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diff --git a/15859-0.txt b/15859-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9670a20 --- /dev/null +++ b/15859-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8971 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Piazza Tales, by Herman Melville + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Piazza Tales + +Author: Herman Melville + +Release Date: May 18, 2005 [eBook #15859] +[Most recently updated: January 8, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Dave Maddock, Josephine Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIAZZA TALES *** + + + + +The Piazza Tales + +by Herman Melville + +Author of “Typee,” “Omoo,” etc., etc., etc. + + +New York; +Dix & Edwards, 321 Broadway. +London: Sampson Low, Son & Co. +Miller & Holman, +Printers & Stereotypers, N.Y. + + +1856 + + +Contents + + The Piazza + Bartleby + Benito Cereno + The Lightning-Rod Man + The Encantadas + The Bell-Tower + + + + +THE PIAZZA. + + +“With fairest flowers, +Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele—” + + +When I removed into the country, it was to occupy an old-fashioned +farm-house, which had no piazza—a deficiency the more regretted, +because not only did I like piazzas, as somehow combining the coziness +of in-doors with the freedom of out-doors, and it is so pleasant to +inspect your thermometer there, but the country round about was such a +picture, that in berry time no boy climbs hill or crosses vale without +coming upon easels planted in every nook, and sun-burnt painters +painting there. A very paradise of painters. The circle of the stars +cut by the circle of the mountains. At least, so looks it from the +house; though, once upon the mountains, no circle of them can you see. +Had the site been chosen five rods off, this charmed ring would not +have been. + +The house is old. Seventy years since, from the heart of the Hearth +Stone Hills, they quarried the Kaaba, or Holy Stone, to which, each +Thanksgiving, the social pilgrims used to come. So long ago, that, in +digging for the foundation, the workmen used both spade and axe, +fighting the Troglodytes of those subterranean parts—sturdy roots of a +sturdy wood, encamped upon what is now a long land-slide of sleeping +meadow, sloping away off from my poppy-bed. Of that knit wood, but one +survivor stands—an elm, lonely through steadfastness. + +Whoever built the house, he builded better than he knew; or else Orion +in the zenith flashed down his Damocles’ sword to him some starry +night, and said, “Build there.” For how, otherwise, could it have +entered the builder’s mind, that, upon the clearing being made, such a +purple prospect would be his?—nothing less than Greylock, with all his +hills about him, like Charlemagne among his peers. + +Now, for a house, so situated in such a country, to have no piazza for +the convenience of those who might desire to feast upon the view, and +take their time and ease about it, seemed as much of an omission as if +a picture-gallery should have no bench; for what but picture-galleries +are the marble halls of these same limestone hills?—galleries hung, +month after month anew, with pictures ever fading into pictures ever +fresh. And beauty is like piety—you cannot run and read it; +tranquillity and constancy, with, now-a-days, an easy chair, are +needed. For though, of old, when reverence was in vogue, and indolence +was not, the devotees of Nature, doubtless, used to stand and +adore—just as, in the cathedrals of those ages, the worshipers of a +higher Power did—yet, in these times of failing faith and feeble knees, +we have the piazza and the pew. + +During the first year of my residence, the more leisurely to witness +the coronation of Charlemagne (weather permitting, they crown him every +sunrise and sunset), I chose me, on the hill-side bank near by, a royal +lounge of turf—a green velvet lounge, with long, moss-padded back; +while at the head, strangely enough, there grew (but, I suppose, for +heraldry) three tufts of blue violets in a field-argent of wild +strawberries; and a trellis, with honeysuckle, I set for canopy. Very +majestical lounge, indeed. So much so, that here, as with the reclining +majesty of Denmark in his orchard, a sly ear-ache invaded me. But, if +damps abound at times in Westminster Abbey, because it is so old, why +not within this monastery of mountains, which is older? + +A piazza must be had. + +The house was wide—my fortune narrow; so that, to build a panoramic +piazza, one round and round, it could not be—although, indeed, +considering the matter by rule and square, the carpenters, in the +kindest way, were anxious to gratify my furthest wishes, at I’ve +forgotten how much a foot. + +Upon but one of the four sides would prudence grant me what I wanted. +Now, which side? + +To the east, that long camp of the Hearth Stone Hills, fading far away +towards Quito; and every fall, a small white flake of something peering +suddenly, of a coolish morning, from the topmost cliff—the season’s +new-dropped lamb, its earliest fleece; and then the Christmas dawn, +draping those dim highlands with red-barred plaids and tartans—goodly +sight from your piazza, that. Goodly sight; but, to the north is +Charlemagne—can’t have the Hearth Stone Hills with Charlemagne. + +Well, the south side. Apple-trees are there. Pleasant, of a balmy +morning, in the month of May, to sit and see that orchard, +white-budded, as for a bridal; and, in October, one green arsenal yard; +such piles of ruddy shot. Very fine, I grant; but, to the north is +Charlemagne. + +The west side, look. An upland pasture, alleying away into a maple wood +at top. Sweet, in opening spring, to trace upon the hill-side, +otherwise gray and bare—to trace, I say, the oldest paths by their +streaks of earliest green. Sweet, indeed, I can’t deny; but, to the +north is Charlemagne. + +So Charlemagne, he carried it. It was not long after 1848; and, +somehow, about that time, all round the world, these kings, they had +the casting vote, and voted for themselves. + +No sooner was ground broken, than all the neighborhood, neighbor Dives, +in particular, broke, too—into a laugh. Piazza to the north! Winter +piazza! Wants, of winter midnights, to watch the Aurora Borealis, I +suppose; hope he’s laid in good store of Polar muffs and mittens. + +That was in the lion month of March. Not forgotten are the blue noses +of the carpenters, and how they scouted at the greenness of the cit, +who would build his sole piazza to the north. But March don’t last +forever; patience, and August comes. And then, in the cool elysium of +my northern bower, I, Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom, cast down the hill a +pitying glance on poor old Dives, tormented in the purgatory of his +piazza to the south. + +But, even in December, this northern piazza does not repel—nipping cold +and gusty though it be, and the north wind, like any miller, bolting by +the snow, in finest flour—for then, once more, with frosted beard, I +pace the sleety deck, weathering Cape Horn. + +In summer, too, Canute-like, sitting here, one is often reminded of the +sea. For not only do long ground-swells roll the slanting grain, and +little wavelets of the grass ripple over upon the low piazza, as their +beach, and the blown down of dandelions is wafted like the spray, and +the purple of the mountains is just the purple of the billows, and a +still August noon broods upon the deep meadows, as a calm upon the +Line; but the vastness and the lonesomeness are so oceanic, and the +silence and the sameness, too, that the first peep of a strange house, +rising beyond the trees, is for all the world like spying, on the +Barbary coast, an unknown sail. + +And this recalls my inland voyage to fairy-land. A true voyage; but, +take it all in all, interesting as if invented. + +From the piazza, some uncertain object I had caught, mysteriously +snugged away, to all appearance, in a sort of purpled breast-pocket, +high up in a hopper-like hollow, or sunken angle, among the +northwestern mountains—yet, whether, really, it was on a mountain-side, +or a mountain-top, could not be determined; because, though, viewed +from favorable points, a blue summit, peering up away behind the rest, +will, as it were, talk to you over their heads, and plainly tell you, +that, though he (the blue summit) seems among them, he is not of them +(God forbid!), and, indeed, would have you know that he considers +himself—as, to say truth, he has good right—by several cubits their +superior, nevertheless, certain ranges, here and there double-filed, as +in platoons, so shoulder and follow up upon one another, with their +irregular shapes and heights, that, from the piazza, a nigher and lower +mountain will, in most states of the atmosphere, effacingly shade +itself away into a higher and further one; that an object, bleak on the +former’s crest, will, for all that, appear nested in the latter’s +flank. These mountains, somehow, they play at hide-and-seek, and all +before one’s eyes. + +But, be that as it may, the spot in question was, at all events, so +situated as to be only visible, and then but vaguely, under certain +witching conditions of light and shadow. + +Indeed, for a year or more, I knew not there was such a spot, and +might, perhaps, have never known, had it not been for a wizard +afternoon in autumn—late in autumn—a mad poet’s afternoon; when the +turned maple woods in the broad basin below me, having lost their first +vermilion tint, dully smoked, like smouldering towns, when flames +expire upon their prey; and rumor had it, that this smokiness in the +general air was not all Indian summer—which was not used to be so sick +a thing, however mild—but, in great part, was blown from far-off +forests, for weeks on fire, in Vermont; so that no wonder the sky was +ominous as Hecate’s cauldron—and two sportsmen, crossing a red stubble +buck-wheat field, seemed guilty Macbeth and foreboding Banquo; and the +hermit-sun, hutted in an Adullum cave, well towards the south, +according to his season, did little else but, by indirect reflection of +narrow rays shot down a Simplon pass among the clouds, just steadily +paint one small, round, strawberry mole upon the wan cheek of +northwestern hills. Signal as a candle. One spot of radiance, where all +else was shade. + +Fairies there, thought I; some haunted ring where fairies dance. + +Time passed; and the following May, after a gentle shower upon the +mountains—a little shower islanded in misty seas of sunshine; such a +distant shower—and sometimes two, and three, and four of them, all +visible together in different parts—as I love to watch from the piazza, +instead of thunder storms, as I used to, which wrap old Greylock, like +a Sinai, till one thinks swart Moses must be climbing among scathed +hemlocks there; after, I say, that, gentle shower, I saw a rainbow, +resting its further end just where, in autumn, I had marked the mole. +Fairies there, thought I; remembering that rainbows bring out the +blooms, and that, if one can but get to the rainbow’s end, his fortune +is made in a bag of gold. Yon rainbow’s end, would I were there, +thought I. And none the less I wished it, for now first noticing what +seemed some sort of glen, or grotto, in the mountain side; at least, +whatever it was, viewed through the rainbow’s medium, it glowed like +the Potosi mine. But a work-a-day neighbor said, no doubt it was but +some old barn—an abandoned one, its broadside beaten in, the acclivity +its background. But I, though I had never been there, I knew better. + +A few days after, a cheery sunrise kindled a golden sparkle in the same +spot as before. The sparkle was of that vividness, it seemed as if it +could only come from glass. The building, then—if building, after all, +it was—could, at least, not be a barn, much less an abandoned one; +stale hay ten years musting in it. No; if aught built by mortal, it +must be a cottage; perhaps long vacant and dismantled, but this very +spring magically fitted up and glazed. + +Again, one noon, in the same direction, I marked, over dimmed tops of +terraced foliage, a broader gleam, as of a silver buckler, held +sunwards over some croucher’s head; which gleam, experience in like +cases taught, must come from a roof newly shingled. This, to me, made +pretty sure the recent occupancy of that far cot in fairy land. + +Day after day, now, full of interest in my discovery, what time I could +spare from reading the Midsummer’s Night Dream, and all about Titania, +wishfully I gazed off towards the hills; but in vain. Either troops of +shadows, an imperial guard, with slow pace and solemn, defiled along +the steeps; or, routed by pursuing light, fled broadcast from east to +west—old wars of Lucifer and Michael; or the mountains, though unvexed +by these mirrored sham fights in the sky, had an atmosphere otherwise +unfavorable for fairy views. I was sorry; the more so, because I had to +keep my chamber for some time after—which chamber did not face those +hills. + +At length, when pretty well again, and sitting out, in the September +morning, upon the piazza, and thinking to myself, when, just after a +little flock of sheep, the farmer’s banded children passed, a-nutting, +and said, “How sweet a day”—it was, after all, but what their fathers +call a weather-breeder—and, indeed, was become so sensitive through my +illness, as that I could not bear to look upon a Chinese creeper of my +adoption, and which, to my delight, climbing a post of the piazza, had +burst out in starry bloom, but now, if you removed the leaves a little, +showed millions of strange, cankerous worms, which, feeding upon those +blossoms, so shared their blessed hue, as to make it unblessed +evermore—worms, whose germs had doubtless lurked in the very bulb +which, so hopefully, I had planted: in this ingrate peevishness of my +weary convalescence, was I sitting there; when, suddenly looking off, I +saw the golden mountain-window, dazzling like a deep-sea dolphin. +Fairies there, thought I, once more; the queen of fairies at her +fairy-window; at any rate, some glad mountain-girl; it will do me good, +it will cure this weariness, to look on her. No more; I’ll launch my +yawl—ho, cheerly, heart! and push away for fairy-land—for rainbow’s +end, in fairy-land. + +How to get to fairy-land, by what road, I did not know; nor could any +one inform me; not even one Edmund Spenser, who had been there—so he +wrote me—further than that to reach fairy-land, it must be voyaged to, +and with faith. I took the fairy-mountain’s bearings, and the first +fine day, when strength permitted, got into my yawl—high-pommeled, +leather one—cast off the fast, and away I sailed, free voyager as an +autumn leaf. Early dawn; and, sallying westward, I sowed the morning +before me. + +Some miles brought