to Gorgona again, building a Tent ashore for our Armor 
 and Sick Men. We spent till the 25th in Careening; on the 28th 
 we got all aboard again, rigged and stowed all ready for sea; the 
 ^ Spaniards who were our Prisoners, and who are very Dilatory 
 Sailors (for they hearken more to their Saints than to the Boat¬ 
 swain’s Pipe), were much amazed at our Dispatch; telling us that 
 they usually took Six Weeks or a Month to Careen one of their 
 King’s Ships at Lima, where they are well provided with all Neces¬ 
 saries, and account that Quick Expedition. We allowed Liberty of 
 Conscience on boaid our floating Commonwealth to our Prisoners; 
 for there being a Priest in each ship, they had the Great Cabin for 
 their Mass, whilst we used the Church-of-England Service over 
 them on the Quarter-deck. So that the Papists here were the Low 
 Churchmen. Shortly after the beginning of July we freed our 
 prisoners at fair Ransom in Gold-dust; but the Village where we 
 landed them was so poor in common Necessaries, that we were 
 obliged to give them some corned beef and biscuit for their sub¬ 
 sistence until they could get up the Country, where there was a 
 Town. Same day a Negro belonging to the “ Delight ” was bit by 
 a small brown speckled Snake, and died in a few hours. 
 
 We had with us, too, a very good prize taken by the “ Hope,” 
 and continued unloading this and transferring the rich contents to 
 our ships, having promised to restore the Hull itself to the Span¬ 
 iards, on her beiift; handsomely Ransomed; and the Don that was to 
 be Governor of Baldivia was appointed Agent for us, and suffered 
 to go freely on his Parole to and fro to arrange Money-matters with 
 the Authorities up the Country. 
 
 Memorandum .—Amongst our Prisoners (taken on board the 
 Panama ship) there was a Gentlewoman and her Family, the Eldest 
 Daughter, a pretty young woman of Eighteen, newly Married, and 
 had her husband with her. We assigned them the Great Cabin on 
 board the Prize, and none were suffered to intrude amongst them; 
 yet the Husband (we were told) showed evident Marks of a Violent 
 Jealousy, which is Ihe Spaniard’s Epidemic Disease. I hope he 
 had not the least Reason for it, seeing that the Prize-master (our 
 Second Lieutenant) was above Fifty years of Age, and of a very 
 Grave Countenance, appearing to be the most secure Guardian to 
 females that had the least Charm, though all our young Men (that 
 were Officers) had hitherto appeared Modest beyond Example among 
 
CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 257 
 
 privateers; yet we thought it improper to expose them to Tempta¬ 
 tion. And I am sure, when the Lieutenant, being superseded for 
 somewhat Scorching of a Negro with a stick of fire for answering 
 him Saucily, and Captain Blokes bade me take temporary com¬ 
 mand of the Prize and Prisoners, that I behaved myself so well as 
 to gain Thanks and Public Acknowledgments for my civility to the 
 Ladies. We had notice that more than one of these Fair Creatures 
 had concealed Treasure about ’em; and so in the most Delicate Man¬ 
 ner we ordeied a Female Negro who spoke English to overhaul ’em 
 privately, and at the same time to tell ’em that it would pain us to 
 the Heart to be obliged to use Stripes or other Unhandsome Means 
 to come to a Discovery. Many Gold Chains, Bracelets, Ouches, 
 and such-like Whim-Whams the Sable Nymph found cunningly 
 stowed away; upon which we gave her half a pint of Wine and a 
 large pot of Sweets, forgiving her at the same time a Whipping at 
 the Capstan which had been promised her for Romping and Gam- 
 mocking among the people in the Forecastle. For I suppose there 
 was. never a modester man than Captain Blokes. 
 
 August 10th. All Money-Matters being arranged, we disposed 
 of our Prisoners. We burned down the Village for some Imperti¬ 
 nence of the Head Man (who was a Half-caste Indian)—but no 
 great harm done, since ’twas mostly Mud and Plantain thatch, and 
 could be built up again in a Week—and got to Windward very 
 slowly, there being a constant current flowing to Leeward to the 
 Bay of Panama. 13th we saw the Island of Gallo; the 18tli we 
 spied a Sail bearing W.N.W. of us, when we all three gave chase, 
 and took her in half an hour. 70 tons. Panama to Lima. Forty 
 people aboard, upon examining whom they could tell us little News 
 from Europe, but said that there came Advices from Portobello in 
 Spain, and by a French ship from France, not long before they 
 came out of Panama; but that all was kept private; only, they 
 heard that his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland was Dead, 
 the which Sad Intelligence we were not willing to Believe, but 
 drank his Health at Night, which we thought could do him no 
 hurt even if he really happened to be Dead. By this time we had 
 gotten another Surgeon out of the “ Delight,” whom we daily ex¬ 
 ercised at his Instruments in the Cockpit, and his Mate at making 
 -of Bandages and spreading of Ointment; and Captain Blokes (who 
 was always giving some fresh proof of Sagacity), just to try ’em, 
 and imitate business for ’em a little, ordered Red Lead, mixed with 
 Water, to be thrown on two of our Fellows, and sent ’em down to 
 
 the Hold, when the Surgeon, thinking they had really b&en wound- 
 9 
 
258 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 ed, went about to Dress them; but the Mistake being discovered, it 
 was a very agreeable Diversion. 
 
 After this we made sail to the Marias Islands (for I feel. I must 
 be brief in this abstract of my Log, and must compress into a few 
 pages Ihe events of many Months), and all November were cruising 
 about Cape St. Lucas in quest of Prizes. Christmas we spent in a 
 very dismal manner; for a Complaint, something akin to Mumps 
 with Scurvy in the gums, and a touch of Lockjaw to boot, broke 
 out among us, and eight men died. Then we engaged and took a 
 very big Spaniard out of Manilla, 250 tons, and a very rich Cargo, 
 mostly in Gold-dust and embroidered Stuffs. January lOtli, 1748-9, 
 at anchor at Port Segura; and here, to our dismal dismay, we 
 heard that Peace had been proclaimed between Spain and England, 
 and that all our Privateering for ttie present was at an end. Then 
 to Acapulco in Mexico, seeing if we could do some honest trading; 
 but at all the Towns along the Coast they looked upon us as little 
 better than Pirates. But we felt a little comforted at the thought 
 that we had already taken some very rich Prizes, and my own part 
 of the Plunder was now over £1500. January 11th, we weighed 
 from Port Segura, and ran toward the Island of Guam. Our 
 Steward missing some pieces of Pork, we immediately searched 
 and found the Thieves. One of them had been guilty before, and 
 forgiven on promise of Amendment; but was punished now, lest 
 Forbearance should encourage the rest to follow this bad practice. 
 Provisions being so short, and our run now so long, might, with¬ 
 out great caution, have brought evil consequences upon us. They 
 (the Thieves) were ordered to. the Main-gear, and every man of the 
 watch to give ’em a blow with the Cat-o’-nine-tails. .On the 14th 
 February, in commemoration of the ancient English customs of 
 choosing Valentines, a list was drawn up of all the Fair Ladies in 
 Bristol in any way related or concerned in our Ships; and all the 
 Officers were sent for to the Cabin, where every one drew, and 
 drank his Valentine’s health in a cup of Punch, and to a happy 
 sight of ’em all. This was done to put ’em in mind of Home. 
 
 From Guam, a very poor place, and the Natives uncommonly 
 nasty, we shaped our course to Ternate; and about the 2d of May 
 saw land, which we took for some of the Islands lying about the 
 N.E. part of Celebes, but were satisfied soon after that we were in 
 the Straits of Guiana. 18th May passed several Islands, and the 
 South point of Gillolo. This was the time of the S.E. Monsoon, 
 which made Weather and Wind very uncertain. May 25th we fell 
 in with a parcel of Islands to the Eastward of Bouton, an island 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 259 
 
 where there is a kind of Indian King, very Savage and Warlike, 
 and with a considerable flotilla of Galleys. We traded with him, 
 and made good profit in the way of Barter; for these Savages will 
 give Gold and Goods for the veriest Trumpery that was ever picked 
 up at a Groat the handful at the hucksters’ stalls in Barbican. 
 From Bouton on the 11th June, having well watered and pro¬ 
 visioned, and taken a Native pilot on board, we sailed for Batavia, 
 and on the 30th cast anchor in the Road there. We waited on his 
 Excellency the Governor-General (for the States of Holland), and 
 begged permission to refit our Ships, which was granted. Many 
 strange Humors now to be seen aboard. Some of the crew hugging 
 each other; others blessing themselves that they were come to such 
 a glorious, place for Punch, where they could have Arrack for 
 Eightpence a Gallon; for now the Labor was wortJi more than the 
 Liquor; whereas, a few weeks since, a Bowl of Punch was worth 
 more to them than half the Voyage. Now we began to Careen, 
 going over to Horn Island, and a Sampan ready to heave down by, 
 and take in our Guns, Carriages, etc. Several of our men fell ill 
 of Fevers, as they said, from drinking the Water of the Island; but 
 as Captain Blokes opined, more from the effects of Arrack Punch 
 at Eightpence a Gallon. All English ships are allowed by the 
 Government here half a leaguer of Arrack a day for ship’s use per 
 man; but boats are not suffered to bring the least thing off shore 
 without being first severely searched. As to the town of Batavia, 
 it lies in a bay full of islands, which so break off the Sea that, 
 though the Road is very large, yet it is safe. The Banks of the 
 Canals through the City are paved with stones as far as the Boom, 
 which is shut up every night at nine o’clock, and guarded by 
 Soldiers. All Ihe Streets are very well built and inhabited; fifteen 
 of ’em have Canals just as in Amsterdam and Rotterdam, and from 
 end to end they reckon fifty-six bridges. The vast number of 
 Cocoa-nut trees in and about the City everywhere afford delightful 
 and profitable Groves. There are Hospitals, Spin-houses, and so 
 forth, as in Holland, where the idle and vicious are set to work, 
 and, when need arises, receive smart Discipline. The Chinese have 
 also a large Sick House, and manage their charity so well that you 
 never see a Chinaman looking despicable in the street. The Dutch 
 Women have greater privileges in India than in Holland, or, in¬ 
 deed, anywhere else; for on slight occasions they are often divorced 
 from their Husbands, and share the Estate betwixt ’em. A Lawyer 
 told me at Batavia he had known, out of fifty-eight causes, all de¬ 
 pending in the Common Council Chamber, fifty-two of them were 
 
260 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Divorces. The Governor’s Palace of Brick, very stately and well 
 laid. He lives in as great splendor as a King; he lias a Train and 
 Guards—viz. a Troop of Horse and a Company of Foot with Hal¬ 
 berds, in liveries of yellow satin adorned with silver laces and 
 fringe—to attend his Coach when he goes abroad. His Lady has 
 also her Guards and Train. The Javanese, or Ancient Natives, are 
 numerous, and said to be barbarous, and proud, of a dark color, 
 with flat faces, thin short Black hair, large eyebrows and cheeks. 
 The Men are strong-limbed, but the Women small. • The Men have 
 many Wives, and are much given to lying and stealing. They are 
 all Pagans, and worship Devils. The Women tawny, sprightly, 
 and Amorous, and very apt to give poison to their Husbands when 
 they can do it cunningly. There are at least 10,000 Chinese, who 
 pay the Dut ch a dollar a month for liberty to wear their Hair, which 
 they are not allowed to do at home since the Tartars conquered 
 ’em. There come hither from China fourteen or sixteen Junks a 
 year, being flat-bottomed vessels. The Merchants come with their 
 goods, and marvelous queer folks they are. I don’t think the 
 whole City is as.large as Bristol; but ’tis much more populous. 
 
 October 12th. We, according to our Owners.’ orders to keep our 
 Ships full-manned, whether the War continued or not—and, oh, 
 how we curse this plaguy Peace!—shipped here seventeen men that 
 were Dutch. Though we looked upon our hardships as being now 
 pretty well over, several ran from us here that had come out of 
 England with us, being straggling, lazy, good-for-nothings, that 
 can’t leave their old Trade of deserting, though now they had a 
 good sum due to each of ’em for Wages. Their shares for Plunder 
 of course were forfeited, and equitably divided among those that 
 stuck by us. From this to the 23d we continued taking in w T ood 
 and w'ater for our Passage to the Cape of Good Hope; and just be¬ 
 fore we sailed held a Council on board the “ Marquis,” by which 
 ’twas agreed, that if any of our Consorts should happen to part 
 company, the one that arrived first was to stay at the Cape twenty 
 days; and then, if they didn’t find the other Ships, to make their 
 utmost dispatch to the island of Helena; and if not there, to pro¬ 
 ceed, according to Owners’ orders, to Great Britain. 
 
 Nothing particular happened till the 27tli of December, when the 
 “ Marquis ” proved very Leaky, and rare work we had at the 
 Pumps, they being most of them choked up from long disuse. 
 December 28tli we came in sight of the Lion’s Head and Rump, 
 being two Hills over the Cape Town. Saluted the Dutch fortress 
 with Nine Guns, and got but Three for thanks; it being surprising 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 261 
 
 what airs these Pipe-smoking, Herring-curing, Cheese-making, 
 Twenty-breeches Gentry give themselves. 29tli, we moored ship, 
 and sent our sick ashore. We stayed here till the end of February, 
 when we Vent into Sardinia Bay to Careen; for a Survey of Carpen¬ 
 ters had reported very badly concerning the Leak. 27tli February we 
 had a good Rummage for Bale Goods to dispose of ashore, having 
 leave of the Governor, and provided a Store-house, where I and the 
 Supercargo of the “ Delight ” took it by turns weekly during the 
 sale of ’em. 28th March came in a Portugee frigate, with news 
 that Five stout French Ships had attempted Rio Janeiro, but were 
 repulsed, and had a great number of men killed, with over 400 
 taken prisoners by the Portuguese. 
 
 April 5 th w r e hoisted a Blue Ensign, loosened our Fore-Topsail, 
 and fired a Gun as a Signal for our Consorts to unmoor, and so fell 
 down to Robin and Penguin Islands. 
 
 Memorandum .—We buried four while at the Cape; eight ran 
 away to be eaten up, as we heartily hoped, by the Hottentots, who 
 have a great gusto for White Man’s Flesh; but reject Negroes as 
 too strong and Aromatic; to say little of the major number of our 
 Ships’ Companies getting Married to Black Wenches. But there’s 
 no Doctors’ Commons at Cape Town; and the best Way of Divorce 
 is by shoving off a boat from Shore, and leaving your Wife behind 
 you. Item. The Dutch generally send a Ship every year to Mada¬ 
 gascar for Slaves to supply their Plantations; for the said beastly 
 Hottentots love their Liberty and Ease so much, that they can not 
 be brought to work, even though they should Starve (which they 
 do pretty well all the year round) for the lack of it. Here, too, w r e 
 spoke with an Englishman and an Irishman, that had been several 
 years with the famous Madagascar Pirates, but were now pardoned, 
 and allowed to settle here. They told us that these Miserable 
 Wretches, who once made such a Noise in the World, dwindled 
 away one by one, most of them very poor and despicable, even to 
 the Natives, among whom they had Married. They added, that, 
 they had no Embarkations, only mere Canoes and Rowboats in 
 Madagascar; so that these Pirates (so long a terrible Bugbear to 
 peaceable Merchantmen) are now become so inconsiderable as to be 
 scarcely worth mentioning; yet I do think that if care be not al¬ 
 ways taken after a Peace to clear all out-of-the-way Islands of these 
 piratical Vermin, and hinder others from joining them, it may 
 prove a Temptation for loose scampish Fellows to resort thither, 
 and make every Creek in the Southern Seas a troublesome nest of 
 Freebooters. 
 
262 
 
 CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 The Cape having been so frequently described, I shall only add 
 that the Character of the Hottentots, at which I have hinted, has 
 been found to be too True, and that they scarce deserve to be reck¬ 
 oned of the Human Kind; they are such a nasty, ill-looking, and 
 worse-smelling people. Their Apparel is the Skins of Beasts; their 
 chief Ornament is to be very Greasy and Black; so that they be¬ 
 smear themselves with an abominable Oil, mixed with Tallow and 
 - Soot; and the Women twist the Entrails of Beasts or Thongs of 
 Hides round their legs, which resemble Rolls of Tobacco. Here’s 
 plenty, however, of all kinds of Flesh and Fowl; there’s nothing 
 wanting at the Cape of Good Hope for a good subsistence; nor is 
 there any place more Commodious for a Retirement to such as 
 would be out of the Noise of the World, than the adjacent country 
 in the possession of the Dutch. 
 
 Nothing of note happened till May 1st, only that sometimes we 
 had Thunder, Lightning, Rain, and Squalls of Wind. On the 7th 
 we made the Island of Ascension, S. Lat. 8*2. On the 14th at noon 
 we found we had just crossed the Equator, being the eighth time 
 we had done so in our course round the World. We had a Dutch 
 Squadron with us, who expected Convoy Rates, and all manner of 
 Civilities from us, though there was now Peace, and we wanted 
 nothing from ’em; but ’tis always the way with this Grasping and 
 Avaricious People. Soon too we observed that the Dutch ships 
 began to scrape and clean their sides, painting and polishing and 
 beeswaxing ’em inside and out, bending new sails, and the very 
 Mariners putting on half a dozen pair of new breeches apiece. This 
 it is their custom to do as they draw near home; so that they look 
 as if newly come out of Holland. 
 
 On the morning of the 15th July we made Fair Island and Foul 
 Island, lying off Shetland; and sighted two or three Fishing Dog¬ 
 gers cruising off the Islands. Having little wind, we lay by, and 
 the Inhabitants came off with what Provisions they had; but they 
 are a very poor people, wild and savage, subsisting chiefly on Fish. 
 When that provision fails, I have heard they live on Sea-weed. 
 
 We being, so to speak, in charge, although unwillingly, of the 
 Dutch Squadron, which had been willy-nilly our Convoy, were 
 compelled to put into a port of Holland instead of into a British one, 
 as we had fondly hoped-. On the 23d July the Dutch Commodore 
 made a signal for seeing Land, and the whole fleet answered him 
 with all their colors. The Pilot-boat coming off, we took two 
 aboard, and about noon parted with some of our Dutch Consorts 
 that were Rotterdam and Middleburg ships. We gave ’em a Huz- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 263 
 
 zah and a half in derision, and our Trumpet and Hautboy were for 
 striking up the Rogue’s March; but this was forbidden by the 
 Sagacious Captain Blokes. Some English ships now hove in sight, 
 and saluted the Dutch Commodore; and afterward we, though with 
 an ill grace, saluted his Worship to welcome in sight of the land, 
 which by right belongs to the Rats (though I have little doubt that 
 for all the Vandykes and Vandams the long-whiskered Gentry will 
 come to their own again som.e of these fine days). As soon as they 
 got over the Bar the Dutchmen fired all their guns for joy at their 
 safe arrival in their own country, which they very affectionately 
 call Fatherland; and, indeed, it was not easy under these circum¬ 
 stances to be angry with the Poor Souls that had been so long at 
 Sea and wandering about Strange Lands. At 8 at night we came 
 to an Anchor in 6-fathom water, about 2 miles off shore. 
 
 On the 24tli, in the morning, the Dutch Flag-ship weighed, in 
 order to go up to the unlivering place. In the Afternoon Captain 
 Blokes sent me ashore, and up to Amsterdam, with a letter for our 
 Owners’ Agents, to ask how we were to act and proceed from 
 hence. Coming back with instructions from the Agent (one Mr. 
 Vandepeereboom, who made me lialf-fuddled with Schiedam drink¬ 
 ing to our prosperous return; but he was a very Civil Gentleman, 
 speaking English to admiration, and had a monstrous pretty House¬ 
 keeper, with eyes as bright as her own Pots and Pans), by Consent 
 of our Council we discharged such men as we had shipped at Batavia 
 and the Cape, and sold the half dozen Negroes we had from time to 
 time picked up for about a Hundred Dollars apiece. But this last 
 had to be managed by private Contract, and somewhat under the 
 Rose; for their High Mightinesses, the States-General, allow no 
 Slaves to be sold openly in Amsterdam. 
 
 On the ICth we went up the Vlieder, which is a better Road than 
 the Texel, and then to Amsterdam again, where Captain Blokes and 
 his chief officers had to make Affidavits before a Notary Public to 
 the truth of an Abstract of our Voyage, the "Which I had drawn up 
 from the Log of the “ Marquis,” to justify our proceedings to our 
 own Government in answer to what the East India Company had 
 to allege against us; they being, as we were informed, resolved to 
 trouble us on pretense that we had Encroached upon their Charter. 
 On the 31st of August comes Mr. Vandepeereboom on board to 
 take Account of what Plate, Gold, and Pearl was in the Ship; and 
 on the 5tli September he took his leave of us. 
 
 But not of me; for as I had been much with him ever since we 
 had lain at Amsterdam, we had become great Chums, and he had 
 
364 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 persuaded me not to return just yet to England, but to remain with 
 him in Holland, and become his partner in Mercantile Adventure, 
 that should not necessitate my going to Sea again. And by this 
 time, to tell truth, I was heartily sick of being Tossed and Tumbled 
 about by the Waves. No man could say that I had not done my 
 Duty during my momentous Voyage round the World. I had 
 worked as hard as any Moose on board the “ Marquis,” doing 
 hand-work and head-work as well. I had been Wounded, had had 
 two Fevers and one bout of Scurvy; but was seldom in such evil 
 case as to shirk either my Duty or my Grog. I prudently redoubted 
 the Chances of returning in haste to mv native Country; for, al¬ 
 though being alone in the world, and the marriage with ^Madame 
 Taffetas not provable in Law, with no other Domestic Troubles to 
 grieve me, I knew from long Experience what Ducks and Drakes 
 Seafaring men do make of their money coming home from a long 
 voyage with their heads empty and their pockets full, and was de¬ 
 termined that what I had painfully gathered from the uttermost 
 Ends of the Earth should not be riotously and unprofitably squan¬ 
 dered in the Taverns of Wapping and Rotherhithe. Mr. Vande- 
 peereboom entering with me into the State of his Affairs, proved as 
 far as Ledger and Cashbook could prove anything, that he was in a 
 most prosperous way of business, in the Dutch East India trade, of 
 which by this time I knew something; so that, although Captain 
 Blokes was loath to part with his old Shipmate and Secretary, he 
 was yet glad to see me better myself. And in truth Mr. Vande- 
 peereboom’s Housekeeper was marvelous pretty. I drew my Pay 
 and Allowances, which amounted to but a small matter; but to my 
 great Joy and Gladness I found that my share of the Plunder from 
 our Prizes and the Ransom of Guayaquil came to Twenty Hundred 
 Pounds. The order for this sum was duly transferred to me, and 
 lodged to my Account in the Bank of Amsterdam, then the most 
 famous Corporation of. Cofferers (since that of Venice began to de¬ 
 cline) in Europe. I bade farewell to Captain Blokes and all my 
 Messmates; left Twenty Pounds to be divided among the Ship’s 
 Company (for which they manned Shrouds and gave me three Huz¬ 
 zas as the Shoreboat put off); and after a last roaring Carouse on 
 board the “Marquis,” gave up for Ever my berth in the gallant 
 Craft in which I had sailed round the World. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 265 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST. 
 
 OF THE SINGULAR MISFORTUNES WHICH BEFELL ME IN HOLLAND. 
 
 ’T was no such very bad Title fora Mercantile Firm, “ Vande- 
 peereboom & Dangerous.” Aha, Rogues! will you call me Pauper, 
 Cardsharper, Led-Captain, Halfpenny Jack, now? Who but I was 
 Mynheer Jan van Dangerous? (I took my Gentility out of my 
 Trunk, as the Spanish Don did his Sword tvhen the Sun shone and 
 there were Pistoles galore, and added the Van as a prefix to which 
 I was entitled by Lineage.) Who but I was a wealthy and pros¬ 
 perous Merchant of Amsterdam, the richest city in Holland? Soon 
 was I well known and Capped to, as one that could order Wine, 
 and pay for it, at the sign of the Amsterdammer Wappen, the great 
 Inn here. 
 
 Although ’tis now nigh thirty years since, I do preserve the pleas¬ 
 antest remembrance of my life in the Low Countries; for, albeit 
 hating the Dutch when I was Poor, I grew to like ’em as a repu¬ 
 table Merchant Adventurer. ’Twas but a small matter prevented 
 me from setting up my Carriage, and was only hindered by the fact 
 that the Police Laws of Amsterdam are very strict against Wheeled 
 Coaches, allowing only a certain and very small number, lest the 
 rumbling of the Wheels should disturb the good thrifty Burghers 
 at their Accounts. For most vehicles they have what they call a 
 Sley, which is the body of a Coach fastened on to a Sledge with 
 ropes, and drawn by one Horse. A Fellow walks by the side on’t, 
 and holds on with one hand to prevent its falling over, while with 
 the other he manages the Reins, A most melancholy Machine this, 
 moving at the rate of about Three miles an hour, and makes you 
 think that you are in a Hospital Conveyance, or else going on a 
 Hurdle to be Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered. 
 
 This Amsterdam is the famous town built upon Wooden Piles, as 
 is also Petersburg, and in some order Venice; and, from its Timber 
 supports, gave rise to the sportive saying of Erasmus when he first 
 came hither, that he had reached a City where the Citizens lived, 
 like Crows, upon the tops of Trees. And again he waggishly com¬ 
 pared Amsterdam to a maimed Soldier, as having Wooden Legs. 
 This Erasmus was, I conjecture, a kind of School-master, and very 
 learned; but conceited, as are most Bookish Persons. 
 
266 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 A Dutchman will save anything; and this rich place has all come 
 out of saving the Mud and starving the Fishes. Here Traffic is 
 wooed as though she were a Woman, and Gold is put to bed with 
 Time, and there is much joy over their Bantling, which is chris. 
 tened Interest. A strange, cleanly, money-grubbing Country of 
 Botanic Gardens and Spitting-pans, universal Industry and Tobacco- 
 pipes, Gingerbread and Sawing-mills, Tulip-roots and the Strong 
 Waters of Schiedam, Cheese, Red Herrings, and the Protestant Re¬ 
 ligion. Peculiar to these People is the functionary called the 
 Aansprecker, a kind of human Bird of Evil Omen, who goes about 
 In a long Black Gown and a monstrous Cocked Hat with a Crape 
 depending from it, to inform the Friends and Acquaintances of Gen¬ 
 teel Persons of any one being Dead. This Aansprecker pays very 
 handsome Compliments to the Departed, at so many Stuyvers the 
 Ounce of Butter; and this saves the Dutch (who are very frugal 
 toward their Dead) from telling Lies upon their Tombstones. When 
 a Man quits, they wind up his Accounts, strike a Balance, and go 
 on to a fresh Folio in the Ledger, without carrying anything for¬ 
 ward. At Marriage-time also, it is the custom among Persons of 
 Figure for the Bride and Bridegroom to send round Bottles of 
 Wine, generally fine Hock, well spiced and sugared, and adorned 
 with all sorts of Ribbons. They have also a singular mode of air¬ 
 ing their Linen and Beds, by means of what they call a Trokenkorb, 
 or Fire-basket, which is of the size and shape of a Magpie’s Cage, 
 and within it is a pan filled with burning Turf, and the Linen is 
 spread over the Wicker-frame; or, to air the Bed, the whole Machine 
 is placed between the Sheets. Nay, there are sundry Dowager 
 Fraus who do warm their Legs with this same Trokenkorb, using it 
 as though it were a Footstool; and considering the quantity of Lin- 
 sey Wolsey they wear, I wonder there are not more Fires. To 
 guard against this last, there are Persons appointed whose office it 
 is to remain all day and all night in the Steeples of the Highest 
 Churches; and as soon as they spy a Flame, they hang out a Flag 
 if it’s Day, or a Lantern if at Night, toward the quarter where the 
 Fire is, blowing a Trumpet lustily meanwhile. 
 
 Eating and Drinking here very good, save the Water, which is so 
 Brackish that it is not drank even 1))' the Common People. There 
 are Water-Merchants constantly occupied in supplying the City 
 with drinkable Water, which they bring in Boats from Utrecht and 
 Germany in large Stone Bottles, that cost you about Eiglitpence 
 apiece English. The Poor, who can not afford it, drink Rain-water, 
 which gives rise to the merry saying, that a Dutchman’s Mouth is 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 267 
 
 forever open, either to swallow down Smoke or to drink up Rain. 
 And indeed they are a wide-gaping Generation. 
 
 Being as yet a Bachelor, I agreed for my Lodging and Victuals 
 with Mr. Vandepeereboom, who had a fair House, very stately, on 
 one of the Canals behind the Heeren Gragt, or Lord’s Street. 
 ’Twould have had quite a princely appearance:, but for a row of 
 Elms in front, which, with their fan, almost concealed the Mansion. 
 The noble look of the House, too, was somewhat spoiled by its be¬ 
 ing next door to a shop where they sold Drugs; which, like all 
 others of this trade in Holland, had for a sign a huge Carved Head, 
 with the mouth wide open, in front of the window; sometimes it 
 rudely resembles a Mercury’s Head, and at other times has a Fool’s 
 Cap upon it. This clumsy sign is called de Gaaper —the Gaper— 
 and I know not the origin of it. Some of the Shop-boards they call 
 Uithang Borden, and have ridiculous Verses written upon them; 
 and ’tis singular to mark how much of the Jackpudding these 
 Dutchmen, who are keener than Jews in their Cash matters, have 
 in them. 
 
 Mr. Vandepeereboom was high in the College of Magistrates, and 
 I was ofttimes privileged to witness with him the administration of 
 Justice and the infliction of its Dread Awards—all here very Decent 
 and Solemn. The Awful Sentence of Death is delivered in a room 
 on the basement-floor of the Stadt House; the entrance through a 
 massy folding-door covered with brass Emblems, such as Jove’s 
 Beams of Lightning, and Flaming Swords; above, between the 
 Rails, are the old and new City Arms; and at the bottom are Death’s 
 Heads and Bones. The^ inside of the Hall, mighty handsome, in 
 while Marble, and proper History pieces of the Judgment of Solo¬ 
 mon, and Zeleucus the Locrian King tearing out one of his Eyes to 
 save one of his Son’s, and Junius Brutus putting his children to 
 Death. On the fore part of the Judgment-seat a fine Marble Statue 
 of Silence, gallantly, but quite falsely, represented by the figure of 
 a Woman on the ground, her finger to her lips, and two Children 
 by her, Weeping over a Death’s Head. When the dire Doom of 
 Death is about to be pronounced, the Criminal is brought into this 
 Hall, guarded; and nothing is omitted in point of solemnity to im¬ 
 press on his mind (poor wretch!) and on those about him the awful 
 consequences of violating the Laws of the Country; which is a 
 much better mode, I think, of striking Terror into’em than the 
 French way, where the Magistrates settle the Sentence among them¬ 
 selves in private, and the Greffier comes all of a sudden into the un¬ 
 happy Person’s Cell to tell him that he is to be presently Executed; 
 
268 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 or even our Old Bailey fasliion (though the Black Cap is frightful), 
 where the Culprit is more or less sent to Hang like a Dog—one 
 down, another come up; and Jack Ketch Drunk all the while with 
 burned Brandy. ’Twas a thorough knowledge of Human Nature, 
 too, that thought of placing this Dutch Hall of Justice on the 
 ground-floor, and its Brazen Door opening into a common Thor¬ 
 oughfare through the Stadt House. I never passed by this door 
 without seeing numbers of the Lower Orders of people gazing wist¬ 
 fully through the Rails upon the Emblematic objects within, ap¬ 
 parently in Melancholy Meditation, and reflecting upon the Igno¬ 
 minious Effects of deviating from the Paths of Yirtue. 
 
 Out of the Burgomaster’s Parlor in the same building is a passage 
 to the Execution Chamber, or Hall of the Last Prayers, where the 
 Condemned take leave of their Priest, and pass through a Window, 
 the lower part of Wood, so that it opens level with the floor of the 
 Scaffold, which is constructed on the outside, opposite the Waag, 
 or Weigh House. 
 
 As associate of one of the Magistrates, I often visited the Dun¬ 
 geons beneath the Stadt House, which are hermetically Sealed unto 
 ail Strangers. As places of Confinement, nothing can be more 
 secure; as places of Punishment, nothing more Horrible. Here, by 
 the faint light of a Rush Candle you gaze only on Emaciated Fig¬ 
 ures, while out of the Dark Shadows issue faint but dismal Groans. 
 Some are here condemned to linger for Life: yet have I known con¬ 
 victed Creatures in this Rat’s hole as merry as French Dancing- 
 Masters, whistling, trolling, and gamboling in the Dark; while in 
 the next cell were a number of Women, who, like the general of 
 their sex when in Durance, did nothing but Yell and tear their 
 Clothes to Pieces. But ’tis true that all confined in these dreadful 
 places had committed crimes of a very malignant nature, and which 
 heartily warranted their being thus cut off from Light and Air, 
 and immured in Regions fit only to be Receptacles for the Dead. 
 Under the Hall of Justice is likewise the Torture Chamber, where 
 Miserable Creatures, at the bidding of their Barbarous Judges, un¬ 
 dergo a variety of Torments; one of which is to fasten the Hands 
 behind the Neck with a cord through pulleys secured to the vaulted 
 Ceiling, so as to be jerked up and down. Weights of Fifty Pounds 
 each are then suspended to the Feet, until anguish overpowers the 
 senses, and a Confession of Guilt is heard to quiver on the lips. 
 Public Punishments are inflicted only Four Times a A ear, when a 
 vast Scaffold is erected in the space between the Stadt House and 
 Waag House, as before mentioned. Those that are only to be 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 200 
 
 Whipped endure that compliment with Merciless Severity, and are 
 not permitted to Retire till those who are to Die have suffered, 
 which is either by Decapitation or by the Rope. And this acts as a 
 Warning as to what will happen to ’em next time. On this occasion 
 the Chief Magistrates attend in their Robes. But though Strict, 
 the}' are mighty Just in administering their Laws, and will not per¬ 
 mit the least deviation or aggravation of the Sentence meted out. I 
 did hear of one jocular Rogue, thal was condemned, for the murder 
 of half a dozen women and children, to have his Head severed from 
 the Trunk at one stroke of the Sword. This Mynheer Merry- 
 Andrew, previous to quitting the Prayer-Chamber, lays a Wager 
 with a Friend that the Executioner should not be able to perform 
 his office according to the exact terms of the Sentence. So, the 
 moment he knelt to receive the Fatal Stroke, he rolled his Head in 
 every direction so violently and rapidly, that the Headsman could 
 not hit him with any chance of severing his Neck at once; and after 
 many fruitless aims, was obliged to renounce the Task. The 
 Officers who were to see the Sentence executed were now in a Great 
 Dilemma. In vain did they try by argument to persuade the Fel¬ 
 low to remain still, and have his Head quietly taken off. At last 
 he was remanded back to Prison, and after an hour’s deliberation 
 the Presiding Magistrate, upon his own Responsibility, ordered the 
 Gallows to be brought out, and the Fellow to be straightway Hanged 
 thereupon; which was done, to the conlentment of the Populace, 
 who were howling with Rage at the fear of being deprived of their 
 Sport. But the straitlaced Dutch Judges and Lawyers all took 
 alarm, and declared that the Fellow had been murdered; and noth¬ 
 ing but the high rank and character of the Magistrate preserved 
 him from grievous consequences. * 
 
 They observe, however, degrees in their Punishments, and are, 
 even in extreme cases, averse from Bloodshed, and willing to try 
 all ways with a criminal before Hanging or Beheading him. Thus 
 have they their famous Rasphuys for the Confinement and Correc¬ 
 tion of those whose Crimes are not capital. Over the Gate are some 
 insignificant painted wooden figures, representing Rogues sawing 
 Log-wood, and Justice holding a Rod over them; and the like of 
 these, with figures of scourging and branding, they stick up in their 
 Public Walks and Gardens, to show what is Done to those who 
 pluck the Flowers or carve Names upon the Trunks of the Trees, 
 and it has a most wholesome effect in frightening Evil-doers. So 
 in the Yard of the Rasphuys is a Whipping-post in Terrorem, with 
 another little figure of Justice flagrant with Execution. Here the 
 
270 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Rogues saw Campeachy-wood, which seems to he most toilsome work; 
 and yet by practice they can saw Two Hundred Pounds’ weight 
 every week with ease, and also make many little Articles in Straw, 
 Wood, Bone, and Copper, to sell to Visitors. They are all clad in 
 White Woolen, which, when they are stained with the Red Saw¬ 
 dust, gives them a Hobgoblin kind of appearance. Here too, in a 
 corner of the Yard, they show the Cell in which if the person who 
 was confined in it did not incessantly Pump out the Water let into 
 it, he must inevitably be Drowned; but this Engine, the Jailers 
 said, had not been used for many Years, and was only kept up as 
 an object of Terror. 
 
