White Jacket; Or, The World on a Man-of-War

by Herman Melville

  CHAPTER LXVII.

  WHITE-JACKET ARRAIGNED AT THE MAST.

  When with five hundred others I made one of the compelled spectators atthe scourging of poor Rose-water, I little thought what Fate hadordained for myself the next day.

  Poor mulatto! thought I, one of an oppressed race, they degrade youlike a hound. Thank God! I am a white. Yet I had seen whites alsoscourged; for, black or white, all my shipmates were liable to that.Still, there is something in us, somehow, that in the most degradedcondition, we snatch at a chance to deceive ourselves into a fanciedsuperiority to others, whom we suppose lower in the scale thanourselves.

  Poor Rose-water! thought I; poor mulatto! Heaven send you a releasefrom your humiliation!

  To make plain the thing about to be related, it needs to repeat whathas somewhere been previously mentioned, that in _tacking ship_ everyseaman in a man-of-war has a particular station assigned him. What thatstation is, should be made known to him by the First Lieutenant; andwhen the word is passed to _tack_ or _wear_, it is every seaman's dutyto be found at his post. But among the various _numbers and stations_given to me by the senior Lieutenant, when I first came on board thefrigate, he had altogether omitted informing me of my particular placeat those times, and, up to the precise period now written of, I hadhardly known that I should have had any special place then at all. Forthe rest of the men, they seemed to me to catch hold of the first ropethat offered, as in a merchant-man upon similar occasions. Indeed, Isubsequently discovered, that such was the state of discipline--in thisone particular, at least--that very few of the seamen could tell wheretheir proper stations were, at _tacking or wearing_.

  "All hands tack ship, ahoy!" such was the announcement made by theboatswain's mates at the hatchways the morning after the hard fate ofRose-water. It was just eight bells--noon, and springing from my whitejacket, which I had spread between the guns for a bed on the main-deck,I ran up the ladders, and, as usual, seized hold of the main-brace,which fifty hands were streaming along forward. When _main-top-sailhaul!_ was given through the trumpet, I pulled at this brace with suchheartiness and good-will, that I almost flattered myself that myinstrumentality in getting the frigate round on the other tack,deserved a public vote of thanks, and a silver tankard from Congress.

  But something happened to be in the way aloft when the yards swunground; a little confusion ensued; and, with anger on his brow, CaptainClaret came forward to see what occasioned it. No one to let go theweather-lift of the main-yard! The rope was cast off, however, by ahand, and the yards unobstructed, came round.

  When the last rope was coiled, away, the Captain desired to know of theFirst Lieutenant who it might be that was stationed at the weather(then the starboard) main-lift. With a vexed expression of countenancethe First Lieutenant sent a midshipman for the Station Bill, when, uponglancing it over, my own name was found put down at the post inquestion.

  At the time I was on the gun-deck below, and did not know of theseproceedings; but a moment after, I heard the boatswain's mates bawlingmy name at all the hatch-ways, and along all three decks. It was thefirst time I had ever heard it so sent through the furthest recesses ofthe ship, and well knowing what this generally betokened to otherseamen, my heart jumped to my throat, and I hurriedly asked Flute, theboatswain's-mate at the fore-hatchway, what was wanted of me.

  "Captain wants ye at the mast," he replied. "Going to flog ye, I guess."

  "What for?"

  "My eyes! you've been chalking your face, hain't ye?"

  "What am I wanted for?" I repeated.

  But at that instant my name was again thundered forth by the otherboatswain's mate, and Flute hurried me away, hinting that I would soonfind out what the Captain desired of me.

  I swallowed down my heart in me as I touched the spar-deck, for asingle instant balanced myself on my best centre, and then, whollyignorant of what was going to be alleged against me, advanced to thedread tribunal of the frigate.

  As I passed through the gangway, I saw the quarter-master rigging thegratings; the boatswain with his green bag of scourges; themaster-at-arms ready to help off some one's shirt.

  Again I made a desperate swallow of my whole soul in me, and foundmyself standing before Captain Claret. His flushed face obviouslyshowed him in ill-humour. Among the group of officers by his side wasthe First Lieutenant, who, as I came aft, eyed me in such a manner,that I plainly perceived him to be extremely vexed at me for havingbeen the innocent means of reflecting upon the manner in which he keptup the discipline of the ship.

  "Why were you not at your station, sir?" asked the Captain.

  "What station do you mean, sir?" said I.

  It is generally the custom with man-of-war's-men to stand obsequiouslytouching their hat at every sentence they address to the Captain. Butas this was not obligatory upon me by the Articles of War, I did not doso upon the present occasion, and previously, I had never had thedangerous honour of a personal interview with Captain Claret.