me nigh the hills; but out of present sight of them. +I was not lost; for road-side golden-rods, as guide-posts, pointed, I +doubted not, the way to the golden window. Following them, I came to a +lone and languid region, where the grass-grown ways were traveled but +by drowsy cattle, that, less waked than stirred by day, seemed to walk +in sleep. Browse, they did not—the enchanted never eat. At least, so +says Don Quixote, that sagest sage that ever lived. + +On I went, and gained at last the fairy mountain’s base, but saw yet no +fairy ring. A pasture rose before me. Letting down five mouldering +bars—so moistly green, they seemed fished up from some sunken wreck—a +wigged old Aries, long-visaged, and with crumpled horn, came snuffing +up; and then, retreating, decorously led on along a milky-way of +white-weed, past dim-clustering Pleiades and Hyades, of small +forget-me-nots; and would have led me further still his astral path, +but for golden flights of yellow-birds—pilots, surely, to the golden +window, to one side flying before me, from bush to bush, towards deep +woods—which woods themselves were luring—and, somehow, lured, too, by +their fence, banning a dark road, which, however dark, led up. I pushed +through; when Aries, renouncing me now for some lost soul, wheeled, and +went his wiser way. Forbidding and forbidden ground—to him. + +A winter wood road, matted all along with winter-green. By the side of +pebbly waters—waters the cheerier for their solitude; beneath swaying +fir-boughs, petted by no season, but still green in all, on I +journeyed—my horse and I; on, by an old saw-mill, bound down and hushed +with vines, that his grating voice no more was heard; on, by a deep +flume clove through snowy marble, vernal-tinted, where freshet eddies +had, on each side, spun out empty chapels in the living rock; on, where +Jacks-in-the-pulpit, like their Baptist namesake, preached but to the +wilderness; on, where a huge, cross-grain block, fern-bedded, showed +where, in forgotten times, man after man had tried to split it, but +lost his wedges for his pains—which wedges yet rusted in their holes; +on, where, ages past, in step-like ledges of a cascade, skull-hollow +pots had been churned out by ceaseless whirling of a flintstone—ever +wearing, but itself unworn; on, by wild rapids pouring into a secret +pool, but soothed by circling there awhile, issued forth serenely; on, +to less broken ground, and by a little ring, where, truly, fairies must +have danced, or else some wheel-tire been heated—for all was bare; +still on, and up, and out into a hanging orchard, where maidenly looked +down upon me a crescent moon, from morning. + +My horse hitched low his head. Red apples rolled before him; Eve’s +apples; seek-no-furthers. He tasted one, I another; it tasted of the +ground. Fairy land not yet, thought I, flinging my bridle to a humped +old tree, that crooked out an arm to catch it. For the way now lay +where path was none, and none might go but by himself, and only go by +daring. Through blackberry brakes that tried to pluck me back, though I +but strained towards fruitless growths of mountain-laurel; up slippery +steeps to barren heights, where stood none to welcome. Fairy land not +yet, thought I, though the morning is here before me. + +Foot-sore enough and weary, I gained not then my journey’s end, but +came ere long to a craggy pass, dipping towards growing regions still +beyond. A zigzag road, half overgrown with blueberry bushes, here +turned among the cliffs. A rent was in their ragged sides; through it a +little track branched off, which, upwards threading that short defile, +came breezily out above, to where the mountain-top, part sheltered +northward, by a taller brother, sloped gently off a space, ere darkly +plunging; and here, among fantastic rocks, reposing in a herd, the +foot-track wound, half beaten, up to a little, low-storied, grayish +cottage, capped, nun-like, with a peaked roof. + +On one slope, the roof was deeply weather-stained, and, nigh the turfy +eaves-trough, all velvet-napped; no doubt the snail-monks founded mossy +priories there. The other slope was newly shingled. On the north side, +doorless and windowless, the clap-boards, innocent of paint, were yet +green as the north side of lichened pines or copperless hulls of +Japanese junks, becalmed. The whole base, like those of the neighboring +rocks, was rimmed about with shaded streaks of richest sod; for, with +hearth-stones in fairy land, the natural rock, though housed, preserves +to the last, just as in open fields, its fertilizing charm; only, by +necessity, working now at a remove, to the sward without. So, at least, +says Oberon, grave authority in fairy lore. Though setting Oberon +aside, certain it is, that, even in the common world, the soil, close +up to farm-houses, as close up to pasture rocks, is, even though +untended, ever richer than it is a few rods off—such gentle, nurturing +heat is radiated there. + +But with this cottage, the shaded streaks were richest in its front and +about its entrance, where the ground-sill, and especially the doorsill +had, through long eld, quietly settled down. + +No fence was seen, no inclosure. Near by—ferns, ferns, ferns; +further—woods, woods, woods; beyond—mountains, mountains, mountains; +then—sky, sky, sky. Turned out in aerial commons, pasture for the +mountain moon. Nature, and but nature, house and, all; even a low +cross-pile of silver birch, piled openly, to season; up among whose +silvery sticks, as through the fencing of some sequestered grave, +sprang vagrant raspberry bushes—willful assertors of their right of +way. + +The foot-track, so dainty narrow, just like a sheep-track, led through +long ferns that lodged. Fairy land at last, thought I; Una and her lamb +dwell here. Truly, a small abode—mere palanquin, set down on the +summit, in a pass between two worlds, participant of neither. + +A sultry hour, and I wore a light hat, of yellow sinnet, with white +duck trowsers—both relics of my tropic sea-going. Clogged in the +muffling ferns, I softly stumbled, staining the knees a sea-green. + +Pausing at the threshold, or rather where threshold once had been, I +saw, through the open door-way, a lonely girl, sewing at a lonely +window. A pale-cheeked girl, and fly-specked window, with wasps about +the mended upper panes. I spoke. She shyly started, like some Tahiti +girl, secreted for a sacrifice, first catching sight, through palms, of +Captain Cook. Recovering, she bade me enter; with her apron brushed off +a stool; then silently resumed her own. With thanks I took the stool; +but now, for a space, I, too, was mute. This, then, is the +fairy-mountain house, and here, the fairy queen sitting at her fairy +window. + +I went up to it. Downwards, directed by the tunneled pass, as through a +leveled telescope, I caught sight of a far-off, soft, azure world. I +hardly knew it, though I came from it. + +“You must find this view very pleasant,” said I, at last. + +“Oh, sir,” tears starting in her eyes, “the first time I looked out of +this window, I said ‘never, never shall I weary of this.’” + +“And what wearies you of it now?” + +“I don’t know,” while a tear fell; “but it is not the view, it is +Marianna.” + +Some months back, her brother, only seventeen, had come hither, a long +way from the other side, to cut wood and burn coal, and she, elder +sister, had accompanied, him. Long had they been orphans, and now, sole +inhabitants of the sole house upon the mountain. No guest came, no +traveler passed. The zigzag, perilous road was only used at seasons by +the coal wagons. The brother was absent the entire day, sometimes the +entire night. When at evening, fagged out, he did come home, he soon +left his bench, poor fellow, for his bed; just as one, at last, wearily +quits that, too, for still deeper rest. The bench, the bed, the grave. + +Silent I stood by the fairy window, while these things were being told. + +“Do you know,” said she at last, as stealing from her story, “do you +know who lives yonder?—I have never been down into that country—away +off there, I mean; that house, that marble one,” pointing far across +the lower landscape; “have you not caught it? there, on the long +hill-side: the field before, the woods behind; the white shines out +against their blue; don’t you mark it? the only house in sight.” + +I looked; and after a time, to my surprise, recognized, more by its +position than its aspect, or Marianna’s description, my own abode, +glimmering much like this mountain one from the piazza. The mirage haze +made it appear less a farm-house than King Charming’s palace. + +“I have often wondered who lives there; but it must be some happy one; +again this morning was I thinking so.” + +“Some happy one,” returned I, starting; “and why do you think that? You +judge some rich one lives there?” + +“Rich or not, I never thought; but it looks so happy, I can’t tell how; +and it is so far away. Sometimes I think I do but dream it is there. +You should see it in a sunset.” + +“No doubt the sunset gilds it finely; but not more than the sunrise +does this house, perhaps.” + +“This house? The sun is a good sun, but it never gilds this house. Why +should it? This old house is rotting. That makes it so mossy. In the +morning, the sun comes in at this old window, to be sure—boarded up, +when first we came; a window I can’t keep clean, do what I may—and half +burns, and nearly blinds me at my sewing, besides setting the flies and +wasps astir—such flies and wasps as only lone mountain houses know. +See, here is the curtain—this apron—I try to shut it out with then. It +fades it, you see. Sun gild this house? not that ever Marianna saw.” + +“Because when this roof is gilded most, then you stay here within.” + +“The hottest, weariest hour of day, you mean? Sir, the sun gilds not +this roof. It leaked so, brother newly shingled all one side. Did you +not see it? The north side, where the sun strikes most on what the rain +has wetted. The sun is a good sun; but this roof, in first scorches, +and then rots. An old house. They went West, and are long dead, they +say, who built it. A mountain house. In winter no fox could den in it. +That chimney-place has been blocked up with snow, just like a hollow +stump.” + +“Yours are strange fancies, Marianna.” + +“They but reflect the things.” + +“Then I should have said, ‘These are strange things,’ rather than, +‘Yours are strange fancies.’” + +“As you will;” and took up her sewing. + +Something in those quiet words, or in that quiet act, it made me mute +again; while, noting, through the fairy window, a broad shadow stealing +on, as cast by some gigantic condor, floating at brooding poise on +outstretched wings, I marked how, by its deeper and inclusive dusk, it +wiped away into itself all lesser shades of rock or fern. + +“You watch the cloud,” said Marianna. + +“No, a shadow; a cloud’s, no doubt—though that I cannot see. How did +you know it? Your eyes are on your work.” + +“It dusked my work. There, now the cloud is gone, Tray comes back.” + +“How?” + +“The dog, the shaggy dog. At noon, he steals off, of himself, to change +his shape—returns, and lies down awhile, nigh the door. Don’t you see +him? His head is turned round at you; though, when you came, he looked +before him.” + +“Your eyes rest but on your work; what do you speak of?” + +“By the window, crossing.” + +“You mean this shaggy shadow—the nigh one? And, yes, now that I mark +it, it is not unlike a large, black Newfoundland dog. The invading +shadow gone, the invaded one returns. But I do not see what casts it.” + +“For that, you must go without.” + +“One of those grassy rocks, no doubt.” + +“You see his head, his face?” + +“The shadow’s? You speak as if _you_ saw it, and all the time your eyes +are on your work.” + +“Tray looks at you,” still without glancing up; “this is his hour; I +see him.” + +“Have you then, so long sat at this mountain-window, where but clouds +and, vapors pass, that, to you, shadows are as things, though you speak +of them as of phantoms; that, by familiar knowledge, working like a +second sight, you can, without looking for them, tell just where they +are, though, as having mice-like feet, they creep about, and come and +go; that, to you, these lifeless shadows are as living friends, who, +though out of sight, are not out of mind, even in their faces—is it +so?” + +“That way I never thought of it. But the friendliest one, that used to +soothe my weariness so much, coolly quivering on the ferns, it was +taken from me, never to return, as Tray did just now. The shadow of a +birch. The tree was struck by lightning, and brother cut it up. You saw +the cross-pile out-doors—the buried root lies under it; but not the +shadow. That is flown, and never will come back, nor ever anywhere stir +again.” + +Another cloud here stole along, once more blotting out the dog, and +blackening all the mountain; while the stillness was so still, deafness +might have forgot itself, or else believed that noiseless shadow spoke. + +“Birds, Marianna, singing-birds, I hear none; I hear nothing. Boys and +bob-o-links, do they never come a-berrying up here?” + +“Birds, I seldom hear; boys, never. The berries mostly ripe and +fall—few, but me, the wiser.” + +“But yellow-birds showed me the way—part way, at least.” + +“And then flew back. I guess they play about the mountain-side, but +don’t make the top their home. And no doubt you think that, living so +lonesome here, knowing nothing, hearing nothing—little, at least, but +sound of thunder and the fall of trees—never reading, seldom speaking, +yet ever wakeful, this is what gives me my strange thoughts—for so you +call them—this weariness and wakefulness together Brother, who stands +and works in open air, would I could rest like him; but mine is mostly +but dull woman’s work—sitting, sitting, restless sitting.” + +“But, do you not go walk at times? These woods are wide.” + +“And lonesome; lonesome, because so wide. Sometimes, ’tis true, of +afternoons, I go a little way; but soon come back again. Better feel +lone by hearth, than rock. The shadows hereabouts I know—those in the +woods are strangers.” + +“But the night?” + +“Just like the day. Thinking, thinking—a wheel I cannot stop; pure want +of sleep it is that turns it.” + +“I have heard that, for this wakeful weariness, to say one’s prayers, +and then lay one’s head upon a fresh hop pillow—” + +“Look!” + +Through the fairy window, she pointed down the steep to a small garden +patch near by—mere pot of rifled loam, half rounded in by sheltering +rocks—where, side by side, some feet apart, nipped and puny, two +hop-vines climbed two poles, and, gaining their tip-ends, would have +then joined over in an upward clasp, but the baffled shoots, groping +awhile in empty air, trailed back whence they sprung. + +“You have tried the