 In the east quarter of Amsterdam, Justice is administered in its 
 mildest form; there being the Workhouse close to the Muider 
 Gragt, a place which, I believe, lias not its parallel in the whole 
 World. ’Tis partly Correctional and partly Charitable; and when 
 I saw T it, there were Seven Hundred and Fifty Persons within the 
 Walls, the yearly expense being about One Hundred Thousand 
 Florins. In the rooms belonging to the Governors and Directresses 
 some exquisite Paintings by Van Dyck, Rembrandt, and Jordaens; 
 and, indeed, you can go scarcely anywhere in Holland, from a Pig¬ 
 sty to a Palace, without finding Paintings. Here, in a vast room 
 very cleanly kept, are an immense number of Women occupied in 
 Sewing and Spinning. Among them I saw once a fine hearty-look¬ 
 ing Irishwoman, who had been Confined here two whole Years, for 
 being a little more fond of true Schiedam Gin than her lawful 
 Spouse. In another vast Apartment, secured by many Iron Railings 
 and Grated Windows, are tlie Female Convicts in the highest state 
 of Discipline, and very industriously and silently engaged in mak¬ 
 ing Lace, under the Superintendence of a Governess. From the 
 Walls of the Room are suspended Instruments of Punishment, such 
 as Scourges, Gags, and Manacles, the which are not spared upon 
 the slightest appearance of Insubordination. Then there are Wards 
 for the Men; School-rooms for a vast number of Children; and 
 Dormitories, all in Ihe highest state of Neatness. In another part 
 of the Building, which only the Magistrates are permitted to visit, 
 are usually detained ten or a dozen Young Ladies—some of very 
 high Families—sent here by their Parents or Friends for undutiful 
 Deportment, or some other Domestic Offense. They are compelled 
 to wear a particular Dress as a mark of Degradation; are kept apart; 
 forced to work a certain number of hours a day; and are occasion¬ 
 ally Whipped. Here, too, upon complaints of Extravagance, Tip¬ 
 siness, eto., duly proved, can Husbands send their Wives, to be con- 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 271 
 
 fined and receive the Discipline of the House; and hither, too , can 
 Wives send their Husbands for the same Cause, for Two, Three, and 
 Four Years together, till they show signs of amended Behavior. The 
 Food is abundant and good; but the Work is hard, and the Stripes 
 are many. Might not such a course be tried with advantage in 
 England, to abate and cure the frivolities and extravagances of 
 Fashionable People? 
 
 So then 7 as an Honorable Merchant in a city and country where 
 Commerce is reckoned among the noblest of Pursuits, I might, but 
 for my Perverse Fate, have grown Rich, and taken unto myself a 
 Dutch Wife, and had a Brood of little Broad-beamed Children, that 
 should smoke their Tobacco and quaff their Schiedam, even from 
 their Ciadle upward. Indeed, Madame Vanderkipperhaerin of 
 Gouda (the place where the Cows feed in the Meadows clad in Blue- 
 striped Jackets and Petticoats) was pleased to look upon me with 
 Eyes of Favor, and often said it was a Sin and Shame that such a 
 Proper Man as I (as she was good enough to say) was not Married 
 and Settled. And, indeed, why not? I ofttimes asked myself. I 
 had Florins, Guilders, and Stuyvers in abundance; my Partner was 
 a Magistrate, and well reputed worthy; why should I not give 
 Hostages to Fortune, and have done for good and all with the Life 
 of a Roving Bachelor? By this time (although by no means for¬ 
 getting my own dear native Tongue) 1 spoke French with Ease and 
 Fluency, if not with Grammatical correctness; and had likewise an 
 indifferently copious acquaintance with the Hollands Dialect. 
 Why should not I be a Magistrate, a Burgomaster? Madame Van¬ 
 derkipperhaerin was Rich, and had a beautiful Summer Villa all 
 glistening with Bee’s-waxed Campeachy-wood and Polished Brass 
 on the River Amstel, some three miles from the City. She had a 
 whole Cabinet full of Ostades and Jan Steens in ebony frames, and 
 a Sideboard of Antique Plate that might have made Cranbourn 
 Alley jealous. Why did not I avail myself of the many Propitious 
 Moments that offered, and demand the Hand of that most respect¬ 
 able Dutch Dame? 
 
 The Melancholy Truth is, that she chose to be jealous of Betje, 
 Mr. Vandepeereboom’s comely Housekeeper, upon whom I declare 
 that I had never cast anything but innocently Paternal Glances, and 
 utterly deny that! ever foregathered with that young Frau. She 
 was for moving Mr. Vandepeereboom to have Betje sent to the 
 Workhouse, there to be set to Spinning, and to receive the usual 
 unhandsome Treatment; and when he refused—having, in truth, 
 no fault to find with the Poor Girl—Madame, in a Huff, withdrew 
 
272 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 her Countenance and Favor from me, and, with sundry of her 
 spiteful gossips, revived the old Story of my having several Wives 
 alive in different parts of Europe and the New World. Surely there 
 was never yet a man so exposed to calumny as poor John Dangerous! 
 
 Then, to make matters worse, there came that sad Affair of the 
 Beguine. Flesh and blood! a mortal man (I suppose) is not to be 
 reckoned among the vilest of Humanity because he falls in Love. 
 How could I help Willielmina van Praag being a Beguine? Moreover, 
 a Beguine is not a Nun. The Beguines belong to a modified kind of 
 Monastic Order. They reside in a large House with a wall and 
 ditch around it, and that has a Church and Hospital inside, and is 
 for all the world like a little Town. But the Sisterhood is perfectly 
 secular; they mingle with the inhabitants of the city, quit the Con¬ 
 vent when they choose, and even marry when they are so minded; 
 but they are obliged, so long as they belong to the Order, to attend 
 Prayers a certain number of times a day, and to be within the Con¬ 
 vent-walls at a stated hour every evening. To be admitted to this 
 Order, they must be either unmarried or widows without children; 
 and the only certificate required of them is that of Good Behavior, 
 and that they have a Competence to live upon. You may ask, if 
 this almost entire Liberty be granted them, what there was to hinder 
 Mynheer Jan van Dangerous and the Fair Beguine Wilhemina van 
 Praag from coming together as Man and Wife? Wilhelmina was 
 the comeliest Creature (save one) that I have ever seen; and, but that 
 she was a little Stout, would have passed as the living model for 
 the St. Catherine which Signor Raphael the Painter did so well in 
 Oils. I don’t think I loved her; but she took my Fancy im¬ 
 mensely, and meeting her in the houses of divers Honorable Fami¬ 
 lies in Amsterdam, ’tis not to be concealed that I courted her with 
 much assiduity. This, by some mischief-making Persons, was held 
 to be highly compromising to the Fair Beguine. For all that I had 
 become a Grave Merchant, there was yet somewhat of the Gentle¬ 
 man of the Sword and Adventurer on the High Seas about me; and 
 a great hulking Cousin of the young Frau, that was a Lieutenant 
 in their High Mightinesses Land Forces—the Amphibious Grena¬ 
 diers I call ’em, and more used to Salt-water than Saltpeter—must 
 needs challenge me to the Duello. The laws against private warfare 
 being very strict in Holland, we were obliged to make a journey inh> 
 Austrian Flanders, to Arrange our Difficulty; and, meeting on the' 
 borders of the Duchy of Luxembourg, I— Well, is Jack Danger¬ 
 ous to be blamed for that he was, in the prime of Life, an approved 
 Master of Fence! 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 273 
 
 The Lieutenant being dead of his Wounds (received in perfectly- 
 fair fight), the whole City of Amsterdam must needs cry out that I 
 had murdered the Man; and the Families who had once been eager 
 to receive me turned their backs upon me. Then the Fair Beguine 
 must go into a craze; and, upon my word, when I heard how Mad 
 she was, and how they had been obliged to shut her up in the Hos¬ 
 pital, I could not help thinking of the History of my Grandmother, 
 and did mistrust meeting the young Frau van Praag again (for she 
 was very Sweet, I believe, with the Spark that forced me to fight 
 with him), for fear that she should Pistol me. But she did not; 
 and Recovered, to marry a very Wealthy Shipmaster named 
 Druyckx. 
 
 While this Ugly Business was the talk of all tongues (but Mr. 
 Vandepeereboom clapped me on the Shoulder, and bade me take 
 my Diversion while he minded Business, for that all would Blow 
 Over soon), I took an Excursion (’twas in the third year of my Resi¬ 
 dence here) into North Holland, to visit the famous village of Brock. 
 Here the streets are divided by little Rivulets, for all the world like 
 Liliputian Canals; the Houses and Summer-houses all of Wood, 
 painted Green and White, very handsome, albeit whimsical in their 
 shape, and scrupulously neat. The Inhabitants have a peculiar as¬ 
 sociation among themselves, and scarcely ever admit a Stranger 
 within their Doors. During my stay I only saw the Faces of two 
 of ’em, and then only by a stealthy Peep. They are said to be 
 very rich, and in some of their Kitchens to have Pots and Pans of 
 solid Gold. The Shutters of the Windows always kept closed, and 
 the Householders go to and fro by a Back Door, the Principal 
 Entrance being opened only at Marriages and Deaths. The Street 
 Pavement all set out with Pebbles and Cockleshells, and no Dogs or 
 Cats were seen to trespass upon it; and formerly there was a law to 
 oblige all Passengers to take off their Shoes. Here it was that a 
 Man was once Convened and Reprimanded for Sneezing in the 
 Streets; and latterly, a Parson, I heard, upon being appointed to 
 fill the Church on the Demise of an old Predecessor, gave great 
 offense to his Flock by not taking off his Shoes when he ascended 
 the Pulpit. The Gardens of this Strange Village produce Deer, 
 Dogs, Peacocks, Chairs, and Ladders, all cut out in Box. I never 
 saw such a Museum of vegetable Statuary in my Life before. On 
 the whole, Brock resembles a trim, sprightly Ball-room, all gar¬ 
 nished, lighted up, and the floor well chalked, but not a Soul to 
 Scrape Fiddle or Fool Minuet. Further from here is Saardam, 
 which, at a distance, looks like a City of Windmills. 
 
27 4 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS* 
 
 Item.— I forgot to say, that at Brock they tie up the Cows’ Tails 
 with Blue Ribbons. 
 
 The Houses of Saardam are principally built of 'Wood, and every 
 one has a Fantastic kind of Baby Garden. Here is the Wooden 
 Hut where Peter the Great lived, when he wrought as a Shipwright 
 in the IN avy-yard. It stands in a Garden, and is in Decent Preser¬ 
 vation. The women in North Holland are said to be handsomer 
 than in any other part of the country; but I w r as out of taste with 
 Beauty when I came hither, and could see naught but ugly Faces. 
 
 So, coming back to Amsterdam, I found that Mr. Vandepeere- 
 boom’s Prediction was fulfilled with a Vengeance, and with Com¬ 
 pound Interest. The Business of the Beguine had Blown Over; 
 but another affair had Blown On, and this very speedily‘ended in a 
 Blow Up. I am sorry to say that this Fairspoken and seeming 
 Reputable Mr. Vandepeereboom turned out to be a very Great. 
 Rogue. Our Firm was in the Batavian trade, dealing in fine 
 Spices, Nutmegs, Cloves, Mace, Cinnamon, and so forth; also in 
 Rice, Cotton and Pepper; and especially in the Java Coffee, which 
 is held to be second only to that of Arabia. In this branch of Trade 
 the Dutch have no competition, and they are able to keep the 
 price of their Spices as high as they choose, by ordering what 
 remains unsold at the price they have fixed upon it to be 
 burned. How it came to pass that the Spice Ships consigned to us 
 were all wrecked on the High Seas and never insured; that the 
 Batavian Merchants, to whom we advanced money on their Con¬ 
 signments, all failed dismally; that every Speculation we entered 
 into went against us, and that we always burned our Surplus Goods 
 just as prices were about to rise—I know not; but certain it is, that 
 I had not been three weeks back in Amsterdam before the House 
 of Vandepeereboom Dangerous went Bankrupt. Now ’tis an 
 ugly thing to be Bankrupt, in Holland. The people are so thrifty 
 and persevering, and so jealous of keeping their Engagements, that 
 the very rarity of Insolvency makes it Scandalous. A Trading 
 Debtor being a character very seldom to be met with, he is held in 
 more Odium in Holland than in any other part of Europe.' Yet are 
 their Laws of Arrest milder than with us in England, where for a 
 matter of Forty Shillings an Honest Man becomes the prey of a 
 Catchpole, and for years after he has paid the Debt itself, with 
 exorbitant Costs to some Knavish Limb of the Law, may still con¬ 
 tinue to Rot in Jail for the Keeper’s Fees dr Garnish. Here, if the 
 Debtor be a Citizen or Registered Burgher (as I was), he is not 
 subject to have his Person seized at the suit of his Creditors, until 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 275 
 
 three regular Summonses have been duly served upon him to ap¬ 
 pear in the Court, which Processes are completed in about a month; 
 after which, if he does not obey it, he may be laid hold of, but only 
 when he has quitted his House; for in Holland a Man’s Dwelling 
 is held even more sacred than in England, and no "Writ or Execution 
 whatever is capable of being served upon him so long as he keeps 
 close, or even if he stands on the threshold of his Home. In this 
 Sanctuary he may set at Defiance every Claimant; but if he have 
 the Hardihood to appear Abroad, the Sergeants collar him forth¬ 
 with; but even in this case he goes not to a common Jail or Prison 
 for Felons, but to a House of Restriction, where he is properly en¬ 
 treated, and maintained with Liberal Humanity; the Expense of 
 which, as well as the Proceedings, must be defrayed by the Credit¬ 
 ors. This regards only the private Gentleman Debtor. But woe 
 betide the Fraudulent Trader! The Bankrupt Laws of Holland 
 differ from ours in this respect, that all the Creditors must sign the 
 Debtor’s Certificate, or Agreement of Liberation. If any decline, 
 the Ground of their Refusal is submitted to Arbitrators, who de¬ 
 cide as to the merits of the case; and if the Broken Merchant be 
 found to be a Cheat, no Mercy is shown him. The Raspliuys, the 
 Pillory, nay even the Dungeons beneath the Stadt House, may be 
 his Doom. 
 
 This, Mr. Vandepeereboom (being a born Dutchman) knew very 
 well; and he waited neither for Deliberations as to his Certificate, 
 nor for Arbitrators’award. He e’en showed his Creditors a clean 
 Pair of Heels, and took Shipping for Harwich in England. I believe 
 he afterward prospered exceedingly in London as a Crimp, or Pur¬ 
 veyor of Men for the Sea-Service, and submitted to the East India 
 Company many notable plans for injuring the Commerce of the Hol¬ 
 landers. I have likewise reason to think that he did me a sreat deal 
 of harm amongst my late Owners at Bristol and elsewhere, saying 
 that I had been the Ruin of him with Wasteful Extravagance and 
 Deboslied Ways, and that but for his Intercession I should have 
 been Broken on the Wheel for unhandsome Behavior to the Fair 
 Beguine. Ere he flitted, he left me a Letter, in which he had the 
 impudence to tell me that he had long since drawn out my Account 
 from the Bank^of Amsterdam, thinking himself much better able 
 to take care of the Money than I was. Furthermore he contemptu¬ 
 ously advised me to try some other line than Commerce, for which 
 I was, through my Former Career—or Vagabond Habits, as he had 
 the face to call it—in no wise fitted. Finally, he ironically wished 
 me a Good Deliverance from the hands of the Assessors of the Com- 
 
276 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 mercial Tribunal, and witli a Devilish Sneer recommended his 
 Housekeeper Betje to my care. O Mr. Vandepeereboom, Mr. 
 
 „ Vandepeereboom! if ever we meet again, old as I am, there shall be 
 Weeping in Holland for you—if, indeed, there be anybody left to 
 shed tears for such a Worthless Rascal. 
 
 This most Dishonest Person, however, did me unwittingly a trifle 
 of good, and at all events saved me from Gyves and Stripes. That 
 Passage of his in the Letter about my Funds in the Bank of Am¬ 
 sterdam was my Deliverance. ’Twas widely known that I was but 
 a simple Sea-faring Man, unused to Mercantile Affairs, and that I 
 had really brought with me the considerable sum of Twenty Hun¬ 
 dred Pounds. I was arrested, it is true, and lay for many Months 
 in the House of Restriction; but interest was made for me, and the 
 Creditors of the Broken House agreed to sign a Certificate of Liber¬ 
 ation. I believe that but for that mournful business of the Beguine, 
 and for that confounded Officer that I sworded, some of the 
 Wealthy Merchants would have subscribed to an Association for 
 setting me up again; but that Rencounter was remembered to my 
 hurt, and says Mynheer van Bommel, when he brought me my 
 Certificate, 4 £ Harkye, Friend Englander; you are Free this time. 
 Take my advice, and get you out of Holland as quick as ever you 
 can; for their High Mightinesses, to say nothing of the Worshipful 
 Burgomaster of this City, have a misliking for Men that are too 
 quick with the Sword, and too slow with the Pen; and if you don’t 
 speedily mend your way of Life, and bid farewell to this Country, 
 you will find yourself sawing of Campeacliy-wood at the Rasphuys, 
 with Dirk Juill, the Beadle, standing over you with a Thong.” 
 Upon which I thanked him heartily; and he had the Generosity to 
 lend me Fifty Florins to furnish my present needs. 
 
 I was no longer a Young man. I was now long past my fortieth 
 year, again almost a Pauper, Friendless and Unknown in the World; 
 yet did I feel Undaunted, and confident that Better Days were in 
 store for me. Pouching my Fifty Florins, I first followed the 
 Burgomaster’s advice by getting, out of Holland as quick as ever I 
 could, and betook myself by Treycksliuyt and Stage Wagon to the 
 city of Bruxelles in Brabant. Here I abode for some months in the 
 house of a clean Widow-woman that was a Walloon, who, finding 
 that I was English, and besides a very tolerable French Scholar, 
 procured me several Pupils among the Tradesfolk in the neighbor¬ 
 hood of the Petit Sablon (hard by the Archduchess Governante’s 
 Palace), where I dwelt on a Sixth Floor. By degrees I did so in¬ 
 crease my number of Pupils, that I was able to open a School of 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 277 
 
 some thirty Lads and Lasses. To both indifferently I taught the 
 Languages, with Writing and Accompts; while for the instruc¬ 
 tion of the latter in Needle-work and other Feminine Accomplish¬ 
 ments I engaged my Landlady’s Daughter, a comely Maiden, albeit 
 Red-haired, and very much pitted with the Small-pox. Figure to 
 yourself Captain Jack Dangerous turned Dominie! I am venture¬ 
 some enough to believe that I was a veiy passable Pedagogue; and 
 of this I am certain, that I was entirely beloved by my Scholars. 
 The sufferings I had undergone while a Captive in the hands of that 
 Barbarous Wretch, Gnawbit, had never been effaced from my 
 Memory, and had made me infinitely tender toward little Children. 
 Indeed I could scarcely bear to use the Ferula to them, or nip ’em 
 with a Fescue, much less to untruss and Scourge ’em, as ’ tis the 
 brutal fashion of Pedants to do; nor do I think, though I disobeyed 
 Solomon’s maxim and Spared the Rod, that I did much toward 
 Spoiling any Child that was under my care. I made learning easy 
 and pleasant to my Youngsters, by telling them all sorts of moving 
 and marvelous Stories, drawn from what Books of History I had 
 handy (and these I admit I Colored a little, to suit the Imaginations 
 of the Young), and others concerning my own remarkable Advent¬ 
 ures, in which, however extraordinary they seemed, I always took 
 care to adhere strictly to the Truth, only suppressing that which it 
 was not proper for Youth and Innocence to be made acquainted 
 with. 
 
 But School-keeping is a tiresome trade. One can not be at it day 
 and night, too; and a Man must have some place to Divert himself 
 in, when the toils of the day are over. I found out a Coffee-House 
 in the Rue de Merinos, or Spaan Scheep Straet, as the Flemings call 
 it, in strange likelihood to our tongue, and there, over my Tobacco, 
 made some strange Acquaintance. There was one De Suaso, an 
 Empiric, that had writ against the English College of Physicians, 
 and was like to have made a Fortune by his famous Nostrum for 
 the Gout, the Sudorific Expulsive Mixture, but that Scheme had 
 fallen through, it having been discovered that the Mixture was 
 naught but Quicksilver and Hogslard, which made the Patients 
 perspire indeed, but turned ’em all, to the very Silver in their 
 Pockets, as black as Small-Coal Men. Now he had become a kind 
 of Peddler, selling Handkerchiefs made at Amsterdam, in imitation 
 of those of Naples, with Women’s Gloves, Fans, Essences, and 
 Pomatums—and in fact all the Whim-Whams that are known in 
 the Italian trade as Galanterie lepiu cuYiose di Venezia e di Milano. 
 But his prime trade was in Selling of Snuff, for the choicer sorts of 
 
278 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 which there was at that time a perfect Rage among the Qualily, 
 both of the Continent and of England. This De Suaso used to 
 Laugh, and say that the best venture he had ever made was from a 
 Parcel of Snuff so bad and rotten, that he was about to send it back 
 to the Hamburg Merchant who had sold it him, when one day, 
 plying at the chief Coffee-House, as was his wont, my Lord Haut- 
 goustham, an English Nobleman, desired him to fill his box with 
 the choicest Snuff he had. Thinking my Lord really a Judge, lie- 
 gives him some undeniable Bouquet Daujrfiine; but the Peer would 
 have no*ne of it. Then he tries him with one Mixture after another, 
 but always unsuccessfully; until at last he bethinks him of the 
 Musly Parcel he has at home, and accordingly having fetched some 
 of that, returns to the Coffee-House, and says that he has indeed a 
 Snuff of extraordinary Smell and Taste, but that ’tis extravagantly 
 dear. Lord Hautgoustham tries it, and calls out in an ecstasy that 
 'tis the most beautiful Snuff he ever put to his Nose. He bought 
 a Pound of it, for which De Suaso charged him at the moderate 
 rate of Four Guineas; and. desires to know his Lodging, that he 
 may send his Friends to buy some of this Incomparable Mixture. 
 The Artful Rogue then affects the Coy, says that his Stock of the 
 Snuff is very low, and by degrees raises his price to Eleven Pistoles 
 a Pound, until the English in Brussels have been half-poisoned 
 with his filthy Remnant; when there comes upon the scene a certain 
 Mr. Dubuggin, a rich old English Merchant of the Caraccas, who 
 knew all kinds of Snuff as well as a Yorkshire Tyke knows Horses; 
 and he, telling the Nobleman and his Friends how they have been 
 duped, my Lord Hautgoustham, who was of a hot Temper, makes 
 no more ado, but kicks this unhappy De Suaso half way down the 
 Montagne de la Cour. 
 
 Here, too, I made an Acquaintance who was afterward the means 
 of working me much Mischief. This was one Ferdinando Carolyi, 
 that said he was a Styrian, but spoke most Tongues, and was a 
 thoroughly accomplished Rascal. He had been a painter of 
 Flower-pieces, and from what I could learn had also made the 
 Mill to go in the way of coining False Money; but at the time I 
 knew him was all for the occult Science called the Cabala. He 
 showed me a whole chestful of Writings at his Lodgings—which 
 were very mean—and declared that he had invented a perfect and 
 particular System, which he called the Astronomical Terrestrial 
 Cabala. He had run through the whole Pentateuch, and had re¬ 
 duced to the Signs of the Zodiac the words of such Scripture Verses 
 as answered to the same; one to Aries, the second to Taurus, the 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 279 
 
 third to Gemini, and the like. In short, there appeared a kind of 
 Harmonjr in ’em, particularly when the Terrestrial Cabala (which 
 was of the Dryest) was moistened with a flask or two of* good old 
 Rhenish. The whole of this contrivance was to tend toward the 
 Discovery of the Philosopher’s Stone. He pretended by these 
 Astronomical Figures to have penetrated into the most essential 
 Arcana of Nature, and all the necessary operations for attaining the 
 Elixir Philosphorum, or some such word. But this Carolyi had 
 such a winning way with him, that he would well-nigh have talked 
 a Donkey’s Hind-leg off. He began to tell me about Peter of 
 Lombardy and the great adept Zacharias, and of the blessed Terra 
 Foliata, or Land of Leaves, where Gold is sown to be radically 
 Dissolved in order to its Putrefaction and Regermination in a Fix¬ 
 ation which has Power over its Brethren the Imperfect Metals, and 
 makes them like unto itself; and this process (which I believe to 
 have been only a story about a Cock and a Bull) he called Reincru- 
 dation. In fact my Gentleman almost talked me out of my Senses; 
 and as I thought him a monstrous clever Man, I lent him (although 
 my Purse was as lean as might be) half a score Austrian Ducats, to 
 carry out his experiments in the Universal Menstruum. Alas! I 
 never saw my Ducats nor my Alchemist again. A week after I 
 had lent him the money he fled on a suspicion of Base Coin; and I 
 had hard work to persuade the Officers of Justice that I had not a 
 hand in his Malpractices. As it was, nearly all my Scholars fell 
 away from my school; and the Impudent Flemings sneered at me as 
 Mozzoo Kabala —in their barbarous Lingo—and I was pointed out in 
 the streets as a Wizard, a Fortune-teller, a Cunning Man, and what 
 not. So that I was fain, after about ten years’ sojourn at Bruxel¬ 
 les, to call in my Dues, gather my few Effects together, and bid 
 farewell to Flanders. It was time; for the Priests were up in arms 
 against me as a Heretic Outlaw, dealing in magic. The black Gentry 
 are hereabouts very Bigoted; and although they have no Inquisition, 
 would, I doubt not, have led me a sorry Life, but for my Discretion 
 in timely Flitting. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND. 
 
 OF A STRANGE AND HORRIBLE ADVENTURE I HAD IN PARIS, 
 WHICH WAS NEARLY MY UNDOING. 
 
 The Manner of its Coming About was this. I arrived in Paris 
 very Poor and Miserable, and was for some days (when that which 
 I brought with me was spent, almost destitute of Bread. At last, 
 
280 
 
 CAPTAIK DANGEROUS. 
 
 hearing that some Odd Hands were wanted at the Opera-House to 
 caper about in a new Ballet upon the Story of Orpheus, the Master 
 of the Tavern where I Lodged, who had been a Property-Master at 
 the Theaters, and entertained many of the Playing Gentry, made 
 inlerest for me, as much to keep me from Starving as to put me in 
 the way of earning enough money to pay my Score to him. For I 
 have found that there never was in this world a man so Poor but he 
 could manage to run into Debt. In virtue of his Influence I, who 
 had never so much as stood up in a polite Minuet in my life, and 
 knew no more of Dancing than sufficed to foot it on a Sliuffleboard 
 at a Tavern to the tune of Green Sleeves, was engaged at the wages 
 of one Livre ten. Sols a night to be a Mime in this same Ballet. But 
 ’twas little proficiency in Dancing they wanted from me. One need 
 not have been bound ’prentice to a Hackney Caper Merchant to 
 play one of the Furies that hold back Eurydice, and vomit Flames 
 through a Great Mask. They gave me a monstrous Dress, akin to 
 the San Benitos which are worn by the poor wretches who are 
 burned by the Inquisition; and my flame-burning was done by an 
 Ingenious Mechanical Contrivance, that had a most delectable 
 effect, albeit the Fumes of the Sulphur half choked me. And they 
 did not ask for any Characters for their Furies. I had tumbled and 
 vomited Flames for at least thirty nights, when one evening, stand¬ 
 ing at the Side Scenes waiting for my turn to come on, it chanced 
 that the light gauzy Coats of a pretty little Dancing-girl, that was 
 playing a Dryad in the Wood where Orpheus charms the Beast, 
 caught Fire. I think ’twas the Candle fell out of the Moon-box, 
 and so on to her Drapery; but, at all events, she was Alight, and 
 ran about the Scene, screaming piteously. The poor little cowardly 
 wretches her Companions all ran away in sheer terror; and as for 
 the two Musketeers of the Guard who stood sentry at each side of 
 the Proscenium, one dastard Losel fell on his Marrowbones and 
 began bawling for his Saints, whilst the other, a more active 
 Craven, drops his musket and bayonet with a clang, and clambers 
 into the Orchestra, hitting out right and left among the Fiddlers, 
 and very nearly tumbling into the Big Drum. All this took much 
 less time to pass than I have taken to relate it; but as quick as 
 thought I rushed on to the Stage, seized hold of the little Dancing- 
 girl, tripped her up, and rolled her over and over on the Boards, I 
 encompassing her, till the flames were Extinguished. Luckily 
 there was no Harm done. She was Bruised all over, and one of 
 her pretty little Elbows was scratched: but that was all. One of 
 the Gentlemen of the King’s Chamber came round from his Box; 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 281 
 
 and the Sardinian Embassador sends round at once a Purse of 
 Fifty Pistoles, and an offer for her to become his Madame; “ For I 
 should like one,” his Excellency said, “ that had been half-roasted. 
 All these Frenchwomen look as though they had been boiled.” 
 "When the Little Girl was brought to her Dressing-Room, and had 
 somewhat recovered from her Fright, she began to thank me, her 
 Preserver, as she called me, with great Fervor and Vehemence; yet 
 did I fancy that, although her words were excellent!}" well chosen, 
 she spoke with somewhat of an English xAccent. And indeed she 
 proved to be English. She was the Daugliler of one Mr. Lovell, 
 an English Gentleman of very fair extraction, who had been un¬ 
 fortunately mixed up in the Troubles of the Forty-five; and having 
 been rather a dangerous Plotter, and so excepted from the Act of 
 Oblivion, had been fain to reside in Paris ever since, picking up a 
 Crust as he could by translating, teaching of the Thrombo and 
 Harpsichord, and such-like sorry Shifts. But he was very well con¬ 
 nected, and had powerful friends among the French Quality. He 
 was now a very old man, but of a most Genteel Presence and 
 Majestic Carriage. The Little Girl’s name—she was now about 
 Eighteen years old—was Lilias, and she was the only one. As she 
 had a marvelous turn for Dancing, old Mr. Lovell had (in the 
 stress of his Affairs) allowed her to be hired at the Opera House, 
 where she received no less than a Hundred Ecus a month; but he 
 knew too well what mettle Gentlemen of the King’s Chamber and 
 Musketeers of the Guard were made of; and every night after the 
 Performance he came down to the Theater to fetch her—his Hat 
 fiercely cocked, and his long Sword under his arm. So that none 
 dared follow or molest her. And I question even, if he had heard 
 of the Embassador’s offer, whether the old Gentleman would not 
 have demanded Satisfaction from his Excellency for that slight. 
 
 When I discovered that this dear little Creature, who was as fair 
 as her name and as good as gold, was my Countrywoman, I made 
 bold to tell her that I was English, too; whereupon she Laughed, 
 and jn her sweet manner expressed her wonder that I had come to 
 be playing a Fury at the French Opera House. I chose to keep 
 my Belongings private for the nonce; so the old Gentleman, treat¬ 
 ing me as an honest fellow of Low Degree, presented me with ten 
 Livres, which I accepted, nothing loath, and the Theater People 
 even made a purse for me amounting to Fifty more. So that 1 got 
 as rich as a Jew, and was much in favor with my Landlord. But, 
 better than all, the Little Girl, as I was her Preserver, insisted that 
 *1 should be her Protector, too; and old Mr. Lovell being laid up 
 
282 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 very bad with the rheumatism, I was often privileged to attend 
 her home after the Theater, walking respectfully a couple of paces 
 behind her, and grasping a stout Cudgel. Father and Daughter 
 lived in the Impasse Mauvaise Langue, Rue des Moineaux, behind 
 Saint Roque’s Church; and often when I had got my precious 
 charge home, she would press me to stop to supper, the which I 
 took very humbly at a side-table, and listened to the stories of old 
 Mr. Lovell (who was very garrulous) about the Forty-five. ‘ ‘ Bless 
 his old heart,” thought I; “ I could tell him something about the 
 Forty-five that would astonish him.” 
 
 ’Twas one night after leaving the Impasse Mauvaise Langue that, 
 feeling both cold and dry, I turned • into a Tavern that was open 
 late, for a measure of Hot Spiced Wine as a Night-cap. There was 
 no one there, beyond the People of the House, save a man in a 
 Drugget Coat, a green velveteen Waistcoat, red plush Nethers, and 
 a flapped Hat, all very Worn and Greasy. He was about my own 
 age, and wore his own Hair; but the most remarkable thing about 
 him was his Face. I never saw such a Red Face. ’Twas a hun¬ 
 dred times more fiery than that of Bardolph in the Play. ’Twas 
 more glowing than a Salamander’s; ’twas redder than Sir Robert 
 Walpole’s (the great Whig Minister, who, in my youth, was called 
 by the Commons “Brandy-faced Bob”). This man’s Face was 
 terribly puffed and swollen, and the Veins all injected with purplish 
 Blood. The tips of his Ears were like two pendant Carbuncles. 
 His little bloodshot Eyes seemed starting from their Sockets; while 
 the Cheeks beneath puffed out like Pillows for his Orbits to rest 
 upon. Not less worthy of remark was it that this Red-faced Man’s 
 Lips were of a tawny White. He was forever scrabbling with his 
 hands among his tufted Locks, and pressing them to his Temples, 
 as though his Head pained him—which there was reason to believe 
 it did. 
 
 This strange Person was,' when I entered the Wine-shop, in hot 
 Dispute with the Master about some trifling Liquor Score. He 
 would not Pay, he said; no, not he. He had been basely Robbed 
 and Swindled. He had plenty of Money, but he would not dis¬ 
 burse a Red Liard. He showed, indeed, a Leathern Purse with 
 two or three Gold Pieces in it, and smaller Money; but declared 
 that he would Die sooner than disburse. And as he said this, he 
 drew out of his pocket a long Clasp-Knife, two bladed; and open¬ 
 ing it, brandished it about, and said they had better let him go, or 
 Worse would come of it. 
 
 The Master of the Tavern and his Wife, decent bodies both, were 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 283 
 
 wofully frightened at the behavior of this Desperado; but I was not 
 lo be frightened by such Racketing. I bade him put up his Tooth¬ 
 pick, giving him at the same time a Back-Hander, which drove 
 him into a Corner, where he crouched, snarling like a Wild-beast, 
 but offering to do me no hurt. Then I asked what the To-do was 
 about; and was told that he stood indebted but for Eight Sols, for 
 Half a Lilre of Wine, and that they could not account for his Fury. 
 The man was evidently not in Liquor, which was strange. 
 
 These good people were so flustered at the Man’s uncommon 
 Demeanor, that, seeing I was Strong and Yaliant, they begged me 
 to take him away. This I did, first discharging his Reckoning; 
 for as he had Money about him, I doubted not but that he would 
 recoup me. I got him into the Street (which was close to the 
 Market of the Innocents, and I lived in the Street of the Ancient 
 Comedy, t’other side of the River), and asked him where he was 
 going. 
 
 “ To get a Billet of Confession, ” he made answer. 
 
 “ Stuff and nonsense!” I answered in the French Tongue. 
 
 They sell them not at this Hour of Night. Where do you live?” 
 
 “In the Parvis of Notre Dame, ” says he, staring like a Stuck 
 Pig. “ Oh, Arnault! oh, Jansenius! oh, Monsieur de Paris! all 
 this is your fault!” 
 