  He quickly noticed my omission of the homage usually rendered him, andinstinct told me, that to a certain extent, it set his heart against me.

  "What station, sir, do you mean?" said I.

  "You pretend ignorance," he replied; "it will not help you, sir."

  Glancing at the Captain, the First Lieutenant now produced the StationBill, and read my name in connection with that of the starboardmain-lift.

  "Captain Claret," said I, "it is the first time I ever heard of mybeing assigned to that post."

  "How is this, Mr. Bridewell?" he said, turning to the First Lieutenant,with a fault-finding expression.

  "It is impossible, sir," said that officer, striving to hide hisvexation, "but this man must have known his station."

  "I have never known it before this moment, Captain Claret," said I.

  "Do you contradict my officer?" he returned. "I shall flog you."

  I had now been on board the frigate upward of a year, and remainedunscourged; the ship was homeward-bound, and in a few weeks, at most, Iwould be a free man. And now, after making a hermit of myself in somethings, in order to avoid the possibility of the scourge, here it washanging over me for a thing utterly unforeseen, for a crime of which Iwas as utterly innocent. But all that was as naught. I saw that my casewas hopeless; my solemn disclaimer was thrown in my teeth, and theboatswain's mate stood curling his fingers through the _cat_.

  There are times when wild thoughts enter a man's heart, when he seemsalmost irresponsible for his act and his deed. The Captain stood on theweather-side of the deck. Sideways, on an unobstructed line with him,was the opening of the lee-gangway, where the side-ladders aresuspended in port. Nothing but a slight bit of sinnate-stuff served torail in this opening, which was cut right down to the level of theCaptain's feet, showing the far sea beyond. I stood a little towindward of him, and, though he was a large, powerful man, it wascertain that a sudden rush against him, along the slanting deck, wouldinfallibly pitch him headforemost into the ocean, though he who sorushed must needs go over with him. My blood seemed clotting in myveins; I felt icy cold at the tips of my fingers, and a dimness wasbefore my eyes. But through that dimness the boatswain's mate, scourgein hand, loomed like a giant, and Captain Claret, and the blue sea seenthrough the opening at the gangway, showed with an awful vividness. Icannot analyse my heart, though it then stood still within me. But thething that swayed me to my purpose was not altogether the thought thatCaptain Claret was about to degrade me, and that I had taken an oathwith my soul that he should not. No, I felt my man's manhood sobottomless within me, that no word, no blow, no scourge of CaptainClaret could cut me deep enough for that. I but swung to an instinct inme--the instinct diffused through all animated nature, the same thatprompts even a worm to turn under the heel. Locking souls-with him, Imeant to drag Captain Claret from this earthly tribunal of his to thatof Jehovah and let Him decide between us. No other way could I escapethe scourge.

  Nature has not implanted any power in man that was not meant to beexercised at ti
mes, though too often our powers have been abused. Theprivilege, inborn and inalienable, that every man has of dying himself,and inflicting death upon another, was not given to us without apurpose. These are the last resources of an insulted and unendurableexistence.

  "To the gratings, sir!" said Captain Claret; "do you hear?"

  My eye was measuring the distance between him and the sea.

  "Captain Claret," said a voice advancing from the crowd. I turned tosee who this might be, that audaciously interposed at a juncture likethis. It was the same remarkably handsome and gentlemanly corporal ofmarines, Colbrook, who has been previously alluded to, in the chapterdescribing killing time in a man-of-war.

  "I know that man," said Colbrook, touching his cap, and speaking in amild, firm, but extremely deferential manner; "and I know that he wouldnot be found absent from his station, if he knew where it was."

  This speech was almost unprecedented. Seldom or never before had amarine dared to speak to the Captain of a frigate in behalf of a seamanat the mast. But there was something so unostentatiously commanding inthe calm manner of the man, that the Captain, though astounded, did notin any way reprimand him. The very unusualness of his interferenceseemed Colbrook's protection.

  Taking heart, perhaps, from Colbrook's example, Jack Chase interposed,and in a manly but carefully respectful manner, in substance repeatedthe corporal's remark, adding that he had never found me wanting in thetop.

  The Captain looked from Chase to Colbrook, and from Colbrook toChase--one the foremost man among the seamen, the other the foremostman among the soldiers--then all round upon the packed and silent crew,and, as if a slave to Fate, though supreme Captain of a frigate, heturned to the First Lieutenant, made some indifferent remark, andsaying to me _you may go_, sauntered aft into his cabin; while I, who,in the desperation of my soul, had but just escaped being a murdererand a suicide, almost burst into tears of thanks-giving where I stood.