pillow, then?” + +“Yes.” + +“And prayer?” + +“Prayer and pillow.” + +“Is there no other cure, or charm?” + +“Oh, if I could but once get to yonder house, and but look upon whoever +the happy being is that lives there! A foolish thought: why do I think +it? Is it that I live so lonesome, and know nothing?” + +“I, too, know nothing; and, therefore, cannot answer; but, for your +sake, Marianna, well could wish that I were that happy one of the happy +house you dream you see; for then you would behold him now, and, as you +say, this weariness might leave you.” + +—Enough. Launching my yawl no more for fairy-land, I stick to the +piazza. It is my box-royal; and this amphitheatre, my theatre of San +Carlo. Yes, the scenery is magical—the illusion so complete. And Madam +Meadow Lark, my prima donna, plays her grand engagement here; and, +drinking in her sunrise note, which, Memnon-like, seems struck from the +golden window, how far from me the weary face behind it. + +But, every night, when the curtain falls, truth comes in with darkness. +No light shows from the mountain. To and fro I walk the piazza deck, +haunted by Marianna’s face, and many as real a story. + + + + +BARTLEBY. + + +I am a rather elderly man. The nature of my avocations, for the last +thirty years, has brought me into more than ordinary contact with what +would seem an interesting and somewhat singular set of men, of whom, as +yet, nothing, that I know of, has ever been written—I mean, the +law-copyists, or scriveners. I have known very many of them, +professionally and privately, and, if I pleased, could relate divers +histories, at which good-natured gentlemen might smile, and sentimental +souls might weep. But I waive the biographies of all other scriveners, +for a few passages in the life of Bartleby, who was a scrivener, the +strangest I ever saw, or heard of. While, of other law-copyists, I +might write the complete life, of Bartleby nothing of that sort can be +done. I believe that no materials exist, for a full and satisfactory +biography of this man. It is an irreparable loss to literature. +Bartleby was one of those beings of whom nothing is ascertainable, +except from the original sources, and, in his case, those are very +small. What my own astonished eyes saw of Bartleby, _that_ is all I +know of him, except, indeed, one vague report, which will appear in the +sequel. + +Ere introducing the scrivener, as he first appeared to me, it is fit I +make some mention of myself, my _employés_, my business, my chambers, +and general surroundings; because some such description is +indispensable to an adequate understanding of the chief character about +to be presented. Imprimis: I am a man who, from his youth upwards, has +been filled with a profound conviction that the easiest way of life is +the best. Hence, though I belong to a profession proverbially energetic +and nervous, even to turbulence, at times, yet nothing of that sort +have I ever suffered to invade my peace. I am one of those unambitious +lawyers who never addresses a jury, or in any way draws down public +applause; but, in the cool tranquillity of a snug retreat, do a snug +business among rich men’s bonds, and mortgages, and title-deeds. All +who know me, consider me an eminently _safe_ man. The late John Jacob +Astor, a personage little given to poetic enthusiasm, had no hesitation +in pronouncing my first grand point to be prudence; my next, method. I +do not speak it in vanity, but simply record the fact, that I was not +unemployed in my profession by the late John Jacob Astor; a name which, +I admit, I love to repeat; for it hath a rounded and orbicular sound to +it, and rings like unto bullion. I will freely add, that I was not +insensible to the late John Jacob Astor’s good opinion. + +Some time prior to the period at which this little history begins, my +avocations had been largely increased. The good old office, now extinct +in the State of New York, of a Master in Chancery, had been conferred +upon me. It was not a very arduous office, but very pleasantly +remunerative. I seldom lose my temper; much more seldom indulge in +dangerous indignation at wrongs and outrages; but, I must be permitted +to be rash here, and declare, that I consider the sudden and violent +abrogation of the office of Master in Chancery, by the new +Constitution, as a —— premature act; inasmuch as I had counted upon a +life-lease of the profits, whereas I only received those of a few short +years. But this is by the way. + +My chambers were up stairs, at No. —— Wall street. At one end, they +looked upon the white wall of the interior of a spacious skylight +shaft, penetrating the building from top to bottom. + +This view might have been considered rather tame than otherwise, +deficient in what landscape painters call “life.” But, if so, the view +from the other end of my chambers offered, at least, a contrast, if +nothing more. In that direction, my windows commanded an unobstructed +view of a lofty brick wall, black by age and everlasting shade; which +wall required no spy-glass to bring out its lurking beauties, but, for +the benefit of all near-sighted spectators, was pushed up to within ten +feet of my window panes. Owing to the great height of the surrounding +buildings, and my chambers being on the second floor, the interval +between this wall and mine not a little resembled a huge square +cistern. + +At the period just preceding the advent of Bartleby, I had two persons +as copyists in my employment, and a promising lad as an office-boy. +First, Turkey; second, Nippers; third, Ginger Nut. These may seem +names, the like of which are not usually found in the Directory. In +truth, they were nicknames, mutually conferred upon each other by my +three clerks, and were deemed expressive of their respective persons or +characters. Turkey was a short, pursy Englishman, of about my own +age—that is, somewhere not far from sixty. In the morning, one might +say, his face was of a fine florid hue, but after twelve o’clock, +meridian—his dinner hour—it blazed like a grate full of Christmas +coals; and continued blazing—but, as it were, with a gradual wane—till +six o’clock, P.M., or thereabouts; after which, I saw no more of the +proprietor of the face, which, gaining its meridian with the sun, +seemed to set with it, to rise, culminate, and decline the following +day, with the like regularity and undiminished glory. There are many +singular coincidences I have known in the course of my life, not the +least among which was the fact, that, exactly when Turkey displayed his +fullest beams from his red and radiant countenance, just then, too, at +that critical moment, began the daily period when I considered his +business capacities as seriously disturbed for the remainder of the +twenty-four hours. Not that he was absolutely idle, or averse to +business, then; far from it. The difficulty was, he was apt to be +altogether too energetic. There was a strange, inflamed, flurried, +flighty recklessness of activity about him. He would be incautious in +dipping his pen into his inkstand. All his blots upon my documents were +dropped there after twelve o’clock, meridian. Indeed, not only would he +be reckless, and sadly given to making blots in the afternoon, but, +some days, he went further, and was rather noisy. At such times, too, +his face flamed with augmented blazonry, as if cannel coal had been +heaped on anthracite. He made an unpleasant racket with his chair; +spilled his sand-box; in mending his pens, impatiently split them all +to pieces, and threw them on the floor in a sudden passion; stood up, +and leaned over his table, boxing his papers about in a most indecorous +manner, very sad to behold in an elderly man like him. Nevertheless, as +he was in many ways a most valuable person to me, and all the time +before twelve o’clock, meridian, was the quickest, steadiest creature, +too, accomplishing a great deal of work in a style not easily to be +matched—for these reasons, I was willing to overlook his +eccentricities, though, indeed, occasionally, I remonstrated with him. +I did this very gently, however, because, though the civilest, nay, the +blandest and most reverential of men in the morning, yet, in the +afternoon, he was disposed, upon provocation, to be slightly rash with +his tongue—in fact, insolent. Now, valuing his morning services as I +did, and resolved not to lose them—yet, at the same time, made +uncomfortable by his inflamed ways after twelve o’clock—and being a man +of peace, unwilling by my admonitions to call forth unseemly retorts +from him, I took upon me, one Saturday noon (he was always worse on +Saturdays) to hint to him, very kindly, that, perhaps, now that he was +growing old, it might be well to abridge his labors; in short, he need +not come to my chambers after twelve o’clock, but, dinner over, had +best go home to his lodgings, and rest himself till tea-time. But no; +he insisted upon his afternoon devotions. His countenance became +intolerably fervid, as he oratorically assured me—gesticulating with a +long ruler at the other end of the room—that if his services in the +morning were useful, how indispensable, then, in the afternoon? + +“With submission, sir,” said Turkey, on this occasion, “I consider +myself your right-hand man. In the morning I but marshal and deploy my +columns; but in the afternoon I put myself at their head, and gallantly +charge the foe, thus”—and he made a violent thrust with the ruler. + +“But the blots, Turkey,” intimated I. + +“True; but, with submission, sir, behold these hairs! I am getting old. +Surely, sir, a blot or two of a warm afternoon is not to be severely +urged against gray hairs. Old age—even if it blot the page—is +honorable. With submission, sir, we _both_ are getting old.” + +This appeal to my fellow-feeling was hardly to be resisted. At all +events, I saw that go he would not. So, I made up my mind to let him +stay, resolving, nevertheless, to see to it that, during the afternoon, +he had to do with my less important papers. + +Nippers, the second on my list, was a whiskered, sallow, and, upon the +whole, rather piratical-looking young man, of about five and twenty. I +always deemed him the victim of two evil powers—ambition and +indigestion. The ambition was evinced by a certain impatience of the +duties of a mere copyist, an unwarrantable usurpation of strictly +professional affairs, such as the original drawing up of legal +documents. The indigestion seemed betokened in an occasional nervous +testiness and grinning irritability, causing the teeth to audibly grind +together over mistakes committed in copying; unnecessary maledictions, +hissed, rather than spoken, in the heat of business; and especially by +a continual discontent with the height of the table where he worked. +Though of a very ingenious mechanical turn, Nippers could never get +this table to suit him. He put chips under it, blocks of various sorts, +bits of pasteboard, and at last went so far as to attempt an exquisite +adjustment, by final pieces of folded blotting-paper. But no invention +would answer. If, for the sake of easing his back, he brought the table +lid at a sharp angle well up towards his chin, and wrote, there like a +man using the steep roof of a Dutch house for his desk, then he +declared that it stopped the circulation in his arms. If now he lowered +the table to his waistbands, and stooped over it in writing, then there +was a sore aching in his back. In short, the truth of the matter was, +Nippers knew not what he wanted. Or, if he wanted anything, it was to +be rid of a scrivener’s table altogether. Among the manifestations of +his diseased ambition was a fondness he had for receiving visits from +certain ambiguous-looking fellows in seedy coats, whom he called his +clients. Indeed, I was aware that not only was he, at times, +considerable of a ward-politician, but he occasionally did a little +business at the Justices’ courts, and was not unknown on the steps of +the Tombs. I have good reason to believe, however, that one individual +who called upon him at my chambers, and who, with a grand air, he +insisted was his client, was no other than a dun, and the alleged +title-deed, a bill. But, with all his failings, and the annoyances he +caused me, Nippers, like his compatriot Turkey, was a very useful man +to me; wrote a neat, swift hand; and, when he chose, was not deficient +in a gentlemanly sort of deportment. Added to this, he always dressed +in a gentlemanly sort of way; and so, incidentally, reflected credit +upon my chambers. Whereas, with respect to Turkey, I had much ado to +keep him from being a reproach to me. His clothes were apt to look +oily, and smell of eating-houses. He wore his pantaloons very loose and +baggy in summer. His coats were execrable; his hat not to be handled. +But while the hat was a thing of indifference to me, inasmuch as his +natural civility and deference, as a dependent Englishman, always led +him to doff it the moment he entered the room, yet his coat was another +matter. Concerning his coats, I reasoned with him; but with no effect. +The truth was, I suppose, that a man with so small an income could not +afford to sport such a lustrous face and a lustrous coat at one and the +same time. As Nippers once observed, Turkey’s money went chiefly for +red ink. One winter day, I presented Turkey with a highly +respectable-looking coat of my own—a padded gray coat, of a most +comfortable warmth, and which buttoned straight up from the knee to the +neck. I thought Turkey would appreciate the favor, and abate his +rashness and obstreperousness of afternoons. But no; I verily believe +that buttoning himself up in so downy and blanket-like a coat had a +pernicious effect upon him—upon the same principle that too much oats +are bad for horses. In fact, precisely as a rash, restive horse is said +to feel his oats, so Turkey felt his coat. It made him insolent. He was +a man whom prosperity harmed. + +Though, concerning the self-indulgent habits of Turkey, I had my own +private surmises, yet, touching Nippers, I was well persuaded that, +whatever might be his faults in other respects, he was, at least, a +temperate young man. But, indeed, nature herself seemed to have been +his vintner, and, at his birth, charged him so thoroughly with an +irritable, brandy-like disposition, that all subsequent potations were +needless. When I consider how, amid the stillness of my chambers, +Nippers would sometimes impatiently rise from his seat, and stooping +over his table, spread his arms wide apart, seize the whole desk, and +move it, and jerk it, with a grim, grinding motion on the floor, as if +the table were a perverse voluntary agent, intent on thwarting and +vexing him, I plainly perceive that, for Nippers, brandy-and-water were +altogether superfluous. + +It was fortunate for me that, owing to its