 And he lugs out of his Pocket a ragged Sheet of Paper, which he 
 said was the last Mandement or Charge of the Archbishop of Paris, 
 and was for reading it lo me by the Moonlight; but I stopped him 
 short. I had heard in a vague manner that the Public Mind was 
 just then much agitated by some Dispute between the Clergy and 
 the Parliament concerning Billets or Certificates of Confession; but 
 they concerned neither me nor the Opera House. Besides, an Hour 
 after Midnight is not the time for reading Archbishops’ Charges in 
 the Public Streets. 
 
 “ ’Tis my belief, Brother,” I said, as soothingly as I could, “ that 
 you’d better go Home, and tie a Wet Clout round your Head; or, 
 better still, hie to a Chirurgeon and be let Blood. Have you e’er a 
 Home?” 
 
 He began to tell me that his Name was Robert Francois Da¬ 
 miens; that he had come from Picardy; that he had been a Stable¬ 
 man, a Locksmith, a Camp-follower, and a Servant at the College 
 of Louis-le-Grand; that he had a Wife who was a Cook in a Noble 
 Family, and a Daughter who colored Prints for a Seller of En¬ 
 gravings. In short, he told me all save what I desired to know. 
 
284 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEEOUS. 
 
 And in the midst of his rambling recital he stops, and claps his 
 Hand to his forehead again. 
 
 “ What ails you?” I asked. 
 
 “ C’est le Sang, c’est le Sang, qui me monte a la T£te!” cries he. 
 ‘'La Faute est a Monseigneur et a son Mandement. Je perirai; 
 mais les Grands de la Terre periront avec moi.”* 
 
 And with this Bedlamite Speech he broke away from me—for I 
 had kept a slight hold of him—and set off Running as hard as his 
 legs could carry him. 
 
 I concluded that this Red-faced Man must be some Mad Fellow 
 just escaped out of Charenton; and, having other Fish to fry, let 
 him follow his own devices. Whereupon I kindled a Pipe of To¬ 
 bacco, and went home to Bed. 
 
 Two days after this (March, 1757), the whole Troop of the Opera 
 House were commanded to Versailles, there to perform the Ballet 
 of Orpheus before Mesdames the King’s Daughters. I had by this 
 time received slight Promotion, and played the Dog Cerberus—at 
 which my dear little Angel of a Lilias made much mirth. His 
 Majesty was to have waited at Versailles for the playing of the 
 Piece; but after Dinner he changes his mind, and determines on 
 returning to his other Palace of Trianon. 
 
 “ Twas about Five o’clock in the Afternoon, and there was a 
 great Crowd in the Court of Marble to see the Most Christian King 
 take coach for Trianon. The Great Court was full of Gardes 
 Francaises, Musketeers Red and Gray carrying Torches, with 
 Coaches, Led Horses, Prickers, Grooms, Pages, Valets, Waiting 
 Women, and all the Hurly-Burly of a great Court. Some few of 
 the Commonalty also managed to squeeze themselves in—amongst 
 others, your humble Servant, John Dangerous, who was now reck¬ 
 oned no better than a Rascal Buffoon. 
 
 ’Twas bitterly cold and freezing hard, and the Courtiers had 
 their hands squeezed into great fur Muffs. I saw the King come _ 
 down the Marble Staircase; a fair portly Gentleman, with a Great¬ 
 coat, lined with fur, over his ordinary vestments—then a novelty 
 among the French, and called a Redingote, from our English 
 Riding-coat. 
 
 “ Is that the King?” I heard a Voice, which I seemed to remem- 
 
 * “ 'Tis the Blood, the Blood mounting to my Head! ’Tis the Archbishop’s 
 fault, and that of his Charge. I shall perish; but the Mighty Ones of the Earth 
 shall perish with me.” 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 285 
 
 ber, ask behind me, as the Monarch passed between a double line 
 of Spectators to his Coach. 
 
 “ Yes, Dog,” answered he who had been addressed, and who was 
 an Officer in the Gray Musqueteers. “ Pig, why dost thou not take 
 off thy Hat?” 
 
 I was all at once pushed violently on one side. A Man with a 
 Drugget Coat and Flapped Hat, and whom I at once recognized by 
 the light of the glaring torches, as the Red-faced Brawler of the 
 Wine-shop, darted through the line of Guards, an open Knife in 
 his hand, and rushing up to him, stabbed King Lewis the Fifteenth 
 in the side. 
 
 I could hear his Majesty cry out, “ Oh! je suis blesse !'’—“ I am 
 wounded!”—but all the rest was turbulence and confusion: in the 
 midst of which, not caring that the Red-faced Man should claim me 
 as an Acquaintance, I slipped away. I need scarcely say that there 
 was no Ballet at Versailles that night. 
 
 A great deal of Blood came from the King’s Wound: for he was 
 a Plethoric Sovereign, much given to High Living: but he was, on 
 the whole, more Frightened than Hurt. Although when the Assas¬ 
 sin was first laid hold of, His Majesty cried out in an Easy Manner 
 that no Harm was to be done to him, he never afterward troubled 
 his Royal Self in the slightest Manner to put a stop to the Hellish 
 Torments inflicted on a Poor Wretch, who had, at the most, but 
 scratched his Flesh, and for‘whom the most fitting Punishment 
 would have been a Cell in a Mad-house. 
 
 As for this most miserable Red-faced Man, Robert Francois 
 Damiens, this is what was done to him. At first handling, he was 
 very nearly murdered by the Young Gentlemen Officers of the 
 Body Guard, who, having tied him to a Bench, pricked him with 
 their Sword Points, beat him with their Belts, and pummeled him 
 about the Mouth with the Butt-end of Pistols. Then he was had to 
 the Civil Prison; and a certain President, named Maehault, came to 
 interrogate him; who being most zealous to discover whether the 
 Parricide (as he was called) had any Accomplices, heated a Pair of 
 Pincers in the Fire, and when they were red-hot, clawed and 
 dragged away at the Unhappy Man’s Legs, till the whole Dungeon 
 did reek with the horrible Odor of Burned Flesh. Just imagine 
 one of our English Judges of the Land undertaking such a Hang¬ 
 man’s Office! The poor Wretch made no .other complain! than to 
 murmur that the King had directed that he was not to be ill-treated; 
 and when they further questioned him, could only stammer out 
 
286 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 some Incoherent Balderdash about the Archbishop, the Parliament, 
 and the Billets of Confession. 
 
 After many Days he was removed from Versailles to Paris; but 
 his Legs were so bad with the Burning, that they were obliged to 
 carry him away on a Mattress. So to Paris; the Journey taking 
 Six Hours, through his great attendance of Guards and the thick¬ 
 ness of the Crowd. .He was had to the Prison of the Conciergerie, 
 and put into a Circular Dungeon in the Tower called of Mont¬ 
 gomery—the very same one where Ravaillac, that killed Henry the 
 Fourth, had formerly lain. There they put him into a kind of 
 Sack of Shamoy Leather, leaving only his Head free; and he was 
 tied down to his bed—which was a common Hospital Pallet—by an 
 immense number of Leathern Straps, secured by Iron Rings to the 
 Floor of his Dungeon. But what Dr. Gdldsmith, the Poetry-writer, 
 means by “ Damiens’s Bed of Steel,” I’m sure I don’t know. At 
 the head and foot of his Bed an Exempt kept watch Night and 
 Day, and every three quarters of an hour the Guard was relieved; 
 so that the Miserable Creature had little chance* of Sleeping. He 
 would have sunk under all this Cruelty, but that they kept him 
 up with Rich Meats and Generous Wines, which they had all but 
 to force down his Throat. 
 
 But while all this was being done to Damiens, other steps were 
 being taken by Justice, the which narrowly concerned me. As he 
 would denounce no Accomplices real or imaginary, the Police did 
 their best to find out his Confederates for themselves, and by dili¬ 
 gent Inquiry made themselves acquainted with all Damiens’s move¬ 
 ments for days before he committed his Crime. They found out 
 the Wine-shop where he had refused to pay his Reckoning and 
 made a Disturbance; and learning from the people of the House 
 what manner of Man had paid for him and taken him away, they 
 were soon on my track. One night, just before the Ballet began, I 
 was taken by two Exempts; and, in the very play-acting dress as 
 Cerberus that I wore, was forced into a Sedan, and taken, sur¬ 
 rounded by Guards, to the Prison of the Chalelet. I thought of 
 appealing to our Embassador in Paris, and proving that I was a 
 faithful Subject of King George; but, as it happened, I owed my 
 safety to one who disowned that Monarch, and kept all his Allegi¬ 
 ance for King James. For old Mr. Lovell, hearing of my Arrest, 
 and importuned by poor Pretty Miss Lilias, who w'as kind enough 
 to shed many Tears on the occasion, hurried off to his Eminence 
 
 the Cardinal de-, who was all but supreme at Court, and with 
 
 whom he had great Influence. The Cardinal listens to him very 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 287 
 
 graciously, and by and by comes down the President Pasquier to 
 interrogate me; to whom I told a plain Tale, setting forth how I 
 had been unfortunate in Business in Holland and Flanders, and 
 was earning an honest Livelihood by playing a Dog in a Panto¬ 
 mime. The people in the Wine-shop could not but bear me out in 
 stating that I had come across the "Red- faced Man by pure Accident, 
 and was no Friend of his. It was moreover established by the 
 Police, that I had not been seen in Damiens’s company after the 
 Night I first met him, and that I had a legitimate call to be at 
 Versailles on the day of the Assassination; so that, after about a 
 fortnight’s detention, I was set at Liberty, to my own great joy 
 and that of my good and kind Mistress Lilias, who had now repaid 
 ten-thousand-fokl whatever paltry Service I had been fortunate 
 enough to fender her. Nay, this seeming Misadventure was of 
 present service to me; for his Eminence was pleased to say that he 
 should be glad to hear something more concerning me, for that I 
 seemed a Bold Fellow; and at an Interview with him, which lasted 
 more than an Hour, I told him my whole Life and Adventures, 
 which caused him to elevate his Eyebrows not a little. 
 
 “ Cospetto, Signor Dangerous,” says he (for though he spoke 
 French like a Native, he was by Birth an Italian, and sometimes- 
 swore in that Language), ” if all be true that you say—and you do 
 not look like a Man who tells Lies—you have led a strange life. 
 When a Boy, you were nearly Hanged; and now at the mezzo 
 cummin of Life you have been on the point of having your Limbs 
 broken on a St. Andrew’s Cross. However, we must see what we 
 can do for you. Strength, Valor, Experience, and Discretion do 
 not often go together; but I give you credit for possessing a fair 
 show of all Four. I suppose, now, that you are tired of squatting* 
 at the Wicket of the Infernal Regions at the Opera House?” 
 
 I bowed in acknowledgment of his Eminence’s compliments, and 
 said that I should be glad of any Employment. 
 
 “ Well, well,” continued his Eminence, “ we will see. At pres¬ 
 ent, as you say you are a fair Scholar, my Secretary will find you 
 some work in copying Letters. And here, Signor Dangerous, take 
 these ten Louis, and furnish yourself with some more Clerkly Attire 
 than your present trim. It would never do -for a Prince of the 
 Church to have a Flavor of the Opera Side-Scenes about his house.” 
 
 Unless Rumor lied there hung sometimes about his Eminence’s 
 sumptuous hotel a Flavor, not alone of the Opera Side-Scenes, but 
 of the Ballet-Dancers’ Tiring-room. However, let that pass. I 
 took the ten Louis with many Thanks; and six hours afterward 
 
288 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 was strutting about in a suit of Black, full trimmed, with a little 
 short Cloak, for all the world like a Notary s Clerk. 
 
 I had been in the Employ of his Eminence—who showed me 
 daily more and more favor—about a month when all Paris was 
 agog with the News that the Monster Parricide and Hell-Hound (as 
 they called him from the Pulpit), Robert Francois Damiens, was to 
 suffer the last Penalty of his' Crime. I know not what strange 
 horrible fascination I yielded to, but I could not resist the desire to 
 see the End of the Red-faced Man. I went. The Tragedy took 
 place on the Place de Greve; but ere he came on to his last Scene, 
 Damiens had gone through other Woes well-nigh unutterable. I 
 speak not of his performing the amende honorable, bare-footed, in 
 his Shirt, a Halter round his Neck, and a lighted Taper of six 
 pounds’ weight in his Hand, at the Church-door, confessing his 
 Crime, and asking Pardon of God, the King, and all Christian 
 Men. Ah! no; he had suffered more than this. Part of his Sen¬ 
 tence was that, prior to Execution, he was to undergo the Question 
 Ordinary and Extraordinary; and so at the Conciergerie, in the 
 presence of Presidents, Counselors of the Parliament, Great Noble¬ 
 men of the Court, and other Dignitaries, the poor Thing was put 
 into the Brodequins, or Boots, and wedge after wedge driven in 
 between his Legs—already raw and inflamed with the Devilries of 
 the President Machault—and the Iron Incasement. He rent the air 
 with his Screams, until the Surgeons declared that he could hold 
 out no longer. But he confessed nothing; for what had he to con¬ 
 fess? 
 
 Then came the last awful Day, when all this Agony was to end. 
 I saw it all. The Greve was densely packed; and although the space 
 is not a third so large as Tower Hill, there seemed to be Thousands 
 more persons present than at the beheading of my Lord Lovat. A 
 sorrier Sight was it to see the windows of the Hotel de Yille 
 thronged with Great Ladies of the Court, many of them Young 
 and Beautiful, and all bravely Dressed, who laughed and chattered 
 and eat Sweetmeats while the Terrible Show was going on. The 
 Sentence ran, that the Assassin’s Hand, holding the Knife which he 
 had used, should be Burned in a Slow-fire of Sulphur. Then that 
 his Flesh should be torn on the breast, Arms, Stomach, Thighs, 
 and Calves of the Legs with Pincers; and then that into the gaping 
 Wounds there should be poured Melted Lead, Rosin, Pilch, Wax, 
 and Boiling Oil. And finally, that by the Four Extremities he 
 should be attached to Four Horses, and rent Asunder; his Body 
 then to be Burned, and his Ashes scattered to the Winds. There 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 289 
 
 was nothing said about the Lord having mercy upon his Soul; but 
 careful injunction was made that he was to be condemned in the 
 Costs of the Prosecution. 
 
 All this was done, although I sicken to record it, -but in the most 
 Blundering Butcherly manner. The Chief Executioner of the Par¬ 
 liament was Sick, and so the task was deputed to his Nephew, 
 Gabriel Sanson, who being, notwithstanding his Sanguinary Office 
 (which is hereditary), a Humane kind of Young Man, was all in a 
 Shiver at what he had to perform, and quite lost his Head. Both 
 his Yalets, or Under-Hangmen, were Drunk. They had forgotten 
 the Pitch, Oil, Rosin, and other things; and at the last moment they 
 had to be sent for to the neighboring Grocers’. But these Shop¬ 
 keepers declared, out of humanity, that they had them not; where¬ 
 upon Guards and Exempts were sent, who searched their Stores, 
 and seized what was wanted in the King’s Name. Then the Fiend 
 ish Show began. I can hear the miserable man’s Shrieks as I sit 
 writing this now. But no more. 
 
 So strong is our Human Frame, that the great string Brewer’s 
 Horses, although Dragged and Whipped this way and t’other, could 
 not pull his limbs Asunder. So the Surgeons were obliged to sever 
 the great Sinews with Knives, and then the Horses managed it some¬ 
 how. 
 
 Note .—When the Horses were Lashed, to make ’em pull Lustily, 
 the Fine Ladies at the windows fluttered their Fans, and, in their 
 sweet little Court Lingo, cried out compassionately, “ Oh, lespauv' 
 Zemux!" —“Oh, the poor Dobbins!” They didn’t say anything 
 about a poor Damiens. 
 
 Note also, that when they took his Head, to cram it into the 
 Brazier, and burn it with the rest of his Members, they found that 
 his Hair, which when he was arrested was of a Dark Brown, had 
 turned quite White. 
 
 This Story is Naked Truth, and it was done in the Christian 
 country of France, and in the Year of our Lord Seventeen Hundred 
 and Fifty Seven. It all fell out because a poor, ignorant, half-crazy 
 Serving-Man chose to muddle his Head about the Archbishop of 
 Paris and his Billets of Confession, and because he would not go to 
 a Chirurgeon and be let Blood when Jack Dangerous bade him. 
 
 A week after this his Eminence "was pleased to send for me into 
 
 his Cabinet, and told me that he had heard great Accounts from 
 
 his Secretary of my Parts, Application, and Capacity, and that he 
 
 designed to restore me to the position of a Gentleman. He asked 
 
 me if I had a mind for a particular Employment and a Secret Mis- 
 10 
 
290 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 sion; and on my signifying my willingness to embark in such an 
 Undertaking, bade me hold myself in readiness to travel forthwith 
 into Italy. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD. 
 
 OF MY SECRET EMPLOYMENT IN THE SERVICE OF THE CARDINAL, 
 
 DE-. 
 
 Paris was now clearly no place for me; so bidding adieu to my 
 kind Protectress, I made what haste I could to quit the city where 
 I had witnessed, and in some sense been implicated in, so Frightful 
 a Tragedy. There had always been mingled with my Adventurous 
 Temperament a turn for sober Reflection; and I did not fail to Re¬ 
 flect with much seriousness upon the appalling perils from which I 
 had just, by the Mercy of Providence, escaped. Setting altogether 
 on one side the Pretty Sight I should have presented had I been 
 subject to the Hellish Tortures which this poor crazy Wretch 
 Damiens underwent, I just conceived an extreme Horror for this 
 fiendish yet frivolous People, who could mingle the twirling of 
 Fans and the sucking of Sugar-plums with the most excruciating 
 Torments ever inflicted upon a Human Being. At least, so I rea¬ 
 soned to myself, if we English hang and disembowel a Traitor, at 
 least we strangle him first; and though the sentence is Bloodthirsty, 
 the mob would rend Squire Ketch in pieces were it known that a 
 Spark of Life remained in the Body of the Patient when the Hang¬ 
 man’s Knife touched his Breast; but these Frenchmen have neither 
 Humanity nor Decency, and positively pet and pamper up their 
 Victim in order that he may be the better able to endure the full 
 effects of their infernal Spite. 
 
 Not without considerable Misgivings did I undertake my new 
 Employment, the more so as I was both forbidden and ashamed to 
 impart any inkling of its nature to my dear Mistresss. Say what 
 you will, no man that lias a spark of Honesty remaining in him can 
 have much relish for the calling of a spy. I tried hard to persuade 
 myself that this was a kind of Diplomatic Employment; that I was 
 intrusted with secrets cf state; and that by faithfully carrying out 
 my Instructions, I was serving the cause of Civilization, and in my 
 humble way helping to maintain the Peace of Europe. For in all 
 ages there have been, and in all to come there must be, sober and 
 discreet Persons to act as Emissaries, to inquire into the conditions 
 of the People, and bring back Tidings of the Nakedness or Fertility 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 2 91 
 
 of the land. It would never have been known that there was Corn 
 in Egypt, but for the sagacious Investigations of Messengers sent to 
 quest about in the interest of a Famished Community. Neverthe¬ 
 less I admit that, although I spread much such Balsam upon my 
 galled and chafed Conscience, I could not avoid a dismal Distrust 
 that all these Arguments were vain and sophistical. The words, 
 “ Spy, Spy, Spy,” haunted me both by day and by night. I saw, 
 in imagination, the Finger of Derision pointed at me, and heard, in 
 spirit, the wagging of the Tongues of Evil-minded Men. The worst 
 of it was, that the occult nature of my Mission prevented me from 
 loudly proclaiming my Honesty in order to vindicate it against all 
 comers, and glued my Sword to its Scabbard, whence it would 
 otherwise furiously have leaped to avenge the merest Slight put 
 upon me. 
 
 His Eminence the Cardinal de-was pleased to equip me for 
 
 my Journey in the most munificent Manner. First he directed me 
 to procure a plentiful stock of Clothes both for traveling and for 
 gala Occasions, not forgetting a couple of good serviceable Rapiers, 
 as well as a Walking-sword, a Dress-foil, and a Hanger, with a 
 pair of Holster Pistols, and two smaller ones of Steel in case of 
 Emergencies. Also, by his advice, within the lining of my Coat, 
 by the nape of my Neck, just where the bag of my Wig hung, I 
 secreted a neat little Poniard or Dagger. In a small Emerald Ring, 
 of which he made me a Present, was compactly stowed a quantity 
 of very subtle and potent Poison, sufficient to kill Two Men. “ One 
 never knows what may happen, dear Captain,” says his Eminence 
 to me, with his unctuous Smile. “ Your Profession is One of sud¬ 
 den Risks, leading sometimes to prospects of painful Inconvenience. 
 If you are brought to such a pass that all your Ingenuity will not 
 enable you to extricate yourself from it, and if you have any ra¬ 
 tional Objection, say, to being Burned Alive, or Broken on the 
 Wheel, ’tis always as well to have the means at hand of executing 
 one’s self with genteel Tranquillity. Such means you will always 
 carry with you on your Little Finger; and I can see, by the circum¬ 
 ference of the Ring, that ’tis only by Sawing off that it can be got 
 from off your Digit. Poison yourself, then, mio caro, if you see 
 no other way of getting out of the Scrape; but pray remember this! 
 That he who has poison about him, and only enough for one, is an 
 Ass. Always carry enough for Two. The immersion of that little 
 finger in a Glass of Wine, and the pressure of a little Spring, would 
 make Hercules so much cold chicken in a Moment. There are 
 times, dear Captain, when you may have to save Half 3^our Potion 
 
292 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 to kill yourself, but when you may safely lay out the other Half 
 with the view of killing somebody else.” A mighty pleasant Way 
 had his Eminence with him; and his conversation was a kind of 
 Borgia Brocade shot with Macliiavelism. 
 
 My Dispatches and other Secret Documents I was to carry neatly 
 folded and molded within a Ball of Wax not much larger than a 
 Pill. This again was put into a Comfit-box of Gold, and suspended 
 by a minute but strong Chain of Steel round my Neck. 
 
 ,f In difficult Circumstances,” says his Eminence, “ you will open 
 that Comfit-box and swallow that little Ball of Wax. I have often 
 thought,” he pursued, “ that Spies, to be perfect in their Vocation, 
 should first of all be apprenticed to Mountebanks. At the Fair of 
 St. Germain, I have gazed with admiration on the grotesquely 
 bedizened fellows who swallow Swords, Red-hot Pokers, and Yards 
 of Ribbon without number, and thought of what invaluable service 
 their Powers of Gullet would be in the rapid and effectual conceal¬ 
 ment of Documents the which it is expedient to conceal from the 
 eyes of the Vulgar.” 
 
 Again, in the folds of a silken belt, in the which I was to keep 
 my Letters of Credit and a large unset Diamond, in case I should 
 be pressed for Money in places where there were no Bankers—for 
 Diamonds are convertible into Cash from one end of the World 10 
 the other, except among the Cannibals—in this Belt was a little 
 Scrap of Parchment secured between two squares of Glass, and 
 bearing an Inscription in minute characters, wiiich I was unable to 
 decipher. I have the Scrap of Parchment by me yet, and have 
 shown it to Dr. Dubiety, w T ho is a very learned man; but even he 
 is puzzled with it; and beyond opining that the characters are either 
 Arabic or Sanscrit, can not give me any information regarding 
 their Purport. 
 
 “ This Parchment,” observed the Cardinal, when he delivered it 
 to me, “ will be of no serice to you with Civil or Military Govern¬ 
 ors, and it will be wise for you not to show it to carnal-minded Men; 
 but if ever you get into difficulties with Holy Mother Church—I 
 speak not of Heretic Communions—you may produce it at once, 
 and it will be sure to deliver you from those Fiery Furnaces and 
 the Jaws of those Devouring Dragons of whom the said Holy 
 Mother Church is sometimes forced (through the perversity of 
 Mankind) to make use. ’ ’ 
 
 Finally, this same Belt contained a curious Contrivance, by means 
 of a piece of Vellum perforated in divers places, for deciphering the 
 Letters I might receive from his Eminence or his agents. On plac- 
 
. CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 293 
 
 ing* the Vellum over the Letter sent, the words intended to meet the 
 eyes of the recipient, and none other, would appear through Ihe in¬ 
 cisions made; while, the Vellum removed, the body of the Epistle 
 would read like Ihe veriest Balderdash. This the French call a 
 chi fire a grille, and ’tis much used in their secret Diplomatic Affairs. 
 The best of it is, that when the two Parties who wish to correspond 
 have once settled where the incisions are to be, and have each gotten 
 their grille, or Peephole Vellum, no human being can, under ten 
 thousand combinations of letters, and years of toilsome labor, de¬ 
 cipher what is meant to be expressed, or weed out the few Words 
 of Meaning from the mass of surrounding Rubbish. 
 
 I bad his Eminence farewell, having the honor to be admitted to 
 his petit lever, the felicity to kiss his hand and receive his Benedic¬ 
 tion, and the distinction of being conducted down the Back Stairs 
 by his Maitre d’Hotel, and let out by a Side Door in the Garden 
 wall of his Mansion. A close Chariot took me one morning in the 
 Spring of ’58 to the Barriere de Lyon, and there I found a Chaise 
 and Post-horses, and was soon on my road I o the South, with three 
 hundred Louis in Gold in my Valise, and a Letter of Credit for any 
 sum under five hundred, at a time I liked to draw, in my Waist- 
 belt. I was Richer in Purse and more bravely Dressed than ever I 
 had been in my life, and traveled under the name of the Chevalier 
 Escarbotin; but I was a Spy, and, in mine own eyes I was the 
 Meanest of the Mean. 
 
 A happy Mercurial Temper and cheerful Flow of Spirits soon, 
 however, revived within me; and, ere Ten Leagues of my Journey 
 were over, the Chevalier Escarbotin became once more to himself 
 Jack Dangerous. “ I will work the Mine of my Manhood.” I cried 
 out in the Chaise, “ to the last Vein of the Ore.” Vice la Joie ! 
 Yet in my innermost heart did I wish myself once more with Cap¬ 
 tain Blokes as the daring Supercargo of the dear old “ Marquis,” or 
 else a Peaceful Merchant at Amsterdam, giving good advice to the 
 Rogues and Sluts in the Rasphuys. Oh, Mr. Vandepeereboom, Mr. 
 V andepeereboom! 
 
 Six days after my departure from Paris, 1 embarked from Mar¬ 
 seilles on board a Tartane bound for Genoa. We had fine sailing 
 for about three days, till by contrary winds we were driven into 
 San Remo, a pretty Seaport belonging to the Genoese. This abounds 
 so much with Oranges, Lemons, and other Delicious Fruit, that it 
 is called the Paradise of Italy. So on to Genoa, where the Beggars 
 live in Palaces cheek by jowl with the Nobles, who are well-nigh 
 as beggarly as they; and the Houses are as lofty as any in Europe, 
 
294 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS.. 
 
 and the Streets between them as dark and narrow as Adam and Eve 
 Court in the Strand. The Suburb called San Pietro d’Arena is very 
 pretty and full of commodious Villas. There are thirty Parish 
 Churches, and at San Lorenzo they show a large Dish made out of 
 One Emerald, which they say was given to King Solomon by the 
 Queen of Sheba. The Genoese are a cunning and industrious Peo¬ 
 ple, with a great .gusto for the Arts, but terrible Thieves. The 
 Government a Republic, lieadeil by a Doge, that is chosen every 
 two years from among the Nobility, and must be a Genoese, at least 
 Fifty years of age, and no Byblow. He can not so much as lie 
 One Night out of the City, without leave had from the Senate. 
 When he is elected, they place a Crown of Gold on his Head, and a 
 Scepter in his Hand. His Robes are of Crimson Velvet, and he has 
 the title of Serenity. 
 
 Here I did business with several Persons of Consideration; the 
 
 Senators B—c—i and Della G-, the rich Banker L-, and 
 
 Monsignore the Archprelate X-. So by Cortona, where there is 
 
 a strong Castle on a Hill, to Pavia, an old decaying City on the River 
 Tessin, which is so rapid that Bishop Burnet says he ran down the 
 Stream thirty miles in three hours by the help of one Rower only. 
 This may be, or t’other way; but I own to placing little faith in the 
 veracity of these Cat-in-Pan Revolution Bishops. Here (at Pavia) 
 is a Brass Statue of Marcus Antoninus on Horseback; though the 
 Pavians will have it to be Charles the Fifth, and others declare it 
 to be Constantine the Great. 
 
 After two days here, waiting for Dispatches from his Eminence, 
 which came at last in the False Bottom of a Jar of Narbonne 
 Honey, and I answering by a Billet discreetly buried in the recesses 
 of a large Bologna Sausage, I posted to Milan, through a fertile and 
 delicious country, which some call the Garden of Italy. A broad, 
 clean place, with spacious Streets; but the Wine and Macaroni not 
 half so good as at Genoa. The Cathedral full of Relics, some of 
 which run up as high as Abraham. In the Ambrosian Library are 
 a power of Books, and, what is more curious, the Dried Heads of 
 several Learned Men—amongst others, that of our Bishop Fisher, 
 whom King Harry the Eighth put to Death for not acknowledging 
 his Supremacy. About two miles from hence is a Curiosity, ip the 
 shape of a Building, where, if you fire off a Pistol, the Sound re¬ 
 turns about Fifty times. ’Tis done, they told me by two Parallel 
 Walls of a considerable length, which reverberate the Sound to each 
 other till the undulation is quite spent. The which, being so in¬ 
 formed, I was as wise concerning the Echo as I had been before. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 295 
 
 It was my Design to have proceeded from Milan either to Venice 
 or . to the famous Capital City of Rome; but Instructions from his 
 Eminence forced me to retrace my steps, and at Genoa I embarked 
 for Naples. This is a very handsome place, but villainously Dirty, 
 and governed in a most Despotic Manner. Nearly all the Corn 
 Country round about belongs to the Jesuits, who make a pretty 
 Penny by it. The Taxes very high, and laid on Wine, Meat, Oil, 
 and other Necessaries of Life; indeed on everything eatable except 
 Fruit and Fowls, which you may buy for a Song. All Foreigners 
 who have here purchased Estates are loaded with Extraordinary 
 Taxes and Impositions. The City is remarkable for its Silk Stock¬ 
 ings, Waistcoats, Breeches, and Caps; Soap, Perfume, and Snuff¬ 
 boxes. They cool their Wine with Snow, which they get out of 
 pits dug in- the Mountain-sides. Near here, too, is a Burning 
 Mountain they call Vesuvio. It may be mighty curious, bul ’tis as 
 great a Nuisance and Perpetual Alarm to the peaceable Inhabitants 
 of Naples as a Powder Magazine. Very often this Vesuvio gives 
 itself up to hideous Bellowing, causing the Windows, nay the very 
 Houses, in Naples to Shake, and then it vomits forth vast Quantities 
 of melted Stuff,, which streams down the Mountain-sides like a pot 
 boiling over. Sometimes it darkens the Sun with Smoke, causing 
 a kind of Eclipse; then a Pillar of Black Smoke will start up to a 
 prodigious Height in the air, and the next morning you will find the 
 Court and Terrace of your House, be it ten miles away, all strewn 
 with Fine Ashes from Vesuvio. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH. 
 
 I FALL INTO THE HANDS OF RECREANT PAYNIMS, AND AM RE¬ 
 DUCED TO A STATE OF MISERABLE SLAVERY. 
 
 I think I should have been much better off, if, stopping at 
 Naples, 1 had fallen into the blazing Crater at Vesuvio, and have 
 cast up again into the air in the shape of Red-hot Ashes. I think 
 it would have been better for me to be Bitten by the Tarantula 
 Spider (which is about the size of a small Nutmeg, and when it bites 
 a person throws him into all kinds of Tumblings, Anger, Fear, 
 Weeping, Crazy Talk, and Wild Actions, accompanied by a kind of 
 Bedlam Gambado), than to have gone upon the pretty Dance I was 
 destined to Lead. However, there was no discbeying the commands 
 of his Eminence, who, in his Smooth Italian way, told me at Paris 
 
296 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 that those of his Servants who did not attend to his Behests, were 
 much subject to dying Suddenly after Supper; and so, Willy-nilly, 
 I sped upon my Dark Errand. 
 
 Business now took me to Venice. This is a very grand City, 
 both for the Magnificence of its Nobles and the Extent of its Com¬ 
 merce. The Doge is only a Sumptuous kind of Puppet, the Real 
 Government being invested in the Seignory, or Council of Ten, that 
 carry matters with a very High Hand, but, on the whole, give Sat¬ 
 isfaction both to the Quality and the Common. Here are numbers 
 of Priests of a very Free Life and Conversation, and swarms of 
 Monks that are notorious Evil-doers; for during the Carnival (a very 
 famous one here) they wear Masks, sing upon Stages, and fall into 
 many other Practices unbecoming their Profession. The Venetian 
 Nuns are the merriest in all Europe, and have a not much better 
 Repute than the Monks, many of them being the Daughters of the 
 Nobility, who dispose of ’em in this manner to save the Charges of 
 keeping ’em at home. They wear no Veils; have their Necks un¬ 
 covered; and receive the Addresses of -Suitors at the Grates of their 
 Parlors. The Patriarch did indeed at one time essay to Reform the 
 abuses that had crept into the Nunneries; but the Ladies of San 
 Giacomo, with whom he began, told him plainly that they were 
 Noble Venetians, and scorned his Regulations. Thereupon he at¬ 
 tempted to shut up their House, which so provoked ’em that they 
 were going to set Fire to it; but the Senate interposing, commanded 
 the Patriarch to desist, and these Merry Maidens had full liberty 
 to resume their Madcap Pranks. ^ 
 
 Here they make excellent fine Drinking-glasses and Mirrors; like¬ 
 wise Gold and Silver Stuffs, Turpentine, Cream of Tartar, and 
 other articles. The Streets mostly with Water running through ’em, 
 like unto Rotterdam, all going to and fro done in Boats called 
 Gondolas—a dismal, Hearse-looking kind of Wherry, with a prow 
 like the head of a Bass-Viol, and rowed, or rather shoved along with 
 a Pole by a Mad, Ragged Fellow, that bawls out verses from Tasso, 
 one of their Poets, as he plies his Oar. The great Sight at Venice, 
 after the Grand Canal and St. Mark’s Place, is the Carnival, which 
 begins on the Twelfth Day, and holds all Lent. The Diversion of 
 the Venetians is now all for Masquerading. Under a Disguise, they 
 break through their Natural Gravity, and fall heartily into all the 
 Follies and Extravagances of these occasions. With Operas, Plays, 
 and Gaming-Houses, they seem to forget all Habits, Customs, and 
 Laws; lay aside all cares of Business, and Swamp all Distinctions 
 of Rank. This practice of Masking gives rise to a variety of Love 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 297 
 
 Adventures, of which the less said the better; for the Venetian Bona 
 Robas, or Corteggiane, as they call ’em now, are a most Artful 
 Generation. The pursuit of Amours is often accompanied by 
 Broils and Bloodshed; and Fiery Temper is not confined to the 
 Men, but often breaks out in the Weaker Sex; an instance of which 
 I saw one day in St. Mark’s Place, where two Fine Women, Masked, 
 that were • Rivals for the favor of the same Gallant, happening to 
 meet, and by some means knowing one another, they fell out, went 
 to Cuffs, tore off each other’s Mask, and at last drew Knives out of 
 their pockets, with which they Fought so seriously, that one of 
 them was left for Dead upon the Spot. 
 
