Prince Rupert, the Buccaneer

by Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne

I am free to confess that the meeting with Captain Wick and his men, let alone from the sums earned as their passage money, was indeed fortunate from another respect. That Prince Rupert had high military genius, no one who reads these memoirs, and the other histories specially written upon his person, will for a moment deny. But the fact cannot be got over that if the brigantine had stuck to her original course, his Highness and the others on her would have starved, if indeed they had not drowned first. For the nearest land (if indeed they did not miss it) was distant a week's sail that way, and the seas in between practically desert. But this Captain Wick, if rude, had at least local knowledge and no particular appetite for starvation, and so by his hint the brigantine was headed for Curassou, which island it appeared was conveniently close at hand.

Let no reader think that in owning this, Master Stephen Laughan wavers for one instant in loyalty to Prince Rupert, and profound admiration for his wonderful powers. But the fact is the island was out of sight below an horizon, and guessing at an island's position, when indeed you have never before heard of its existence, is but dangerous seamanship.

As Wick himself owned the place had small enough fame. It had neither mines nor pearl-fisheries; the Spaniards did naught but gather salt there; and as this commodity would not attract buccaneers, who liked more profitable valuables for their purses, there were no fortifications to protect the works or the labourers.

"But, your worship," said Captain Wick, "at present we need comestibles more than cash, and I take it that these fellows on Curassou, humble though they may be, must have some sort of food on hand to stow in their bellies. And besides, salt-making should be one of the thirstiest trades imaginable, and there you see that drink, and much drink, is clearly indicated." And in fine this prophecy came very near to the truth. In the harbour of the island they found two vessels of the salt gatherers and a well-stored village ashore all practically undefended, and these they took without opposition.

At this point though the very nasty customs of the buccaneers nearly caused a breach—and indeed would have brought about complete severance of the parties if the secretary had had the choice. For the rude fellows, after their usual habit, when the materials for debauch were ready to their hands, had not the smallest mood to go abroad for further earning, and in this Captain Wick (that was none too sober himself) to all practical purposes gave them his countenance.

"Master Prince," he hiccoughed solemnly. "I am your most obedient servant to command, but you mustn't ask me to make water run up hill, or to cause handy liquor to cease from running down a thirsty buccaneer's gullet. They are common fellows, common as dirt every one of them, and they haven't the gentility and niceness that is natural to you and me. And moreover, as a buccaneer's life is often a short one, he strives to make it as merry as may be. Besides as you are one of the brotherhood yourself, you ought to fall in with the custom. I'm sure Simpson, your matelot, would not be pleased to see you deny yourself. Come, my lord, what do you say, if you and me, that are their superiors, condescend a little and go and take a turn down yonder ourselves?"

The Prince very civilly declined, but still this Wick must needs persuade him further.

"Of course it's not what me and your lordship are accustomed to, but there's entertainment in it. A buccaneer when he's ashore is a rarely humorous fellow. The Spaniards were asked to provide a fiddle, or some pipes, or at least a drum for harmony; but it seems they are leanly enough furnished with both talent and instruments; and so the beggars have been stood in a row, and bidden to whistle jigs as dance music. The boatswain's been appointed bandmaster, with a rope's end for baton, and I can tell you he's making a dandy orchestra."—Captain Wick fidgetted with his feet—"Oh Lord," he said, "watch 'em dancing. I just must have a turn myself. Here, Master Laughan, you're slim, and should make a most ladylike partner. Come along."

And with that he clapped an arm round the poor secretary's waist (that was like to have died with mortification) and set off into absurd capers, keeping time to the whistling, till the pair of them were brought to a stop through sheer breathlessness.

Prince Rupert (it is painful to relate) was in one of his whimsical humours, and, far from interfering, only laughed and shook with merriment. "Keep it up, Stephen, lad," cried he. "You fling a fine leg. By my faith, you dance the best maid's steps of all of them. Ho! you other blushing, bearded, lady buccaneers, mince your steps like Master Laughan."—And when the secretary came back flushed and angry to his side, and would have reproached him with a look, "Pooh! lad," said he, "you're none the worse. There's a bit too much of the pedant about you at times"—At which the poor creature tried to smile, though in truth she was but an ace off tears.