peculiar +cause—indigestion—the irritability and consequent nervousness of +Nippers were mainly observable in the morning, while in the afternoon +he was comparatively mild. So that, Turkey’s paroxysms only coming on +about twelve o’clock, I never had to do with their eccentricities at +one time. Their fits relieved each other, like guards. When Nippers’s +was on, Turkey’s was off; and _vice versa_. This was a good natural +arrangement, under the circumstances. + +Ginger Nut, the third on my list, was a lad, some twelve years old. +His, father was a carman, ambitious of seeing his son on the bench +instead of a cart, before he died. So he sent him to my office, as +student at law, errand-boy, cleaner and sweeper, at the rate of one +dollar a week. He had a little desk to himself, but he did not use it +much. Upon inspection, the drawer exhibited a great array of the shells +of various sorts of nuts. Indeed, to this quick-witted youth, the whole +noble science of the law was contained in a nut-shell. Not the least +among the employments of Ginger Nut, as well as one which he discharged +with the most alacrity, was his duty as cake and apple purveyor for +Turkey and Nippers. Copying law-papers being proverbially a dry, husky +sort of business, my two scriveners were fain to moisten their mouths +very often with Spitzenbergs, to be had at the numerous stalls nigh the +Custom House and Post Office. Also, they sent Ginger Nut very +frequently for that peculiar cake—small, flat, round, and very +spicy—after which he had been named by them. Of a cold morning, when +business was but dull, Turkey would gobble up scores of these cakes, as +if they were mere wafers—indeed, they sell them at the rate of six or +eight for a penny—the scrape of his pen blending with the crunching of +the crisp particles in his mouth. Of all the fiery afternoon blunders +and flurried rashnesses of Turkey, was his once moistening a +ginger-cake between his lips, and clapping it on to a mortgage, for a +seal. I came within an ace of dismissing him then. But he mollified me +by making an oriental bow, and saying— + +“With submission, sir, it was generous of me to find you in stationery +on my own account.” + +Now my original business—that of a conveyancer and title hunter, and +drawer-up of recondite documents of all sorts—was considerably +increased by receiving the master’s office. There was now great work +for scriveners. Not only must I push the clerks already with me, but I +must have additional help. + +In answer to my advertisement, a motionless young man one morning stood +upon my office threshold, the door being open, for it was summer. I can +see that figure now—pallidly neat, pitiably respectable, incurably +forlorn! It was Bartleby. + +After a few words touching his qualifications, I engaged him, glad to +have among my corps of copyists a man of so singularly sedate an +aspect, which I thought might operate beneficially upon the flighty +temper of Turkey, and the fiery one of Nippers. + +I should have stated before that ground glass folding-doors divided my +premises into two parts, one of which was occupied by my scriveners, +the other by myself. According to my humor, I threw open these doors, +or closed them. I resolved to assign Bartleby a corner by the +folding-doors, but on my side of them, so as to have this quiet man +within easy call, in case any trifling thing was to be done. I placed +his desk close up to a small side-window in that part of the room, a +window which originally had afforded a lateral view of certain grimy +backyards and bricks, but which, owing to subsequent erections, +commanded at present no view at all, though it gave some light. Within +three feet of the panes was a wall, and the light came down from far +above, between two lofty buildings, as from a very small opening in a +dome. Still further to a satisfactory arrangement, I procured a high +green folding screen, which might entirely isolate Bartleby from my +sight, though not remove him from my voice. And thus, in a manner, +privacy and society were conjoined. + +At first, Bartleby did an extraordinary quantity of writing. As if long +famishing for something to copy, he seemed to gorge himself on my +documents. There was no pause for digestion. He ran a day and night +line, copying by sun-light and by candle-light. I should have been +quite delighted with his application, had he been cheerfully +industrious. But he wrote on silently, palely, mechanically. + +It is, of course, an indispensable part of a scrivener’s business to +verify the accuracy of his copy, word by word. Where there are two or +more scriveners in an office, they assist each other in this +examination, one reading from the copy, the other holding the original. +It is a very dull, wearisome, and lethargic affair. I can readily +imagine that, to some sanguine temperaments, it would be altogether +intolerable. For example, I cannot credit that the mettlesome poet, +Byron, would have contentedly sat down with Bartleby to examine a law +document of, say five hundred pages, closely written in a crimpy hand. + +Now and then, in the haste of business, it had been my habit to assist +in comparing some brief document myself, calling Turkey or Nippers for +this purpose. One object I had, in placing Bartleby so handy to me +behind the screen, was, to avail myself of his services on such trivial +occasions. It was on the third day, I think, of his being with me, and +before any necessity had arisen for having his own writing examined, +that, being much hurried to complete a small affair I had in hand, I +abruptly called to Bartleby. In my haste and natural expectancy of +instant compliance, I sat with my head bent over the original on my +desk, and my right hand sideways, and somewhat nervously extended with +the copy, so that, immediately upon emerging from his retreat, Bartleby +might snatch it and proceed to business without the least delay. + +In this very attitude did I sit when I called to him, rapidly stating +what it was I wanted him to do—namely, to examine a small paper with +me. Imagine my surprise, nay, my consternation, when, without moving +from his privacy, Bartleby, in a singularly mild, firm voice, replied, +“I would prefer not to.” + +I sat awhile in perfect silence, rallying my stunned faculties. +Immediately it occurred to me that my ears had deceived me, or Bartleby +had entirely misunderstood my meaning. I repeated my request in the +clearest tone I could assume; but in quite as clear a one came the +previous reply, “I would prefer not to.” + +“Prefer not to,” echoed I, rising in high excitement, and crossing the +room with a stride. “What do you mean? Are you moon-struck? I want you +to help me compare this sheet here—take it,” and I thrust it towards +him. + +“I would prefer not to,” said he. + +I looked at him steadfastly. His face was leanly composed; his gray eye +dimly calm. Not a wrinkle of agitation rippled him. Had there been the +least uneasiness, anger, impatience or impertinence in his manner; in +other words, had there been any thing ordinarily human about him, +doubtless I should have violently dismissed him from the premises. But +as it was, I should have as soon thought of turning my pale +plaster-of-paris bust of Cicero out of doors. I stood gazing at him +awhile, as he went on with his own writing, and then reseated myself at +my desk. This is very strange, thought I. What had one best do? But my +business hurried me. I concluded to forget the matter for the present, +reserving it for my future leisure. So calling Nippers from the other +room, the paper was speedily examined. + +A few days after this, Bartleby concluded four lengthy documents, being +quadruplicates of a week’s testimony taken before me in my High Court +of Chancery. It became necessary to examine them. It was an important +suit, and great accuracy was imperative. Having all things arranged, I +called Turkey, Nippers and Ginger Nut, from the next room, meaning to +place the four copies in the hands of my four clerks, while I should +read from the original. Accordingly, Turkey, Nippers, and Ginger Nut +had taken their seats in a row, each with his document in his hand, +when I called to Bartleby to join this interesting group. + +“Bartleby! quick, I am waiting.” + +I heard a slow scrape of his chair legs on the uncarpeted floor, and +soon he appeared standing at the entrance of his hermitage. + +“What is wanted?” said he, mildly. + +“The copies, the copies,” said I, hurriedly. “We are going to examine +them. There”—and I held towards him the fourth quadruplicate. + +“I would prefer not to,” he said, and gently disappeared behind the +screen. + +For a few moments I was turned into a pillar of salt, standing at the +head of my seated column of clerks. Recovering myself, I advanced +towards the screen, and demanded the reason for such extraordinary +conduct. + +“_Why_ do you refuse?” + +“I would prefer not to.” + +With any other man I should have flown outright into a dreadful +passion, scorned all further words, and thrust him ignominiously from +my presence. But there was something about Bartleby that not only +strangely disarmed me, but, in a wonderful manner, touched and +disconcerted me. I began to reason with him. + +“These are your own copies we are about to examine. It is labor saving +to you, because one examination will answer for your four papers. It is +common usage. Every copyist is bound to help examine his copy. Is it +not so? Will you not speak? Answer!” + +“I prefer not to,” he replied in a flutelike tone. It seemed to me +that, while I had been addressing him, he carefully revolved every +statement that I made; fully comprehended the meaning; could not +gainsay the irresistible conclusion; but, at the same time, some +paramount consideration prevailed with him to reply as he did. + +“You are decided, then, not to comply with my request—a request made +according to common usage and common sense?” + +He briefly gave me to understand, that on that point my judgment was +sound. Yes: his decision was irreversible. + +It is not seldom the case that, when a man is browbeaten in some +unprecedented and violently unreasonable way, he begins to stagger in +his own plainest faith. He begins, as it were, vaguely to surmise that, +wonderful as it may be, all the justice and all the reason is on the +other side. Accordingly, if any disinterested persons are present, he +turns to them for some reinforcement for his own faltering mind. + +“Turkey,” said I, “what do you think of this? Am I not right?” + +“With submission, sir,” said Turkey, in his blandest tone, “I think +that you are.” + +“Nippers,” said I, “what do _you_ think of it?” + +“I think I should kick him out of the office.” + +(The reader, of nice perceptions, will here perceive that, it being +morning, Turkey’s answer is couched in polite and tranquil terms, but +Nippers replies in ill-tempered ones. Or, to repeat a previous +sentence, Nippers’s ugly mood was on duty, and Turkey’s off.) + +“Ginger Nut,” said I, willing to enlist the smallest suffrage in my +behalf, “what do _you_ think of it?” + +“I think, sir, he’s a little _luny_,” replied Ginger Nut, with a grin. + +“You hear what they say,” said I, turning towards the screen, “come +forth and do your duty.” + +But he vouchsafed no reply. I pondered a moment in sore perplexity. But +once more business hurried me. I determined again to postpone the +consideration of this dilemma to my future leisure. With a little +trouble we made out to examine the papers without Bartleby, though at +every page or two Turkey deferentially dropped his opinion, that this +proceeding was quite out of the common; while Nippers, twitching in his +chair with a dyspeptic nervousness, ground out, between his set teeth, +occasional hissing maledictions against the stubborn oaf behind the +screen. And for his (Nippers’s) part, this was the first and the last +time he would do another man’s business without pay. + +Meanwhile Bartleby sat in his hermitage, oblivious to everything but +his own peculiar business there. + +Some days passed, the scrivener being employed upon another lengthy +work. His late remarkable conduct led me to regard his ways narrowly. I +observed that he never went to dinner; indeed, that he never went +anywhere. As yet I had never, of my personal knowledge, known him to be +outside of my office. He was a perpetual sentry in the corner. At about +eleven o’clock though, in the morning, I noticed that Ginger Nut would +advance toward the opening in Bartleby’s screen, as if silently +beckoned thither by a gesture invisible to me where I sat. The boy +would then leave the office, jingling a few pence, and reappear with a +handful of ginger-nuts, which he delivered in the hermitage, receiving +two of the cakes for his trouble. + +He lives, then, on ginger-nuts, thought I; never eats a dinner, +properly speaking; he must be a vegetarian, then; but no; he never eats +even vegetables, he eats nothing but ginger-nuts. My mind then ran on +in reveries concerning the probable effects upon the human constitution +of living entirely on ginger-nuts. Ginger-nuts are so called, because +they contain ginger as one of their peculiar constituents, and the +final flavoring one. Now, what was ginger? A hot, spicy thing. Was +Bartleby hot and spicy? Not at all. Ginger, then, had no effect upon +Bartleby. Probably, he preferred it should have none. + +Nothing so aggravates an earnest person as a passive resistance. If the +individual so resisted be of a not inhumane temper, and the resisting +one perfectly harmless in his passivity, then, in the better moods of +the former, he will endeavor charitably to construe to his imagination +what proves impossible to be solved by his judgment. Even so, for the +most part, I regarded Bartleby and his ways. Poor fellow! thought I, he +means no mischief; it is plain he intends no insolence; his aspect +sufficiently evinces that his eccentricities are involuntary. He is +useful to me. I can get along with him. If I turn him away, the chances +are he will fall in with some less-indulgent employer, and then he will +be rudely treated, and perhaps driven forth miserably to starve. Yes. +Here I can cheaply purchase a delicious self-approval. To befriend +Bartleby; to humor him in his strange willfulness, will cost me little +or nothing, while I lay up in my soul what will eventually prove a +sweet morsel for my conscience. But this mood was not invariable, with +me. The passiveness of Bartleby sometimes irritated me. I felt +strangely goaded on to encounter him in new opposition—to elicit some +angry spark from him answerable to my own. But, indeed, I might as well +have essayed to strike fire with my knuckles against a bit of Windsor +soap. But one afternoon the evil impulse in me mastered me, and the +following little scene ensued: + +“Bartleby,” said I, “when those papers are all copied, I will compare +them with you.” + +“I would prefer not to.” + +“How? Surely you do not mean to persist in that mulish vagary?” + +No answer. + +I threw open the folding-doors near by, and, turning upon Turkey and +Nippers, exclaimed: + +“Bartleby a second time says, he won’t examine his papers. What do you +think of it, Turkey?” + +It was afternoon, be it remembered. Turkey sat glowing like a brass +boiler; his bald head steaming; his hands reeling among his blotted +papers. + +“Think of it?” roared Turkey; “I think I’ll just step behind his +screen, and black his eyes for him!” + +So saying, Turkey rose to his feet and threw his arms into a pugilistic +position. He was hurrying away to make good his promise, when I +detained him, alarmed at the effect of incautiously rousing Turkey’s +combativeness after dinner. + +“Sit down, Turkey,” said I, “and hear what Nippers has to say. What do +you think of it, Nippers? Would I not be justified in immediately +dismissing Bartleby?” + +“Excuse me, that is for you to decide, sir. I think his conduct quite +unusual, and, indeed, unjust, as regards Turkey and myself. But it may +only be a passing whim.” + +“Ah,” exclaimed I, “you have strangely changed your mind, then—you +speak very gently of him now.” + +“All beer,” cried Turkey; “gentleness is effects of beer—Nippers and I +dined together to-day. You see how gentle _I_ am, sir. Shall I go and +black his eyes?” + +“You refer to Bartleby, I suppose. No, not to-day, Turkey,” I replied; +“pray, put up your fists.” + +I closed the doors, and again advanced towards Bartleby. I felt +additional incentives tempting me to my fate. I burned to be rebelled +against again. I remembered that Bartleby never left the office. + +“Bartleby,” said I, “Ginger Nut is away; just step around to the Post +Office, won’t you? (it was but a three minutes’ walk), and see if there +is anything for me.” + +“I would prefer not to.” + +“You _will_ not?” + +“I _prefer_ not.” + +I staggered to my desk, and sat there in a deep study. My blind +inveteracy returned. Was there any other thing in which I could procure +myself to be ignominiously repulsed by this lean, penniless wight?