 Another Frolic of the Carnival is Gaming, which is commonly in 
 Noblemen’s Houses, where there are Tables for that purpose in ten 
 or twelve Rooms on a floor, and seldom without abundance of Com' 
 pany, who are all Masked, and observe a profound Silence. Here 
 one meets Ladies of Pleasure cheek by jowl with Ladies of Quality, 
 who, under the protection of a convenient piece of Black Satin or 
 Velvet, are allowed to enjoy the entertainments of the Season; but 
 are generally attended either by the Husband or his Spies, who keep 
 a watchful eye on their Behavior. Besides these Gaming-Rooms, 
 there are others, where Sweetmeats, Wine, Lemonade, and other 
 Refreshments may be purchased, the Haughty Nobility of Venice 
 not disdaining to turn Tavern-keepers at this season of the year. 
 Here it is usual for Gentlemen to address the Ladies and employ 
 their wit and raillery; but they must take care to keep within the 
 bounds of Politeness, or they may draw upon themselves the Resent¬ 
 ment of the Husbands, who seldom put up with an Affront of this 
 kind, though perhaps only imaginary, without exacting a severe 
 Satisfaction. For the Common People there are Jugglers, Rope- 
 dancers, Fortune-tellers, and other Buffoons, who have stages in 
 the Square of St. Mark, where, at all times during the Carnival, ’ tis 
 almost impossible to pass along, owing to the Crowd of Masquerad¬ 
 ers. Bull Baitings, Races of Gondolas, and other Amusements, 
 too tedious to enumerate, also take place. But among the several 
 Shows which attract the eyes of the Populace, I can not forbear de¬ 
 scribing one which is remarkable for its oddity, and perhaps pecul¬ 
 iar to the Venetians. A number of Men, by the help of Poles laid 
 across each- other’s Shoulders, build themselves up almost as chil¬ 
 dren do Cards—four or five Rows of ’em standing one above the 
 other, and lessening as they advance in height, till at last a little Boy 
 forms the Top, or Point, of the Structure. After they have stood 
 in this manner, to be gazed at, some time, the Boy leaps down into 
 
298 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 the arms of people appointed to catch him at the Bottom; the rest 
 follow his example, and so the whole Pile falls to Pieces. 
 
 The Nobility of Venice are remarkable for their Persons as well 
 as for their Polite Behavior, and have a great deal of Gravity and 
 Wisdom in their Countenances. They wear a light Cap with a kind 
 of black Fringe, and a long black Gown of Paduan Cloth, as their 
 Laws require; though the English have found means to introduce 
 their Manufactures among ’em. Underneath these Gowns they 
 have suits of Silk; and are extremely neat as to their Shoes and 
 Stockings. Their Perukes are long, full-bottomed, and very well 
 Powdered; and they usually carry their Caps in their Hands. The 
 Women very well shaped, though they endeavor to improve their 
 Complexions with Washes and Paint. Those of Quality wear such 
 High-heeled Shoes, that they can scarce walk without having two 
 people to support them. In matters of Religion (though their wor¬ 
 ship is as pompous as Gold aud Jewels can make it) the Venetians 
 are very Easy and Unconcerned; and neither Pope nor Inquisition 
 is thought much of in the Dominions of the Seignory. For Music 
 in their Churches they have a perfect Passion. The City is well 
 furnished with Necessaries; but the want of Cellarage makes all 
 the Wine sour. The Inhabitants are of a Fresh Complexion, and 
 not much troubled with Coughs; which is strange, they having so 
 much Water about ’em. They begin their day at Sunset, and count 
 one o'clock an hour after, and so on to twenty-four; which is like¬ 
 wise a Custom, I believe, among the Chinese. 
 
 They bury their Dead within the Four-and-Twenty Hours, and 
 sometimes sooner. The Funerals of Persons of Quality are per¬ 
 formed with great Pomp and Solemnity; and the deceased are car 
 ried to the Place of Interment with their Faces bare. Whilst I was 
 in Venice, their Patriarch (who is a kind of Independent Pontiff in 
 his own way; for, as I have said, they reckon but little of his Holi¬ 
 ness here) died, and was buried ’with this Cerehionv. He was 
 carried in one of his own Coaches, by night, to St. Mark’s 
 Church, which was all hung with Black for the occasion; and next 
 day the Corpse was laid on a Bed in the very middle of the 
 Church, dressed in the Sacerdotal Habit, with the Head toward the 
 Choir, and his Tiara, or Miter, lying at the feet. At each corner of 
 the bed stood a valet de chambre, holding a Banner of Black Taffety, 
 with the Arms of the Deceased. A hundred large Wax Tapers 
 were placed in Candlesticks round the Bed, and High Mass was 
 sung; the Sopranos very beautiful. After Mass was over, all re¬ 
 tired; but the Body lay exposed till evening, when it was stripped 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 299 
 
 of its Vestments (for though a very Gorgeous people, they are 
 Economical in their ways), and put into a Leaden Coffin, inclosed 
 in another of Cypress, and was then let down into the Grave. Tis 
 not usual with the Relations to attend the Funeral, which they look 
 upon as a Barbarous Custom. But they wear Mourning longer and 
 more regularly than in many other countries. A woman in a 
 Mourning Habit appears Black from Head to Foot, not the least bit 
 of Linen being to be seen. 
 
 The nature of my Employment now brought me into intimate 
 
 Commerce with Monsieur B-, a French Merchant of Lyons, who 
 
 treated me with extraordinary Civility, and made great Offers of 
 being of Assistance to me in my Voyage to Constantinople, whither 
 I was now Bound. This Gentleman, by means of the French Em¬ 
 bassador at the Porte, had gotten a Firman, or Passport, to enable 
 him to Travel to that City, and, with a proper number of Attend¬ 
 ants, through any part of the Turkish Dominions. As ’tis incon¬ 
 venient and dangerous voyaging through the Territories of the Great 
 Turk without such a Protection, nothing could be more Agreeable 
 than the offer he made me of his Company, the more so as his Emi 
 nence had enjoined me to keep a Strict Watch upon everything 
 that M. B-said or did. He had designed to reach Constanti¬ 
 
 nople by Land through Bosnia, Servia, Bulgaria, and Roumania; 
 yet, in compliance with my Inclination (I wish my Inclination had 
 been at the Deuce), which was all for a Sea Passage, he consented 
 to embark on board a Vessel bound to Candia and other Islands of 
 the Archipelago, from which we were to procure a Passage to the 
 Capital of the Ottoman Empire, TV hat made this Gentleman’s 
 Society more acceptable, was his thorough Knowledge of the Trade 
 of the Levant, and the Genius and Temper of the People. Thus, 
 he informed me of the Method of Dealing with Jews, Armenians, 
 and Greeks; of the Eastern manner of traveling in Caravans, and 
 the necessary precautions against such Accidents as are mostly 
 fatal to Strangers; and instructed me in the Art of concealing 
 Things of Value—although I think I too could have given him a 
 Lesson in that Device—and avoiding those Snares which Governors, 
 Military Officers, and Petty Princes make use of in order to plunder 
 Travelers and Merchants. Under these favorable Auspices, we em¬ 
 barked in the Autumn of ’37, on board a Trading Vessel called the 
 “ San Maro,” bound for Candia, but first for Malta, so famous for 
 its Order of Knights. A fine Gale at North-West carried us pleas¬ 
 antly down the Gulf of Venice, or Adriatic Sea; and on the fifth 
 day we came in sight of Otranto, a Town destroyed by the Turks 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 300 
 
 nigli Three Hundred veal's ago, since which time it has hardly re¬ 
 gained its Ancient Luster, but at present well Fortified, and de¬ 
 fended by a High Castle, which I have heard the Honorable Mr. 
 Walpole, a Fine, Lardy-Dardy, Macaroni Gentleman, that lives at 
 a place called Strawberry Hill, by Twitnam, in England, has writ¬ 
 ten a silly Romantic Tale about. So we got clear of the Gulf of 
 Venice, and in three days more, after making Cape Passaro, in 
 Sicily, entered the Haven of Malta. 
 
 This is an Island that lies between Sicily and the Coast of Africa, 
 and is of an Egg-shaped figure, about twenty miles long and twelve 
 broad. The City of Malta is divided into three parts, which are 
 properly so many Rocks jutting out into the Sea, with large Har¬ 
 bors between them. That called Valetta, in honor of the Grand 
 Master who so gallantly defended the place against the Turks, is 
 extremely well Fortified, and also defended by a Castle, held to be 
 impregnable. The City contains about Two Thousand Houses, well 
 built with white Stone, and Flat-roofed, surrounded by Rails and 
 Balusters. On t’other side of the Harbor is another City, formerly 
 called II Borgo, or the Borough, but now named Citta Vittoriosa, 
 alluding to the terrible Mauling the Turks gol here in 1566. St. 
 John’s Church very handsome, and on one side of it a fine Piazza, 
 with a Fountain in the corner. Here are all the Tombs of the 
 Grand Masters, and a great many Flags taken from the Turks. The 
 Right Hand of St. John Baptist, wanting but Two Fingers, shown 
 here for Money, with many other Relics and Ornaments. The 
 Grand Master lives in a magnificent Palace; and close by is an 
 Arsenal, with Arms for Thirty Thousand Men. 
 
 The Treasury is a very stately Edifice; but what gives the high¬ 
 est Idea of the Charity of this illustrious Order is their noble Hos¬ 
 pital, where all the Sick are received and provided for with the ut¬ 
 most Care. The Rooms are large and commodious, and in each of 
 them there are but two Patients. Their Diet is brought to them in 
 rich Silver Plate by the Knights themselves, who are obliged to 
 this Attendance by their Constitutions; and such an exact Decorum 
 is observed, and everything performed with such Magnificence, 
 that it raises the astonishment of Strangers. 
 
 But if there be Charity and Benevolence for the Christian Sick, 
 there is little Mercy shown toward Infidels and Miscreants. The 
 Prison for the Slaves is an enormous Building, with a Colonnade 
 running round it, and capable of lodging three or four thousand of 
 those Unhappy People. There are seldom less than Two Thousand 
 in the House, except when the Galleys of the Order are at Sea upon 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 301 
 
 some Expedition. Then the Poor Wretches are Chained, Night and 
 Day, to the Oar; but when on Shore they have only a small Lock 
 on their Ankles, like the slaves at Leghorn, and are permitted to go 
 to any part of the Island, from which they have seldom an oppor¬ 
 tunity of making their Escape. 
 
 The Knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, commonly 
 called Knights of Malta, after removing from Jerusalem to Magratli, 
 from thence to Acre, and thence to Rhodes, were expelled from 
 that Island by the Sultan Solyman, having an Army of Three 
 Hundred Thousand Men. The Knights retired, first to Candia, 
 and then to Sicily; but at last the Emperor Charles the Fifth gave 
 ’em the Island of Malta, which they hold to this day. They 
 formerly consisted of Eight Languages or Tongues, according to 
 their Different Nations, viz., those of Provence, Auvergne, France, 
 Italy, Aragon, Germany, Castile, and England; but this last one 
 has been extinct since our Harry the Eighth’s time, and what En¬ 
 glish Knights there be who are Papists are forced to find their 
 Tongue where they can. Each of the Languages has its Chiefs, 
 who are also called Pillars and Grand Crosses, being distinguished 
 by a large White Cross broidered on their Breasts. The Seven 
 Languages have their respective Colleges and Halls in Malta, the 
 Head of each House being called the Grand Prior of his Nation; 
 and to each belongs a certain number of his Commanderies. The 
 Knights, at their entrance into the Order, must prove their Legiti¬ 
 macy, as well as Nobility, by four Descents, and are termed Cheva¬ 
 liers by Right. Those who are raised to the rank of Nobles, for 
 some Valiant Exploit, are called Chevaliers by Favor. None are 
 admitted by the Statutes of the Order under the age of Sixteen; but 
 some are received from their veiy Infancy on paying a large Sum 
 of Money, or by Dispensation from the Pope. All the Knights oblige 
 themselves to Celibacy, which does not hinder their leading very 
 Disorderly Lives; and indeed Malta is full of Loose Cattle of all 
 kinds. When they are Professed, a Carpet is spread on the Ground, 
 on which are set a Piece of Bread, a Cup of Water, and a Naked 
 Blade; and they are told, “ This is what Religion gives you. You 
 must procure yourself the rest with your Sword.” The which they 
 do, to a pretty considerable Tune, by spoiling of the Turks. After 
 they make their Vows, they wear a White Cross or Star, with Eight 
 Points, over their Cloaks or Coats, on the Left Side, which is the 
 proper Badge of their Order, the Golden Maltese Cross being only 
 an Ornament. The ordinaiy Habit of the Grand Master is a kind 
 of Cassock, open before, and tied about him with a Girdle, at which 
 
302 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 hangs a Purse, alluding to the Charitable ends of their Order—but 
 ’tis not to be denied that they have grown very Proud, and Live, 
 many of ’em, in as Shameful Luxury as the Prince Bishops of 
 Germany. Over his Cassock the Grand Master wears a Velvet 
 Gown or Cloak when he goes to Church on Solemn Festivals. He 
 is addressed under the Title of Eriiinence by all the Knights; but 
 his Subjects of Malta, and the neighboring Islands, style him Your 
 Highness. As Sovereign, he coins Money, pardons Criminals, and 
 bestows the places of Grand Priors, Bailiffs, etc.; but in most cases 
 of importance is obliged to seek the advice of his Council, so that 
 he is not wholly Absolute. The Ecclesiastics proper of the Order 
 —for the rest are but Military Monks, that do a great deal more 
 Fighting than Praying, and savor much more of the Camp than of 
 the Convent—are Chaplains, Monastic Clerks, and Deacons. They 
 likewise wear a White Cross, partake of the Privileges of the Insti¬ 
 tution, and are great Rascals. 
 
 ’Tis well known that the Knights of Malta are destined to the 
 Profession of Arms for the Defense of the Christian Faith, and the 
 Protection of Pilgrims of all Nations. It is to be observed that 
 there are also Female Hospitallers of the Order of St. John, some¬ 
 times called Chevalieres, or She-Knights, of equal Antiquity with 
 the Knights, whose business it is to take care of the Women Pil¬ 
 grims in a Hospital apart from that of the Men. As the Order look 
 upon the Turks as the Great Enemies of Christianity, they think 
 themselves obliged to be in a slate of perpetual Hostility with that 
 people, and, for Centuries, have never so much as signed the pre¬ 
 liminaries of a Peace with ’em. They have performed innumerable 
 and astonishing exploits against their much-hated Enemies, the In¬ 
 solence of whose Rovers they continue to Restrain and Chastise, 
 except when the Rovers, as sometimes happens, get the better of 
 ’em. They have Seven Galleys belonging to the Order, each of 
 which carries Five Hundred Men, and as many Wretches in Fetters 
 tugging away at the Oar for Dear Life. Every one of these Gal¬ 
 leys mounts Sixteen Pieces of Heavy Artillery; and besides these 
 they fit out a great many Private Ships, by license from the Grand 
 Master, to cruise up and down among the Turks, doing great Havoc, 
 and thereby growing very Rich. Thus it will be plain to the 
 Reader, that a Knight of Malta is a kind of Medley of Seamen, 
 Swashbuckler, and Saint—Admiral Benbow, Field-Marshal Wade, 
 and Friar Tuck all rolled up into one. 
 
 I did become acquainted with one of these Holy Roistering 
 Cavalieros, by the name of Don Ercolo Amadeo Sparafucile di San 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 303 
 
 Lorenzo, that was a perfect Model of all these Characteristics. He 
 Confessed with almost as great regularity as he Sinned. The 
 Chaplains must have held him as one of the heartiest of Penitents; 
 for he never came back from a Cruise without a whole Sackful of 
 Misdeeds, and straightway hied him to St. John’s Church, to fling 
 his Sinful Ballast overboard and lighten Ship. How he swore! I 
 never heard a man take the entrails of Alexander the Great in vain 
 before; but this was an ordinary expletive with Don Ercolo. He 
 belonged to the Italian Language, though I suspected he had a dash 
 of the Spanish in him; and many a Gay Bout over the choicest of 
 Wines have I had with him at his Inn, as their College-halls are 
 sometimes called. He could drink like a Fish, and fight like a 
 Paladin. He was a good Practical Sailor and Master of Naviga¬ 
 tion; Rode with ease and dexterity; and was a Proficient in that 
 most difficult trick of the Manege, that of riding a horse en Biais, 
 as the French term it, and of which our Newcastle has learnedly 
 treated; was an admirable Performer on the Guitar and Viol di 
 Gamba; Sung very sweetly; Fenced exquisitely; must have been in 
 his Youth (he was now about Sixty, and his Hair was grizzled gray) 
 as Beautiful as a Woman, as Graceful as my Sweet Protectress 
 Lilias, as Brave as the Cid, and as Cruel as Pedro of Spain. As it 
 is so long ago, and the Principal Parties in the Affair are all Dead, 
 
 I don’t mind disclosing that my Instructions from his Eminence the 
 Cardinal were to Buy the Cavaliere di San Lorenzo at any Price. I 
 told him so plainly over a Flask of Right Alicant, at a little Feast I 
 had made for him in return for his many Hospitalities, and gave 
 him to understand that he had but to say the vmrd, and Scroppa, 
 the great Goldsmith of Strada Reale, would be glad to cash his 
 Draft for any Sum under Fifty Thousand Ducats. For his Emi¬ 
 nence wanted the Cavaliere to be a Friend of France, and France 
 at that time thought that she very much wanted the Island of Malta. 
 
 Don Ercolo was not in the least angry; only, he laughed in my 
 Face. 
 
 “Chevalier Escarbotin,” he said gayly, “you have mistaken 
 
 your man. Tell his Eminence the Cardinal de-that he may go 
 
 and hang himself. I am not to be bought. I am Rich to Two 
 Hundred and Fifty Thousand ounces of Gold, all got out of spoil¬ 
 ing the Infidels. When I die, I shall leave half to the Order, and 
 half to the families of certain Poor Women Creatures whom I have 
 •wronged, and who are Dead.’’ 
 
 I said, to appease him, that I w r as but Joking. 
 
 “ Ta, ta, ta!’’ retorts he. “ I know r your Trade well enough. I 
 
304 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 have been too much among men not to be able to scent out a Spy. 
 But you are a very Jovial Fellow, Escarbotin; and I don’t care 
 what you are, so long as you are not a Turk, which, by the way, I 
 don’t think you would mind turning.” 
 
 “ Oh, Signore Cavaliere!”—I began to expostulate. 
 
 “ What does it matter?” quoth Don Ercolo. “ Does it matter 
 anything at all ? Perhaps some of these days, when I am tired of 
 the Eight Points, I shall take the Turban myself.” 
 
 “ A Renegado!” I cried. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Many a brave Gentleman has turned Renegado ere this, ’ ’ an¬ 
 swered he. “ Next to the pleasure of Fighting the Turks, I should 
 esteem the condition of being a Turk myself, and fighting against 
 the Order of Malta. But I forgot. You are a Lutheran; although 
 how you came to bd a Protestant, with that name of Escarbotin, I 
 can’t make out.” 
 
 I murmured something about belonging to the Reformed Church 
 at Geneva; although I forgot that they were mostly Calvinists there, 
 not Lutherans. But of this Don Ercolo took little notice, and 
 went on. 
 
 “ When you write to the Cardinal, tell him that Ercolo Armadeo 
 Sparafucile di San Lorenzo is not to be purchased. The sly old 
 Fox! He knows I have great influence with my Uncle the Grand 
 Master. Tell him that I am very much obliged to him for his 
 Offer, and thank him for old Acquaintance sake. Nay; I believe 
 I am some kind of Kinsman of liis Eminence, on the Mother’s side. 
 But assure him tjiat I am not in the least Angry with him. If I 
 were Poor, I should probably accept his Offer; but none of the 
 Poor Knights of our Order are worth Buying. It matters little to 
 me whether France, or Spain, or even Heretic England gets hold of 
 this scorching Rock, with its Swarms of Hussies and Rascals; only 
 I prefer amusing myself, and fighting the Turks, to meddling in 
 Politics, and running the risk of a life-long dungeon in the Castle 
 of St. Elmo.” 
 
 There was a long Silence after this, and he seemed plunged in 
 profound Meditation. Suddenly he fills a Cup with Wine, drains 
 it, and, in his old careless manner, says to me, 
 
 “Tell him this—be sure to tell him, lest he should be at the 
 trouble of sending Emissaries to Poison me—I have the best Anti¬ 
 dote of any in the Levant, and shall take three drops of it after 
 every Bite and Sup for Six Months to come. Not that I dread you. 
 All Spy as you are, you still look like an Honest Fellow. You 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 305 
 
 would not poison an old Friend, would you, Little Jack Danger¬ 
 ous?” 
 
 I started to my feet, and stared at the grizzled, handsome Knight 
 in blank amazement. We had been conversing in the French 
 tongue; but the latter part of his Speech he had uttered in mine own 
 English, and with a faultless accent. Moreover, where before had 
 1 heard that Voice, had I seen that Face? My Memory rolled back 
 over the hills and valleys of years; but the Mountains were too high, 
 and (he Recesses behind them inaccessible without Mental Climb¬ 
 ing, for which I was not prepared. 
 
 tf Little Jack Dangerous,” continued the grizzled Knight, “ where 
 have you been these Seven-and-thirty Years? When I knew you 
 first, you were but a poor little Runaway School-boy, and I was a 
 Tearing Fellow in the Flush and Pride of my hot Youth.” 
 
 “ A Runaway School-boy! ’ I stammered. 
 
 “ Ay! had you not fled from the Tyranny of one Gnawbit?’ ’ 
 
 “ I remember Gnawbit well,” I answered, with a shudder. 
 
 “ Do you remember Chari wood Chase, and the Blacks that were 
 wont to kill Venison there?” 
 
 “Ido.” 
 
 “And Mother Drum, and Cicely, and Jowler, and the Night 
 Attack, and how near you were being hanged? Do you remember 
 Captain Night?” 
 
 A Light broke in upon me. I recognized my earliest Protector. 
 I seized his Hand. I was fairly blubbering, and would have rushed 
 into his Arms; but there was something Cold and Haughty in his 
 Manner that repulsed me. 
 
 “ ’Tis well,” he said. “ I am a Knight of the most Illustrious 
 Order of St. John, of Jerusalem, and an Italian Cavalier of Degree. 
 You—” 
 
 ‘ ‘ I am a Spy, ’ ’ I cried out, half sobbing. ‘ ‘ What was I to do ? 
 My Malignant Fate hath ever been against me. I am despicable in 
 your Eyes, but not so despicable as I am in mine own.” 
 
 “ There, there,” he cries out, very placably. “ There’s no great 
 harm done, and there’s much of a muchness between us. When 
 you first came across me, was I not stealing the King’s Deer in 
 Chari wood Chase, besides being in Trouble—I don’t mind owning 
 to you now—on account of King James? ’Twixt you, Jack 
 Dangerous, Flibustier, Saltabadil, and Spy, and Captain Night, 
 now called Don Ercolo et cetei a et cetera di San Lorenzo, and a 
 Knight of Malta, there is not much, perhaps, to choose. The World 
 hath its strange Ups and Downs, and we must e’en make the best 
 
306 ' 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 of them. Sit you down, Jack Dangerous, and we will have t’other 
 Flask.” 
 
 We had t’other Flask, and very good Wine it was; and for the 
 rest of the time I remained in Malta, Don Ercolo continued to be 
 mry Fast Friend, even as he had been in my Youth. And yet ’twas 
 mainly through his Instrumentality that I quitted the Island; for 
 lie sent his Page to me with a Letter, written in our dear English 
 Tongue, in the which he instantly desired me, as I valued my Life 
 and the Interests of my Employers, to put the Broad Seas between 
 myself and the Grand Master; for that an Inkling of my Errand 
 had got Wind, and that the Party unfavorable to France being then 
 uppermost, I ran immediate risk of being cast into a Dungeon, if 
 not Hanged. For this Reason, said Don Ercolo, he must forbear 
 any further Commerce with me (not wishing to draw Suspicion on 
 himself, for the Knights are very jealous in Political Affairs): but 
 lie assured me of his continued Friendship, and desired if I stood 
 in Need of any Funds for my Journey to inform the Page that he 
 might furnish me secretly with what Gold I needed, But I wanted 
 nothing in this way, having ample Credits; so making up my 
 Yalises with all convenient Speed, the Chevalier Escarbotin bade 
 adieu to Malta. 
 
 I took a Passage in a Speronare that was bound to Candia, where 
 I hoped to find some Trading Vessel of heavier Burden to take me 
 to Constantinople. The Mediterranean Sea here is very beautiful, 
 and delightful to see the Dolphins, Tunnies, and other Fish, that 
 frequently leaped out of the Water, and followed our Ship in great 
 Numbers. Also a Waterspout, which is a Phenomenon very well 
 known to Seamen in the Levant Trade, and reckoned very danger¬ 
 ous. It looked mighty Fierce and Terrific; and our Sailors, to 
 conjure it away, had recourse to the Superstitious Devices of cut¬ 
 ting the air with a Black-Handled Knife, and reading the First 
 Chapter of St. John’s Gospel, accounted of great Effic icy in dis¬ 
 persing these Spouts. 
 
 Woe is me! After Six Days’ most pleasant Sailing, and after 
 doubling Cape Spada, and in very sight of Canea (which is the 
 Port of Candia), a strange Sail hove in Sight, gave Chase, came up 
 to us an hour before sundown, and without as much as By your 
 leave or With your leave, opened Fire upon us. A Couple of 
 Swingers from her Double-shotted Guns were a Bellyful for our 
 poor little Speronare, in which there were but Ten Men and a Boy, 
 Passengers included; and we were fain to submit. Oh, the in¬ 
 tolerable Shame and Disgrace! that Jack Dangerous, w t 1io had been 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 307 
 
 All Round the World with that Renowned Commander, Captain 
 Blokes, and had Chased, Taken, and Plundered many a good tall 
 Ship belonging to the Spaniards—ay, and had landed on their Main, 
 Spoiled their Cities and Settlements, Toasted their fine Ladies, and 
 held their Chief Governors to Ransom—should be laid in the Bil¬ 
 boes by a Rascally African Pirate Vessel mounting Nine Guns, and 
 belonging to the most Heathenish, Knavish, and Blood-thirsty Town 
 of Algiers. My Gall works now to think of it; but Force was 
 against us, and the Disaster was not to be helped. I was in such a 
 Mad Rage as to be near Braining the Captain of the Speronare with 
 a Marline-Spike, and would have assuredly blown out the Brains of 
 the first Moor that boarded us, had not the Italian Captain and his 
 Mate seized each one of my arms, and by Main Force wrested my 
 Weapons from me. And in this (though hotly enraged with 'em at 
 first, and calling them all kinds of Abusive Epithets) I think they 
 acted less like Traitors than like Persons of Sense and Discretion; 
 for what were we Ten (and the Boy) against full Fifty powerful 
 Devils, all armed to the Teeth, and who would assuredly have cut 
 all our Throats had we shown the least Resistance. 
 
 So they had their Will of us, and we were all made Prisoners, pre¬ 
 paratory to undergoing the worse Fate of Slaves. Vain now, indeed, 
 were all his Eminence’s Secret Precautions about the Concealment 
 of Missives; for these Rascal Moors made no more ado, but stripped 
 us of every Rag of Clothing, ripping up the Seams thereof, and ex¬ 
 amining our very Hair, in quest of Gold and Jewels. The Boat¬ 
 swain, however,' that was appointed to search me, after taking from 
 me all my Stock of Money, which was Considerable, returned to 
 me the famous Bit of Parchment between the Glasses, which was 
 to bear me Harmless against the Claws of Holy Mother Church if 
 she happened to turn Tiger-Cat; for these Mohammedans have a pro¬ 
 found respect for Charms and Amulets, and very like he took this 
 for one, which could be no good to him, an Infidel, but might serve 
 a Frank at a pinch. There was another Article, too, which he re¬ 
 stored to me, after Examination, and of which I have hitherto made 
 no mention. What was this but a little Portrait of my Beloved 
 Protectress, which I carried with me next my Heart? Not that I 
 had ever ventured to be so bold as to Ask her for such a pledge, or 
 that she had favored me enough to give it me; but while I was in 
 Paris there had been limned by the great French Painter, Monsieur 
 Boucher, a Picture of one of the Opera Ballets, not Orpheus’s Story, 
 but something out of Homer’s Poetry —Ulysse chez Alanous, I think 
 ’twas called—and this Picture contained very Life-like Effigies of 
 
308 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 all the Dancers that stood in the front rank, of whom my sweet 
 Mistress Lilias w r as one. From this an Engraving in the Line Man¬ 
 ner was made, which was put forth by the Printsellers just before I 
 left Paris; and I declare I gave a Louis d’Or, Ten Livres, Twelve 
 Sols for a Copy, and cutting out the Pictured Head of my Protect¬ 
 ress with a sharp Penknife, had it pasted down and framed in a 
 Golden Locket. When the Boatswain saw this he Grinned, till the 
 Turban round his tawny Head might have been taken for a Horse- 
 collar. He wrenched the Portrait out of its Frame, and put the Gold 
 among the heap of Plunder that was gathered, for after division, on 
 the Deck, and was then about to throw the dear Bit of Paper into 
 the Sea—for these Moors think it Sinful to portray the Human 
 Countenance in any way—but I besought him so Earnestly, both 
 by Signs and supplicatory Gestures, and even, I believe, Tears, to 
 restore it to me, that he desisted; and putting his Finger to his 
 Lips, as a Hint that I was not to reveal his Clemency to his Com¬ 
 mander, gave me back my precious Portrait. He would have, 
 however, the fine Chain I wore round my Neck; so I was fain to 
 make an Opening between the two Sheets of Glass that covered my 
 Amulet, and push in the Portrait, face downward; and the two 
 together I hung to a bit of slender Lanyard. But all my brave 
 Clothes were taken from me, and in an Hour after my Capture I 
 was Barefooted, and with no other Apparel than a Ragged Shirt 
 and a Pair of Drawers of Canvas. To this Accouterment was 
 speedily added about Twenty-one Pounds of Fetters on the Wrists 
 and Ankles; and then I, and the Captain, and the Mate, and the 
 Men, and the Boy, were put into a Boat and taken on board the 
 Algerine, where we were flung into the Hold, and had nothing 
 better to eat for many days than Moldy Biscuit and Bilge-Water. 
 The Cargo of the “ Speronare ” was mostly Crockery-ware and 
 Household Stuff, for the use of the Candites; and the Moors 
 would not be at the trouble of Removing, so they Scuttled her, and 
 bore away to the Norrard. 
 
 Item .—I swallowed my Dispatches: but the Moors got hold of 
 my Letters of Credit and m 3 ' Cipher. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH. 
 
 AFTER MANY SURPRISING VISCISSITUDES J. DANGEROUS BECOMES 
 
 BESTUSCHID BASHAW'. 
 
 So we were all taken into Algiers. ’Tis called “ The Warlike ” 
 by that proud People the Turks; but with much more Reason, I 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 309 
 
 think, should it be named “ The Thievish. ” Out upon the Rob¬ 
 bers’ Den This most abominable Place, which has, during so 
 many Ages, braved the Resentment of the most powerful Princes 
 of Christendom, is said to contain above 100,000 Mohammedans— 
 among them not above Thirty Renegadoes—15,000 Jews, and 4000 
 Christian Slaves. ’Tis full of Mosques and other Heathenish places 
 of Worship, and is strongly Fortified, both toward the-Sea and the 
 Land. The Ship that took us was a Brigantine; and they have 
 nigh a Hundred of ’em (besides Row-boats), mounting from Ten to 
 Fifly Guns, with which they ravage the Trade of Europe. There 
 is little within the City that is Curious, save the Dogs, which are 
 very abundant, and very Fierce and Nasty. The street Bab-Azoun 
 is full of shops, and Jews dealing in Gems and Goldsmiths’ Work. 
 The Hills and Valleys round the City are everywhere beautified 
 with Gaidens and Country Seats, whither the Wealthy Turks retire 
 during the Heats of Summer. Some of the Wild Bedoween Tribes 
 up the country go Bare-headed, binding their Temples only with a 
 Fillet to prevent their hair growing troublesome. But the Moors 
 and Turks in Algiers wear on the crowns of their Heads a small 
 Cap of Scarlet Woolen Cloth, thal is made at Fez. The Turban is 
 folded round the bottom of these Caps, and by the fashion of the 
 folds you can tell the Soldiers from the Citizens The Arabs wear 
 a loose Garment called a Hyke, which serves them as a complete 
 Dress by Day, and a Bed and Coverlet by Night ’Tis observable 
 that when the Moorish women appear in Public they constantly 
 fold themselves so close up in their Hykes that very little of their 
 Faces can be seen; hut in the Summer Months, when they retire to 
 their Country Seats, they walk about with less Caution and Reserve, 
 and, at the approach of a Stranger, only let fall their Veils. 
 
 What became of the Master and Crew of the Speronare I 
 know not. They were but Weakly Creatures; and 1 conjecture 
 were sold off into private Hands and sent up the country. Now, 
 although I was past the Middle Age, and indeed drifting into years, 
 I was still of Unbowed Stature and great Strength, and a Personable 
 Fellow, hardened in the furnace of Danger and Adventure. This 
 led to my being reserved from the public Slave-Market for the Dey 
 of Algiers’s own use. Woe is me, again! The Distinction profited 
 me little, for it merely amounted to my being made Stroke-oar of 
 the third row of the Dey’s State-barge, or Galleasse. Imagine me 
 now, in a Tunic and Urawers of Scarlet Serge, and a White Turban 
 round my Head to keep me from Sunstroke, chained by the Ankles 
 to a bench, and with an Iron Collar round my Neck, from which 
 
310 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 another Chain passed to a Bar running fore and aft the whole 
 length of the Galleasse. Between the benches of Rowers runs a 
 narrow Planking; and up and down this continually patrols a great 
 Tawny Ruffian of a Moorish Boatswain, armed with a Whip of 
 Rhinoceros Hide, which, with a Will, he lays on to the Shoulders 
 of those who do not tug hard enough at the Oar. Miserable and 
 fallen as was my state, I did yet manage to evade the crowning 
 Degradation of Stripes; for, being a Man used to the Sea, and full 
 of Courageous Activity, 1 got through my toil so as to make it im¬ 
 possible for my Superiors to find fault with me; and besides, in a * 
 few words of Lingua Franca that I picked up, I gave the Boatswain 
 to understand that if ever he hit me "with his Rhinoceros Thong, I 
 should take the earliest opportunity of Strangling him. As for our 
 Food, ’twas mainly Beans, and in the morning a Mess of boiled 
 Maize they call Couscoussou, with some villainous Rank Butter, 
 melted, poured over it. And sometimes the Carcass of a Sheep 
 that had died of Disease was given to us. But whatever w r e had 
 was eaten on our benches, and the Cook of the Galleasse passed up 
 and down the planking to serve out the Rations. We Eat on our 
 benches, we Slept on our benches, and some of us Died on our 
 benches. There were Ninety-two Christian Slaves on board the 
 Dey’s Galleasse, and Twelve on my Bench. Being Stroke-oar, I 
 was spared the continual contemplation of a Man’s back in front 
 of me, which other Slaves have told me makes you so mad that you 
 want to Bite him; but ’twas scarcety less Vexatious to have behind, 
 as I had, a Chattering Fellow of a Frenchman, forever jabbering 
 forth his complaints, and not bearing them witjjj the surly Dignity 
 of a Briton. I could almost hear this fellow grimace; and he was 
 never tired of bemoaning his by-gone happy state as a Hair-dresser’s 
 Journeyman in the Rue St. Honore at Paris. “ Why did a Vain 
 Ambition prompt me to journey from Marseilles to Constanti¬ 
 nople?” cried he about Fifty times a day. “ Why did I rely on 
 the protection of my Wife’s Cousin, who gave N me recommendations 
 to his brother, Cook-in-Cliief to the Embassador of France at the 
 court of the Antique Byzantium {Vantique Byzance)% Where is my 
 Wife? Where is my Wife’s Cousin? They are drinking the wine 
 of Ramonneau; they are dancing at the Barriers. Oh, my Cocotte! 
 where is my Cocotte?” 
 
 “ Hang your Cocotte!” I used to cry out in a rage. “ ’Tis bad 
 enough to be mewed up here like a Bear in a pit, without being 
 worried by a confounded Barber’s Clerk!” 
 
 I had been Tugging at the Oar full Six Months, when a change 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 311 
 
 came over my lamentable Lot. The Dey of Algiers was at this 
 time one Mahomet Bassa, a very Bold, Fierce, Fighting Man, but 
 of the Meanest Extraction, and one, indeed, that had been no more 
 than a common Soldier, from which he had sprung to be, by turns, 
 Oda-Bashee or Lieutenant, Bullock-Bashee or Captain, Tiah-Bashee 
 or Colonel, and Aga or General. For among these strange people 
 overy valiant and aspiring Soldier—I wish ’twas so in England— 
 though taken yesterday from the Plow, may be considered as Heir 
 Apparent to the Throne. Nor are they ashamed of the obscurity of 
 their birth. This Mahomet Bassa, in a dispute he once had with 
 the Spanish Consul, said: “ My mother sold Sheep’s Trotters, and 
 my father Neat’s Tongues; but they would have been ashamed to 
 expose for sale on their stalls a Tongue so worthless as thine.” 
 Mahomet Bassa was, like most of the Turks, a man of Pleasure, 
 and his Harem was furnished with an extraordinary number of 
 choice Beauties. 
 
