Chapter XXV: The Pious Squire

"The good people of Nova Scotia were, in days gone by, exceedingly given to Toryism, and, as was then held to be the natural result, very loyal. To such an extent was this loyalty and love of Toryism--as it was then called--carried, that a person who consumed 'Yankee goods' was seriously suspected of some improper design against the State. The consumption of British manufactures and British-grown produce was, on the other hand taken as strong testimony of loyalty and confidence in the wise powers protecting the interests of the State. The very presence of 'Yankee goods' was ominous of evil; and as it was desirable the good people should be kept well up to their Toryism, many were the means resorted to for forcing the exclusive consumption of British produce. Tea from the United States was prohibited for the benefit of the East India Company--powder must be British! Tobacco paid imperial and colonial duties approximating to a prohibition; and the consumer of the weed was considered quite an extravagant aristocrat, who either had dealings with smugglers, or was wasting his fortune in the ways of the devil. In a word, imperial and colonial duties dried up the energies of the people, and gave new life to a contraband trade that was fast destroying the best interests of the State. The result was, that the best smuggler was the most desperate fellow; but it generally happened that the man who said most against 'Yankee goods' was sure to be deepest implicated in contraband trade.

"To be a scientific smuggler in those days it was necessary to be a justice of the peace: and if the office were coupled with that of church warden so much the better. About this time there was, in the Bay of Fundy, an old coaster of the name of Hornblower, who knew every creek, cove, inlet and headland, together with all the best points for smuggling, from the St. Croix River to Windsor Bay on the one side, and from Windsor Bay to Barrington on the other. Skipper Hornblower, as he was then called, had the go-ahead in him, and commanded the schooner Dash, owned by one Squire Burgle, who carried on a strictly _legitimate_ trade with the Yankees over the _line_, though he always gave out that he hated them as a people, nor would ever sell a pennyworth of their notions which he denounced as worthless. Hornblower was a _brusque_ old salt, but had a right good heart in him, and, not liking the way trade was restricted by imperial and colonial exactions, thought it no harm to work to windward of the collectors now and then, and accommodate his friends in a free-trade sort of way. Tea, 'in them times,' cost six colonial shillings and a day's journey per pound, and a gallon of molasses about the same. The good old women in more remote parts of the province, must have their tea, and molasses was an indispensable luxury, for they were indeed poor. But they were compelled to buy of the established merchant, who was a sort of prince in his way, and dictated his terms to the people, whom he always kept in poverty while he got rich. Molasses, tea, tobacco, and rum (New England white-eye, labelled Jamaica!) constituted his stock in trade. To length of credit he added corresponding prices, never forgetting to take good security. His medium price for tick was only forty per cent. addition, which he considered extremely liberal.

"And thus, through a pettifogging colonial policy, commerce was turned into the merest peculation by a class of persons who made it their object to restrict the agriculturist, and hold his interests at their mercy. The more the farmer raised, the more he found himself subject to the shopkeeper's narrow restrictions; and thus the interests of a naturally energetic people were held in check. The Home Government (God bless it! as the very loyal Provincials used to say when the Imperial Parliament took their cause under consideration) thought little about the outside Nova Scotians, except to say, once in a while, that the territory they inhabited belonged to her Majesty, which fact the people of the province were forcibly reminded of by the presence of imported gentlemen, whom it had pleased her Majesty to place in all responsible offices. In fact, the Home Government, through its pewter-headed policy, was for ever making laws to suit the immediate demands of a favored few, who said good things of loyalty and toryism, and left the rest to chance.