—my +hired clerk? What added thing is there, perfectly reasonable, that he +will be sure to refuse to do? + +“Bartleby!” + +No answer. + +“Bartleby,” in a louder tone. + +No answer. + +“Bartleby,” I roared. + +Like a very ghost, agreeably to the laws of magical invocation, at the +third summons, he appeared at the entrance of his hermitage. + +“Go to the next room, and tell Nippers to come to me.” + +“I prefer not to,” he respectfully and slowly said, and mildly +disappeared. + +“Very good, Bartleby,” said I, in a quiet sort of serenely-severe +self-possessed tone, intimating the unalterable purpose of some +terrible retribution very close at hand. At the moment I half intended +something of the kind. But upon the whole, as it was drawing towards my +dinner-hour, I thought it best to put on my hat and walk home for the +day, suffering much from perplexity and distress of mind. + +Shall I acknowledge it? The conclusion of this whole business was, that +it soon became a fixed fact of my chambers, that a pale young +scrivener, by the name of Bartleby, had a desk there; that he copied +for me at the usual rate of four cents a folio (one hundred words); but +he was permanently exempt from examining the work done by him, that +duty being transferred to Turkey and Nippers, out of compliment, +doubtless, to their superior acuteness; moreover, said Bartleby was +never, on any account, to be dispatched on the most trivial errand of +any sort; and that even if entreated to take upon him such a matter, it +was generally understood that he would “prefer not to”—in other words, +that he would refuse point-blank. + +As days passed on, I became considerably reconciled to Bartleby. His +steadiness, his freedom from all dissipation, his incessant industry +(except when he chose to throw himself into a standing revery behind +his screen), his great stillness, his unalterableness of demeanor under +all circumstances, made him a valuable acquisition. One prime thing was +this—_he was always there_—first in the morning, continually through +the day, and the last at night. I had a singular confidence in his +honesty. I felt my most precious papers perfectly safe in his hands. +Sometimes, to be sure, I could not, for the very soul of me, avoid +falling into sudden spasmodic passions with him. For it was exceeding +difficult to bear in mind all the time those strange peculiarities, +privileges, and unheard of exemptions, forming the tacit stipulations +on Bartleby’s part under which he remained in my office. Now and then, +in the eagerness of dispatching pressing business, I would +inadvertently summon Bartleby, in a short, rapid tone, to put his +finger, say, on the incipient tie of a bit of red tape with which I was +about compressing some papers. Of course, from behind the screen the +usual answer, “I prefer not to,” was sure to come; and then, how could +a human creature, with the common infirmities of our nature, refrain +from bitterly exclaiming upon such perverseness—such unreasonableness. +However, every added repulse of this sort which I received only tended +to lessen the probability of my repeating the inadvertence. + +Here it must be said, that according to the custom of most legal +gentlemen occupying chambers in densely-populated law buildings, there +were several keys to my door. One was kept by a woman residing in the +attic, which person weekly scrubbed and daily swept and dusted my +apartments. Another was kept by Turkey for convenience sake. The third +I sometimes carried in my own pocket. The fourth I knew not who had. + +Now, one Sunday morning I happened to go to Trinity Church, to hear a +celebrated preacher, and finding myself rather early on the ground I +thought I would walk round to my chambers for a while. Luckily I had my +key with me; but upon applying it to the lock, I found it resisted by +something inserted from the inside. Quite surprised, I called out; when +to my consternation a key was turned from within; and thrusting his +lean visage at me, and holding the door ajar, the apparition of +Bartleby appeared, in his shirt sleeves, and otherwise in a strangely +tattered deshabille, saying quietly that he was sorry, but he was +deeply engaged just then, and—preferred not admitting me at present. In +a brief word or two, he moreover added, that perhaps I had better walk +round the block two or three times, and by that time he would probably +have concluded his affairs. + +Now, the utterly unsurmised appearance of Bartleby, tenanting my +law-chambers of a Sunday morning, with his cadaverously gentlemanly +_nonchalance_, yet withal firm and self-possessed, had such a strange +effect upon me, that incontinently I slunk away from my own door, and +did as desired. But not without sundry twinges of impotent rebellion +against the mild effrontery of this unaccountable scrivener. Indeed, it +was his wonderful mildness chiefly, which not only disarmed me, but +unmanned me as it were. For I consider that one, for the time, is a +sort of unmanned when he tranquilly permits his hired clerk to dictate +to him, and order him away from his own premises. Furthermore, I was +full of uneasiness as to what Bartleby could possibly be doing in my +office in his shirt sleeves, and in an otherwise dismantled condition +of a Sunday morning. Was anything amiss going on? Nay, that was out of +the question. It was not to be thought of for a moment that Bartleby +was an immoral person. But what could he be doing there?—copying? Nay +again, whatever might be his eccentricities, Bartleby was an eminently +decorous person. He would be the last man to sit down to his desk in +any state approaching to nudity. Besides, it was Sunday; and there was +something about Bartleby that forbade the supposition that he would by +any secular occupation violate the proprieties of the day. + +Nevertheless, my mind was not pacified; and full of a restless +curiosity, at last I returned to the door. Without hindrance I inserted +my key, opened it, and entered. Bartleby was not to be seen. I looked +round anxiously, peeped behind his screen; but it was very plain that +he was gone. Upon more closely examining the place, I surmised that for +an indefinite period Bartleby must have ate, dressed, and slept in my +office, and that, too without plate, mirror, or bed. The cushioned seat +of a ricketty old sofa in one corner bore the faint impress of a lean, +reclining form. Rolled away under his desk, I found a blanket; under +the empty grate, a blacking box and brush; on a chair, a tin basin, +with soap and a ragged towel; in a newspaper a few crumbs of +ginger-nuts and a morsel of cheese. Yes, thought I, it is evident +enough that Bartleby has been making his home here, keeping bachelor’s +hall all by himself. Immediately then the thought came sweeping across +me, what miserable friendlessness and loneliness are here revealed! His +poverty is great; but his solitude, how horrible! Think of it. Of a +Sunday, Wall-street is deserted as Petra; and every night of every day +it is an emptiness. This building, too, which of week-days hums with +industry and life, at nightfall echoes with sheer vacancy, and all +through Sunday is forlorn. And here Bartleby makes his home; sole +spectator, of a solitude which he has seen all populous—a sort of +innocent and transformed Marius brooding among the ruins of Carthage! + +For the first time in my life a feeling of overpowering stinging +melancholy seized me. Before, I had never experienced aught but a not +unpleasing sadness. The bond of a common humanity now drew me +irresistibly to gloom. A fraternal melancholy! For both I and Bartleby +were sons of Adam. I remembered the bright silks and sparkling faces I +had seen that day, in gala trim, swan-like sailing down the Mississippi +of Broadway; and I contrasted them with the pallid copyist, and thought +to myself, Ah, happiness courts the light, so we deem the world is gay; +but misery hides aloof, so we deem that misery there is none. These sad +fancyings—chimeras, doubtless, of a sick and silly brain—led on to +other and more special thoughts, concerning the eccentricities of +Bartleby. Presentiments of strange discoveries hovered round me. The +scriveners pale form appeared to me laid out, among uncaring strangers, +in its shivering winding sheet. + +Suddenly I was attracted by Bartleby’s closed desk, the key in open +sight left in the lock. + +I mean no mischief, seek the gratification of no heartless curiosity, +thought I; besides, the desk is mine, and its contents, too, so I will +make bold to look within. Everything was methodically arranged, the +papers smoothly placed. The pigeon holes were deep, and removing the +files of documents, I groped into their recesses. Presently I felt +something there, and dragged it out. It was an old bandanna +handkerchief, heavy and knotted. I opened it, and saw it was a savings’ +bank. + +I now recalled all the quiet mysteries which I had noted in the man. I +remembered that he never spoke but to answer; that, though at intervals +he had considerable time to himself, yet I had never seen him +reading—no, not even a newspaper; that for long periods he would stand +looking out, at his pale window behind the screen, upon the dead brick +wall; I was quite sure he never visited any refectory or eating house; +while his pale face clearly indicated that he never drank beer like +Turkey, or tea and coffee even, like other men; that he never went +anywhere in particular that I could learn; never went out for a walk, +unless, indeed, that was the case at present; that he had declined +telling who he was, or whence he came, or whether he had any relatives +in the world; that though so thin and pale, he never complained of ill +health. And more than all, I remembered a certain unconscious air of +pallid—how shall I call it?—of pallid haughtiness, say, or rather an +austere reserve about him, which had positively awed me into my tame +compliance with his eccentricities, when I had feared to ask him to do +the slightest incidental thing for me, even though I might know, from +his long-continued motionlessness, that behind his screen he must be +standing in one of those dead-wall reveries of his. + +Revolving all these things, and coupling them with the recently +discovered fact, that he made my office his constant abiding place and +home, and not forgetful of his morbid moodiness; revolving all these +things, a prudential feeling began to steal over me. My first emotions +had been those of pure melancholy and sincerest pity; but just in +proportion as the forlornness of Bartleby grew and grew to my +imagination, did that same melancholy merge into fear, that pity into +repulsion. So true it is, and so terrible, too, that up to a certain +point the thought or sight of misery enlists our best affections; but, +in certain special cases, beyond that point it does not. They err who +would assert that invariably this is owing to the inherent selfishness +of the human heart. It rather proceeds from a certain hopelessness of +remedying excessive and organic ill. To a sensitive being, pity is not +seldom pain. And when at last it is perceived that such pity cannot +lead to effectual succor, common sense bids the soul be rid of it. What +I saw that morning persuaded me that the scrivener was the victim of +innate and incurable disorder. I might give alms to his body; but his +body did not pain him; it was his soul that suffered, and his soul I +could not reach. + +I did not accomplish the purpose of going to Trinity Church that +morning. Somehow, the things I had seen disqualified me for the time +from church-going. I walked homeward, thinking what I would do with +Bartleby. Finally, I resolved upon this—I would put certain calm +questions to him the next morning, touching his history, etc., and if +he declined to answer them openly and unreservedly (and I supposed he +would prefer not), then to give him a twenty dollar bill over and above +whatever I might owe him, and tell him his services were no longer +required; but that if in any other way I could assist him, I would be +happy to do so, especially if he desired to return to his native place, +wherever that might be, I would willingly help to defray the expenses. +Moreover, if, after reaching home, he found himself at any time in want +of aid, a letter from him would be sure of a reply. + +The next morning came. + +“Bartleby,” said I, gently calling to him behind his screen. + +No reply. + +“Bartleby,” said I, in a still gentler tone, “come here; I am not going +to ask you to do anything you would prefer not to do—I simply wish to +speak to you.” + +Upon this he noiselessly