 His Highness (as he is called), happening to single me out from 
 the rest of the Slaves on board the Galleasse, and being told that I 
 was English—for equally in hopes of Bettering my Condition, and 
 for the purpose of keeping Secret my Employment with his Emi¬ 
 nence, I had avowed myself to be of that Nation—ordered me to be 
 released from my Chains, and brought before hirr. at the Divan. 
 Through his Interpreter, a cunning Rogue from Corfu, who spoke 
 most Languages indifferently well, he asked me who I was, and 
 how I came to be aboard the Speronare. I answered, conveni 
 ently mixing fact with fiction, that I had been a Captain by Sea 
 and Land in the Service of the King of England; that I had earned 
 a good deal of Prize-Money; had retired from Active Duties, being 
 now nigh upon Fifty years of Age, and was taking my pleasure by 
 voyaging in a part of Europe with which I had hitherto been little 
 acquainted. This Answer seemed to satisfy him pretty well; al¬ 
 though he was very curious to know whether I had any Kindred 
 in the Island of Malta, or any foregathering among the Knights. 
 Fortunately for me the Interpreter, to whom I had given a hint of 
 ultimate Reward, deposed that I could not speak’twenty words of 
 Maltese (which is a kind of Bastard Italian); and he told me that if 
 it had been discovered that I was in any way Connected with the 
 Order, I should surely have been Impaled; the Dej- being then in a 
 towering Rage with the Knights, one of whose Commanders had 
 just captured one of his finest Brigantines, and Dressed Ship, as he 
 humorously put it, by hanging every Man-Jack of the Crew at the 
 Yard-arm, and the Algerine Captain at the Mizzen. The Dey then 
 
312 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEHOUS. 
 
 asked me if I had any Friends who I thought would pay my Ran¬ 
 som, the which he placed at the Moderate Computation of Four 
 Thousand Gold Achmedies (about Fifteen Hundred Pounds ster- 
 ling). I answered, that I thought I could raise about half that 
 Sum, if I were allowed to communicate with one Monsieur Foscue, 
 a Banker at Marseilles, upon whom I had—or rather my Captors 
 had—a Letter of Credit, which they had taken from me. But by 
 Ill-luck this Letter of Credit could not be found. The Captain and 
 Crew of the “ Rover ” that took the Speronare were all well 
 bastinadoed about it, bul no Letter was forthcoming; and I am 
 more inclined to think that it was thrown, in sheer Ignorance, over¬ 
 board, than that it was Embezzled. However, as ’twas not to be 
 discovered, the Dey began to look upon me as an Impostor; but I 
 earnestly represented to the Interpreter that, if I had time to write 
 to Monsieur Foscue, all would be right. This I had his Highness’s 
 gracious permission to do, and meanwhile was to remain a Slave; 
 but was not sent back to the Galleys. Being a Strong Fellow, and 
 professing to know something about Gardening—Lord help me! I 
 had never touched a Spade ten times in my Life—I was sent to 
 work in his Highness’s Gardens at the Castle of Sitteet-ako-Leet. 
 As for my Letter, I penned it in as good French as I could muster, 
 begging Monsieur Foscue to communicate at once with his Emi¬ 
 nence, telling him how I had been captured, and that my Letter of 
 Credit had been taken from me, and of the Sorry Plight I was now 
 in. I was given to understand that from Six to Nine Months must 
 pass by before I could expect an Answer; for that Safe Conducts 
 to Christian Packets between Algiers and Marseilles were only 
 granted thrice a year, and the last was but just departed. Where, 
 upon I resigned myself to my Captivity, hoping for Better Days. 
 
 The Head Gardener of the Dey was an old Renegado German, 
 named Baupwitz, who tried hard to convert me to the Mussulman 
 Faith. Bul in addition to my stanch Attachment to the Protestant 
 Religion, I could see that the State and Condition of the few Rene- 
 gados in Algiers was very mean and miserable, and that they were 
 despised alike by Turks, Moors, Arabs, Bedoweens, and Jews. 
 And, indeed, what good had Baupwitz done himself by turning 
 Paynim? Thus much I put to him plainly; at which the Old Man 
 was angered, and for some days used me very spitefully; when the 
 Dey, coming to the Castle, took it into his head to have me brought 
 back to Algiers, and enrolled among his musicians as a Player upon 
 the Cymbals. I declare that although able to troll out a Stave now 
 and then, I could not so much as Whistle “ God save the King;’* 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 313 
 
 "but I managed to clash my two Saucepan-Lids or Cymbals together 
 and to make a Noise, which is all the Turks care for, they having 
 no proper Ear for Music. As one of his Highness's Musicians, I 
 was dressed very grandly, with a monstrous Turban all covered 
 with Gold Spangles and Silk Tassels; but I had a Collar of Silver 
 riveted round my Neck, and Silver Shackles round my Ankles, and 
 Silver Manacles round my Wrists; and was still a Slave. 
 
 The rest of the Musicians were either Black Negroes or Cophtic 
 Christians, and they used me with Decent Civility; nor did the 
 Master of the Musicians—otherwise a most cruel Moor—go out of 
 his way to flout, much less smite me with his Rattan. If he had 
 dared but to lay one Stripe upon me I would have sprung upon the 
 Wifetch and dashed out his Brains with my Cymbals, eren if I had 
 been put upon the Pale for it half an hour afterward. 
 
 Lodged in the Guard-house at the Dey’s Palace, with pretty 
 abundant Rations, and some few Piastres daily to buy Wine (I being 
 a Frank) and Tobacco, and pretty well treated by the Colologlies> 
 or Moorish soldiers, I did not pass such a very bad time of it; and 
 wheh off Duty, had liberty to go about the City and Suburbs pretty 
 much as I chose. And I was a hundred times better off than the 
 Moslem Slaves are at Malta. 
 
 These Algerines are an Uncouth, Savage People; and the Turkish 
 Despotism has quite destroyed that security and Liberty which of 
 old gave birth and encouragement to Learning; hence the knowl¬ 
 edge of Medicine, Philosophy, and the Mathematics, which once so 
 flourished among the Arabs, is now almost entirely lost. The chil¬ 
 dren of the Moors and Turks are sent to School at about Six years 
 old, where they are taught to Read and Write for the value of 
 about a Penny a week of our Money. Instead of Paper or a Plate, 
 each boy has a piece of thin square Board, slightly daubed over 
 with Whiting; on this he makes his Letters, which may be wiped 
 off or renewed at pleasure. Having made some progress in the 
 Koran, he is initiated into the Ceremonies and Mysteries of the Mo¬ 
 hammedan Religion; and when he has distinguished himself in any 
 of these branches of Learning, he is Richly Dressed, mounted on a 
 Horse finely Caparisoned, and paraded, amidst the LIuzzas of his 
 School-fellows, through the Streets; while his Friends and Rela¬ 
 tions assemble to congratulate his Parents, and load him with Toys 
 and Sweetmeats. And this Observance answers to our Western 
 Rite of Confirmation. But after being three or four years at School, 
 the Boys are put ’Prentice to Trades or enrolled in the Array, wiiere 
 they very speedily forget all they have learned. 
 
314 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Though such bold Sailors, the Algerines are very despicable as 
 Navigators. Their chief Astronomer, Muley Hamet Ben Daoud, 
 when I was there, who superintended and regulated the Hours of 
 Prayer by the Moon and Stars, had not the skill to make a Sun¬ 
 dial; and in Navigation they can not get beyond Pricking of a 
 Chart, and distinguishing the Eight principal Points of the Com¬ 
 pass. Even Chemistry, which was once the favorite Science of 
 these people, is at present only applied to the Distilling of a little 
 Rose-water. The Physicians chiefly study the Spanish Translation 
 of Dioscorides (that was a Learned Leech in Olden Times); but the 
 Figures of the Plants and Animals are more consulted than the 
 Descriptions; yet are these Knaves naturally Subtle and Ingenious; 
 wanting nothing but Application and Patronage to cultivate and im¬ 
 prove their faculties. They are for the most part Predestinarians, 
 and pay little regard to Physic, either leaving the Disorder to con¬ 
 tend with Nature, or making use of Charms and Incantations. 
 They, however, resort to the Hammam, or Hot Bagnio (a great 
 Sweating-bath, and a sovereign Remedy for most Distempers), and 
 have a few Specifics in general use. Thus, in Pleurisy and the 
 Rheumatics they make several Punctures on the part affected with a 
 Red-hot Needle; and into simple Gunshot Wounds they pour Fresh 
 Butter almost boiling hot. The Prickly Pear roasted in Ashes is 
 applied to Bruises, Swellings, and Inflammations; and a dram or 
 two of the Round Birth wort is esteemed the best remedy in the 
 world for the Clioler. But few Compound Medicines; only, for 
 that dreadful scourge the Plague (from which Lord deliver all Men 
 not being Heathens!) they commonly use a Mixture of Myrrh, 
 Saffron, Aloes, and Syrup of Myrtle-berries—which does not hinder 
 ’em from dying like Sheep with the Rot. 
 
 There are no Public Clocks here; those contrivances, with Bells, 
 being held an Impious Aping of Providence. And the only way 
 you have of telling the Time is by the Fellows up in the Minarets 
 calling ’em to Prayers. Some of the rich Agas have Watches, 
 bought or stolen out of Europe; but they are usually spoiled by the 
 Women of the Harem playing with ’em. The Dev’s principal 
 Wife, Zoraide Khanum, is said to have boiled a large Gold Chro¬ 
 nometer, made by Silvain of Paris, with Cream and Sweet Almonds. 
 Yet does a remnant of their Ancestors’ old skill in Arithmetic and 
 Algebra linger among ’em; for whereas not one in Twenty Thou¬ 
 sand can do an Equation (and Captain Blokes taught me, and I 
 have since forgotten How), yet the Merchants are frequently very 
 dexterous in Reckoning by Memory, and have also a singular 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 315 
 
 method of Numeration, by putting tlieir hands into each other’s 
 Sleeves, and touching one another with this or that Finger, or a 
 particular Joint, each standing for a determined Sum or Number. 
 Thus, without ere moving their lips—and your Mussulman has a 
 wholesome horror of squandering Words—they conclude Bargains 
 •of the Greatest Value. 
 
 None of the Women think themselves completely Adorned till 
 they have tinged the Lashes and the edges of their Eyelids with the 
 powder of Lead-Ore. This they do by dipping a Bodkin of the 
 thickness of a Quill into the Powder, and dragging it under the 
 Eyelids. This gives their Eyes a Sooty color, but is thought to 
 add a Wonderfal Grace to their Complexions. And was not this 
 that which Jezebel did in the Ancient Time?* The Old Custom of 
 plighting their Troth by drinking out of each other’s Hand is the 
 only Ceremony used by the Algerians at their Marriages. The 
 Bridegroom may put away his Wife whenever he pleases, upon the 
 forfeiture of the Dowry he has settled upon her; but he can not 
 afterward take her again until she has been Remarried and Divorced 
 from another Man. After all, the Wives are only held as a better 
 class of Servants, that when their Toil is over become Toys. The 
 greater part of the Moorish Women would be esteemed Beauties 
 even in England, and as Children they have the finest Complexions 
 in the World; but at Thirty they become Wrinkled Old Women. 
 For a Girl is often a Mother at Eleven, and a Grandmother at 
 Twenty-two; and their Lives being generally as long as Europeans’, 
 these Matrons often live to see Children of many Generations. 
 They are desperately Superstitious, and hang the Figure of an Open 
 Hand round the Necks of their Children; and never an Algerine 
 Pirate goes out of Port without such a Hand painted on the Stern, 
 as a counter Charm to an Evil Eye. Truly there are some Chris¬ 
 tian Folks not much less foolish in their Superstitions; and Rich 
 and Poor among the Neapolitans carry a forked bit of Coral about 
 with them, to conjure away this same Evil Eye, which they call 
 Gettatura. 
 
 They have a kind of Monks called Marabutts, who are supposed 
 to lead an Austere Life, and pass their lives in counting a Chaplet 
 of Ninety-nine Beads; but who are, in truth, Impudent Beggars, 
 Thieves, and Profligates. And this is pretty well the Character of 
 the whole body of Algerines, from the Dey in his Palace to his 
 Father who sells Sheep’s Trotters. There are a few Grave People, 
 
 * 2 Kings ix: 30. 
 
316 
 
 CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 in no constant Employ (that is to say, they have made their Fortunes 
 by Murder and Piracy, and are now Retired), who spend the day, 
 either in conversing with one another at the Barbers’ Shops, or at 
 the Bazaars and Coffee-houses. But the greater part of the Moorish 
 and Turkish Youth are the wildest of Gallants and Roisterers, and 
 waste their time in the most unseemly Fandangoes. 
 
 Item .—These Marabutts are no better than the Mountebanks I 
 have seen at the Carnival of Venice or at Southwark Fair. One 
 Seedy Mustaplia tells me that a neighboring Marabutt had a solid 
 Iron Bar, which, upon command, would give the same Report and 
 do as much Mischief as a Piece of Cannon. At Seteef, too, there 
 was one famous for Vomiting Fire; but the Renegado Baupwitz, 
 who had seen him, assured me ’twas all a Trick; that his Mouth 
 did certainly seem to be all in a Blaze, while he counterfeited Vio¬ 
 lent Agony; but that on close inspection it appeared that the Flames 
 and Smoke with which he was surrounded arose from Tow and 
 Sulphur, which he had contrived to kindle under his Hyke. The 
 most commendable thing I can find in the Algerine Character is the 
 great respect they pay to their Dead. They don’t cram ’em into 
 stifling little Graveyards in the midst of crowded towns, as we do, 
 to our injury and shame; but have large Burial-grounds, at a good 
 distance from their towns and villages. Each Family lias a par¬ 
 ticular Part, walled in like a garden, where the Bones of their 
 Ancestors have remained undisturbed for many Generations. The 
 Graves are all distinct and separate, and the space between is 
 planted with Beautiful Flowers, bordered round with Stone, or 
 paved over with Tiles. The Graves of the Great People are like¬ 
 wise distinguished by Square Rooms with Cupolas built over them, 
 which, being kept constantly clean, whitewashed, and beautified, 
 nevertheless continue like the Hypocrites, and are but Sepulchers 
 full within of nothing but Dead Men’s-Bones. 
 
 It happened one fine Autumnal Afternoon, that, my Services as 
 Cymbal-Player not being required until the Dey’s Supper after 
 Evening Prayers, I was pandering for mere Amusement in some 
 of the least-frequented Streets of the City; which are here, for the 
 sake of Shade, mere narrow Lanes, without any Pavement but 
 Dust, and without a Door or Window from twenty yards to twenty 
 yards. In fact they are but Passages between almost dead walls; 
 the Houses themselves generally standing in the midst of the Gar¬ 
 dens. Now I quitted the Street of Baba-zoun by the Street of the 
 Shroffs, or Money-changers, designing to reach the Gate of the 
 River; but the Streets are all so much alike that I lost my Way, 
 
 $ ■ ■ 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 317 
 
 and went blundering on from one Lane into another, till I almost 
 despaired of finding my Road back again. I should be too late for 
 the Dey’s Supper, thought I; and although Jack Dangerous was 
 never given to Trembling, I began to feel very uncomfortable con¬ 
 cerning the Notice that Mahomet Bassa, wiio was never known to 
 have Pity on any Human Being, Man, Woman, or Child, might 
 take of my Absence. For these accursed Algerines are most cruel 
 in their Punishments. Trials are very swift, and Sentence is always 
 executed within half an hour afterward. Small Offenses are pun¬ 
 ished with the Bastinado, or the Rhinoceros Whip. For Clipping Dr 
 Debasing the Public Coin the old Egyptian punishment of cutting off 
 the Hands is inflicted; although the Dey, in one of his Furies, has 
 been known to have the Base Money melted, and poured down the 
 Coiner’s Throat. If a Jew or a Christian is guilty of Murder he is 
 Burned Alive without the gates of the City; but for the same Crime 
 the Moors and Arabs are either Impaled, hung up by the Neck over 
 the Battlements of the City, or thrown upon Hooks fixed upon the 
 Walls below, where they sometimes hang in Dreadful T( rments for 
 Thirty and Forty hours together before they Expire. The Turks, 
 however, out of respect for their Characters, are sent to the Aga’s 
 house, where they are either Bastinadoed or Strangled; and when 
 the Women offend they are not exposed to the populace, but are 
 sent to a private House of Correction; or, if the Crime be Capital, 
 they are sewn up in a Sack, carried out to Sea, and Drowned. And 
 for especial Criminals is reserved the Extraordinary Barbarous 
 punishment of Sawing Asunder; for which purpose they prepare 
 two Boards, of the same length and breadth as the Unfortunate 
 Person, and, having tied him betwixt them, begin sawing at the 
 Head, and so proceed till he is divided into Halves; ’Tis said that 
 Khardinash, a person who was not long since the Embassador at 
 the Court of England, suffered in this wise merely for maintaining, 
 in the face of the Dey, that the King of Great Britain had'only One 
 Wife. 
 
 All these Grim Probabilities did I revolve in my mind, as the Sun 
 went on sinking, and I could meet nothing but a few Rapscallion 
 Boys that, when I strove to stammer out a few words of Arabic to 
 ask my Way, laughed and jeered in their Impudent manner, and 
 flung handfuls of Dust at me. Just as I was losing all Patience, 
 and determined to Knock at the first door I came to, and make my 
 state known at all hazards, there came upon me at the corner of a 
 street the Figure of a Woman, Muffled up, as ’tis their fashion, in 
 her Hyke and Burnoose, so that I could only see her Eyes, which 
 
318 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 were smeared over with the usual Black Stuff, but which seemed 
 to have somewhat of a Yellowish Cast. I started, as if she were a 
 Ghost just risen from the ground; but indeed she had only just 
 stepped out from a little Garden-door, that now stood Ajar. From 
 the folds of her White Burnoose now came out a plump Hand, very 
 Glossy, but very Black. She first laid her Finger on that part of 
 her Hyke where her Mouth might be, to command me to Silence; 
 then touched me on the Arm; then pointed to a Latticed Window 
 high up in the wall, to give me to understand that some one had 
 been Watching me from there; and then beckoned me to Follow 
 her. I was wofully perplexed, and, thought I, “The Dey will 
 have no Cymbals to his Supper to night, that’s certain.” Still, it is 
 never to be said that J. D. ever shirked an adventure that promised 
 aught'of Love or Peril; and had it been into the jaws Df a Lion, I 
 must have followed the Negro Emissary. After all, 1 reasoned, I 
 was a proper-looking Fellow, although no longer in my First 
 Youth, and my hair beginning to Grizzle somewhat; but Love levels 
 ranks, as my Lord Grizzle has it in Tom Thumb; and I was, per¬ 
 haps, not the first Frank Slave who was favored by a beauteous 
 Moorish Lady. A Moorish Beauty! Why, this might be, after all, 
 a Princess, a Sultana, a Turkish Khanum! It turned out, how¬ 
 ever, far differently from what I had expected. Following the 
 Slave, we quitted the street and passed through a Porch, or Gate¬ 
 way, which the Negress carefully locked after her. We now en¬ 
 tered upon a Court, with Benches on either side, and paved very 
 handsomely with Marble, covered in the middle with a rich Turkey 
 Mat, and sheltered from the heat of the weather by a kind of Veil, 
 expanded by Ropes from one side of the Parapet-wall, or Lattice of 
 the Flat Roof, to the other. So into a little Cloister running round 
 this Court, and up a little winding stone Staircase into another 
 Cloister or Upper Gallery. Then at a Door all covered with rich 
 Filigree-work in Gold and Colors did the Negress knock; and by 
 and by a soft silvery Voice, of which the sound, somehow, made 
 me start and tremble much more than that of the Old Knight of 
 Malta had done, said a few words in Arabic, and we went in. 
 
 I found myself in a large square Apartment, with curious latticed 
 Windows, through which the Evening Sunlight came, in the pret¬ 
 tiest of patterns, and fell, like so many spangles disposed by an art¬ 
 ful Embroiderer, upon the rich Carpet. A great Divan, or Stuffed 
 Bench of Crimson Damask, ran all round the room, with many soft 
 pillows and shawls upon it; and on this Divan, upon the side op¬ 
 posite the door, sat an Eastern Lady, amazingly Dressed. She had 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 319 
 
 laid aside her Hyke, which was of white silk gorgeously striped 
 with gold and Crimson Bars, and all dotted with Bullion Tassels, 
 and sat in a tight-fitting jacket of Red Velvet, open in front, where 
 you could see the Bosom of her Snowy Smock all blazing with 
 Emeralds and Rubies. I had never seen so many of the latter kind 
 of Jewels since the days of my Grandmother, in her Cabinet of 
 Relics. Round her Waist was swathed a great Cashmerian Shawl, 
 very rich and noble, and with a heavy Fringe; and from among the 
 folds peeped out a little Poniard with a jeweled Hilt, and a knife 
 with a Gold and Mother-of-pearl Haft to cut her Victuals. She 
 wore loose Trousers or Drawers of a very fine spun Silk, covered 
 with a raised pattern in gold thread, that, as is the custom of the 
 Moorish Women, were fastened at the Knee, and then fell in quite 
 a torrent of Drapery down to her Ankles, nearly covering her pretty 
 Feet. A sweet Fashion, and very Modest. As to the Feet them¬ 
 selves—the smallest, sure, that mortal woman ever had—I could, 
 rapid as was my survey, see that she wore no Hose; but her tiny 
 Toes were thrust into Slippers or Papowshes of blue velvet, all 
 heightened and enriched with Gold Orris and Seed Pearls. On her 
 head was a dainty little cap, of the Fez Pattern, but of velvet in¬ 
 stead of cloth, jeweled; and from it hung a monstrous Tassel of 
 Gold, which reached half way down the Back. As for her Hair, 
 it hung very nearly down to the ground, being all collected into one 
 Lock, and bound and plaited with Ribbons; and being thus adorned, 
 were tied close together above the Lock, the several corners of a 
 Kerchief, made of thin flexible plates of Gold, cut through, and 
 engraved in imitation of Lace. In one hand she held a great Fan, 
 of Peacocks' 5 Feathers, with a Mirror in the midst, and a handle of 
 Gold, Emeralds, and Agate, that would have driven a Duke’s-Place 
 Jew crazy to look at; and in the other—well, you know that Orien¬ 
 tal Fashions are different from ours, and that the Paynim nations 
 have the strangest of Manners and Customs—I declare that, in the 
 other Hand—the dexter one—the Lady held the Tube of a Tobacco- 
 pipe, the which she was smoking with great Deliberation and ap¬ 
 parent Relish. But ’twas a very different Pipe to what we are in 
 the habit of seeing in England—having a Bowl of fine Red Clay 
 encrusted with Gems, a Iona: straight tube of Cherry-wood, and a 
 Mouth-piece of Amber studded with Precious Stones. This Pipe 
 they call a Chibook, and they smoke it much as we do our common 
 Clay things; but there’s another, which they call a Nargilly, like 
 the Hubble-bubble smoked by the proud Planters in the Dutch East 
 Indies. With the Nih’gilly, the Smoke passes first through Rose- 
 
320 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 water, to purify it; and after passing through many snake-like coils 
 of silk and wire tubing, the Smoker gulps it down bodily; so that 
 it goes into his Lungs, and must make them as sooty as a foul 
 Chimney. Many of the Turks are so handy at this nasty trick, that 
 they can make the Smoke they have swallowed come out at their 
 ears, eyes, and nostrils; but I envy them not such Mountebankery, 
 and when I smoke my Pipe, am content to Blow a Cloud in a 
 moderate and Christian manner. 
 
 I have kept you so long describing this Eastern Lady’s Dress, 
 that you must be growing impatient to know whether her Face 
 matched in handsomeness with her Apparel; but there was the 
 Deuce of it; for while I stood before her, staring and wondering 
 over her splendid Habiliments, I could catch ne’er a glimpse of 
 her Countenance, which was entirely concealed from view by the 
 Veil they call a Formah, which is made of a very fine gauzy stuff, 
 but painted in body-color in a pattern so as to make it Opaque, and 
 so artfully disposed as to hide the Face without shading any of the 
 splendor of the Dress. And though I could not make out so much 
 as the tip of (he Lady’s Nose, I had a queer sensation that she was 
 looking at me, nay, even that her eyes were twinkling in a merry 
 manner under her Veil. And so I remained Dumfounded, quite 
 uncertain as to the kind of Adventure that had befallen me. Had 
 some Moorish or Turkish Dame designed only to Divert herself at 
 the expense of a poor Christian Slave? or was the Veiled Lady 
 only some artful Adventuress of the Jewish, Armenian, or Coplitic 
 Nation, of whom there were many here, affecting great magnificence 
 in their Habits and Living? 
 
 Full Ten Minutes had the Lady so gazed upon me, I staring 
 stupidly at her, and the Negress continuing to enjoin me to silence 
 by putting her finger to her Lips. Then clapping her little hands 
 together (I mean that the Lady did, for the Black Woman’s were 
 sad Paws), in tumbles from a little door at the side of the Divan a 
 Negro Urchin about eight years of age, very richly clad, who at 
 her command brings Pipes and Coffee; and, signs being made to 
 me, I sat down on a couple of Pillows on the Ground, smoked a 
 Cliibook, emptied a Cup, not much bigger than an eggshell, of 
 Coffee—very Bitter and Nauseous here, for they give you the Dregs 
 as well as the Liquor—all the while staring at the Lady as though 
 my Eyeballs would have started out of my Head. And by this 
 time the Sun had quite gone down, and as there is but little Twi¬ 
 light in these parts, the Shade of Evening fell like a great black 
 Pall over the Room; so the little Black Urchin came tumbling in 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 321 
 
 again with a couple of Lamps, which he set clown before the Divan. 
 These cast a very soft and rosy Light, passing through folds of 
 Pink Silk; and as soon as my eyes grew accustomed to ’em, I could 
 see that the Lady had raised her Veil, that she was looking upon 
 me with a pair of Dark, Roguish, Twinkling Orbs, and that I was 
 sitting in the presence of my kind Protectress, Lilias. 
 
 “ What think you of this for an Opera Habit, goodman Cer¬ 
 berus?” cried she. “ Is this not much better than the Ballet of 
 Orpheus? And, goodness! what strange Accoutrement have you, 
 too, got into?” 
 
 When my first ecstasies of Joy and Amazement were over, I ex¬ 
 plained to my Dear Patroness the reasons (none of my own choos¬ 
 ing) for appearing in such a Garb as I then wore; telling her how 
 I had been Galley-Slave, and was now Cymbal-Player, to the. Un¬ 
 believing Dey of Algiers; and with great Humility did I ask after 
 her Honored Parent, and seek to know by what uncommon Acci¬ 
 dent she, the erst Ballet-Dancer in the King’s Opera-House at Paris, 
 had come to be the tenant of this Outlandish House, and arrayed 
 in this Heathen Habit. She answered me with that Candor and 
 Simplicity which I ever found characteristic of her. Old Mr. 
 Lovell was still alive, and in Paris; and this is how his Daughter 
 had become separated from him. A very brilliant Engagement, as 
 First Dancer, indeed, had been offered to her at the King’s Theater 
 at Palermo; and, after long unsuccessful importunities addressed 
 fO the Gentlemen of the French King’s Chamber to cancel her En¬ 
 gagement, these instances, owing to the untiring influence of Cardi¬ 
 nal de-, had succeeded, and she was allowed to depart. Full 
 
 willingly would she have taken her Papa with her as a Traveling- 
 Companion; but the Old Gentleman was now very Infirm, and 
 averse from Moving; and so Lilias was placed under the Guardian¬ 
 ship of an old Spanish Lady, the Senora Satisfacion de Mismar, 
 who was the Palermo Manager’s Aunt, made his engagements for 
 him abroad, and played the Duenna or Singing old Woman in his 
 Comedies and Operas at home. Nothing could be properer than 
 this arrangement, Donna Satisfacion being a personage of exceed¬ 
 ing Discretion and Propriety of Behavior; so the two, with half a 
 dozen more little Dancing-girls that had been hired to fill inferior 
 places, started for Bordeaux, whence they designed to take shipping 
 for Palermo. But by ill luck there was no Packet or Merchant 
 Vessel bound for Sicily to be taken up for a long time; and so they 
 were fain to travel to Toulon, avoiding Marseilles, where the Plague 
 then was very bad, and thence by way of Nizza lo Genoa, where 
 
322 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 they found a Brig bound for Messina, which they thought would 
 serve their turn. And, in truth, the poor souls found it but too 
 well served; for the Brig was captured off Bastia in Corsica by one 
 of these diabolical Barbary Rovers, all on board made Slaves, and 
 carried, not into Algiers, but into Sallee. There, after much suffer, 
 ing, poor Dona Satisfacion de Mismar died of a Distemper of the 
 country, and poor Lilias was left without any other Protector than 
 her own Virtue and a kind Providence. 
 
 ’Twas a terrible condition to be left in: Young, Fair, Friendless, 
 and a Slave among these Moorish Barbarians. By Heaven’s Mercy, 
 however, the dear Girl came to no Harm. 'Tis the custom, before 
 the Christian Women-captives are exposed for sale in the public 
 Slave-Market, where they are Handled and put through their paces 
 as though they were so many Cattle, for a Private Inspection of 
 ’em to be made by the rich Persons of the place, who come and 
 take Pipes and Coffee with the Merchant, glance over his Stock in 
 a respectful Manner, and often strike a Bargain there and then. 
 The Girls for sale are appareled in a sumptuous manner, bathed, 
 perfumed, and trinketed out for their Private View; and their Cap- 
 tors seek to render ’em docile by giving ’em plenty of Sweetmeats. 
 As if the intolerable pangs of Slavery were to be allayed by Lolli¬ 
 pops! It chanced that among the visitors to the Merchant’s House 
 was one Hamet Abdoollah, a very Learned Man, a Physician by 
 Trade, and equally trusted by the Bey of Tunis, the Dey of Algiers, 
 and him who reigned at Tripoli; but who would not devote himself 
 to the service of any of these Potentates, but, loving an independent 
 life served all with equal fidelity, sometimes even traveling so far 
 as the Capital of Morocco, where he was in high favor with the 
 Savage who calls himself Emperor of that country, which would 
 be as piratical as the Barbary States, only it has less Seaboard. 
 The father of this Physician had been quite as learned a Man as 
 he, and by the name of Muley Abdoollah had traveled much in 
 Western Europe, where by his Skill and Erudition he had gained 
 so much consideration among the Polite as to be elected a Corre¬ 
 spondent Member of the Royal Society of England and the Paris 
 Academy of Sciences. His son was one of the wisest and justest 
 and most merciful of his Species, as you will presently have cause 
 to admit. He was struck at once by the Beauty, Intelligence, and 
 Goodness of Lilias, and his humane heart recoiled at the thought of 
 what her fate might have been among a people given up to Cruelty 
 and Lust. He forthwith bought her of the Merchant at a fair price; 
 for although that crafty and rapacious Slave-Dealer would have 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 333 
 
 made him pay Through the Nose for his Treasure, knowing the 
 Physician to be a man of great Wealth, he forbore in very shame 
 from his extortion; for Hamet Abdoollah had but just saved his 
 little son out of a Fever, after he had been given up by all the 
 Ignorant Leeches of Sallee. 
 
 So Lilias became the Bond-servant, but only so in name, to this 
 Wise and Good Man. As her dearest wish was now to rejoin her 
 Father, he undertook to send her back to France, and with that 
 view did remove with his precious charge to Algiers, only exacting 
 from her a promise that while she remained under his protection 
 she would wear the Moorish Habit, and pass as his Wife, so as to 
 avoid Insult when she walked abroad. But of any thoughts of 
 Love and Intrigue the Good Man was entirely free He was wrapped 
 up in the study of the Healing Art, and troubled his head much 
 more about Drugs, Cataplasms, and Electuaries, than about the 
 Bow and Arrows of Dan Cupid. Though why the God of Love 
 should have been christened Daniel it puzzles me to comprehend. 
 This accounts for the manner in which I had found my dear Pro¬ 
 tectress caparisoned in every respect as a Moorish Dame. She told 
 me that this was by no means the first time she had seen me, and 
 that my being Cymbal-Player in the Dey’s Musicians was very well 
 known to her, and that her kind Guardian was on the point of peti¬ 
 tioning the Dey to release me from Servitude, when by accident she 
 espied me from the Window, and could not resist the temptation of 
 having me called in. 
 
 But, in her sweet regard for what was due to Modesty and 
 Decorum, she would have no Parley with me save in the presence 
 of the Black slave—’tis true that she did not understand a word of 
 English—and directly she had come to an end of her Narrative she 
 sent the Tumbling Urchin to inquire whether the Physician had 
 come home, the part of the House she occupied being quite separate 
 and distinct from his. The smutty little Imp comes back bringing 
 word that Hamet would wait upon her presently; and anon, after 
 discreetly tapping at the door, he came in, a grave, Reverend Man, 
 in a flowing Robe of Sad-colored Taffety and with a long White 
 Beard and Green Turban; for he had made the Mecca Pilgrimage, 
 and yet abstained from assuming the title of Hadji, to which he was 
 entitled. He spoke very good French, and even a little English 
 (learned from his Papa); and when I was made known to him, 
 asked for news of Dr. Mead and Sir Hans Sloane, although I could 
 tell him but little of that worthy and deceased Gentleman. 
 
 “ Happy is the Wooing that is not long a-Doing,” they say; and, 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEKOUS. 
 
 324 
 
 by this time, you will probably have discovered that I Loved Lilias 
 Lovell very dearly. ’Twas no Ramping, Rantipoling, Fiery-Furnace 
 kind of Calf Love on my part, but a matured and sensible admixture 
 of Gratitude and Sincere Affection. I scorn to conceal that although 
 I knew myself to be by Lineage worthy the hand of a Gentleman's 
 Daughter, * I was aware that, by the Meanness of the condition 
 under which I was first known to the Lovell Family, a Gulf yawned 
 between their Estate and mine; and that, warm and devoted as was 
 my Love for the Pretty Little Creature I had saved from Ihe 
 Flames, I could but deem that she reckoned the Humane Dog Cer¬ 
 berus of the Opera Ballet as of no greater account than a real Dog¬ 
 gish Mastiff. But, to my extreme Amazement and Felicity, this 
 was not so. I was believed by this Amiable Young Person, to whom 
 Embassadors were proud to go on their knees, and whom Gentle¬ 
 men of the Chamber would have covered with Diamonds. With a 
 charming frankness, blushing and stammering, yet with Virginal 
 Pride, she confessed that she was enamored of me, and, if Fortune 
 were propitious, would gladly be my Wife. I could at first scarcely 
 realize the possibility of such great and unmerited Happiness; for 
 well did 1 know the disparity in Age that existed between us—how 
 Rough and Weather-beaten was I; and she, how Tender, Delicate, 
 and Good! “ But does not the Ivy twine round the Oak?” quoth 
 the Physician, as he smote me cheerfully on the Shoulder. And be¬ 
 hold, now, gnarled and battered old Jack Dangerous, with this 
 delicious little Parasite creeping toward and Nestling Round him. 
 
 CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH AND LAST. 
 
 OF MY SERVICE UNDER THE GREAT TURK AS A BASHAW; OF MY 
 ADVENTURES IN RUSSIA AND OTHER COUNTRIES; AND OF MY 
 COMING HOME AT LAST AND BUYING MY GRANDMOTHER’S 
 HOUSE (WHICH IS NOW MINE) IN HANOVER SQUARE. 
 
