The hour came for the great march past to begin, and Liberty, who was the mistress of the ceremonies, was trying with very great difficulty to keep her motley crowd in order. The brazen-throated trumpets now brayed out the notice of the approach of the great Buccaneer, or fighting trader. How he now styled himself will be shortly seen. With slow and stately step the great man walked, preceded by his lion and followed immediately by his trusty coxswain old Jack Commonsense, who was got up, regardless of expense, for the occasion. The Buccaneer walked between walls of his subjects, and listened, no doubt, with extreme pleasure to their shouts of welcome and delight. To see the great is at all times a gratifying spectacle, when the treat is not repeated too often. After the Buccaneer had passed his people and had taken his place in the chair of state, they began to make their comments. "Ah!" said some, "he is not the man he was." "Yes, yes," cried others, "he is indeed sorely changed. See how gingerly he treads; how fat he has grown; he is terribly out of condition. Did you notice, too, that his lion has lost most of his teeth?" It could not be denied that the bold Buccaneer's step was not as elastic as it used to be. He was not the gay, rollicking, hard hitting old sailor that he was in days of yore. Luxury had begun to mark him as her own, and much energy of action is never found in her train. He looked puffy and bloated, and altogether, as some of his people said, out of condition. A voice from the crowd exclaimed that a good healthy skunk would be far more serviceable than that old lion. It was the cheap-Jack Jonathan. It was wonderful how he tried to pass off that skunk of his upon other people; all of whom had no doubt plenty of skunks of their own. But Jonathan was such a boastful fellow that he would not be beaten even in a matter of skunks.
Behind the Buccaneer came a numerous retinue of priests, ministers, soldiers, sailors, statesmen, officials of every degree and parasites of all kinds and descriptions, for, of course, so great a man could not be without his fair share of these human insects to feed upon him. The Buccaneer having taken his seat, with his coxswain standing behind his chair, the numerous and splendid retinue filed on to the platform and took up their respective places behind. First of all came the Lords Spiritual and then the Lords Temporal, and then the rest of the goodly company, according to their rank and condition. Just as everything was ready there was a slight confusion caused by an angry discussion between a pimp and a parasite about the order of precedence; but the dispute was happily settled without bloodshed. Both watches were, of course, present on so great an occasion, and amongst the rest were the conspirators of the cook's caboose. The magnificence of the assemblage was gorgeous in the extreme, and dazzling, for all wore their robes of state. Jonathan thought he saw a favourable opportunity of doing a little business, so he began to offer blue spectacles of a cheap make, and at a seductively moderate price to the assembled multitude.
Many shouts rose up as some well-known personage passed to his place, and to save trouble Dogvane kept on bowing acknowledgments for all. Pepper, the cook, who sat between Billy Cheeks and Chips, with the man who had been thrown overboard on one occasion, just behind him, tried very hard to make himself big enough to attract public notice; but he was only partially successful. Just in front of the platform, but off it, there was a railed-in space for the Press, to the members of which the Buccaneer was obliged, as has been already stated, to be particularly civil, for if affronted, not only would they turn upon him and lecture him, but they would abuse him plentifully into the bargain. They all had in front of them their pots of ink, coloured according to the party they served. Better kill a plenipotentiary than hurt one of these gentlemen by an unguarded expression. The Beggar Woman, though no doubt somewhere amongst the crowd, was not conspicuous on this occasion.
Silence was ordered, and prayer was said, and hymns of praise were sung. The greatness and the goodness of the Buccaneer were set to sacred music, and the singers also glorified themselves while they glorified their master. The High Priest then asked the Ruler of all things to take this most respectable and pious Buccaneer under His especial protection, and through His priesthood to bless him; to confound his enemies; to make him happy, prosperous and glorious, and a few other things scarcely worth the mentioning, but which would materially increase his joy in this world. In the end, he asked that the Buccaneer might, through his Church, obtain a good inheritance in the Kingdom of Heaven. After this light spiritual refection the Buccaneer experienced that gentle calm which piety and respectability alone can give, and that inner consciousness, which at all times so gratified him, namely, that he was so much better than any of his neighbours, and all those who did not walk along his road to heaven. He was now quite ready for business.
A very high state official, who was robed in cloth of gold of superior quality and make, and whose back and front were covered with heraldic devices, now blew a long and loud blast upon a brazen trumpet, he then cried out in a loud voice: "Listen all ye whom it may concern. Know ye then that the most illustrious, potent, and powerful Sea King (thus he was styled in all official documents), the mighty ruler of an empire, upon which the sun never sets, the keeper of the keys of Heaven, the defender of the only true Faith, having heard that some few of his liege subjects, consider themselves in some trifling matters aggrieved, has been most graciously pleased to hold this grand court at this time assembled, so that grievances may be heard and wrongs redressed. May God bless our great Sea King!" The last few words were merely a matter of form, because it was well known that the Buccaneer and all his people were the Lord's anointed. The trumpets again sounded and the procession, or march past, of the disaffected was ordered to begin; but now another grave difficulty arose; who was to lead? The mistress of the ceremonies, following a time-honoured custom, was for bringing on the ladies first, but a noisy lot of Ojabberaways declared that their burden of oppression was so great as to do away with all traditions, and that unless they were allowed to have their own way, no business should be done.
Nothing, perhaps, showed the unfortunate state into which things had been allowed to pass, than the extreme licence which the Ojabberaways were allowed to have. They had been given an inch and they had taken the proverbial ell. A small tribe of people, headed by a small band of paid patriots, who reaped a rich harvest out of the disaffection of their countrymen, was allowed to obstruct all business and dictate to the great Sea King or Buccaneer, what he was to do, and how and at what time he was to do it. All this was the handiwork of Madam Liberty, who used Dogvane and a few of his watch, to carry out her designs.
Even Dogvane had said that he must be clothed with sufficient authority to enable him to rule this obstreperous people, but Dogvane had veered round a little; and under his protection the Ojabberaways had become a perfect nuisance, doing very much as they liked.
They gained their point, and with a wild yell, peculiar to their country, and as blood curdling as the cry of the savage when his hand grasps the scalp of an enemy, they came on. Some had on masks; some carried blunderbusses, while others, under their coats, concealed the dagger of the assassin, and the cartridge of the dynamitard. On they came, dragging, with ropes round their necks, a lot of unfortunates whose general bearing and appearance showed that they had seen better days. These poor gentlemen—for gentlemen they were—had the misfortune to own land in the green and fertile isle of the Ojabberaways, some indeed had Ojabberaway blood in their veins; but they belonged to the hated class called landlords, and their chief crime was, that owning land, they expected their tenants to pay rents.
No doubt, in the past, injuries had been done and very much injustice. They may have been hard and even grinding, and even now there might be some amongst them who were not a credit to their class; but that scarcely justified a refusal to fulfil all legal contracts. Their fathers no doubt did many wrongs, lived beyond their means, and ground, in many cases, their tenants down, for there never was an Ojabberaway who could live within his means.
"What is our crime?" cried the captives; "what sins have we committed?"