slid into view. + +“Will you tell me, Bartleby, where you were born?” + +“I would prefer not to.” + +“Will you tell me _anything_ about yourself?” + +“I would prefer not to.” + +“But what reasonable objection can you have to speak to me? I feel +friendly towards you.” + +He did not look at me while I spoke, but kept his glance fixed upon my +bust of Cicero, which, as I then sat, was directly behind me, some six +inches above my head. + +“What is your answer, Bartleby,” said I, after waiting a considerable +time for a reply, during which his countenance remained immovable, only +there was the faintest conceivable tremor of the white attenuated +mouth. + +“At present I prefer to give no answer,” he said, and retired into his +hermitage. + +It was rather weak in me I confess, but his manner, on this occasion, +nettled me. Not only did there seem to lurk in it a certain calm +disdain, but his perverseness seemed ungrateful, considering the +undeniable good usage and indulgence he had received from me. + +Again I sat ruminating what I should do. Mortified as I was at his +behavior, and resolved as I had been to dismiss him when I entered my +office, nevertheless I strangely felt something superstitious knocking +at my heart, and forbidding me to carry out my purpose, and denouncing +me for a villain if I dared to breathe one bitter word against this +forlornest of mankind. At last, familiarly drawing my chair behind his +screen, I sat down and said: “Bartleby, never mind, then, about +revealing your history; but let me entreat you, as a friend, to comply +as far as may be with the usages of this office. Say now, you will help +to examine papers to-morrow or next day: in short, say now, that in a +day or two you will begin to be a little reasonable:—say so, Bartleby.” + +“At present I would prefer not to be a little reasonable,” was his +mildly cadaverous reply. + +Just then the folding-doors opened, and Nippers approached. He seemed +suffering from an unusually bad night’s rest, induced by severer +indigestion than common. He overheard those final words of Bartleby. + +“_Prefer not_, eh?” gritted Nippers—“I’d _prefer_ him, if I were you, +sir,” addressing me—“I’d _prefer_ him; I’d give him preferences, the +stubborn mule! What is it, sir, pray, that he _prefers_ not to do now?” + +Bartleby moved not a limb. + +“Mr. Nippers,” said I, “I’d prefer that you would withdraw for the +present.” + +Somehow, of late, I had got into the way of involuntarily using this +word “prefer” upon all sorts of not exactly suitable occasions. And I +trembled to think that my contact with the scrivener had already and +seriously affected me in a mental way. And what further and deeper +aberration might it not yet produce? This apprehension had not been +without efficacy in determining me to summary measures. + +As Nippers, looking very sour and sulky, was departing, Turkey blandly +and deferentially approached. + +“With submission, sir,” said he, “yesterday I was thinking about +Bartleby here, and I think that if he would but prefer to take a quart +of good ale every day, it would do much towards mending him, and +enabling him to assist in examining his papers.” + +“So you have got the word, too,” said I, slightly excited. + +“With submission, what word, sir,” asked Turkey, respectfully crowding +himself into the contracted space behind the screen, and by so doing, +making me jostle the scrivener. “What word, sir?” + +“I would prefer to be left alone here,” said Bartleby, as if offended +at being mobbed in his privacy. + +“_That’s_ the word, Turkey,” said I—“_that’s_ it.” + +“Oh, _prefer_? oh yes—queer word. I never use it myself. But, sir, as I +was saying, if he would but prefer—” + +“Turkey,” interrupted I, “you will please withdraw.” + +“Oh certainly, sir, if you prefer that I should.” + +As he opened the folding-door to retire, Nippers at his desk caught a +glimpse of me, and asked whether I would prefer to have a certain paper +copied on blue paper or white. He did not in the least roguishly accent +the word prefer. It was plain that it involuntarily rolled from his +tongue. I thought to myself, surely I must get rid of a demented man, +who already has in some degree turned the tongues, if not the heads of +myself and clerks. But I thought it prudent not to break the dismission +at once. + +The next day I noticed that Bartleby did nothing but stand at his +window in his dead-wall revery. Upon asking him why he did not write, +he said that he had decided upon doing no more writing. + +“Why, how now? what next?” exclaimed I, “do no more writing?” + +“No more.” + +“And what is the reason?” + +“Do you not see the reason for yourself,” he indifferently replied. + +I looked steadfastly at him, and perceived that his eyes looked dull +and glazed. Instantly it occurred to me, that his unexampled diligence +in copying by his dim window for the first few weeks of his stay with +me might have temporarily impared his vision. + +I was touched. I said something in condolence with him. I hinted that +of course he did wisely in abstaining from writing for a while; and +urged him to embrace that opportunity of taking wholesome exercise in +the open air. This, however, he did not do. A few days after this, my +other clerks being absent, and being in a great hurry to dispatch +certain letters by the mail, I thought that, having nothing else +earthly to do, Bartleby would surely be less inflexible than usual, and +carry these letters to the post-office. But he blankly declined. So, +much to my inconvenience, I went myself. + +Still added days went by. Whether Bartleby’s eyes improved or not, I +could not say. To all appearance, I thought they did. But when I asked +him if they did, he vouchsafed no answer. At all events, he would do no +copying. At last, in reply to my urgings, he informed me that he had +permanently given up copying. + +“What!” exclaimed I; “suppose your eyes should get entirely well—better +than ever before—would you not copy then?” + +“I have given up copying,” he answered, and slid aside. + +He remained as ever, a fixture in my chamber. Nay—if that were +possible—he became still more of a fixture than before. What was to be +done? He would do nothing in the office; why should he stay there? In +plain fact, he had now become a millstone to me, not only useless as a +necklace, but afflictive to bear. Yet I was sorry for him. I speak less +than truth when I say that, on his own account, he occasioned me +uneasiness. If he would but have named a single relative or friend, I +would instantly have written, and urged their taking the poor fellow +away to some convenient retreat. But he seemed alone, absolutely alone +in the universe. A bit of wreck in the mid Atlantic. At length, +necessities connected with my business tyrannized over all other +considerations. Decently as I could, I told Bartleby that in six days +time he must unconditionally leave the office. I warned him to take +measures, in the interval, for procuring some other abode. I offered to +assist him in this endeavor, if he himself would but take the first +step towards a removal. “And when you finally quit me, Bartleby,” added +I, “I shall see that you go not away entirely unprovided. Six days from +this hour, remember.” + +At the expiration of that period, I peeped behind the screen, and lo! +Bartleby was there. + +I buttoned up my coat, balanced myself; advanced slowly towards him, +touched his shoulder, and said, “The time has come; you must quit this +place; I am sorry for you; here is money; but you must go.” + +“I would prefer not,” he replied, with his back still towards me. + +“You _must_.” + +He remained silent. + +Now I had an unbounded confidence in this man’s common honesty. He had +frequently restored to me sixpences and shillings carelessly dropped +upon the floor, for I am apt to be very reckless in such shirt-button +affairs. The proceeding, then, which followed will not be deemed +extraordinary. + +“Bartleby,” said I, “I owe you twelve dollars on account; here are +thirty-two; the odd twenty are yours—Will you take it?” and I handed +the bills towards him. + +But he made no motion. + +“I will leave them here, then,” putting them under a weight on the +table. Then taking my hat and cane and going to the door, I tranquilly +turned and added—“After you have removed your things from these +offices, Bartleby, you will of course lock the door—since every one is +now gone for the day but you—and if you please, slip your key +underneath the mat, so that I may have it in the morning. I shall not +see you again; so good-by to you. If, hereafter, in your new place of +abode, I can be of any service to you, do not fail to advise me by +letter. Good-by, Bartleby, and fare you well.” + +But he answered not a word; like the last column of some ruined temple, +he remained standing mute and solitary in the middle of the otherwise +deserted room. + +As I walked home in a pensive mood, my vanity got the better of my +pity. I could not but highly plume myself on my masterly management in +getting rid of Bartleby. Masterly I call it, and such it must appear to +any dispassionate thinker. The beauty of my procedure seemed to consist +in its perfect quietness. There was no vulgar bullying, no bravado of +any sort, no choleric hectoring, and striding to and fro across the +apartment, jerking out vehement commands for Bartleby to bundle himself +off with his beggarly traps. Nothing of the kind. Without loudly +bidding Bartleby depart—as an inferior genius might have done—I +_assumed_ the ground that depart he must; and upon that assumption +built all I had to say. The more I thought over my procedure, the more +I was charmed with it. Nevertheless, next morning, upon awakening, I +had my doubts—I had somehow slept off the fumes of vanity. One of the +coolest and wisest hours a man has, is just after he awakes in the +morning. My procedure seemed as sagacious as ever—but only in theory. +How it would prove in practice—there was the rub. It was truly a +beautiful thought to have assumed Bartleby’s departure; but, after all, +that assumption was simply my own, and none of Bartleby’s. The great +point was, not whether I had assumed that he would quit me, but whether +he would prefer so to do. He was more a man of preferences than +assumptions. + +After breakfast, I walked down town, arguing the probabilities _pro_ +and _con_. One moment I thought it would prove a miserable failure, and +Bartleby would be found all alive at my office as usual; the next +moment it seemed certain that I should find his chair empty. And so I +kept veering about. At the corner of Broadway and Canal street, I saw +quite an excited group of people standing in earnest conversation. + +“I’ll take odds he doesn’t,” said a voice as I passed. + +“Doesn’t go?—done!” said I, “put up your money.” + +I was instinctively putting my hand in my pocket to produce my own, +when I remembered that this was an election day. The words I had +overheard bore no reference to Bartleby, but to the success or +non-success of some candidate for the mayoralty. In my intent frame of +mind, I had, as it were, imagined that all Broadway shared in my +excitement, and were debating the same question with me. I passed on, +very thankful that the uproar of the street screened my momentary +absent-mindedness. + +As I had intended, I was earlier than usual at my office door. I stood +listening for a moment. All was still. He must be gone. I tried the +knob. The door was locked. Yes, my procedure had worked to a charm; he +indeed must be vanished. Yet a certain melancholy mixed with this: I +was almost sorry for my brilliant success. I was fumbling under the +door mat for the key, which Bartleby was to have left there for me, +when accidentally my knee knocked against a panel, producing a +summoning sound, and in response a voice came to me from within—“Not +yet; I am occupied.” + +It was Bartleby. + +I was thunderstruck. For an instant I stood like the man who, pipe in +mouth, was killed one cloudless afternoon long ago in Virginia, by +summer lightning; at his own warm open window he was killed, and +remained leaning out there upon the dreamy afternoon till some one +touched him, when he fell. + +“Not gone!” I murmured at last. But again obeying that wondrous +ascendancy which the inscrutable scrivener had over me, and from which +ascendancy, for all my chafing, I could not completely escape, I slowly +went down stairs and out into the street, and while walking round the +block, considered what I should next do in this unheard-of perplexity. +Turn the man out by an actual thrusting I could not; to drive him away +by calling him hard names would not do; calling in the police was an +unpleasant idea; and yet, permit him to enjoy his cadaverous triumph +over me—this, too, I could not think of. What was to be done? or, if +nothing could be done, was there anything further that I could _assume_ +in the matter? Yes, as before I had prospectively assumed that Bartleby +would depart, so now I might retrospectively assume that departed he +was. In the legitimate carrying out of this assumption, I might enter +my office in a great hurry, and pretending not to see Bartleby at all, +walk straight against him as if he were air. Such a proceeding would in +a singular degree have the appearance of a home-thrust. It was hardly +possible that Bartleby could withstand such an application of the +doctrine of assumptions. But upon second thoughts the success of the +plan seemed rather dubious. I resolved to argue the matter over with +him again. + +“Bartleby,” said I, entering the office, with a quietly severe +expression, “I am seriously displeased. I am pained, Bartleby. I had +thought better of you. I had imagined you of such a gentlemanly +organization, that in any delicate dilemma a slight hint would +suffice—in short, an assumption. But it appears I am deceived. Why,” I +added, unaffectedly starting, “you have not even touched that money +yet,” pointing to it, just where I had left it the evening previous. + +He answered nothing. + +“Will you, or will you not, quit me?” I now demanded in a sudden +passion, advancing close to him. + +“I would prefer _not_ to quit you,” he replied gently emphasizing the +_not_. + +“What earthly right have you to stay here? Do you pay any rent? Do you +pay my taxes? Or is this property yours?” + +He answered nothing. + +“Are you ready to go on and write now? Are your eyes recovered? Could +you copy a small paper for me this morning? or help examine a few +lines? or step round to the post-office? In a word, will you do +anything at all, to give a coloring to your refusal to depart the +premises?” + +He silently retired into his hermitage. + +I was now in such a state of nervous resentment that I thought it but +prudent to check myself at present from further demonstrations. +Bartleby and I were alone. I remembered the tragedy of the unfortunate +Adams and the still more unfortunate Colt in the solitary office of the +latter; and how poor Colt, being dreadfully incensed by Adams, and +imprudently permitting himself to get wildly excited, was at unawares +hurried into his fatal act—an act which certainly no man could possibly +deplore more than the actor himself. Often it had occurred to me in my +ponderings upon the subject, that had that altercation taken place in +the public street, or at a private residence, it would not have +terminated as it did. It was the circumstance of being alone in a +solitary office, up stairs, of a building entirely unhallowed by +humanizing domestic associations—an uncarpeted office, doubtless, of a +dusty, haggard sort of appearance—this it must have been, which greatly +helped to enhance the irritable desperation of the hapless Colt. + +But when this old Adam of resentment rose in me and tempted me +concerning Bartleby, I grappled him and threw him. How? Why, simply by +recalling the divine injunction: “A new commandment give I unto you, +that ye love one another.” Yes, this it was that saved me. Aside from +higher considerations, charity often operates as a vastly wise and +prudent principle—a great safeguard to its possessor. Men have +committed murder for jealousy’s sake, and anger’s sake, and hatred’s +sake, and selfishness’ sake, and spiritual pride’s sake; but no man, +that ever I heard of, ever committed a diabolical murder for sweet +charity’s sake. Mere self-interest, then, if no better motive can be +enlisted, should, especially with high-tempered men, prompt all beings +to charity and philanthropy. At any rate, upon the occasion in +question, I strove to drown my exasperated feelings towards the +scrivener by benevolently construing his conduct.