 ’Twas the advice of the Good Physician, that, to prevent Acci¬ 
 dents, we should be Married without Delay; for in these hot coun¬ 
 tries you are here to-day and gone to-morrow, and no one can tell 
 what may happen. Difficulties almost insurmountable, ’tis true, 
 seemed to stand in the way of our Union; but Hamet Abdoollah 
 
 * I preserve a fragment of what His Eminence was pleased once upon a time 
 to write to me, in his curious Italian way of spelling the French tongue: “ Se 
 cieu che vous m'avez diet sur vostre Naissctnce e way, vos esteo digne di 
 monter dedans le carozze du Roy 
 
CAPTAIN" DANGEROUS. 
 
 325 
 
 was able to act almost a Magician’s part to bring about our Happi¬ 
 ness. I was for the time being bestowed in his House, and the next 
 morning the Physician hies him to the Dey, who was in a Fury 
 about me, and was threatening all kinds of Bowstrings and Basti¬ 
 nadoes. But his Highness happening likewise to be sutfering from 
 Toothache, and as a Man with a Raging Tooth would give all the 
 Treasures of Potosi to be quit of his Agony, the Physician promised 
 to Relieve him forthwith if he would grant his Suit. The Dey 
 promised him anything he could wish for, and so Hamet Abdoollah 
 cures him with a little vial full of nothing but Tar Balsam. ’Tis 
 but just to the Mussulmans to say, that when they have once given 
 their Word of Honor they keep it with Extreme Rigor; so that 
 when the Physician begged pardon for me, and License to purchase 
 me out of the Dey’s service and take me into his own, the Suit was 
 very cheerfully granted. Joyfully Hamet Abdoollah repairs to us 
 again, with a Firman under the Dey’s own Signet granting me 
 my Liberty; and that very forenoon my silver Collar, Anklets, and 
 Manacles were stricken off—the Physician returning them to the 
 Dey’s Treasury—and I was no longer a Slave. 
 
 Although there is no Man alive who mislikes Popery and its 
 Superstitious Practices more than does J. D., there is one order of 
 Huns and one of Monks for whose members I entertain a profound 
 Love and Reverence. Of She-Religious, I mean those Blessed 
 Sisters of Charity who go about the World doing good, brav- 
 ing sickness, succoring misery, assuaging hunger, drying up 
 Tears, and smiling in the Face of Death. God bless those Holy 
 Women, say I, wheresoever they are to be found! and in our own 
 Protestant country of England, why should we not have similar 
 Sisterhoods of Women of Mercy, or Deaconesses, bound by n) 
 rigid vows, and suffering no ridiculous Penances of Stripes and 
 Macerations, but obeying only the call of Religious Charity, and 
 going Quietly and Trustfully about their Master’s Business? Of 
 He-Monks, I mean the Fathers of the Work of Redemption, or 
 Redemptorists, whose sole business it is to travel about Begging 
 and Praying of the Rich for money to Ransom poor Christian 
 bodies out of Slavery; which is a better work, I think, than pray¬ 
 ing for the deliverance of their Souls out of Purgatory. These 
 Redemptorist Fathers have a permanent Station and - Correspon¬ 
 dence at all the Piratical Ports of the Barbary Coast; and at stated 
 times, when they have gathered enough Money to redeem a certain 
 number of Christians, a body of the Fraternity visit the Station, 
 take away their Sanctified Merchandise, and by their Humble an tl 
 
326 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 Devout Carriage, and exemplary Poverty of Life, extort admiration 
 even from the Blood-thirsty Heathens. 
 
 Now, at Algiers, about this time, there was suffered to dwell an 
 old Religious of this Order, Le Pere Lefanu—who for his Virtues 
 and Piety was esteemed even by the Mussulman Ulemas, and was 
 thought a good deal more of than any of their Marabutts or San- 
 tons, which is a name they give to a kind of wandering Idiots, 
 who, the Crazier they are, are thought the more deserving of Super¬ 
 stitious Veneration. Pere Lefanu was nearly ninety years of age, 
 and had dwelt among these Barbarians for full sixty years of his 
 Life, passing his time in Meditation, Prayer, and the Visitation of 
 the Sick and Needy, both among the Unbelievers and the Christian 
 Slaves, and at the same time transacting all necessary business with 
 the Dey’s Head-men for periodically redeeming those that were in 
 Bondage. Our good Physician had a profound esteem for this 
 Reverend Person, and often visited lnm; and now it was through 
 . his Ministry that Lilias and I were to be made One. I had for¬ 
 gotten to say, that my departed Saint was of the Communion opposite 
 to mine; but in a land of Pagans ’tis as w r ell to forget all differences 
 between Papists and Protestants, and to remember only that we are 
 Christians. Pere Lefanu had been ordained a Secular Priest before 
 he had become a Regular Monk, and he told me that if I had any 
 Conscientious Scruples as to the Husband being a Protestant and 
 the Wife of another way of Thinking, I could have the marriage 
 done over again in whatever way I thought proper on our return lo 
 Europe. But I was in far too great a Hurry to be Married to look 
 too narrowly which way the Cat jumped; and a Romish Wedding 
 is surely better than jumping over a Broomstick, which, unless we 
 had adopted the uncouth Moresque custom, would have been all 
 the Ceremony of Matrimony we could have had. So Pere Lefanu 
 came privately, to avoid Gossip, to the Physician’s House, and 
 Lilias Lovell and John Dangerous were made One in the French 
 Language, the contracting parties being English, the Bridegroom's 
 best man a tawny Mohammedan Moor, and the only Bridesmaid a 
 Black Negress. 
 
 Our Honey-moon (we continuing to dwell in the House of the 
 good Hamet Abdoollah) was one of unmixed Joy and Gladness; 
 but ’twas too complete to last long, and soon came a black Storm 
 to lash into fury the calm surface of our Life’s Lake. Seized with 
 a Malignant Distemper, and after but three days’ Sickness, the 
 good Hamet Abdoollah died. His Pillow was smoothed by our 
 reverent hands, and with his dying breath he blessed us. I know 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 327 
 
 not if there be any Saints in the Mussulman Church; but if ever a 
 man deserved Canonization from whatsoever Communion he be¬ 
 longed to, I am sure it was Hamet Abdoollah, the Moorish Phy¬ 
 sician. 
 
 His Skill in Medicine had brought him great Wealth, of which, 
 although he was always distributing Alms to the Poor, he left a 
 considerable Portion behind him. In his last moments he sent for 
 the Cadi and Ulema of his quarter, for his will to be made, or at 
 least to assure them by word of mouth of his Testamentary Inten¬ 
 tions, which among this People w r ould have been as religiously car¬ 
 ried out as though he had written them. But, alas! when the Cadi 
 and the Ulema arrived, he was speechless, and died without word 
 or sign of his Wishes. 
 
 His Relations came forthwith to administer to his Effects, and (if 
 truth lie not unpalatable to English Heirs, that often do the same 
 thing) to fight and squabble over the administration thereof. A 
 pretty Noise and Riot they made: now weeping and howling over 
 the Corse; now bursting open Trunks, wrenching Trinkets from 
 each other, striving to convey away Garments and Furniture, and 
 even tearing down the hangings of Rich Stuff. Only the Harem, 
 where my one True Wife was, remained inviolate from # these 
 Harpies; but me they overwhelmed with the most injurious Invec¬ 
 tives and accosted by the foulest epithets, calling me Infidel, Pig, 
 Giaour Dog, Frankish Thief, and the like, telling me that I had 
 fattened long enough on the Substance of a True Believer, with the 
 like opprobrious speeches. I let them have their way, only giving 
 them to understand that the first Man who should attempt to cross 
 the Threshold of my Harem, it were better for him that lie never 
 had been Born. 
 
 Soon, however, came a greater Heir at Law than any of these, to 
 take possession of the Dead Man’s heritage. The news of Hamet 
 Abdoollali’s decease had come to the ears of the Dey; and straight¬ 
 way he sends down a strong guard of Coglolies to Seize all in his 
 Name, specially enjoining the Bullock-Bashee in command to put 
 the big Christian Slave (meaning myself) in Fetters, and equally 
 secure, although with lighter Bonds, the fair Frankish Woman, 
 meaning my dear Wife Lilias. All this was no sooner said than 
 done. The Rough Soldiers burst into the House, and, to prevent 
 any misunderstanding about me, a Cloth (for which I was quite un¬ 
 prepared) was thrown over my head from Behind; and while I was 
 yet struggling to free myself from this blinding Incumbrance, the 
 Gyves were passed over my Wrists and Ankles. And then they re- 
 
328 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 moved the Cloth, and, laden with heavy Chains, 1 had to behold in 
 Despair their Invading the Sanctity of my Harem, and teaiing 
 therefrom my Lilias. In vain did I Shout, Threaten, Grind my 
 Teeth, Implore, Promise, and strive to Tear my Hair. They only 
 Laughed; and one Brutish Coglolie made as though to strike me 
 with the flat of his Saber, when I out with my foot, all fettered as it 
 was, and gave the Ruffian a blow on the Jaw, the which, by the 
 momentum given by the Iron, I thought had stove it in. This much 
 infuriated his Savage Companions; and I doubt not but that they 
 would have finished me, but the Bullock-Bashse, who had orders to 
 the contrary, constrained them to stay their hand. 
 
 What became of my dear Lilias, I was not allowed to know. She 
 was borne away, shrieking and calling on me, with streaming Eyes, 
 for help; and I saw her no more. Myself they dragged down-stairs; 
 and when we were come into the street, flung me, fettered as I was, 
 over the back of an Artillery Horse, where I lay, face downward, 
 and in a kind of stupor, as listless as a Miller’s Sack; and so, my 
 Gyves jingling and clattering, I was conveyed away. 
 
 The cruel and remorseless Dey of Algiers I saw no more. Some 
 spark of shame there might perchance be in the Ruffian’s Breast 
 that forbade him to gaze upon the man he had pardoned and en¬ 
 franchised, and had now traitorously Kidnapped. I suppose that 
 in the Thieves’ philosophy of this Fellow he reasoned that, if 
 promises are to be kept to Live Men, there is no need to keep them 
 unto Dead ones; that he was released from all his obligations by the 
 demise of Hamet Abdoollah; and that, as the Physician could not 
 cure him of the Toothache again, if he chanced to get it, ’twas idle 
 to continue bestowing Favors where no Benefits could be derived. 
 
 Into a wretched Dungeon of the Arsenal was poor J. Dangerous 
 thrust, with naught for victuals but Musty Beans and Stinking 
 Water. When I had been here, groaning and gnashing my teeth, 
 for seven days—which seemed to me thrice seven years—a Rascally 
 Fellow that I knew to be a Scribe belonging to the Divan of the 
 Dey comes into my Dungeon to tell me that the Packet-ship has 
 come in from Marseilles, and that in answer lo my letter to Mon¬ 
 sieur Foscue, that Merchant sends word that he knows nothing at 
 all about me; to which the Rascally Scribe adds, in the Lingua 
 Franca, that I was no doubt an Impostor who had trumped up a 
 convenient Fable of my being a Gentleman and having Correspond¬ 
 ents who would be Answerable for my Ransom in Europe, in order 
 to get better food and treatment until the real truth could be known. 
 Whereupon he tells me that his Highness the Dey had not yet quite 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 329 
 
 made up his mind as to whether he shall have me Impaled or merely 
 Flayed Alive, and so slams the door in my face. 
 
 In this Horrible Dungeon did I continue for seven days more, 
 mostly groveling on the ground, my face downward, and praying 
 for Deliverance or Death. I had a mind to dash my Brains out 
 against the slimy walls of the Cell, but was only stayed by the 
 thought of my Lilias. ’Twas always night in this abominable Hole, 
 which was lighted only by a hole in the roof, about four inches 
 square, and which gave not into the open air but into a Corridor 
 above. But on the fifteenth night of my Captivity, for I judged it 
 so by the utter darkness, the door of the Dungeon opened, and the 
 Blessed Old Man that was a Redemptorist Father appeared, bearing; 
 a Lantern. 
 
 “You have that about you, my son, ’ ’ says he, ‘ ‘ which should be 
 a sign that you are a trusted Agent of Holy Mother Church. Can 
 you show it?” 
 
 I pointed with one of my fettered hands to my Breast, and made 
 signs for him to search for that he was in quest of. The which he 
 did, and after reverently kissing the Parchment I had between the 
 Glasses, restored it to me. 
 
 “ You have been most basely entreated,” he continued. “ Mon¬ 
 sieur Foscue sent ample funds for your Ransom, and his Eminence 
 is most anxious for your safety; but the cruel Moorish Prince who 
 governs this unhappy city, after taking the money, feigned that 
 you had made your Escape from the Arsenal, designing to keep you 
 here in Chains and Hunger until you should Perish.” 
 
 He paused for a moment, for his Great Age made him very feeble, 
 and then continued: 
 
 ‘ ‘ I can deliver you from this Abode of Misery; but it is not in my 
 power, my son, to give you entire Deliverance. Would that I 
 could! You have but to follow me to the Quay-side, where you 
 will find a boat to convey you on board a Turkey Merchant-ship, 
 that to-morrow morning weighs anchor for Constantinople. You 
 will still be a Slave to the Captain, but to your own ingenuity I 
 leave it to obtain complete Freedom.” 
 
 “ And my Wife—my dear, dear Lilias?” I asked. 
 
 The Ancient Man shook his head. 
 
 “ I can do nothing to bring you together again. She can not fol¬ 
 low you to Stamboul; but by Perseverance, and in Time, you 
 may be restored to her.” 
 
 “ Time!” I cried out, in bitter desperation. “ Time! O Father! 
 I am growing an old man. She is the stay and prop of my Life; she 
 
330 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 is the only ray of sunshine cast on a Black and Wicked Career! 
 And she is taken from me by these Butchers! and I am to sec her 
 no more? What care I for Hunger and Chains, and a Dungeon- 
 floor for a Pallet? They have been familiar to me from my earliest 
 youth. If I am not to have my Lilias’s sweet companionship again, 
 I will remain here, in this Hole, and die like a Dog, as I am.” 
 
 “ Take comfort, my son,” said the Redemptorist Monk. “ Time 
 and Perseverance may, I repeat, enable you to attain your heart’s 
 desire. Meanwhile, console yourself with the assurance that the 
 Pair and Good Woman, who is your Wife, is out of peril from law¬ 
 less men. By the same Packet-ship that brought the Letters from 
 Monsieur Foscue came a Sum sufficient Doubly to Ransom the 
 Young Woman. The benignant protection of his Eminence has 
 been extended to her, and she will in a few days return to France, 
 and to her Father.” 
 
 “ But can I not see her?—can not I touch her Hand?—can I not 
 press her Lip?—for one brief moment, and for the last time?” 
 
 “ It is impossible,” answered the Monk. “ She is watched both 
 Day and Night, by zealousagents of the Dey, and I have no means of 
 access to her. ’Twould be death both to you and to myself were I 
 to seek to bring about a meeting between you. Even now the pre¬ 
 cious moments are wasting away. In another hour the Guard will 
 be changed, and your Escape impossible.” 
 
 “And how is it possible now?” I asked. “ And will no one 
 come to Hurt through my evasion?” 
 
 “It is possible,” lie repeated. “You have to walk but from 
 hence to the Outer Gate and the Quay-side. Immediately you have 
 departed, the Body of a poor Christian Slave, of your age and 
 stature, who died this morning at the Arsenal, will be conveyed 
 here, and garnished with your Chains. The Dey will be told that 
 you have died in Prison. He loves not to look upon the faces of 
 those he has murdered, and will take the word of the Aga, who is 
 in our pay. Come! there is not an instant to be lost. Here is the 
 key to your Fetters. Unlock them, and follow me.” 
 
 With a heart that was now elated with the prospect of Deliver- 
 ance, and now sunk at the thought that I was still to be separated 
 from my Lilias, I did as the good Redemptorist bade me, and, cast¬ 
 ing my accursed Shackles from me in a heap, limped slowly forth 
 —for the Iron had wofully galled me. Outside the Dungeon-door 
 stood a couple of Coglolies, with their Turban-cloths let down over 
 their faces to serve as Masks, who swiftly unlocked what Doors 
 remained between us and the Sea Rampart. The Monk pressed my 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 331 
 
 Hand, gave me his Blessing, bidding me hope for Better Times, and 
 disappeared. Guided by the Coglolies, and, indeed, half supported 
 by them, I was put into a Boat waiting at the Quay-side, as the 
 Monk had told me, and ten minutes’ hard pulling brought us along¬ 
 side a large craft, on board which, I being so weak, they were fain 
 to hoist me with Hopes. By this time I had sunk into a kind of 
 Lethargy, and, being conveyed below and put into a cot in the Mas¬ 
 ter’s Cabin, fell into a slumber, which lasted for very many hours. 
 
 The Captain of this ship was an English’Renegado, named Sparken 
 hoe. He had served as Midshipman and Master’s Mate in a King’s 
 ship; but having been, as he conceived, unjustly Broken for hot words 
 that passed between him and the Captain—this took place at Gibral¬ 
 tar—had deserted, and hid himself on board a Merchant Brig bound 
 for Tangier. At last, being fond of a Roving Life (and having the 
 misfortune to kill the Captain of the Merchant Brig in a dispute 
 concerning some Bullocks they were shipping), he had turned Mus¬ 
 sulman; and after living some time among the Buccaneers of the 
 Riff, had come to Algiers, and been made Captain of a Merchant¬ 
 man trading to the Dardanelles, and doing a bit of Piracy when 
 opportunity served. ’Twas full five-and-t,vventy years since he had 
 Run from the King of Great Britain’s service; and although his 
 Blue Eyes and enormous Red Whiskers still gave him somewhat of 
 a Saxon appearance, he had very nearly forgotten his Mother 
 Tongue, and only retained English enough to enable him to mingle 
 a few Billingsgate Oaths with his barbarous Levantine Lingo. 
 
 This fellow, whom I heartily despised, for he had kept all the 
 Vices of his former Religion, and had acquired none of the Virtues 
 of his new one, was civil enough to me, and informed me that all 
 he could do for me, in return for the Bribe he had received from 
 his Employers, would be to deliver me to a Slave Merchant at Con¬ 
 stantinople, who would place me out in Domestic Service where I 
 should not be ill-treated. But he very strongly advised me to turn 
 Turk or Renegado, as he himself was, saying, that in such a case 
 he would land me perfectly free at the Porte, where I should doubt¬ 
 less find some profitable Employment. This I scornfully refused; 
 whereupon he shrugged his Shoulders, and said that I was a Fool, 
 but might possibly think Better of it, in Time. 
 
 After three weeks’ coasting among the Isles of the Grecian Archi¬ 
 pelago, and so into the Sea of Marmora, we steered into the Bosphorus 
 ’twixt the Castles of Europe and Asia; and the same night the 
 Slave-Dealer comes off in a private Caique—as the Turks call their 
 Canoes—and the Renegado delivered me up to him. I was taken 
 
332 
 
 CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 to his House at Galata, where I was kept very close for two or three 
 weeks, and was then sold to a Merchant of Damascus in Asia, that 
 had come to Constantinople with the Autumn Caravans, to dispose 
 of his cargo of Silk and Attar of Roses—very fine and subtle Per¬ 
 fume, one drop of which is sufficient to scent an entire House. 
 
 ’Ttvas in the autumn of the year 1759 that I so came to Damas¬ 
 cus, and for ten years did I remain in that city—all the time with¬ 
 out hearing one word from my dear Wife. Had I been in the 
 Capital, where Foreign Ambassadors reside, I could not, as a 
 Christian, be detained in Slavery; that being guarded against by 
 Treaties between the Crown of Great Britain and the Sublime Porte. 
 But in this remote part of the Empire, these and many other worse 
 enormities were possible; and I remained as one Dead and Buried. 
 To a few English and French Travelers passing through Damascus 
 did I tell my piteous Tale, and entreat their help; but the account 
 that I gave of myself was so rambling and confused, and contained, 
 I could but confess it, so many Incredible Particulars, that I could 
 plainly see no one believed my Tale, or accounted me as aught but 
 a half-mad Fellow that had run away for some misdeed from a Ship 
 in port on the Coast of Syria, and was now trying to cadge Sym¬ 
 pathy for a Pretended Grievance. At last I gave up complaining. 
 Slowly, but surely, my memory of my former life began to Decay, 
 and even the knowledge of mine own Language faded away, and 
 became weaker and weaker every day. I dressed, I eat, I drunk, 
 I slept in the Eastern Fashion, and in all but religion I was a Turk. 
 
 Meanwhile I had gained in the favor of my Master. He was 
 about mine own age when he purchased me, and we grew old To¬ 
 gether. At first I was employed as a mere Menial, in carrying of 
 Bales and Packages, and tending of Camels; but by degrees I was 
 promoted to be his Warehouseman, Clerk, Cashkeeper, and at last 
 his Partner. In that capacity he sent me to manage a large silk- 
 plantation of his in the Lebanon; and after two years of that work 
 I left him with a fortune of no less than five hundred Purses of 
 Gold (about £20,000 of our Money), to set up on my own account 
 in the City of Broussa. He made no attempt (nor had he at any 
 time done so) to combat my Religious Scruples, but counseled me 
 to behave in all things outwardly as a Turk; and if anything was 
 said of my being in countenance a Frank (though I was swarthy 
 enough from my Long Journeyings), to account for it by saying 
 that I was an Affghan, born out of India. He died very soon after 
 I settled at Broussa, and the secret of my being a Christian died 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 333 
 
 with him. It is true that, for mere Policy’s sake, I did go through 
 the Mummeries of outward Mohammedans, and had my Rosary and 
 my Prayer-carpet like other Merchants of Broussa; but I scornfully 
 deny that I was initiated, or submitted to, any Heathenish Rites; 
 and I am ready to maintain now, Cut, Thrust, or Backsword, that 
 I was then as stanch and leal a Protestant as I am now. 
 
 Under the name of Gholab Hassan, of Affghanistan, and a True 
 Believer, I prospered exceedingly, almost entirely forgetting my 
 own country. ’Tis true I always preserved an affectionate remem¬ 
 brance of my dear Wife Lilias; but she seemed to me in the guise 
 of some Departed Angel, whom I had been privileged to behold but 
 for a Short and Transient Period. Among these Pagans, as is well 
 known, Polygamy is permitted; but that is neither here nor there; 
 and I was now an Old, Old Man. 
 
 ’Tis ten years since, namely a.d. 1770, that a great Insurrection 
 against the Authority of the Porte, or rather of the Bashaw of the 
 Province, who had been laying on the Taxes with somewhat too 
 heavy a hand, broke out in Broussa. The infuriate Populace 
 burned the House of the Bashaw about his ears, plundered the 
 Bazaar, and were proceeding to further extremities, when, a puff of 
 my old Martial Spirit reviving within me, I collected a trusty band 
 of Porters and Camel-drivers, rallied the Turkish Troops, who were 
 flying in all directions, reformed them, scattered the Insurgent 
 Mobile, and did (I promise you) speedy execution on some Scores 
 of them. The Insurrection was very speedily subdued, and all 
 Broussa was filled with the praises of my Valor and Discretion. The 
 Bashaw was a poor Good-natured kind of Creature, Brave enough, 
 but so Fat that when he mounted on Horseback they were obliged 
 to put one of the Pillows of his Divan on the pummel of his saddle 
 to keep his Stomach steady. An' end, however, was put to the 
 discomfort he suffered through Corpulence, by the arrival, three 
 weeks after the suppression of the Insurrection, of a Tartar Courier, 
 who brought with him a Bowstring and a Firman from the Grand 
 Seignor. By means of the Bowstring, the Fat Bashaw was then 
 and there strangled—for they do things in a very off-hand manner 
 in Turkey—and when the Firman was opened by his Vizier it was 
 found to contain, not his own nomination to the Bashawlik, which 
 he fondly expected, but the appointment of the Merchant Gholab 
 Hassan, that is to say, John Dangerous, that is to say, your Hum¬ 
 ble Servant, to the vacant Post, and commanding my immediate 
 attendance at the Porte to receive investiture with the Three Horse¬ 
 tails of Office. 
 
334 
 
 CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 I was at once saluted as Gholab Bashaw, and the next day set 
 forth amidst great Acclamations, and in sumptuous state, for Con¬ 
 stantinople. Arrived there, I was handsomely lodged in a Palace 
 close to the Old Seraglio, and admitted to no less than three solemn 
 Audiences with the Commander of the Faithful, the Caliph A1 
 Islam, the Padishaw of Roum, the Great Turk himself. 
 
 1 could not help smiling at myself, now arrayed in all the pomp 
 and glory of an Exalted Functionary, and in the true Turkish 
 fashion. ’Tis a custom (through Ignorance of those parts) with the 
 Limners of Europe to portray all Osmanlis with long Beards; and. 
 for truth, as a Merchant at Broussa, I have a great grizzled one of 
 most Goatish appearance; but among the Bashaws and all those en 
 gaged in the Military Service of the Grand Seignor, or holding high 
 Employments in the Seraglio, they wear only a fierce and martial 
 pair of Whiskers. The most distinguishing sign of a true Mussul¬ 
 man is, after all, his Sarik or Turban, made in two parts, namely 
 a Bonnet, and the Linen that is wrapped round it. The former, a 
 kind of Cap, red or green, without Brims, and quilted with Cotton. 
 About this they roll several folds of Linen Cloth; and it is a partic¬ 
 ular art to know how to give a Turban a good air; it being a trade 
 with ’em as the Selling of Hats is with us. The Emirs, who boast 
 of being descended from the race of Mohammed, wear a turban all 
 green; but that of the common Turks is red, with a white border, 
 so distinguishing them from the Christians. Next I wore great 
 long Breeches of a ’broidered stuff, and a Shirt of fine soft calico, 
 with wide Sleeves, but no Wristbands or Collar; and over this a 
 Cassock or Vest of fine English Cloth, reaching to the ankles, and 
 buttoned with buttons of gold, about the bigness of a peppercorn. 
 This was tied with a broad Sash or Girdle, which went thrice round 
 the waist, with the ends hanging down before, and two handsome 
 Tassels. Over all this another Garment, richly laced, and lined 
 with Furs of the Martin or the Badger. In my Girdle a Dagger, 
 about the size of a case-knife, the handle curiously wrought, and 
 adorned with Precious Stones. And as the Turkish tailors make no 
 pockets to their vestments, Purse, Handkerchief, Tobacco-box, and 
 things of that nature must needs be put into the Bosom, or thrust 
 under the Girdle. Instead of Shoes, a pair of Slippers of yellow 
 leather; which, whenever you enter a Mosque or the presence of a 
 Superior, you must put off on the threshold. This custom makes 
 the soles of a Turk’s feet always ready for the application of the 
 Talack, or Bastinado, from which argument neither high nor low 
 are exempt. 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 335 
 
 Item .—The Women here very richly dressed, but sad Gossips, 
 and a Lazy, Lolloping kind of creatures; which they must needs 
 be, poor souls, seeing that they have no sort of Education, and are 
 kept mostly in seclusion, talking of scandal, sucking of sugar-plums, 
 showing their brave apparel to each other, and thrumming upon 
 the Mandolin. A galloping, dreary, dull place indeed is a Turkish 
 Harem. As to the qualities of the mind, the Turkish women want 
 neither Wit, Good Sense, nor Tenderness; but the constraint that is 
 put upon ’em, and the jealous eye with which they are guarded, 
 makes ’em go a great way in a little time, and make an ill use of 
 the Liberty which is sometimes granted them. The old womeii- 
 slaves of the Armenian and Jew Merchants, who are the contidantes 
 of the Turkish women, enter their apartments at all hours, under 
 the pretense of bringing them Jewels, and often favor their Amours 
 with brisk young fellows. The usual hour for intrigue is the hour 
 of morning and evening Prayers, when the Husbands are away at 
 the Mosques. In case of Discovery the Turks are masters of the 
 Lives of their Wives; and if they have been convicted in form, they 
 are sewn up in Sacks, and thrown into the Sea. And even if a 
 Guilty Woman’s life is spared, she is condemned to marry her Gal¬ 
 lant, who is sentenced to die, or must turn Mohammedan, supposing 
 him to be a Christian. The least punishment for a man who has 
 broken the Seventh Commandment is to ride through the streets upon 
 an Ass, with his face toward the Tail, to receive a certain number 
 of Bit ws upon the Soles of his Feet, and to pay a Fine in propor¬ 
 tion to his Estate. 
 
 But though a duly invested Bashaw of Three Tails, I was not 
 fated to remain long in that Capacity. For once, however, my 
 Destiny, in subjecting me to Change, played me a kind instead of a 
 spiteful Turn. Going to visit the French Embassador, who was 
 then in high favor at the Porte, I found there, living under the 
 protection ©f his Family, a Lady, who was no other than my dear 
 Wife Lilias, and with her a Daughter, called after her own name, 
 who was now twelve years of age. Her History, as she related it 
 to me, was brief, but amazing. Both her Father and the Cardinal 
 died about two years after her return from Captivity; but she found 
 a new guardian in my old friend Captain Night, or Don Ercolo 
 Sparafucile di San Lorenzo, the Knight of Malta, who had retired 
 from that Island to end his days in France. She was enabled to 
 cheer the declining years of that Gallant Gentleman, who had pre¬ 
 served a lively remembrance of his old Protege, Jack Dangerous; 
 and when he died, left her the whole of his large fortune. All 
 
CAPTAIN DANGEROUS. 
 
 these years she had remained in a dreadful state of uncertainty, till 
 through the kind offices of the French Minister of Police, she was 
 made acquainted with the last Dying avowal of a Pirate Renegado, 
 named Sparkenhoe, who had expired at the Galleys of Marseilles, 
 and stated that, in the year 1759, he had conveyed a refugee Chris¬ 
 tian Slave from Algiers to Constantinople, where he had been sold 
 to a Merchant of Damascus. In the almost desperate hope of dis¬ 
 covering some Tidings of me, my Wife and Child had journeyed to 
 the Porte, where they were most kindly received at the French 
 Embassy. They had given up almost every prospect of meeting me 
 again, when I made my sudden appearance in the strange Guise of 
 a Turkish Bashaw. 
 
 Under ordinary Circumstances, it might have gone hard with me; 
 for the Turks reckon it as an unpardonable crime for a Christian to 
 assume the Mussulman Garb, and conform outwardly to that re¬ 
 ligion, without having gone through the Proper Rites. However, 
 as I have said, the French Embassador was just then in high favor 
 with the Porte. He made interest with the Captain Bashaw, the 
 Kislar Aga, and the Grand Vizier himself. The Services I had 
 rendered to the Great Turk by suppressing the Insurrection at 
 Broussa were taken into consideration ; and it was at length agreed, 
 that; if I would convey myself away privately, and take my Wife 
 with me, no more should be said about the matter. It was given 
 out at Broussa that I had been appointed to another and more dis¬ 
 tant Government; and he who had been Vizier to the unlucky Fat 
 Man got his much-coveted Preferment, and I have no doubt, was 
 very happy in it, till the inevil able Tartar came, and he was Bow- 
 strung, like his predecessor. So Gholab Bashaw resigned the 
 Three Horse-tails that during so brief a period had waved at his 
 Flagstaff, and became once more plain John Dangerous. The 
 Sublime Porte, however, confiscated all my Property at Broussa, 
 including my Wives—I mean, my Women Servants. 
 
 With my Wife and Child I now returned to Europe, full of Years, 
 and, I hope, notwithstanding some Ups and Downs, full of Honors 
 too. We were in no hurry, however, to return to England; for I 
 had wandered about Foreign Parts so long in Discredit, and Dan¬ 
 ger, and Distress, that I thought myself well entitled to see the 
 world a little in Freedom and Independence, and with a Handsome 
 competence at my Back. Therefore, as the Chevalier Captain John 
 Dangerous—I have dropped my Knightly rank of late years—and 
 furnished with all necessary passports and safe-conducts, we made 
 our way across the Black Sea to Odessa, a mean kind of place, but 
 
CAPTAIN - DANGEROUS. 
 
 337 
 
 rising in the way of trade; and after a most affable reception by the 
 Russian Governor of that place, journey at our ease through the 
 Tauric Chersonese, now wrested from the Tartar Khans of Sim- 
 pheropol, and belonging to the Muscovites. Next, in a handsome 
 wheeled carriage-and-four, we made for the great City of Moscow— 
 the old Capital of the Great Dukes of Russia—where we abode two 
 whole years, and went among the very best people in the place; al¬ 
 though I had an ugly Equivoque with a young Gentleman of Qual¬ 
 ity that was an officer of Dragoons, and who, I declare, stole a 
 diamond-mounted Snuff-box of mine off my wife’s Harpsichord, 
 putting the same (the Snuff-box, I mean) into the pocket of his 
 pantaloons. Him I was compelled to expel from my house, the 
 Toe of my Boot aiding; and meeting him subsequently at a Coffee- 
 House, and he no.t seeming sufficiently impressed with the turpitude 
 of his Offense, but the rather inclined to regard it as a venial Prank 
 or Whimsey, I did Batoon him within an inch of his life, and until 
 there were more wheals on his Body than bars of silver-braid on 
 his Jacket. This led to a serious misunderstanding between Justice 
 and myself. I was not Imprisoned, but was summoned no less than 
 fifty-seven times before a kind of Judge they call an Assessor, who 
 addressed a number of interrogatories to me, which, at a moderate 
 computation, reached, in the course of five weeks, three thousand 
 seven hundred and nine questions. This might have gone on till 
 Doomsday, but for the kind offices of a Muscovite friend, who 
 hinted to me that if I discreetly slipped a Bank-bill for five hundred 
 roubles into the hand of the Examining Judge, I should hear no 
 more of the affair. This I did, and was soon after honorably ac¬ 
 quitted; after which I gave the young Spark whom I had batooned 
 his revenge, by allowing him to doff me out of a few score 
 pieces at the game of Lansquenet. By and by, being tired of Mos¬ 
 cow, we removed to the stately northern Capital, Petersburg, where 
 I had a handsome mansion on the Fintanka Canal, and was on more 
 than one occasion admitted to an audience wilh the Empress of 
 Russia, the mighty Czarina Catherine; a fine, bold, strapping woman, 
 with a great taste for Politics, Diamonds, the Fine Arts, and affairs 
 of Gallantry. The first time I made my obeisance to her Majesty 
 (which was at her summer residence of Peterhoff, on the River 
 Neva), she deigned, smiling affably, to say to me: 
 
 “ Ah, ah! vous etes le Sabreur anglais qui avez rosse mes gens la- 
 bas, & Moscou. Je voudrais que vous en fissiez autant pour mes 
 faquins de Chevalier-Gardes a Petersbourg. ” 
 
 I was given to understand in very high quarters that I had only 
 
338 
 
 CAPTAUST DANGEilOUS. 
 
 to ask, to receive a lucrative and honorable Appointment in the 
 service of the Czarina—either as a General by Land, or as an Ad¬ 
 miral at Sea; but I was sick of fighting, and of working too; so at 
 last, in disgust, I gave up my House, and taking shipping with my 
 family at Cronstadt, retired to Hamburg, whence, after a brief so¬ 
 journ, I traveled to France. 
 
 My sainted Wife, with whom, after our reunion, I lived most 
 happily, died in Paris, in the year 1773; and then, feeling my Days 
 drawing to a close, and desiring to lay my Bones in my own Coun¬ 
 try, I returned to England, after an absence of more than Thirty 
 Years. Finding that the old Mansion that had belonged to my 
 Grandmother was for sale by Public Auction, I purchased the Free¬ 
 hold, repaired and beautified it, and came to reside in it, occupying 
 my long and happy leisure by the composition of these Memoirs. 
 And if any one of my Readers experiences one hundredth part of 
 the pleasure in Reading these Pages (and that I dare scarcely hope) 
 that I have experienced in Writing them, John Dangerous will, in¬ 
 deed, be amply repaid. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 f* ^ V l 
 
 f t ' 
 
ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 THE BEST 
 
 Washing 
 
 EVER INVENTED. 
 
 No Lady, Married or Sin- 
 gle, Rich or Poor, House¬ 
 keeping or Boarding, will 
 be without it after testing 
 its utility. 
 
 Sold by all first-class 
 Grocers, but beware oi 
 worthless imitations. 
 
 -A-B^.3STIDOISr PHTSIO I 
 
 GLUTEN SUPPOSITORIES 
 
 CURE CONSTIPATION ANI> PILES. 
 