"During this state of affairs, Skipper Hornblower's fame sounded far and wide, and many were the stories told of his smuggling exploits, and how Squire Burgle always kept a large stock of British goods on hand, which he never sold cheaper than any body else, though he got richer. Hornblower's account of how he and the Squire carried on business together in the good old times may not be uninteresting, 'Squire Burgle,' said Hornblower, 'was a great man in them days, said a sight of good things in his prayers every night and morning, denounced smuggling, and hoped all those fearless men that followed it would see the error of their way, turn to her Majesty, and make their loyalty honor the State. Squire used to send me to Boston--(the Dash was the only craft in the trade then)--with little things to sell, and a return cargo of flour, gin, tobacco, and such like Yankee notions, which the Nova Scotians must have, and upon which her Majesty lavished most ungracious duties, to fetch home. Well, the Squire lived at the town of Annapolis, twenty miles up a river, where Digby, at its entrance, was the only port of entry within a hundred miles. Seeing that I liked to make quick trips, it was not always convenient to stop at this obdurate port of entry, and so I used to lay the Dash's head for a piece of dark wood on a point of land outside the entrance (always being careful to have a clearance in _merchandise_) and run her close aboard of it. Squire had a cousin living near that bit of wood, who used to understand the thing, and could sight the Dash's signal ten miles at sea. Lying off and on until sundown, the Squire's cousin would hang out a light on a tree; if at the top it was the signal--'All right;' if half-mast, 'Keep out!' 'There's the light--all right to-night! the boys used to say, when it gleamed at the tree top.' Then into the basin and up the river we used to dodge, passing on the opposite side of the river, and as far from the port of entry as it was possible to get, and reaching a point on the banks where the cargo was to be discharged, while the folks on shore were all nicely sleeping. The Squire, of course, had said his prayers, or, as it sometimes would happen--though it was always accidental--had gone to Digby, for the purpose of giving her Majesty's Collector a ride into the country. The Collector was always an imported gentleman, who maintained a good deal of imported dignity, which the Nova Scotians had to 'tip' out of him, ere he became a clever fellow, according to their notion of such a being. In addition to taking the Collector a short pleasure trip into the country, the Squire had a nigger fellow, of the name of Tom, who, as cunning as a fox, could tell the Dash was coming, by something he always said he saw was in the clouds. Tom lived on Pin Point, where the Squire had his half-way warehouse, always full of foreign goods, on which no one could tell how much duty had been paid. This half-way warehouse, which Tom called his, used to atone for a monstrous quantity of sins. The Squire, however, declared he had established it there, in the fulness of his generosity, merely to accommodate his kind customers, whose means of travelling did not enable them to reach his trading marts at either extreme. But, when customers called at Pin-Point to do a little trading with the Squire, they generally found it closed, and Old Tom offering his very best apology, by saying it was where master only did his wholesale business. This was accepted on the ground that the Squire and Tom were very funny individuals. Well, we would run to the Point at night, and Tom having everything ready to move at the word, would shoot the Yankee goods into the warehouse, where, in six hours, they would be all transferred into real British growth and manufacture. During this time the Squire was nowhere; but Tom did things as if he knew how. Indeed no sooner were the goods out than we made the best of our way down the river again.

"Next morning, the sun about two hours up, you would see the Dash away down the bay, as calm as moonlight, just sighting Digby. Squire--totally ignorant of Hornblower's arrival--would be putting on the longest face in the town of Annapolis, going up and down the street quite disconsolate, and climbing into the church steeple to see if he could sight the Dash below. 'Hornblower's gone this time!' he would say, shaking his head, 'must be lost! must be lost! must be lost!' And the Squire would tell about his horrid dream, seeing Hornblower's ghost smuggling a chest of tea (real congou), and the Collector catching him on the spot. 'Hornblower's tricky--he larnt it of the Yankees--and I'm always afraid he'll get cotched smuggling little things for himself. What a blessing it is to have a clear conscience!' he would say: the last sentence referring to himself.

"But soon the knowing ones got an inkling of the Squire's secrets, and when he mentioned the Dash in his prayers at morning, and walked the wharf after breakfast, muttering his misgivings, she was sure to arrive in the afternoon. There was virtue in the Squire, but the citizens got the hang of it so well, that whenever I arrived at town they would say: 'It's only Hornblower's ghost.'

"While the Squire would be doing what he called the straight-forward up in town, I'd be dropping kedge at Digby, where (the Colonial Parliament having withdrawn the appropriation for a boarding-boat, that smugglers might get through their little operations without trouble) we would send our own boat for the collector. Used to have everything as bright as a new sixpence, and colors flying, and my own face squared up to do the honest, when that imported dignitary came on board, affecting all the importance of a Port-Admiral.

"'Had a good passage, eh, Hornblower?' the prim collector used to ask, as he mounted the rail.

"'Blowed like cannons, outside, last night! Seeing how we had just ballast in her, like to tipped her over,' I'd say, bowing, keeping my hat in my hand, and doing the polite all up.

"'Didn't have a chance to smuggle, according to that, eh?'