—Poor fellow, poor +fellow! thought I, he don’t mean anything; and besides, he has seen +hard times, and ought to be indulged. + +I endeavored, also, immediately to occupy myself, and at the same time +to comfort my despondency. I tried to fancy, that in the course of the +morning, at such time as might prove agreeable to him, Bartleby, of his +own free accord, would emerge from his hermitage and take up some +decided line of march in the direction of the door. But no. Half-past +twelve o’clock came; Turkey began to glow in the face, overturn his +inkstand, and become generally obstreperous; Nippers abated down into +quietude and courtesy; Ginger Nut munched his noon apple; and Bartleby +remained standing at his window in one of his profoundest dead-wall +reveries. Will it be credited? Ought I to acknowledge it? That +afternoon I left the office without saying one further word to him. + +Some days now passed, during which, at leisure intervals I looked a +little into “Edwards on the Will,” and “Priestley on Necessity.” Under +the circumstances, those books induced a salutary feeling. Gradually I +slid into the persuasion that these troubles of mine, touching the +scrivener, had been all predestinated from eternity, and Bartleby was +billeted upon me for some mysterious purpose of an allwise Providence, +which it was not for a mere mortal like me to fathom. Yes, Bartleby, +stay there behind your screen, thought I; I shall persecute you no +more; you are harmless and noiseless as any of these old chairs; in +short, I never feel so private as when I know you are here. At last I +see it, I feel it; I penetrate to the predestinated purpose of my life. +I am content. Others may have loftier parts to enact; but my mission in +this world, Bartleby, is to furnish you with office-room for such +period as you may see fit to remain. + +I believe that this wise and blessed frame of mind would have continued +with me, had it not been for the unsolicited and uncharitable remarks +obtruded upon me by my professional friends who visited the rooms. But +thus it often is, that the constant friction of illiberal minds wears +out at last the best resolves of the more generous. Though to be sure, +when I reflected upon it, it was not strange that people entering my +office should be struck by the peculiar aspect of the unaccountable +Bartleby, and so be tempted to throw out some sinister observations +concerning him. Sometimes an attorney, having business with me, and +calling at my office, and finding no one but the scrivener there, would +undertake to obtain some sort of precise information from him touching +my whereabouts; but without heeding his idle talk, Bartleby would +remain standing immovable in the middle of the room. So after +contemplating him in that position for a time, the attorney would +depart, no wiser than he came. + +Also, when a reference was going on, and the room full of lawyers and +witnesses, and business driving fast, some deeply-occupied legal +gentleman present, seeing Bartleby wholly unemployed, would request him +to run round to his (the legal gentleman’s) office and fetch some +papers for him. Thereupon, Bartleby would tranquilly decline, and yet +remain idle as before. Then the lawyer would give a great stare, and +turn to me. And what could I say? At last I was made aware that all +through the circle of my professional acquaintance, a whisper of wonder +was running round, having reference to the strange creature I kept at +my office. This worried me very much. And as the idea came upon me of +his possibly turning out a long-lived man, and keep occupying my +chambers, and denying my authority; and perplexing my visitors; and +scandalizing my professional reputation; and casting a general gloom +over the premises; keeping soul and body together to the last upon his +savings (for doubtless he spent but half a dime a day), and in the end +perhaps outlive me, and claim possession of my office by right of his +perpetual occupancy: as all these dark anticipations crowded upon me +more and more, and my friends continually intruded their relentless +remarks upon the apparition in my room; a great change was wrought in +me. I resolved to gather all my faculties together, and forever rid me +of this intolerable incubus. + +Ere revolving any complicated project, however, adapted to this end, I +first simply suggested to Bartleby the propriety of his permanent +departure. In a calm and serious tone, I commanded the idea to his +careful and mature consideration. But, having taken three days to +meditate upon it, he apprised me, that his original determination +remained the same; in short, that he still preferred to abide with me. + +What shall I do? I now said to myself, buttoning up my coat to the last +button. What shall I do? what ought I to do? what does conscience say I +_should_ do with this man, or, rather, ghost. Rid myself of him, I +must; go, he shall. But how? You will not thrust him, the poor, pale, +passive mortal—you will not thrust such a helpless creature out of your +door? you will not dishonor yourself by such cruelty? No, I will not, I +cannot do that. Rather would I let him live and die here, and then +mason up his remains in the wall. What, then, will you do? For all your +coaxing, he will not budge. Bribes he leaves under your own +paper-weight on your table; in short, it is quite plain that he prefers +to cling to you. + +Then something severe, something unusual must be done. What! surely you +will not have him collared by a constable, and commit his innocent +pallor to the common jail? And upon what ground could you procure such +a thing to be done?—a vagrant, is he? What! he a vagrant, a wanderer, +who refuses to budge? It is because he will _not_ be a vagrant, then, +that you seek to count him _as_ a vagrant. That is too absurd. No +visible means of support: there I have him. Wrong again: for +indubitably he _does_ support himself, and that is the only +unanswerable proof that any man can show of his possessing the means so +to do. No more, then. Since he will not quit me, I must quit him. I +will change my offices; I will move elsewhere, and give him fair +notice, that if I find him on my new premises I will then proceed +against him as a common trespasser. + +Acting accordingly, next day I thus addressed him: “I find these +chambers too far from the City Hall; the air is unwholesome. In a word, +I propose to remove my offices next week, and shall no longer require +your services. I tell you this now, in order that you may seek another +place.” + +He made no reply, and nothing more was said. + +On the appointed day I engaged carts and men, proceeded to my chambers, +and, having but little furniture, everything was removed in a few +hours. Throughout, the scrivener remained standing behind the screen, +which I directed to be removed the last thing. It was withdrawn; and, +being folded up like a huge folio, left him the motionless occupant of +a naked room. I stood in the entry watching him a moment, while +something from within me upbraided me. + +I re-entered, with my hand in my pocket—and—and my heart in my mouth. + +“Good-by, Bartleby; I am going—good-by, and God some way bless you; and +take that,” slipping something in his hand. But it dropped upon the +floor, and then—strange to say—I tore myself from him whom I had so +longed to be rid of. + +Established in my new quarters, for a day or two I kept the door +locked, and started at every footfall in the passages. When I returned +to my rooms, after any little absence, I would pause at the threshold +for an instant, and attentively listen, ere applying my key. But these +fears were needless. Bartleby never came nigh me. + +I thought all was going well, when a perturbed-looking stranger visited +me, inquiring whether I was the person who had recently occupied rooms +at No. —— Wall street. + +Full of forebodings, I replied that I was. + +“Then, sir,” said the stranger, who proved a lawyer, “you are +responsible for the man you left there. He refuses to do any copying; +he refuses to do anything; he says he prefers not to; and he refuses to +quit the premises.” + +“I am very sorry, sir,” said I, with assumed tranquillity, but an +inward tremor, “but, really, the man you allude to is nothing to me—he +is no relation or apprentice of mine, that you should hold me +responsible for him.” + +“In mercy’s name, who is he?” + +“I certainly cannot inform you. I know nothing about him. Formerly I +employed him as a copyist; but he has done nothing for me now for some +time past.” + +“I shall settle him, then—good morning, sir.” + +Several days passed, and I heard nothing more; and, though I often felt +a charitable prompting to call at the place and see poor Bartleby, yet +a certain squeamishness, of I know not what, withheld me. + +All is over with him, by this time, thought I, at last, when, through +another week, no further intelligence reached me. But, coming to my +room the day after, I found several persons waiting at my door in a +high state of nervous excitement. + +“That’s the man—here he comes,” cried the foremost one, whom I +recognized as the lawyer who had previously called upon me alone. + +“You must take him away, sir, at once,” cried a portly person among +them, advancing upon me, and whom I knew to be the landlord of No. —— +Wall street. “These gentlemen, my tenants, cannot stand it any longer; +Mr. B——,” pointing to the lawyer, “has turned him out of his room, and +he now persists in haunting the building generally, sitting upon the +banisters of the stairs by day, and sleeping in the entry by night. +Everybody is concerned; clients are leaving the offices; some fears are +entertained of a mob; something you must do, and that without delay.” + +Aghast at this torrent, I fell back before it, and would fain have +locked myself in my new quarters. In vain I persisted that Bartleby was +nothing to me—no more than to any one else. In vain—I was the last +person known to have anything to do with him, and they held me to the +terrible account. Fearful, then, of being exposed in the papers (as one +person present obscurely threatened), I considered the matter, and, at +length, said, that if the lawyer would give me a confidential interview +with the scrivener, in his (the lawyer’s) own room, I would, that +afternoon, strive my best to rid them of the nuisance they complained +of. + +Going up stairs to my old haunt, there was Bartleby silently sitting +upon the banister at the landing. + +“What are you doing here, Bartleby?” said I. + +“Sitting upon the banister,” he mildly replied. + +I motioned him into the lawyer’s room, who then left us. + +“Bartleby” said I, “are you aware that you are the cause of great +tribulation to me, by persisting in occupying the entry after being +dismissed from the office?” + +No answer. + +“Now one of two things must take place. Either you must do something, +or something must be done to you. Now what sort of business would you +like to engage in? Would you like to re-engage in copying for some +one?” + +“No; I would prefer not to make any change.” + +“Would you like a clerkship in a dry-goods store?” + +“There is too much confinement about that. No, I would not like a +clerkship; but I am not particular.” + +“Too much confinement,” I cried, “why you keep yourself confined all +the time!” + +“I would prefer not to take a clerkship,” he rejoined, as if to settle +that little item at once. + +“How would a bar-tender’s business suit you? There is no trying of the +eye-sight in that.” + +“I would not like it at all; though, as I said before, I am not +particular.” + +His unwonted wordiness inspirited me. I returned to the charge. + +“Well, then, would you like to travel through the country collecting +bills for the merchants? That would improve your health.” + +“No, I would prefer to be doing something else.” + +“How, then, would going as a companion to Europe, to entertain some +young gentleman with your conversation—how would that suit you?” + +“Not at all. It does not strike me that there is anything definite +about that. I like to be stationary. But I am not particular.” + +“Stationary you shall be, then,” I cried, now losing all patience, and, +for the first time in all my exasperating connection with him, fairly +flying into a passion. “If you do not go away from these premises +before night, I shall feel bound—indeed, I _am_ bound—to—to—to quit the +premises myself!” I rather absurdly concluded, knowing not with what +possible threat to try to frighten his immobility into compliance. +Despairing of all further efforts, I was precipitately leaving him, +when a final thought occurred to me—one which had not been wholly +unindulged before. + +“Bartleby,” said I, in the kindest tone I could assume under such +exciting circumstances, “will you go home with me now—not to my office, +but my dwelling—and remain there till we can conclude upon some +convenient arrangement for you at our leisure? Come, let us start now, +right away.” + +“No: at present I would prefer