 60 Cents by Mail. Circulars Free. 
 
 HEALTH FOOD CO., 
 
 4th Avenue and loth St., N. Y. 
 
 Munro’s Ten-Cent Letter Writer. 
 
 Giving numerous examples of Model Letters upon Love, Friendship, 
 Business, and Legal Affairs; so that the most illiterate may easily learn how 
 to compose an effective and. correct epistle. Price 10 cents. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, Munro’s Publishing: House, 
 
 P. O. Box 8751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Streep N. Y. 
 
 WHAT IS SAPOLIO? s§s.%: 
 
 equal for all cleaning purposes except the laundry. To use it is to value it. 
 
 What will Sapolio do? Why, it will clean paint, make oil-cloths bright, and 
 give the floors, tables and shelves a new appearance. 
 
 It will take the grease off the dishes and off the pots and pans. 
 
 You can scour the knives and forks with it, and make the tin things shine 
 brightly. The wash-basin, the bath-tub. even the greasy kitchen sink, wilt b« 
 as clean as a new pin if you use SAPOLIO. 0°© cake will prove all we 
 say. Be a clever little housekeeper and try it. 
 
 BEWARE OF IMITATIONS. 
 
MUNRO’S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 THE SEASIDE LIBRARY 
 
 nPoclszet ZEd-itloru 
 
 The following books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any 
 address, postage free, by the publisher, on receipt of price. Parties 
 wishing the Pocket Edition of the Seaside Library must be careful to 
 mention the Pocket Edition, otherwise the Ordinary Edition will be sent. 
 
 Newsdealers wishing catalogues of The Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, 
 bearing their imprint, will be supplied on sending their names, addresses, and 
 number required. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, Munro’s Publishing House, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 
 
 jro. PRICE. 
 
 1 Yolande. By William Black_20 
 
 2 Molly Bawn. By “The Duch¬ 
 
 ess ”... . . 20 
 
 3 The Mill on the Floss. By George 
 
 Eliot. 20 
 
 4 Under Two Flags. By “ Ouida ” 20 
 
 5 The Admiral’s Ward. By Mrs. 
 
 Alexander. 20 
 
 6 Portia. By “ The Duchess”_20 
 
 7 File No. 113. By Emile Gabo- 
 
 riau. 20 
 
 8 East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry 
 
 Wood. 20 
 
 9 Wanda, Couutess von Szalras. 
 
 By “ Ouida ”. 20 
 
 10 The Old Curiosity Shop. By 
 
 Charles Dickens. 20 
 
 11 John Halifax, Gentleman. By 
 
 Miss Mulock. 20 
 
 12 Other People’s Money. By Emile 
 
 Gaboriau.20 
 
 13 Eyre’s Acquittal. By Helen B. 
 
 MfltbprQ 10 
 
 14 Airy Fairy Liiian. By “ The Duch- 
 
 ess 10 
 
 15 Jane Eyre. By Charlotte Bront6 20 
 
 16 Phyllis. By “ The Duchess ”... 20 
 
 17 The Wooing O’t. By Mrs. Alex¬ 
 
 ander. 20 
 
 18 Shandon Bells. By William 
 
 Black. 20 
 
 19 Her Mother’s Sin. By the author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne ’’. 10 
 
 20 Within an Inch of His Life. By 
 
 Emile Gaboriau. 20 
 
 21 Sunrise: A Story of These Times. 
 
 Bj r William Black. 20 
 
 23 David Copperfleld. By Charles 
 Dickens. Vol. 1. 20 
 
 22 David Copperfleld. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. Vol. n.20 
 
 23 A Princess of Thule. By William 
 
 Black. 20 
 
 $4 Pickwick Papers. By Charles 
 Dickens. Vol. I...20 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 24 Pickwick Papers. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. Vol. II.20 
 
 25 Mrs. Geoffrey. By “ The Duch¬ 
 
 ess ”. 20 
 
 26 Monsieur Lecoq. By Emile Ga¬ 
 
 boriau. Vol. 1. 20 
 
 26 Monsieur Lecoq. By Emile Ga¬ 
 
 boriau. Vol. II. 20 
 
 27 Vanity Fair. By William M. 
 
 Thackeray.20 
 
 28 Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter Scott, 
 
 Bart. 20 
 
 29 Beauty’s Daughters. By “The 
 
 Duchess”. 10 
 
 30 Faith and Unfaith. By “ The 
 
 Duchess”. 20 
 
 31 Middlemarch. By'George Eliot. 
 
 First half. 20 
 
 31 Middlemarch. By George Eliot. 
 
 Second half. 20 
 
 32 The Land Leaguers. By Anthony 
 
 Trollope. 20 
 
 33 The Clique of Gold. By Emile 
 
 Gaboriau. 10 
 
 34 Daniel Deronda. By George 
 
 Eliot. First half .. 20 
 
 34 Daniel Deronda. By George 
 
 Eliot. Second half. 20 
 
 35 Lady Audley’s Secret. By Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 36 Adam Bede. By George Eliot .. 20 
 
 37 Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. First half. 20 
 
 37 Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. Second half . 29 
 
 38 The Widow Lerouge. By Emile 
 
 Gaboriau..20 
 
 39 In Silk Attire. By William 
 
 Black. 20 
 
 40 The Last Days of Pompeii. By 
 
 Bulwer Lytton..20 
 
 41 Oliver Twist. Charles Dickens. 20 
 
 42 Romola. By George Eliot. 20 
 
 43 The Mystery of Orcival. By 
 
 Exaile Gaboriau.20 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.—Pocket Edition. 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 44 Macleod of Dare. By William 
 
 Black. 20 
 
 45 A Little Pilgrim. By Mrs. Oli- 
 
 phant. 10 
 
 46 Very Hard. Cash. By Charles 
 
 Reade.20 
 
 47 AltioraPeto. By Laurence Oli- 
 
 phant. 20 
 
 48 Thicker Than Water. By James 
 
 Payn. 20 
 
 49 That Beautiful Wretch. By 
 
 William Black. 20 
 
 50 The Strange Adventures of a 
 
 Phaeton. By William Black. 20 
 
 51 Dora Thorne. By the author of 
 
 “ Her Mother’s Sin ”.20 
 
 52 The New Magdalen. By Wilkie 
 
 Collins. 10 
 
 53 The Story of Ida. By Francesca 10 
 
 54 A Broken Wedding-Ring. By 
 
 the author of “ Dora Thome ” 20 
 
 55 The Three Guardsmen. By 
 
 Alexander Dumas. 20 
 
 56 Phantom Fortune. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon. 20 
 
 57 Shirley. By Charlotte Bront6.. 20 
 
 58 By the Gate of the Sea. By D. 
 
 Christie Murray. 10 
 
 59 Vice Versa. By F. Anstey. 20 
 
 60 The Last of the Mohicans. By 
 
 J. Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 61 Charlotte Temple. By Mrs. 
 
 Rowson. 10 
 
 62 The Executor. By Mrs. Alex¬ 
 
 ander. 20 
 
 13 The Spy. By J. Fenimore Coop¬ 
 er . 20 
 
 64 A Maiden Fair. By Charles 
 
 Gibbon. 10 
 
 65 Back to the Old Home, By Mary 
 
 Cecil Hay. 10 
 
 66 The Romance of a Poor Young 
 
 Man. By Octave Feuillet_ 10 
 
 67 Lorna Doone. By R. D. Black- 
 
 more. 1st and 2d half, each 20 
 
 68 A Queen Amongst Women. By 
 
 the author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 
 «9 Madolin's Lover. By the author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne ”. 20 
 
 70 White Wings: A Yachting Ro¬ 
 
 mance. By William Black... 10 
 
 71 A Struggle for Fame. By Mrs. 
 
 J. H. Riddell.. 20 
 
 72 Old Myddelton’s Money. By 
 
 Mary Cecil Hay. 20 
 
 73 Redeemed by Love. By the 
 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 
 
 74 Aurora Floyd. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon. 20 
 
 75 Twenty Years After. By Alex¬ 
 
 ander Dumas.20 
 
 76 Wife in Name Only. By the 
 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 
 
 77 A Tale of Two Cities. By Chas. 
 
 Dickens. 20 
 
 78 Madcap Vioiet. By Wm. Black 20 
 
 79 Wedded and Parted. By the 
 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 10 
 
 J* 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 80 June. By Mrs. Forrester . 20 
 
 81 A Daughter of Heth. By Wm. 
 
 Black. 20 
 
 82 Sealed Lip's. By Fortune Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 20 
 
 83 A Strange Story. By Sir E. Bul- 
 
 wer Lytton. 20 
 
 84 Hard Times. By Charles Dick¬ 
 
 ens. 10 
 
 85 A Sea Queen. By W. Clark 
 
 Russell.20 
 
 86 Belinda. By Rhoda Broughton 20 
 
 87 Dick Sand; or, A Captain at 
 
 Fifteen. By Jules Verne. 20 
 
 88 The Privateersman. By Cap¬ 
 
 tain Marryat. 20 
 
 89 The Red Eric. By R. M. Ballan- 
 
 tyne. 10 
 
 90 Ernest Maltravers. By Sir E. 
 
 Bulwer Lytton . 20 
 
 91 Barnaby Rudge. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. 1st and 2d half, each 20 
 
 92 Lord Lynne’s Choice. By the 
 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”. . 10 
 
 93 Anthony Trollope’s Autobiogra¬ 
 
 phy ... 20 
 
 94 Little Dorrit. By Charles Dick¬ 
 ens. First half. 20 
 
 94 Little Dorrit. By Charles Dick¬ 
 
 ens. Second half. 20 
 
 95 The Fire Brigade. By R. M. 
 
 Ballantyne. 10 
 
 96 Erling the Bold. By R. M. Bal¬ 
 
 lantyne. 10 
 
 97 All in a Garden Fair. By Walter 
 
 Besaut. 20 
 
 98 A Woman-Hater. By Charles 
 
 Reade. 20 
 
 99 Barbara’s History. By Amelia 
 
 B. Edwards. 20 
 
 100 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas. 
 
 By Jules Verne. 20 
 
 101 Second Thoughts. By Rhoda 
 
 Broughton. 20 
 
 102 The Moonstone. By Wilkie 
 
 Collins. 20 
 
 103 Rose Fleming. By Dora Russell 10 
 
 104 The Coral Pin. By F. Du Bois- 
 
 105 A Noble Wife. By John Saun- 
 
 d@rs 20 
 
 106 Bleak House. By Charies Dick¬ 
 
 ens. First half. 20 
 
 106 Bleak House. By Charles Dick¬ 
 
 ens. Second half. 20 
 
 107 Dombey and Son. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. 1st and 2d half, each 20 
 
 108 The Cricket on the Hearth, and 
 
 Doctor Marigold. By Charles 
 Dickens.. . 18 
 
 109 Little Loo. By W. Clark Rus¬ 
 
 sell. 20 
 
 110 Under the Red Flag. By Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon. 10 
 
 111 The Little School-master Mark. 
 
 By J. H. Shorthouse. 10 
 
 112 The Waters of Marah. By John 
 
 Hill.SW 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY—Pocket Edition 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 113 Mrs. Carr’s Companion. By M. 
 
 G. Wightwick . 10 
 
 114 Some of Our Girls. By Mrs. 
 
 C. J. Eiloart..20 
 
 115 Diamond Cut Diamond. By T. 
 
 Adolphus Trollope. 10 
 
 116 Moths. By “ Ouida ”. 20 
 
 117 A Tale of the Shore and Ocean. 
 
 By W. H. G. Kingston.20 
 
 118 Loys, Lord Berresford. and Eric 
 
 Dering. By “ The Duchess ”. 10 
 
 119 Monica, and A Rose Distill’d. 
 
 By “ The Duchess ”... . 10 
 
 120 Tom Brown’s School Days at 
 
 Rugby. By Thomas Hughes 2) 
 
 121 Maid of Athens. By Justin Mc¬ 
 
 Carthy. 20 
 
 122 lone Stewart. By Mrs. E. Lynn 
 
 Linton.20 
 
 123 Sweet is True Love. By “ The 
 
 Duchess ”. 10 
 
 124 Three Feathers. By William 
 
 Black. 20 
 
 125 The Monarch of Mincing Lane. 
 
 By William Black. 20 
 
 126 Kilmeny. By William Black... 20 
 
 127 Adrian Bright. By Mrs. Caddy 20 
 
 128 Afternoon, and Other Sketches. 
 
 By “ Ouida ”... . 10 
 
 129 Rossmoyne. By “ The Duch¬ 
 
 ess ”. 10 
 
 13d The Last of the Barons. Buiwer 
 
 Lytton. 1st and 2d half, each 20 
 
 131 Our Mutual Friend. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. 40 
 
 132 Master Humphrey’s Clock. By 
 
 Charles Dickens. 10 
 
 133 Peter the Whaler. By W. H. G. 
 
 Kingston. 10 
 
 134 The Witching Hour. By “ The 
 
 Duchess”. 10 
 
 135 A Great Heiress. By R. E. Fran- 
 
 cillon.... 10 
 
 136 “That Last Rehearsal.” By 
 
 “ The Duchess ”. 10 
 
 137 Uncle Jack. By Walter Besant 10 
 
 138 Green Pastures and Piccadillj 7 . 
 
 By William Black. 20 
 
 139 The Romantic Adventures of a 
 
 Milkmaid. By Thomas Hardy 10 
 
 140 A Glorious Fortune. By Walter 
 
 Besant. 10 
 
 141 She Loved Him! By Annie 
 
 Thomas. 10 
 
 142 Jenifer. By Annie Thomas_ 20 
 
 143 One False, Both Fair. J. B. 
 
 Harwood. 20 
 
 141 Promises of Marriage. By 
 Emile Gaboriau. 10 
 
 145 “Storm-Beaten:” God and The 
 
 Man. By Robert Buchanan.. 20 
 
 146 Love Finds the Way. By Walter 
 
 Besant and James Rice. 10 
 
 147 Rachel Ray. By Anthony Trol¬ 
 
 lope.... 20 
 
 148 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms. 
 
 By the author of “ Dora 
 Thorne”. 10 
 
 tt) 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 149 The Captain’s Daughter. From 
 
 the Russian of Pdshkin. 10 
 
 150 For Himself Alone. By T. W. 
 
 Speight. 10 
 
 151 The Ducie Diamonds. By C. 
 
 Blatherwick. 16 
 
 152 The Uncommercial Traveler. 
 
 By Charles Dickens. 20 
 
 153 The Golden Calf. By MissM. E. 
 
 Braddon... 20 
 
 154 Annan Water. By Robert Bu¬ 
 
 chanan. 20 
 
 155 Lady Muriel’s Secret. By Jean 
 
 Middleman..... 20 
 
 156 “ For a Dream’s Sake.” By Mrs. 
 
 Herbert Martin . 20 
 
 157 Milly’s Hero. By F. W. Robin¬ 
 
 son. 20 
 
 158 The Starling. By Norman Mac- 
 
 leod, D.D. 10 
 
 159 A Moment of Madness, and 
 
 Other Stories. By Florence 
 Marryat. 10 
 
 160 Her Gentle Deeds. By Sarah 
 
 Tytler. 10 
 
 161 The Lady of Lyons. Founded 
 
 on the Play of that title by 
 Lord Lytton. 10 
 
 162 Eugene Aram. By Sir E. Bui¬ 
 
 wer Lytton. 20 
 
 163 Winifred Power. By Joyce Dar¬ 
 
 rell. 20 
 
 164 Leila; or, The Siege of Grenada. 
 
 By Sir E. Buiwer Lytton. 10 
 
 165 The History of Henry Esmond. 
 
 By William Makepeace/Thack- 
 eray. 20 
 
 166 Moonshine and Marguerites. By 
 
 “The Duchess”. iO 
 
 167 Heart and Science. By Wilkie 
 
 Collins. 20 
 
 168 No Thoroughfare. By Charles 
 
 Dickens and Wilkie Collins... 10 
 
 170 A Great Treason. By Mary 
 
 Hoppus. 30 
 
 171 Fortune’s Wheel, and Other 
 
 Stories. By “ The Duchess” 10 
 
 172 “ Golden Girls.” By Alan Muir 20 
 
 173 The Foreigners. By Eleanor C. 
 
 Price. 20 
 
 174 Under a Ban. By Mrs. Lodge.. 20 
 
 175 Love’s Random Shot, and Other 
 
 Stories. By Wilkie Collins... 10 
 
 176 An April Day. By Philippa P. 
 
 Jephson. 10 
 
 177 Salem Chapel. By Mrs.Oliphant 20 
 
 178 More Leaves from the Journal 
 
 of a Life in the Highlands. By 
 Queen Victoria. 10 
 
 179 Little Make-Believe. By B. L. 
 
 Farjeon. 10 
 
 180 Round the Galley Fire. By W. 
 
 Clark Russell. 10 
 
 181 The New Abelard. By Robert 
 
 Buchanan. 10 
 
 182 The Millionaire. A Novel.20 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.—Pocket Edition. 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 183 Old Contrairy, and Other Sto¬ 
 
 ries. By Florence Marryat.... 10 
 
 184 Thirlby Hall. By W. E. Norris. 20 
 
 185 Dita. By Lady Margaret Ma- 
 
 jendie. 10 
 
 186 The Canon’s Ward. By James 
 
 Payn. 20 
 
 187 The Midnight Sun. ByFredrika 
 
 Bremer. 10 
 
 188 Idonea. By Anne Beale.20 
 
 189 Valerie’s Fate. Mrs. Alexander 10 
 
 190 Romance of a Black Veil. By 
 
 the author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 
 
 191 Harry Lorrequer. By Charles 
 
 Lever. 20 
 
 192 At the World’s Mercy. By F. 
 
 Warden. 10 
 
 193 The Rosary Folk. By G. Man- 
 
 ville Fenn. 10 
 
 194 “ So Near, and Yet So Far!” By 
 
 Alison. 10 
 
 195 “ The Way of the World.” By 
 
 David Christie Murray. 20 
 
 196 Hidden Perils. By Mary Cecil 
 
 Hay... 10 
 
 197 For Her Dear Sake. By Mary 
 
 Cecil Hay. 20 
 
 198 A Husband’s Story. 10 
 
 199 The Fisher Village. By Anne 
 
 Beale. 10 
 
 200 An Old Man's Love. By An¬ 
 
 thony Trollope. 10 
 
 201 The Monastery. By Sir Walter 
 
 Scott. 20 
 
 202 The Abbot. By Sir Walter Scott 20 
 
 203 John Bull and His Island. By 
 
 Max O’Rell. 10 
 
 204 Vixen. By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 
 
 205 The Minister’s Wife. By Mrs. 
 
 Oliphant. 30 
 
 206 The Picture, and Jack of All 
 
 Trades. By Charles Reade.. 10 
 
 207 Pretty Miss Neville. By B. M. 
 
 Croker. 20 
 
 208 The Ghost of Charlotte Cray, 
 
 and Other Stories. By Flor¬ 
 ence Marryat. . 10 
 
 209 John Holdsworth, Chief Mate. 
 
 By W. Clark Russell. 10 
 
 216 Readiana: Comments on Cur¬ 
 rent Events. By Chas. Reade 10 
 
 211 The Octoroon. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon... 10 
 
 212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dra¬ 
 
 goon, By Charles Lever. 
 First and Second half, each.. 20 
 £13 A Terrible Temptation. Chas. 
 
 Reade. 20 
 
 £14 Put Yourself in His Place. By 
 Charles Reade. 20 
 
 215 Not Like Other Girls. By Rosa 
 
 Nouchette Carey.20 
 
 216 Foul Play. By Charles Reade. 20 
 
 217 The Man She Cared For. By 
 
 F. W. Robinson.20 
 
 218 Agnes Sorel. By G. P. R. James 20 
 
 219 Lady Clare; or, The Master of 
 
 the Forges. By Georges Ohnet 10 
 
 NO. 
 
 220 
 
 221 
 
 222 
 
 223 
 
 004 
 
 225 
 
 226 
 
 227 
 
 228 
 
 229 
 
 230 
 
 231 
 
 232 
 
 233 
 
 234 
 
 235 
 
 236 
 
 237 
 
 238 
 
 239 
 
 240 
 
 241 
 
 242 
 
 243 
 
 243 
 
 244 
 
 245 
 
 246 
 
 247 
 
 248 
 
 249 
 
 250 
 
 251 
 
 252 
 
 253 
 
 254 
 
 255 
 
 256 
 
 PRICE. 
 
 Which Loved Him Best? By 
 the author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 
 Coinin’ Thro’ the Rye. By 
 
 Helen B. Mathei*s. 20 
 
 The Sun-Maid. By Miss Grant 20 
 A Sailor’s Sweetheart. By W. 
 
 Clark Russell. 20 
 
 The Arundel Motto. Mary Cecil 
 
 Hay.20 
 
 The Giant’s Robe. By F. Anstey 20 
 
 Friendship. By “ Ouida ”. 20 
 
 Naucy. By Rhoda Broughton. 20 
 Princess Napraxine. By “ Oui- 
 
 u yg 
 
 Maid, Wife, or Widow? By 
 
 Mrs. Alexander. 10 
 
 Dorothy Forster. By Walter 
 
 BGSftut 20 
 
 Griffith Gaunt. Charles Reade 20 
 Love and Money; or, A Perilous 
 Secret. By Charles Reade... 10 
 “ I Say Noor, the Love-Letter 
 Answered. Wilkie Collins.... 20 
 Barbara; or, Spleudid Misery. 
 
 Miss M. E. Braddon.’.. 20 
 
 “It is Never Too Late to 
 Mend.” By Charles Reade... 20 
 Which Shall It Be?- Mrs. Alex¬ 
 ander. 20 
 
 Repented at Leisure. By the 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 
 
 Pascarel. By “ Ouida ”_ 20 
 
 Signa. By “Ouida”. 20 
 
 Called Back. By Hugh Conway 10 
 The Baby’s Grandmother. By 
 
 L. B. Walford. 10 
 
 The Two Orphans. ByD’Ennery 10 
 Tom Burke of “ Ours.” First 
 half. By Charles Lever. ...;. 20 
 Tom Burke of “ Ours.” Second 
 
 half. By Charles Lever.20 
 
 A Great Mistake. By the author 
 of “ His Wedded Wife 20 
 
 Miss Tommy, and In a House- 
 
 Boat. By Miss Mulock. 10 
 
 A Fatal Dower. By the author 
 
 of “ His Wedded Wife ”. 10 
 
 The Armourer’s Prentices. By 
 
 Charlotte M. Yonge. 10 
 
 The House on the Marsh. F. 
 
 Warden. 10 
 
 “ Prince Charlie’s Daughter.” 
 
 By author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 
 Sunshine and Roses; or, Di¬ 
 ana’s Discipline. By the au¬ 
 thor of “ Dora Thorne ”. 10 
 
 The Daughter of the Stars, and 
 Other Tales. By Hugh Con¬ 
 way, author of “Called Back” 10 
 A Sinless Secret. By “Rita”.. 10 
 The Amazon. By Carl Vosmaer 10 
 The Wife’s Secret, and Fair but 
 False. By the author of 
 
 “Dora Thorne”. 10 
 
 The Mystery. By Mrs. Henry- 
 
 Wood. 20 
 
 Mr. Smith: A Part of His Life. 
 
 By L. B. Walford.,.80 
 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY-Pocket Edition. 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 257 Beyond Recall. By Adeline Ser¬ 
 
 geant. 10 
 
 258 Cousins. By L. B. Walford_ 20 
 
 259 The Bride of Monte-Oristo. (A 
 
 Sequel to “ The Count of 
 Monte-Cristo.” By Alexander 
 Dumas. 10 
 
 260 Proper Pride. By B. M. Croker 10 
 
 261 A. Fair Maid. By F. W. Robinson 20 
 
 262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 
 
 Parti By Alexander Dumas 20 
 
 262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 
 
 Part II. By Alexander Dumas 20 
 
 263 An Ishmaelite. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon . 20 
 
 264 Piddouche, A French Detective. 
 
 By Fortune Du Boisgobey_ 10 
 
 265 Judith Shakespeare: Her Love 
 
 Affairs and Other Adventures. 
 
 By William Black. 20 
 
 266 The Water-Babies. A Fairy Tale 
 
 for a Laud-Baby. By the Rev. 
 Charles Kingsley. 10 
 
 267 Laurel Vane; or, The Girls’ 
 
 Conspiracy. By Mrs. Alex. 
 McVeigh Miller. 20 
 
 268 Lady Gay’s Pride; or, The 
 
 Miser's Treasure. By Mrs. 
 Alex. McVeigh Miller.’. 20 
 
 269 Lancaster’s Choice. By Mrs. 
 
 Alex. McVeigh Miller. 20 
 
 270 The Wandering Jew. Part I. 
 
 By Eugene Sue. 20 
 
 270 The Wandering Jew. Part II. 
 
 By Eugene Sue. 20 
 
 271 The Mysteries of Paris. Part I. 
 
 By Eugene Sue. 20 
 
 271 The Mysteries of Paris. Part II. 
 
 By Eugene Sue. 20 
 
 272 The Little Savage. By Captain 
 
 Marry at... .*. 10 
 
 273 Love and Mirage; or, The Wait¬ 
 
 ing on an Island. By M. 
 Betham Edwards.. . 10 
 
 274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 
 
 Princess of Great Britain and 
 Ireland. Biographical Sketch 
 and Letters. 10 
 
 275 The Three Brides. Charlotte M. 
 
 Yonge..'. 10 
 
 276 Under the Lilies and Roses. By 
 
 Florence Marryat (Mrs. Fran¬ 
 cis Lean). 10 
 
 277 The Surgeon’s Daughters. By 
 
 Mrs. Henry Wood. A Man of 
 His Word. By W. E. Norris. 10 
 
 278 For Life and Love. Alison. 10 
 
 279 Little Goldie. Mrs. Sumner Hay¬ 
 
 den. 20 
 
 280 Omnia Vanitas. A Tale of So¬ 
 
 ciety. By Mrs. Forrester. 10 
 
 281 The Squire’s Legacy. By Mary 
 
 Cecil Hay. .... . 20 
 
 282 Donat Grant. By George Mac¬ 
 
 Donald. 20 
 
 283 The Sin of a Lifetime. By the 
 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 10 
 *84 poris. By “The Duo^ess”. .. 10 
 
 PRICE. 
 
 The Gambler’s Wife. 30 
 
 Deldee; or. The Iron Hand. By 
 
 F. Warden. 20 
 
 At War With Herself. By the 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 10 
 From Gloom to Sunlight. By 
 the author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 
 John Bull’s Neighbor in Her 
 True Light. By a “ Brutal 
 
 Saxon ”. 10 
 
 Nora’s Love Test. By Mary Cecil 
 
 Hay. 20 
 
 Love’s Warfare. By the author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne”. 10 
 
 A Golden Heart. By the author 
 
 of “Dora Thorne”. 10 
 
 The Shadow of a Sin. By the 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 10 
 Hilda. By the author of “ Dora 
 
 Thorne”. 10 
 
 A Woman’s War. By the author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne ”. 10 
 
 A Rose in Thorns. By the au¬ 
 thor of “Dora Thorne”. 10 
 
 Hilary’s Folly. By the author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne ”. 10 
 
 Mitclielhurst Place. By Marga¬ 
 ret Veley. 10 
 
 The Fatal Lilies, and A Bride 
 from the Sea. By the author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne ”. 10 
 
 A Gilded Sin, and A Bridge of 
 Love. By the author of “ Dora 
 
 Thorne”.:. 10 
 
 Dark Days. By Hugh Conwaj r . 10 
 The Blatcliford Bequest. By 
 
 Hugh Conway. 10 
 
 Iugledew House, and More Bit¬ 
 ter than Death. By the author 
 
 of “Dora Thorne”. 10 
 
 In Cupid’s Net. By the author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne ”. 10 
 
 A Dead Heart, and Lady Gwen¬ 
 doline’s Dream. By the au¬ 
 thor of “ Dora Thorne ”. 10 
 
 A Golden Dawn, and Love for a 
 Day. By the author of “ Dora 
 
 Thorne ”. 10 
 
 Two Kisses, and Like No Other 
 Love. By the author of “Dora 
 
 Thorne”. 10 
 
 Beyond Pardon. 20 
 
 The Pathfinder. By J. Feni- 
 
 more Cooper... 20 
 
 The Prairie. By J. Fenimore 
 
 Cooper..’...20 
 
 Two Years Before the Mast. By 
 
 R. H. Dana, Jr. 20 
 
 A Week in Killarney. By “ The 
 
 Duchess”. 10 
 
 The Lover’s Creed. By Mrs. 
 
 Cashel Hoey. 20 
 
 Peril. By Jessie Fothergill— 20 
 The Mistletoe Bough. Edited 
 
 by Miss M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 Sworn to Silence; or. Aline Rod¬ 
 ney’s Secret. By Mrs. Alex. 
 McVeigh Miller. 20 
 
 NO. 
 
 285 
 
 286 
 
 287 
 
 288 
 
 289 
 
 290 
 
 291 
 
 292 
 
 293 
 
 294 
 
 295 
 
 296 
 
 297 
 
 298 
 
 299 
 
 300 
 
 301 
 
 302 
 
 303 
 
 304 
 
 305 
 
 306 
 
 307 
 
 308 
 
 309 
 
 310 
 
 311 
 
 312 
 
 313 
 
 314 
 
 315 
 
 316 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.—Pocket Edition. 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 817 By’Mead and Stream. Charles 
 
 Gibbon. 20 
 
 818 The Pioneers: or, The Sources 
 
 of the Susquehanna. By J. 
 Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 819 Face to Face: A Fact in Seven 
 
 Fables. By R. E. Franeillon. 10 
 
 820 A Bit of Human Nature. By 
 
 David Christie Murray. 10 
 
 321 The Prodigals: And Their In¬ 
 
 heritance. By Mrs. Olipliant 10 
 
 322 A Woman’s Love-Story. 10 
 
 323 A Willful Maid. 20 
 
 324 In Luck at Last. By Walter 
 
 Besant. 10 
 
 325 The Portent. By George Mac¬ 
 
 donald. 10 
 
 826 Phantastes. A Faerie Romance 
 for Men and Women. By 
 George Macdonald. 10 
 
 327 Raymond’s Atonement. (From 
 
 the German of E. Werner.) 
 
 By Christina Tyrrell. 20 
 
 328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. By 
 
 F. Du Boisgobey. First half. 20 
 
 328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. By 
 
 F. Du Boisgobey. Second half 20 
 
 329 The Polish Jew. ByErckmann- 
 
 Chatrian. 10 
 
 330 May Blossom ; or, Between Two 
 
 Loves. By Margaret Lee_ 20 
 
 331 Gerald. By Eleanor C. Price.. 20 
 
 332 Judith Wynne. A Novel.20 
 
 833 Frank Fairlegh ; or, Scenes 
 
 from the Life of a Private 
 Pupil. By Frank E. Smedley 20 
 334 A Marriage of Convenience. By 
 
 Harriett Jay. 10 
 
 335 The White Witch. A Novel_ 20 
 
 336 Philistia. By Cecil Power. 20 
 
 337 Memoirs and Resolutions of 
 
 Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 
 Including Some Chronicles of 
 the Borough of Fendie. By 
 Mrs. Oliphant. 20 
 
 338 The Family Difficulty. By Sarah 
 
 Doudney. 10 
 
 339 Mrs. Vereker’s Courier Maid. 
 
 By Mrs. Alexander. 10 
 
 340 Under Which King? By Comp¬ 
 
 ton Reade. 20 
 
 841 Madolin Rivers; or. The Little 
 
 Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 
 
 By Laura Jean Libbey. 20 
 
 842 The Baby, and One New Year’s 
 
 Eve. By “ The Duchess ”- 10 
 
 343 The Talk of the Town. By 
 
 o aiuco taju. 
 
 344 “The Wearing of the Green.” 
 
 By Basil.20 
 
 345 Madam. By Mrs. Oliphant_20 
 
 346 Tumbledown Farm. By Alan 
 
 Muir. 10 
 
 847 As Avon Flows. By Henry Scott 
 
 Vince. 20 
 
 848 From Post to Finish. A Racing 
 
 Romance. By Hawley Smart 20 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 349 The Two Admirals. A Tale of 
 
 the Sea. By J. Fenimore 
 Cooper. 2® 
 
 350 Diana of the Crossways. By 
 
 George Meredith.". 10 
 
 351 The House on the Moor. By 
 
 Mrs. Oliphant. 20 
 
 352 At Any Cost. By Edward Gar¬ 
 
 rett. 10 
 
 353 The Black Dwarf, and A Leg¬ 
 
 end of Montrose. By Sir Wal¬ 
 ter Scott. 20 
 
 354 The Lottery of Life. A Story 
 
 of New York Twenty Years 
 Ago. By John Brougham... 20 
 
 355 That Terrible Man. By W. E. 
 
 Norris. The Princess Dago- 
 mar of Poland. By Heinrich 
 
 Felbermann. 10 
 
 356 A Good Hater. By Frederick 
 
 Boyle. 20 
 
 357 John. A Love Story. Bj’ Mrs. 
 
 Oliphant. 20 
 
 358 Within the Clasp. By J. Ber¬ 
 
 wick Harwood. 20 
 
 359 The Water-Witch. By J. Feni- 
 
 360 Ropes of Sand. By R. E. Fran- 
 
 cillon. 20 
 
 361 The Red Rover. A Tale of the 
 
 Sea. By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 
 
 362 The Bride of Lammermoor. 
 
 By Sir Walter Scott. 20 
 
 363 The Surgeon’s Daughter. By 
 
 Sir Walter Scott. 10 
 
 364 Castle Dangerous. By Sir Wal¬ 
 
 ter Scott. 10 
 
 365 George Christy; or, The Fort¬ 
 
 unes of a Minstrel. By Tony 
 Pastor. 20 
 
 366 The Mysterious Hunter; or, 
 
 The Man of Death. By Capt. 
 
 L. C. Carleton. 20 
 
 367 Tie and Trick. By Hawley Smart 20 
 
 368 The Southern Star; or, The Dia¬ 
 
 mond Land. By Jules Verne 20 
 
 369 Miss Bretherton. By Mrs. Hum¬ 
 
 phry Ward. 10 
 
 370 LucyCrofton. By Mrs. Oliphant 10 
 
 371 Margaret Maitland. By Mrs. Oli¬ 
 
 phant. 20 
 
 372 Phyllis’ Probation. By the au¬ 
 
 thor of “ His Wedded Wife ”. 10 
 
 373 Wing-and-Wing. J. Fenimore 
 
 Cooper. 20 
 
 374 The Dead Man's Secret; or, The 
 
 Adventures of a Medical Stu¬ 
 dent. By Dr. Jupiter Paeon.. 20 
 
 375 A Ride to Khiva. By Capt. Fred 
 
 Burnaby, of the Royal Horse 
 
 Guards 20 
 
 376 The Crime of Christmas-Day. 
 
 By the author of “ My Duc¬ 
 ats and My Daughter. 10 
 
 377 Magdalen Hepburn: A Story 
 
 of the Scottish Reformation. 
 
 By Mrs. Oliphant.20 
 
 - «&) 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.—Pocket Edition 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 378 Homeward Bound; or, The 
 
 Chase. J. Fenimore Cooper.. 20 
 
 379 Home as Found. (Sequel to 
 
 “ Homeward Bound.”) By J. 
 Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 380 Wyandotte; or, The Hutted 
 
 Knoll. J. Fenimore Cooper.. 20 
 
 381 The Red Cardinal. By Frances 
 
 Elliot.10 
 
 382 Three Sisters; or, Sketches of 
 
 a Highly Original Family. 
 