"'Yer honor knows Hornblower never does that sort of thing. The Squire, my owner, is pious, you know,' I'd say, keeping the long face hard down.

"'Yes, Hornblower, I know your owner to be conscientious and pious; that is why I always let you off so easy.' And the collector would look so credulously good-natured that I couldn't help drawing out a roll of cigars, telling him they were pure Havanas, when presenting them. It used to do me good to see how it--small as it was--softened things about his heart. I would immediately follow the cigars with the papers, taking good care to have merchandise enough in the hold to correspond with what was set forth on the clearance and manifest. 'Ye see, sir,' I'd remark, 'I never smuggles, except it is a few cigars now and then, for my own smoking! Old Jacob Grimes says, when a government makes laws what people can't live to, you must live round them; but them ain't my principles.'

"'Thank you, Mr. Hornblower, I am sure you have more regard for your honor than to smuggle,' he would resume, keeping his eyes fixed upon me.

"'I am obliged to you for the confidence--the confidence of superiors in spirit or body; and I hope I may never do anything but what will merit yours. It has been my motto through life to keep before me the words of my good old mother. Ah! she was a mother. Fond soul, she used to say, 'Solomon, my boy, let your dealing with the world be marked by honesty, and remember that one small error in your life may stain forever your character. The eyes of an unforgiving world once excited to suspicion will ever wear the same glasses.'' Having said this, nothing more was wanted to make complete the Squire's confidence. Without further detention, he would have the papers made out, and having received them, we would trim our sheets and sail away up the river, Old Tom boarding us off Pin Point, and laughing himself almost out of his black skin--welcoming us after the fashion of friends met after a long absence. All this time the Squire would be impatiently waiting on the wharf at the little town of Annapolis--so glad to see Hornblower! 'No contraband goods on board, eh, Hornblower?' he would inquire, affecting such an amount of piety that it made me laugh in my shoes.

"'Not so much as a plug of tobacco!' I would reply, contemplatively, as the crew commenced putting out the few things we had entered at Her Majesty's Custom House. We had great regard for Her Majesty; nor have I the least doubt of the Squire's honesty, which would have been all right had it not been for the law and parliament. We have only to add that, having played his part after the manner of a good Christian, he would seek his way home, there to arrange an evening prayer-meeting.

"But the beauty of the Squire's nature, as illustrated in his pious hatred of smuggling, or otherwise defrauding Her Majesty, would shine out bright on the day the Dash left on her return voyage. I was sure of an invitation to breakfast with him on that morning, and he was equally sure to paint the purity of his conscience in such glowing colors that it was difficult for me to maintain a serious face. When we had eaten bread, and he had offered up his prayer (in which he always remembered Her Majesty), he would accompany me to the Dash, when, having got on board, and cast off, he would mount the most prominent place on the cap-sill, where the citizens assembled could hear him, and cry out at the top of his voice:--'Hornblower! good-bye. One word more, Hornblower! Let me entreat you not to smuggle a pennyworth for anybody.' My reply always was that I would follow his advice with christian strictness. Then he would modestly finger that cravat so white, and fix in his face such becoming dignity, that I thought his green glasses, which I never liked, covered his eyes to great advantage. 'Remember what I have always endeavored to impress on your mind,' he would continue; 'honesty is the best policy--it is!' Just then everybody would look at the Squire, while it was with great effort I kept from my face a smile. I knew honesty was the best policy; I knew it was the true policy to all praiseworthy ends; but how could I help contemplating the necessity of those preaching who never practised it, seeing that the Squire was not what he seemed, for he smuggled an hundred barrels of flour for every one he paid duty upon. I had also seen him pass sentence of imprisonment and fine on the wretch who smuggled a demijohn of bad spirits, when for him I had smuggled a thousand.

"Thanks to a more liberal commercial policy, that has precluded the necessity for such scenes as the Dash stealing her way into a river at night to land her cargo of contraband goods. Those violations of law, so prevalent a few years ago, have ceased; and in the improved condition of the people we see the result of a new and more liberal policy. But a few years ago, that small craft, the Dash, alone sought to establish what was considered a doubtful trade with the port of Boston; now, some forty pursue a profitable traffic with the State of Massachusetts, which has annually brought to her in British bottoms no less than 170,000 cords of Nova Scotia grown fire-wood.