 By Elsa D’Esterre-Keeling... 10 
 
 383 Introduced to Society. By Ham¬ 
 
 ilton Ai'dd. 10 
 
 384 On Horseback Through Asia 
 
 Minor. Capt. Fred Burnaby. 20 
 
 385 The Headsman; or, Tiie Abbaye 
 
 des Vignerons. B 3 7 J. Feni¬ 
 more Cooper. 20 
 
 386 Led Astray; or, “La Petite Comt- 
 
 esse.” By Octave Feuillet... 10 
 
 387 The Secret of the Cliffs. By 
 
 Charlotte French. 20 
 
 388 Addie’s Husband; or, Through 
 
 Clouds to Sunshine. By the 
 author of “Love or Lands?” 10 
 
 389 Ichabod. By Bertha Thomas... 10 
 
 390 Mildred Trevauion. By “ The 
 
 Duchess”. 10 
 
 391 The Heart of Mid-Lothian. By 
 
 Sir Walter Scott. 20 
 
 392 Peveril of the Peak. By Sir Wal¬ 
 
 ter Scott. 20 
 
 393 The Pirate. By Sir Walter Scott 20 
 
 394 The Bravo. By J. Fenimore 
 
 Cooper. 20 
 
 395 The Archipelago on Fire. By * 
 
 Jules Verne. 10 
 
 396 Robert Ord’s Atonement. By 
 
 Rosa Nouchette Carey.'. 20 
 
 397 Lionel Lincoln; or, The Leaguer 
 
 of Boston. By J. Fenimore 
 Cooper. 20 
 
 398 Matt: A Tale of a Caravan. 
 
 By Robert Buchanan . 10 
 
 399 Miss Brown. By Vernon Lee.. 20 
 
 400 The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish. 
 
 By J. Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 401 Waverley. B } 7 Sir Walter Scott 20 
 
 402 Lilliesleaf; or, Passages in the 
 
 Life of Mrs. Margaret Mait¬ 
 land of Sunnyside. By Mrs. 
 Oliphant. 20 
 
 403 An English Squire. C. R. Cole¬ 
 
 ridge. 20 
 
 404 In Durance Vile, and Other 
 
 Stories. By “ The Duchess ”. 10 
 
 405 My Friends and I. Edited by 
 
 Julian Sturgis. 10 
 
 406 The Merchant’s Clerk. By Sam¬ 
 
 uel Warren. 10 
 
 407 Tylney Hall. By Thomas Hood 20 
 
 408 Lester’s Secret. B 3 7 Mary Cecil 
 
 Hay.'.20 
 
 409 Roy’s Wife By G. J. Wliyte- 
 
 Melville... 20 
 
 410 Old Lady Mary. By Mrs. Oli¬ 
 
 phant. 10 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 411 A Bitter Atonement. By Char¬ 
 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 “Dora Thorne”. 20 
 
 412 Some One Else. By B. M. Croker 20 
 
 413 Afloat and Ashore. By J. Feni¬ 
 
 more Cooper. 20 
 
 414 Miles Wallingford. (Sequel to 
 
 “ Afloat and Ashore.”) By J. 
 Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 415 The Ways of the Hour. By J. 
 
 Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 416 Jack Tier; or. The Florida Reef. 
 
 By J. Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 417 The Fair Maid of Perth; or, St. 
 
 Valentine’s Day. BySirWal- 
 
 Gpr\f(- Of) 
 
 418 St. Ronan’s Well. By sir Wal- 
 
 ter Scott. 20 
 
 419 TheChainbearer; or, The Little- 
 
 page Manuscripts. By J. 
 Fenimore Cooper. 20 
 
 420 Satanstoe; or, The Littlepage 
 
 Manuscripts. By J. Fenimore 
 Cooper.. 20 
 
 421 The Redskins; or, Indian and 
 
 Injin. Being the conclusion 
 
 of The Littlepage Manu¬ 
 scripts. J. Fenimore Cooper 20 
 
 422 Precaution. J.Feuimore Cooper 20 
 
 423 The Sea-Lions; or, The Lost 
 
 Sealers. J. Fenimore Cooper 2t 
 
 424 Mercedes of Castile; or. The 
 
 Voyage to Cathay. By J. 
 Fenimore Cooper. 2 
 
 425 The Oak Openings; or, The Bee- 
 
 Hunter. J. Fenimore Cooper. 2 
 
 426 Venus’s Doves. By Ida Ash¬ 
 
 worth Taylor..2 
 
 427 The Remarkable History of Sir 
 
 Thomas Upmore, Bai t., M.P., 
 formerly known as “ Tommy 
 Upmore.” R. D. Blackmore. 3 
 
 428 Z 6 ro: A Story of Monte-Carlo. 
 
 By Mrs. Campbell Praed. 1( 
 
 429 Boulderstone; or, New Men and 
 
 Old Populations. By Wiliam 
 Sime. V 
 
 430 A Bitter Reckoning. By the 
 
 author of “By Crooked Paths” l( 
 
 431 The Monikins. By J. Fenimore 
 
 Cooper . 2( 
 
 432 The Witch’s Head. By H. Rider 
 
 Haggard. 2f 
 
 433 My Sister Kate. By Charlotte 
 
 M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
 Thorne,” and A Rainy June. 
 
 By “ Ouida ”. 14? 
 
 434 Wyllard’s Weird. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon.2(1 
 
 435 Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg 
 
 Castle. By George Taylor.... 2<) 
 
 436 Stella. Bj 7 Fanny Lewald.20 
 
 437 Life and Adventures of Martin 
 
 Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dick¬ 
 ens. First half.2€ 
 
 437 Life and Adventures of Martin 
 Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dick¬ 
 ens. Second half. 20 
 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.—Pocket Edition. 
 
 NO. 
 
 468 
 
 20 
 
 10 
 
 NO PRTCE 
 
 438 Found Out. Helen B. Blathers. 10 
 
 439 Great Expectations. By Chas. 
 
 Dickens. 20 
 
 Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings. By 
 
 Charles Dickens. .. 10 
 
 A Sea Change. Flora L. Shaw. 20 
 Ranthorpe. By George Henry 
 
 Lewes. 
 
 The Bachelor of The Albany. .. 
 
 The Heart of Jane Warner. By 
 
 Florence Marryat. 20 
 
 The Shadow of a Crime. By 
 
 Hall Caine.20 
 
 Dame Durden. By “ Rita ”_20 
 
 American Notes. By Charles 
 
 Dickens. 20 
 
 Pictures From Italy, and The 
 Mudfog Papers, &c. By Chas. 
 
 Dickens. 20 
 
 Peeress and Player. By Flor¬ 
 ence Marryat. 20 
 
 450 Godfrey Helstone. ByGeorgiana 
 
 M. Craik.20 
 
 Market Harborough, and Inside 
 the Bar. By G. J. Whyte- 
 
 Melville .20 
 
 In the West Countrie. By May 
 
 Crommelin. 20 
 
 The Lottery Ticket. By F. Du 
 
 Boisgobey. 20 
 
 The Mystery of Edwin Drood. 
 
 By Charles Dickens. 20 
 
 Lazarus in London. By F. W. 
 
 Robinson. 20 
 
 Sketches by Boz. Illustrative of 
 Every-day Life and Everj^-day 
 People. By Charles Dickens . 
 
 The Russians at the Gates of 
 Herat. By Charles Marvin... 
 
 A Week of Passion; or, The Di¬ 
 lemma of Mr. George Barton 
 the Younger. By Edward Jen¬ 
 kins. 
 
 A Woman’s Temptation. By 
 Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
 
 of “ Dora Thorne ”. 
 
 Under a Shadow. By Charlotte 
 M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
 
 Thorne ”. 
 
 His Wedded Wife. By author 
 of “ Ladybird’s Penitence ”.. 
 Alice’s Adventures in Wonder¬ 
 land. By Lewis Carroll. With 
 forty-two illustrations by 
 
 John Tenniel. 
 
 Redgauntlet. Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 The Newcomes. By Wm. Make¬ 
 peace Thackeray. Part I. 
 
 464 The Newcomes. By Wm. Make¬ 
 
 peace Thackeray. Part II- 
 
 465 The Earl’s Atonement. By Char¬ 
 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 “ Dora Thorne ”. .*... 
 
 466 Between Two Loves. By Char¬ 
 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 “ Dora Thorne ”. 
 
 467 A Struggle for a Ring. By Char¬ 
 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 
 “ Dora Thorne ”. 20 
 
 'Ws 
 
 440 
 
 441 
 
 442 
 
 443 
 
 444 
 
 445 
 
 446 
 
 447 
 
 448 
 
 449 
 
 451 
 
 452 
 
 453 
 
 454 
 
 455 
 
 456 
 
 457 
 
 458 
 
 459 
 
 460 
 
 461 
 
 462 
 
 463 
 
 464 
 
 20 
 
 10 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 469 
 
 470 
 
 471 
 
 472 
 
 473 
 
 474 
 
 475 
 
 476 
 
 477 
 
 478 
 
 478 
 
 479 
 
 480 
 
 481 
 
 482 
 
 483 
 
 484 
 
 485 
 
 486 
 
 487 
 
 488 
 
 489 
 
 490 
 
 491 
 
 492 
 
 493 
 
 494 
 
 495 
 
 496 
 
 497 
 
 498 
 
 499 
 
 500 
 
 501 
 
 PRICK. 
 
 The Fortunes, Good and Bad, 
 of a Sewing-Girl. By Char¬ 
 lotte M. Stanley. 10 
 
 Lady Darner’s Secret. By Char¬ 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 
 “Dora Thorne”...20 
 
 Evelyn’s Folly. By Charlotte 
 M. Braeme, author of “ Doi>a 
 
 Thorne ”. 20 
 
 Thrown on the World. By Char¬ 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 
 “Dora Thorne”. 20 
 
 The Wise Women of Inverness. 
 
 By William Black. 10 
 
 A Lost Son. By Mary Linskill. 10 
 
 Serapis. By George Ebers.20 
 
 The Prima Donna’s Husband. 
 
 By F. Du Boisgobey. 20 
 
 Between Two Sins. By Char¬ 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 
 “ Dora Thorne ”. 10 
 
 Affinities. A Romance of To¬ 
 day. By Mrs. Campbell Praed. 10 
 Diavola; or, Nobody’s Daughter 
 By MissM. E. Braddon. Parti. 20 
 Diavola; or, Nobody’s Daughter 
 By MissM. E. Braddon. Part II. 20 
 Louisa. Katharines. Macquoid 20 
 Married in Haste. Edited by 
 
 Miss M. E. Braddon.20 
 
 The House that Jack Built. By 
 
 Alison. 10 
 
 A Vagrant Wife. By F. Warden 20 
 Betwixt My Love and Me. By 
 the author of “A Golden Bar ” 10 
 Although He Was a Lord, and 
 Other Tales. Mrs. Forrester. 10 
 Tinted Vapours. By J. Maclareu 
 
 Cobban. 10 
 
 Dick’s Sweetheart. By “The 
 
 Duchess”. 20 
 
 Put to the Test. Edited by Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 Joshua Haggard’s Daughter. 
 
 By Miss M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 Rupert Godwin. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon.20 
 
 A Second Life. Mrs. Alexander 20 
 Society in London. By A For¬ 
 eign Resident.. 10 
 
 Mignon ; or. Booties’ Baby. By 
 
 J. S. Winter. Illustrated. 10 
 
 Colonel Enderby’s Wife. By 
 
 Lucas Malet. 20 
 
 A Maiden All Forlorn, and Bar¬ 
 bara. By “ The Duchess ”... 10 
 Mount Royal. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon. 20 
 
 Only .a Woman. Edited by Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 The Lady’s Mile. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon. 20 
 
 Only a Clod. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon. 20 
 
 The Cloven Foot. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon. 20 
 
 Adrian Vidal. By W. E. Norris. 20 
 Mr. Butler’s Ward. By F. 
 Mabel Robinson. 20 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY—Pocket Edition. 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 502 Carriston’s Gift. By Hugh Con¬ 
 
 way. author of “Called Back” 10 
 
 503 The Tinted Venus. F. Anstey. 10 
 
 504 Curly: An Actor’s Story. By 
 
 John Coleman. Illustrated. 
 
 My Poor Wife. By the au¬ 
 thor of “ Addie’s Husband ”.. 10 
 
 505 The Society of Loudon. By 
 
 Count Paul Vasili. 10 
 
 506 Lady Lovelace. By the author 
 
 of “ Judith Wynne ”. 20 
 
 507 Chronicles of the Canongate, 
 
 and Other Stories. By Sir 
 Walter Scott. 10 
 
 508 The Unholy Wish. By Mrs. 
 
 Henry Wood. The Girl at the 
 Gate. By Wilkie Collins. 10 
 
 509 NellHaffenden. Tighe Hopkins 20 
 
 510 A Mad Love. By the author of 
 
 “ Lover and Lord ”. 10 
 
 511 A Strange World. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon.20 
 
 512 The Waters of Hercules.20 
 
 513 Helen Whitney’s Wedding, and 
 
 Other Tales. By Mrs. Henry 
 Wood. 10 
 
 514 The Mystery of Jessy Page, and 
 
 Other Tales. Bj' Mrs. Henry 
 Wood. 10 
 
 515 Sir Jasper's Tenant. By Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon.20 
 
 516 Put Asunder; or, Lady Castle- 
 
 maine’s Divorce. By Char¬ 
 lotte M. Braeme, author of 
 “Dora Thorne”. 20 
 
 517 A Passive Crime, and Other 
 
 Stories. By “The Duchess” 10 
 
 518 The Hidden Sin. A Novel. 20 
 
 519 James Gordon’s Wife. A Novel 20 
 
 520 She’s All the World to Me. By 
 
 Hall Caine. 10 
 
 521 Entangled. E. Fairfax Byrrne 20 
 
 522 Zig-Zag, the Clown; or. The 
 
 Steel Gauntlets. By F. Du 
 Boisgobey. 20 
 
 523 The Consequences of a Duel. 
 
 By F. Du Boisgobey. 20 
 
 524 Strangers and Pilgrims. By Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 525 Paul Vargas, and Other Stories. 
 
 By Hugh Conway, author of 
 “ Called Back ”. 10 
 
 526 Madame De Presnel. By E. 
 
 Frances Poynter. 20 
 
 527 The Days of My Life. By Mrs. 
 
 Oliphant. 20 
 
 528 At His Gates. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 
 
 529 The Doctor’s Wife. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon.1....20 
 
 530 A Pair of Blue Eyes. Thomas 
 
 Hardy. 20 
 
 531 The Prime Minister. Anthony 
 
 Trollope. First half. 20 
 
 531 The Prime Minister. Anthony 
 
 Trollope. Second half. 20 
 
 532 Arden Court. Barbara Graham 20 
 
 533 Hazel Kirke. By Marie Walsh 20 
 
 534 Jack. By Alphonse Daudet... 20 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 535 Henrietta’s Wish; or, Domi¬ 
 
 neering. Charlotte M. Yonge 10 
 
 536 Dissolving Views. By Mrs. An¬ 
 
 drew Lang. 10 
 
 537 Piccadilly. Laurence Oliphant 10 
 
 538 A Fair Country Maid. By E. 
 
 Fairfax Byrrne. 20 
 
 539 Silvermead. Jean Middlemas. 20 
 
 540 At a High Price. By E. Werner 20 
 
 541 “As it Fell Upon a Day.” By 
 
 “ The Duchess,” and Uncle 
 
 Jack. By Walter Besant. 10 
 
 542 Fenton’s Quest. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon. 20 
 
 543 A Family Affair. By Hugh 
 
 Conway, author of “ Called 
 Back ”.20 
 
 544 Cut by the County; or, Grace 
 
 Darnel. Miss M. E. Braddon. 10 
 
 545 Vida’s Story. 10 
 
 546 Mrs. Keith’s Crime. 10 
 
 547 A Coquette’s Conquest. By Basil 20 
 
 548 A Fatal Marriage, and The 
 
 Shadow in the Corner. By 
 Miss M. E. Braddon. 10 
 
 549 Dudley Carleon; or. The Broth¬ 
 
 er’s Secret, and George Caul¬ 
 field’s Journey. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon. 10 
 
 550 Struck Down. Hawley Smart. 10 
 
 551 Barbara Heathcote’s Trial. By 
 
 Rosa Nouchette Carey. 20 
 
 552 Hostages to Fortune. By Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 553 Birds of Prey. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon. 20 
 
 554 Charlotte’s Inheritance. (A Se¬ 
 
 quel to “ Birds of Prey.”) By 
 Miss M. E. Braddon.20 
 
 555 Cara Roma. By Miss Grant... 20 
 
 556 A Prince of Darkness. By F. 
 
 Warden.20 
 
 557 To the Bitter End. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon. 20 
 
 558 Poverty Corner. By G. Manville 
 
 Fenn. 20 
 
 559 Taken at the Flood. By Miss 
 
 M. E. Braddon. 20 
 
 560 Asphodel. Miss M. E. Braddon 20 
 
 561 Just As I Am. By Miss M. E. 
 
 Braddon.20 
 
 562 Lewis Arundel; or, The Rail¬ 
 
 road of Life. By Frank E. 
 Smedley. 20 
 
 563 The Two Sides of the Shield. 
 
 By Charlotte M. Yonge. 20 
 
 564 At Bay. By Mrs. Alexander... 10 
 
 565 No Medium. By Annie Thomas 10 
 
 566 The Royal Highlanders; or, The 
 
 Black Watch in Egypt. By 
 
 James Grant.. 20 
 
 567 Dead Men’s Shoes. By Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon. 20 
 
 568 The Perpetual Curate. By Mrs. 
 
 Oliphant..— 20 
 
 569 Harry Muir. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 
 
 570 John Marchmont's Legacy. By 
 
 Miss M. E. Braddon.20 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY,—Pocket Edition. 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 571 Paul Crew’s Story. By Alice 
 
 Comyns Carr. 10 
 
 572 Healey. By Jessie Fothergill.. 20 
 
 573 Love’s Harvest. B. L. Farjeon 20 
 
 574 The Nabob: A Story of Parisian 
 
 Life and Manners. By Al¬ 
 
 phonse Daudet.20 
 
 575 The Finger of Fate. By Cap¬ 
 
 tain Mayne Reid. 20 
 
 576 Her Martyrdom. By Charlotte 
 
 M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
 Thorne ”. 20 
 
 577 In Peril and Privation. By 
 
 James Payn. 10 
 
 578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 
 
 Verne. Part I. (Illustrated).. 10 
 578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 
 
 Verne. Part II. (Illustrated) 10 
 
 578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 
 
 Verne. Part III. (Illustrated) 10 
 
 579 The Flower of Doom, and Other 
 
 Stories. By M. Betham-Ed- 
 wards. . 10 
 
 580 The Red Route. William Sime 20 
 
 581 The Betrothed. (I Promessi 
 
 Sposi.) Alessandro Manzoni. 20 
 
 582 Lucia, Hugh and Another. By 
 
 Mrs. J. H. Needell. 20 
 
 583 Victory Deane. Cecil Griffith.. 20 
 
 584 Mixed Motives. 10 
 
 585 A Drawn Game. By Basil. 20 
 
 586 “For Percival.” By Margaret 
 
 Veley. 20 
 
 587 The Parson o’ Dumford. By G. 
 
 Manville Fenn. 20 
 
 588 Cherry. By the author of “ A 
 
 Great Mistake”. 10 
 
 589 The Luck of the Darrells. By 
 
 James Payn. 20 
 
 590 The Courting of Mary Smith. 
 
 By F. W. Robinson. 20 
 
 591 The Queen of Hearts. By Wil¬ 
 
 kie Collins. 20 
 
 592 A Strange Voyage. By W. 
 
 Clark Russell.20 
 
 593 Berna Boyle. By Mrs. J. H. 
 
 Riddell.20 
 
 594 Doctor Jacob. By Miss Betham- 
 
 Edwards. 20 
 
 595 A North Country Maid. By Mrs. 
 
 H. Lovett Cameron.20 
 
 596 My Ducats and My Daughter. 
 
 By the author of “The Crime 
 of Christmas Day ”. 20 
 
 597 Haco the Dreamer. By Will¬ 
 
 iam Sime. 10 
 
 598 Corinna. By “ Rita.”. 10 
 
 599 Lancelot Ward, M. P. By 
 
 George Temple. 10 
 
 600 Houp-La. By John Strange 
 
 Winter. (Illustrated). 10 
 
 601 Slings and Arrows, and Other 
 
 Stories. By Hugh Conway, 
 author of “ Called Back ”_ 10 
 
 602 Camiola: A Girl With a Fort¬ 
 
 une. By Justin McCarthy... 20 
 003 Agnes. Mrs. Oliphant. 1st half 20 
 (103 Agnes. Mrs. Oliphant. 2d half 20 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 604 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 
 
 Life. Mrs. Oliphant. 1st half 20 
 
 604 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 
 
 Life. Mrs. Oliphant. 2d half 20 
 
 605 Ombra. By Mrs. Oliphant_ 20 
 
 606 Mrs. Hollyer. By Georgiana M. 
 
 Craik. 20 
 
 607 Self-Doomed. By B. L. Farjeon 10 
 
 608 For Lilias. By Rosa Nouchette 
 
 Carey. 20 
 
 609 The Dark House: A Knot Un¬ 
 
 raveled. By G. Manville Fenn 10 
 
 610 The Story of Dorothy Grape, 
 
 and Other Tales. By Mrs. 
 Henrjr Wood. 10 
 
 611 Babylon. By Cecil Power. 20 
 
 612 My Wife’s Niece. Bj r the au¬ 
 
 thor of “ Dr. Edith Romney ” 20 
 
 613 The Ghost’s Touch, and Percy 
 
 and the Prophet. By Wilkie 
 Collins. 10 
 
 614 No. 99. By Arthur Griffiths... 10 
 
 615 Mary Anerley. By R. D. Black- 
 
 more. 20 
 
 616 The Sacred Nugget. By B. L. 
 
 Farjeon-.-. 20 
 
 617- Like Dian’s Kiss. . By “ Rita ”. 20 
 
 618 The Mistletoe Bough. Christ¬ 
 
 mas, 1885. Edited by Miss M. 
 
 E. Braddon. 20 
 
 619 Joy; or, The Light of Cold- 
 
 Home Ford. By May Crom- 
 melin. 20 
 
 620 Between the Heather and the 
 
 Northern Sea. M. Linskill... 20 
 
 621 The Warden. Anthony Trollope 10 
 
 622 Harry Heathcote of Gangoil. 
 
 By Anthony Trollope. 10 
 
 623 My Lady's Money. By Wilkie 
 
 Collins....10 
 
 624 Primus in Indis. By M. J. 
 
 Colquhoun. 10 
 
 625 Erema; or, My Father’s Sin. 
 
 By R. D. Blackmore. 20 
 
 627 White Heather. By Wm. Black 20 
 
 628 Wedded Hands. By the author 
 
 of “ My Lady’s Folly ”.20 
 
 629 Cripps, the Carrier. By R. D. 
 
 Blackmore. 28 
 
 630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 
 
 Blackmore. First half.20 
 
 630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 
 Blackmore. Second half_ 20 
 
 632 Clara Vaughan. By R. D. Black- 
 
 more. 20 
 
 633 The Maid of Sker. By R. D. 
 
 Blackmore. 1st half. 20 
 
 633 The Maid of Sker. By R. D. 
 
 Blackmore. 2d half. 20 
 
 634 The Unforeseen. By Alice 
 
 O’Hanlon. 20 
 
 635 Murder or Manslaughter? By 
 
 Helen B. Mathers. 10 
 
 636 Alice Lorraine. By R. D. Black- 
 
 more. 1st half.. 20 
 
 * 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.—Pocket Edition 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 636 Alice Lorraine. By R. D. Black- 
 
 more. 2 d half. 20 
 
 637 What’s His Offence ? A Novel. 20 
 
 638 In Quarters with the 25th (The 
 
 Black Horse) Dragoons. By 
 J. S. Winter. 10 
 
 639 Othmar. By “ Ouida ”. 20 
 
 610 Nuttie’s Father. By Charlotte 
 
 M. Yonge. 20 
 
 641 The Rabbi’s Spell. By Stuart 
 
 C. Cumberla nd. 10 
 
 642 Britta. By George Temple— 10 
 
 643 The Sketch-book of Geoffrey 
 
 Crayon, Gent. By Washing¬ 
 ton Irving. 20 
 
 644 A Girtou Girl. By Mrs. Annie 
 
 Edwards. 20 
 
 645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains. By 
 
 R h o d a Broughton, and 
 Oliver’s Bride. By Mrs. Oli- 
 phant. 10 
 
 646 The Master of the Mine. By 
 
 Robert Buchanan... 20 
 
 647 Goblin Gold. By May Crom- 
 
 melin. 10 
 
 648 The Angel of the Bells. By F. 
 
 Du Boisgobey. 20 
 
 649 Cradle and Spade. By William . 
 
 Sime. 20 
 
 650 Alice; or, The Mysteries. (A Se¬ 
 
 quel to “ Ernest Maltravers.”) 
 
 By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton. 20 
 
 651 “Self or Bearer” By Walter 
 
 Besant. 10 
 
 652 The Lady With the Rubies. By 
 
 E. Marlitt. 20 
 
 653 A Barren Title. T. W. Speight 10 
 
 654 “Us.” An Old-fashioned Story. 
 
 By Mrs. Molesworth. 10 
 
 655 The Open Door, and The Por¬ 
 
 trait. By Mrs. Oliphant. 10 
 
 656 The Golden Flood. By R. E. 
 
 Francillon and Wm. Senior... JO 
 
 657 Christmas Angel. By B. L. 
 
 Far jeon. 10 
 
 658 The History of a Week. By 
 
 Mrs. L. B. Walford. 10 
 
 659 The Waif of the “ Cynthia.” By 
 
 Jules Verne.20 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 660 The Scottish Chiefs. By Miss 
 
 Jane Porter. 1st half. 20 
 
 660 The Scottish Chiefs. By Miss 
 
 Jane Porter. 2d half. 20 
 
 661 Rainbow Gold. By David Chris¬ 
 
 tie Murray. 20 
 
 662 The Mystery of Allan Grale. 
 
 By Isabella Fy vie Mayo. 20 
 
 665 The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest. 
 
 By Charlotte M. Yonge_... 20 
 
 666 My Young Alcides. By Char¬ 
 
 lotte M. Yonge. 20 
 
 667 The Golden Lion of Granpere. 
 
 By Anthony Trollope. 20 
 
 668 Haif-Way. An Anglo-French 
 
 Romance. 20 
 
 671 Don Gesualdo. By “ Ouida.”.. 10 
 
 672 In Maremma. By “Ouida.” 
 
 1st half. 20 
 
 672 In Maremma. By “ Ouida.” 
 
 2d half.. 20 
 
 673 Story of a Sin. By Helen B. 
 
 Mathers. 20 
 
 674 First Person Singular. By 
 
 David Christie Murray. 20 
 
 675 Mrs. Dymond. By Miss Thack¬ 
 
 eray . 20 
 
 677 Griselda. By the author of “ A 
 
 Woman’s Love-Story ”. 20 
 
 678 Dorothy’s Venture. By Mary 
 
 Cecil Hay. 20 
 
 679 Where Two Ways Meet. By 
 
 Sarah Doudney. 10 
 
 680 Fast and Loose. By Arthur 
 
 Griffiths. 20 
 
 681 A Singer’s Story. By May Laf- 
 
 682 In the Middle Watch. By W. 
 
 Clark Russell. 20 
 
 683 The Bachelor Vicar of New- 
 
 forth. B 3 7 Mrs. J. Harcourt- 
 Roe. 20 
 
 684 Last Days at Apswich. . 10 
 
 685 England Under Gladstone. 1880 
 
 —1885. By Justin H.McCarthy, 
 M.P. 20 
 
 686 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and 
 
 Mr. Hyde. By Robert Louis 
 Stevenson. 10 
 
 Persons who wish to purchase the foregoing wor4rs in complete and un¬ 
 abridged form are cautioned to order aud see that they get The Seaside Li¬ 
 brary, Pocket Edition, as works published in'other libraries are frequently 
 abridged and incomplete. Every number of The Seaside Library is un¬ 
 changed and unabridged. 
 
 Newsdealers wishing catalogues of The Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, 
 bearing their imprint, will be supplied on sending their names, addresses, and 
 number required. 
 
 The works in The Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, are printed from 
 larger type and on better paper than any other series published. 
 
 The foregoing works are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any 
 address, postage free, on receipt of price, by the publisher. Address 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, Munro’s Publishing House, 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y, 
 
 [When ordering by mail please order by numbers.] 
 
THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.—Pocket Edition. 
 
 LATEST ISSUES: 
 
 NO. PRICE. 
 
 701 The Woman in White. Wilkie 
 
 Collins. Illustrated. 2d half 20 
 
 702 Mau and Wife. By Wilkie Col¬ 
 
 lins. First half. 20 
 
 702 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col¬ 
 
 lins. Second half. 20 
 
 703 A House Divided Against Itself. 
 
 By Mrs. Oliphant. 20 
 
 701 Prince Otto. By R. L. Steven¬ 
 son . 10 
 
 705 Tlie Woman I Loved, and the 
 
 Woman Who Loved Me. By 
 Isa Blagden. 10 
 
 706 A Crimson Stain. By Annie 
 
 Bradshaw.. 10 
 
 707 Silas Marner. The Weaver of 
 
 Raveloe. By George Eliot... 10 
 
 708 Ormond. By Maria. Edgeworth 20 
 
 709 Zenobia; or, the Fall of Palmyra 
 
 By William Ware. 1st half.. 20 
 709 Zenobia; or, the Fall of Palmyra 
 
 By William Ware. 2d half... 20 
 
 710 The Greatest Heiress in Eng¬ 
 
 land. By Mrs. Oliphant.20 
 
 711 A Cardinal Sin. By Hugh Con¬ 
 
 way. 20 
 
 712 For Maimie’s Sake. By Grant 
 
 Allen.. 20 
 
 713 “Cherry Ripe!” By Helen B. 
 
 Mathers... 20 
 
 714 ’Twixt Love and Duty. By 
 
 Tighe Hopkins. 20 
 
 715 I Have Lived and Loved. By 
 
 Mrs. Forrester.20 
 
 716 Victor and Vanquished. By 
 
 Mary Cecil TTay.20 
 
 717 Beau Taucrede; or, the Mar¬ 
 
 riage Verdict. By Alexander 
 Dumas. 20 
 
 718 Unfairly Won. By Mrs. Power 
 
 O’Donoghue. 20 
 
 720 Paul Clifford. By Sir E. Bulwer 
 
 Lytton, Bart. 20 
 
 721 Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester_ 20 
 
 722 What’s Mine’s Mine. By George 
 
 Macdonald. .... 20 
 
 723 Mauleverer’s Millions. By T. 
 
 Wemyss Reid.20 
 
 724 My Lord and My Lady. By 
 
 Mrs. Forrester.20 
 
 725 Mv Ten Years’ Imprisonment. 
 
 By Silvio Pellico.. 10 
 
 726 My Hero. By Mrs. Forrester... 20 
 27 Fair Women. By Mrs. Forrester 20 
 
 728 Janet’s Repentance. By George 
 
 Eliot. 10 
 
 729 Mignon. Mrs. Forrester_?.. 20 
 
 730 The Autobiography of Benja¬ 
 
 min Franklin. 10 
 
 no. price. 
 
 731 The Bayou Bride. By Mrs. Mary 
 
 E. Bryan.20 
 
 732 From Olympus to Hades. By 
 
 Mrs. Forrester. 20 
 
 733 Lady Branksmere. By “The 
 
 Duchess”.. 20 
 
 734 Viva. By Mrs. Foi-rester. 20 
 
 735 Until the Day Breaks. By 
 
 Emily Spender. 20 
 
 736 Roy and Viola. Mrs. Forx-ester 20 
 
 737 Aunt Rachel. By David Christie 
 
 Mux-ray. 10 
 
 738 In the Golden Days. By Edna 
 
 Lyall.20 
 
 739 The Caged Lion. By Chai-lotte 
 
 M. Yonge. 20 
 
 740 Rhona. By Mrs. Forrester_20 
 
 741 The Heiress of Hilldrop; or, 
 
 The Romance of a Young 
 Girl. By Charlotte M. Bi-aeme, 
 author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 
 
 742 Love and Life. By Charlotte 
 
 M. Yonge. 20 
 
 743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 
 
 Russell. 1st half. 20 
 
 743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 
 
 Russell. 2d half. 20 
 
 744 Diana Carew; or. For a Wom¬ 
 
 an’s Sake. By Mrs. Forrester 20 
 
 745 For Another’s Sin; or, A Strug¬ 
 
 gle for Love. By Charlotte M. 
 Braeine, author of “ Doi*a 
 Thorne”.. 20 
 
 746 Cavalry Life; or, Sketches and 
 
 Stories in Barracks and Out. 
 
 By J. S. Winter. 20 
 
 747 Our Sensation Novel. Edited 
 
 by Justin H. McCai-thy, M.P.. 10 
 
 748 Hu'rrish: A Study. By the 
 
 Hon. Emily Lawless. 20 
 
 749 Lord Vanecourt’s Daughtei*. By 
 
 Mabel Collins. 20 
 
 754 How to be Happy Though Mar¬ 
 
 ried. By a Graduate in the 
 University -of Matriinony.20 
 
 755 Margery Daw. A Novel. 20 
 
 756 The Strange Adventures of Cap¬ 
 
 tain Dangerous. A Narrative 
 in Plain English. Attempted 
 by Geoi-ge Augustus Sala_ 20 
 
 757 Love’s Martyr. By Laurence 
 
 Alma Tadema...10 
 
 758 “Good-bye, Sweetheart!” By 
 
 Rhoda Broughton. 20 
 
 759 In Shallow Waters. By Annie 
 
 Armitt. 20 
 
 765 Not Wisely, But Too Well. By 
 Rhoda Broughton.. 20 
 
 The fox-egoing works, contained in The Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, 
 are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address, postage free, on 
 receipt of price. Parties ordering by mail will please order by numbers. Ad¬ 
 dress 
 
 GEORGE MUNRO, 
 
 IWUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
 
 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 
 
 P. O. Box 3751. 
 
THF ftmTWf\rftuiLi7.AT!0N—A Mcs&a&£. FROM TH&SEA$! 
 
 PEARS’ SOAP IMPROVES THE COM¬ 
 PLEXION\ IS UNRIVALED AS A PURE DE¬ 
 LIGHTFUL TOILET SOAP, A ND IS FOR SALE 
 THROUGH OUT THE CIVILIZED WORLD . 
 
LLBRE 
 
 SOON WED 
 
 Girls who use 
 
 SAPOU® are 
 
 QUICKLY MARRIED 
 
 S APOLIO is one of the best known city luxuries and each time a cake 
 is used an hour is saved. On floors, tables and painted work it acts like 
 a charm. For scouring pots, pans and metals it has no equal. If your 
 storekeeper does not keep it you should insist upon his doing so, as it 
 elwaysgives satisfaction and its immense sale all over the United States 
 makes it an almost necessary article to any well supplied store. Every¬ 
 thing shines after its use, and even the children delight in using it in 
 their attempts to help around the house* 
 
 every WATERPROOF COLLAR or CUFF 
 
 THAT CAN BE RELIED ON 
 
 JJot to S-plit? 
 
 iVot to Uiscoior S 
 
 BEARS THIS MARK. 
 
 MEEDS NO LAUNDERING. CAN BE WIPED CLEAN IN A MOMENT* 
 
 THE ONLY LINEN-LINED WATERPROOF 
 COLLAR IN THE MARKET. 
 
 jj ' j - 
 
 BE UP 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MARK 
 
 __ 
 
SOAPS & 
 
 . AGATES PERFUMES 
 
 trange sight to see a large field planted with 
 rose bushes, in long, straight rows, very much as corn is cultivated in 
 this country. 
 
 Yet there are hundreds of fields in Southern France, like the one 
 shown in the above picture, which bear no less than 180,000 lbs, or 90 
 tons of roses each year, for Colgate & Co. 
 
 As the perfume of a flower is more fragrant in the early morning, 
 great care is exercised to secure the roses from only those farmers who 
 gather their flowers early in the morning, before the dew has dried from 
 the leaves, and the hot sun drawn off the perfume. 
 
 It is this attention to the minutest detail in obtaining only the 
 choicest kind of perfume, and the best of materials, which has secured f©£- 
 CJolgate & Co. the highest awards at World Expositions, and gives ua- 
 ‘ rall<' 
 
 rivalled superiority to their Soaps and Perfumes, the favorite of which 
 
 CASHMERE BOUQUET.