not to make any change at all.” + +I answered nothing; but, effectually dodging every one by the +suddenness and rapidity of my flight, rushed from the building, ran up +Wall street towards Broadway, and, jumping into the first omnibus, was +soon removed from pursuit. As soon as tranquillity returned, I +distinctly perceived that I had now done all that I possibly could, +both in respect to the demands of the landlord and his tenants, and +with regard to my own desire and sense of duty, to benefit Bartleby, +and shield him from rude persecution, I now strove to be entirely +care-free and quiescent; and my conscience justified me in the attempt; +though, indeed, it was not so successful as I could have wished. So +fearful was I of being again hunted out by the incensed landlord and +his exasperated tenants, that, surrendering my business to Nippers, for +a few days, I drove about the upper part of the town and through the +suburbs, in my rockaway; crossed over to Jersey City and Hoboken, and +paid fugitive visits to Manhattanville and Astoria. In fact, I almost +lived in my rockaway for the time. + +When again I entered my office, lo, a note from the landlord lay upon +the desk. I opened it with trembling hands. It informed me that the +writer had sent to the police, and had Bartleby removed to the Tombs as +a vagrant. Moreover, since I knew more about him than any one else, he +wished me to appear at that place, and make a suitable statement of the +facts. These tidings had a conflicting effect upon me. At first I was +indignant; but, at last, almost approved. The landlord’s energetic, +summary disposition, had led him to adopt a procedure which I do not +think I would have decided upon myself; and yet, as a last resort, +under such peculiar circumstances, it seemed the only plan. + +As I afterwards learned, the poor scrivener, when told that he must be +conducted to the Tombs, offered not the slightest obstacle, but, in his +pale, unmoving way, silently acquiesced. + +Some of the compassionate and curious bystanders joined the party; and +headed by one of the constables arm in arm with Bartleby, the silent +procession filed its way through all the noise, and heat, and joy of +the roaring thoroughfares at noon. + +The same day I received the note, I went to the Tombs, or, to speak +more properly, the Halls of Justice. Seeking the right officer, I +stated the purpose of my call, and was informed that the individual I +described was, indeed, within. I then assured the functionary that +Bartleby was a perfectly honest man, and greatly to be compassionated, +however unaccountably eccentric. I narrated all I knew and closed by +suggesting the idea of letting him remain in as indulgent confinement +as possible, till something less harsh might be done—though, indeed, I +hardly knew what. At all events, if nothing else could be decided upon, +the alms-house must receive him. I then begged to have an interview. + +Being under no disgraceful charge, and quite serene and harmless in all +his ways, they had permitted him freely to wander about the prison, +and, especially, in the inclosed grass-platted yards thereof. And so I +found him there, standing all alone in the quietest of the yards, his +face towards a high wall, while all around, from the narrow slits of +the jail windows, I thought I saw peering out upon him the eyes of +murderers and thieves. + +“Bartleby!” + +“I know you,” he said, without looking round—“and I want nothing to say +to you.” + +“It was not I that brought you here, Bartleby,” said I, keenly pained +at his implied suspicion. “And to you, this should not be so vile a +place. Nothing reproachful attaches to you by being here. And see, it +is not so sad a place as one might think. Look, there is the sky, and +here is the grass.” + +“I know where I am,” he replied, but would say nothing more, and so I +left him. + +As I entered the corridor again, a broad meat-like man, in an apron, +accosted me, and, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, said—“Is that +your friend?” + +“Yes.” + +“Does he want to starve? If he does, let him live on the prison fare, +that’s all.” + +“Who are you?” asked I, not knowing what to make of such an +unofficially speaking person in such a place. + +“I am the grub-man. Such gentlemen as have friends here, hire me to +provide them with something good to eat.” + +“Is this so?” said I, turning to the turnkey. + +He said it was. + +“Well, then,” said I, slipping some silver into the grub-man’s hands +(for so they called him), “I want you to give particular attention to +my friend there; let him have the best dinner you can get. And you must +be as polite to him as possible.” + +“Introduce me, will you?” said the grub-man, looking at me with an +expression which seem to say he was all impatience for an opportunity +to give a specimen of his breeding. + +Thinking it would prove of benefit to the scrivener, I acquiesced; and, +asking the grub-man his name, went up with him to Bartleby. + +“Bartleby, this is a friend; you will find him very useful to you.” + +“Your sarvant, sir, your sarvant,” said the grub-man, making a low +salutation behind his apron. “Hope you find it pleasant here, sir; nice +grounds—cool apartments—hope you’ll stay with us some time—try to make +it agreeable. What will you have for dinner to-day?” + +“I prefer not to dine to-day,” said Bartleby, turning away. “It would +disagree with me; I am unused to dinners.” So saying, he slowly moved +to the other side of the inclosure, and took up a position fronting the +dead-wall. + +“How’s this?” said the grub-man, addressing me with a stare of +astonishment. “He’s odd, ain’t he?” + +“I think he is a little deranged,” said I, sadly. + +“Deranged? deranged is it? Well, now, upon my word, I thought that +friend of yourn was a gentleman forger; they are always pale, and +genteel-like, them forgers. I can’t help pity ’em—can’t help it, sir. +Did you know Monroe Edwards?” he added, touchingly, and paused. Then, +laying his hand piteously on my shoulder, sighed, “he died of +consumption at Sing-Sing. So you weren’t acquainted with Monroe?” + +“No, I was never socially acquainted with any forgers. But I cannot +stop longer. Look to my friend yonder. You will not lose by it. I will +see you again.” + +Some few days after this, I again obtained admission to the Tombs, and +went through the corridors in quest of Bartleby; but without finding +him. + +“I saw him coming from his cell not long ago,” said a turnkey, “may be +he’s gone to loiter in the yards.” + +So I went in that direction. + +“Are you looking for the silent man?” said another turnkey, passing me. +“Yonder he lies—sleeping in the yard there. ’Tis not twenty minutes +since I saw him lie down.” + +The yard was entirely quiet. It was not accessible to the common +prisoners. The surrounding walls, of amazing thickness, kept off all +sounds behind them. The Egyptian character of the masonry weighed upon +me with its gloom. But a soft imprisoned turf grew under foot. The +heart of the eternal pyramids, it seemed, wherein, by some strange +magic, through the clefts, grass-seed, dropped by birds, had sprung. + +Strangely huddled at the base of the wall, his knees drawn up, and +lying on his side, his head touching the cold stones, I saw the wasted +Bartleby. But nothing stirred. I paused; then went close up to him; +stooped over, and saw that his dim eyes were open; otherwise he seemed +profoundly sleeping. Something prompted me to touch him. I felt his +hand, when a tingling shiver ran up my arm and down my spine to my +feet. + +The round face of the grub-man peered upon me now. “His dinner is +ready. Won’t he dine to-day, either? Or does he live without dining?” + +“Lives without dining,” said I, and closed the eyes. + +“Eh!—He’s asleep, ain’t he?” + +“With kings and counselors,” murmured I. + + +There would seem little need for proceeding further in this history. +Imagination will readily supply the meagre recital of poor Bartleby’s +interment. But, ere parting with the reader, let me say, that if this +little narrative has sufficiently interested him, to awaken curiosity +as to who Bartleby was, and what manner of life he led prior to the +present narrator’s making his acquaintance, I can only reply, that in +such curiosity I fully share, but am wholly unable to gratify it. Yet +here I hardly know whether I should divulge one little item of rumor, +which came to my ear a few months after the scrivener’s decease. Upon +what basis it rested, I could never ascertain; and hence, how true it +is I cannot now tell. But, inasmuch as this vague report has not been +without a certain suggestive interest to me, however sad, it may prove +the same with some others; and so I will briefly mention it. The report +was this: that Bartleby had been a subordinate clerk in the Dead Letter +Office at Washington, from which he had been suddenly removed by a +change in the administration. When I think over this rumor, hardly can +I express the emotions which seize me. Dead letters! does it not sound +like dead men? Conceive a man by nature and misfortune prone to a +pallid hopelessness, can any business seem more fitted to heighten it +than that of continually handling these dead letters, and assorting +them for the flames? For by the cart-load they are annually burned. +Sometimes from out the folded paper the pale clerk takes a ring—the +finger it was meant for, perhaps, moulders in the grave; a bank-note +sent in swiftest charity—he whom it would relieve, nor eats nor hungers +any more; pardon for those who died despairing; hope for those who died +unhoping; good tidings for those who died stifled by unrelieved +calamities. On errands of life, these letters speed to death. + +Ah, Bartleby! Ah, humanity! + + + + +BENITO CERENO. + + +In the year 1799, Captain Amasa Delano, of Duxbury, in Massachusetts, +commanding a large sealer and general trader, lay at anchor with a +valuable cargo, in the harbor of St. Maria—a small, desert, uninhabited +island toward the southern extremity of the long coast of Chili. There +he had touched for water. + +On the second day, not long after dawn, while lying in his berth, his +mate came below, informing him that a strange sail was coming into the +bay. Ships were then not so plenty in those waters as now. He rose, +dressed, and went on deck. + +The morning was one peculiar to that coast. Everything was mute and +calm; everything gray. The sea, though undulated into long roods of +swells, seemed fixed, and was sleeked at the surface like waved lead +that has cooled and set in the smelter’s mould. The sky seemed a gray +surtout. Flights of troubled gray fowl, kith and kin with flights of +troubled gray vapors among which they were mixed, skimmed low and +fitfully over the waters, as swallows over meadows before storms. +Shadows present, foreshadowing deeper shadows to come. + +To Captain Delano’s surprise, the stranger, viewed through the glass, +showed no colors; though to do so upon entering a haven, however +uninhabited in its shores, where but a single other ship might be +lying, was the custom among peaceful seamen of all nations. Considering +the lawlessness and loneliness of the spot, and the sort of stories, at +that day, associated with those seas, Captain Delano’s surprise might +have deepened into some uneasiness had he not been a person of a +singularly undistrustful good-nature, not liable, except on +extraordinary and repeated incentives, and hardly then, to indulge in +personal alarms, any way involving the imputation of malign evil in +man. Whether, in view of what humanity is capable, such a trait +implies, along with a benevolent heart, more than ordinary quickness +and accuracy of intellectual perception, may be left to the wise to +determine. + +But whatever misgivings might have obtruded on first seeing the +stranger, would almost, in any seaman’s mind, have been dissipated by +observing that, the ship, in navigating into the harbor, was drawing +too near the land; a sunken reef making out off her bow. This seemed to +prove her a stranger, indeed, not only to the sealer, but the island; +consequently, she could be no wonted freebooter on that ocean. With no +small interest, Captain Delano continued to watch her—a proceeding not +much facilitated by the vapors partly mantling the hull, through which +the far matin light from her cabin streamed equivocally enough; much +like the sun—by this time hemisphered on the rim of the horizon, and, +apparently, in company with the strange ship entering the harbor—which, +wimpled by the same low, creeping clouds, showed not unlike a Lima +intriguante’s one sinister eye peering across the Plaza from the Indian +loop-hole of her dusk _saya-y-manta._ + +It might have been but a deception of the vapors, but, the longer the +stranger was watched the more singular appeared her manoeuvres. Ere +long it seemed hard to decide whether she meant to come in or no—what +she wanted, or what she was about. The wind, which had breezed up a +little during the night, was now extremely light and baffling, which +the more increased the apparent uncertainty of her movements. +Surmising, at last, that it might be a ship in distress, Captain Delano +ordered his whale-boat to be dropped, and, much to the wary opposition +of his mate, prepared to board her, and, at the least, pilot her in. On +the night previous, a fishing-party of the seamen had gone a long +distance to some detached rocks out of sight from the sealer, and, an +hour or two before daybreak, had returned, having met with no small +success. Presuming that the stranger might have been long off +soundings, the good captain put several baskets of the fish, for +presents, into his boat, and so pulled away. From her continuing too +near the sunken reef, deeming her in danger, calling to his men, he +made all haste to apprise those on board of their situation. But, some +time ere the boat came up, the wind, light though it was, having +shifted, had headed the vessel off, as well as partly broken the vapors +from about her. + +Upon gaining a less remote view, the ship, when made signally visible +on the verge of the leaden-hued swells, with the shreds of fog here and +there raggedly furring her, appeared like a white-washed monastery +after a thunder-storm, seen perched upon some dun cliff among the +Pyrenees. But it was no purely fanciful resemblance which now, for a +moment, almost led Captain Delano to think that nothing less than a +ship-load of monks was before him. Peering over the bulwarks were what +really seemed, in the hazy distance, throngs of dark cowls; while, +fitfully revealed through the open port-holes, other dark moving +figures were dimly descried, as of Black Friars pacing the cloisters. + +Upon a still nigher approach, this appearance was modified, and the +true character of the vessel was plain—a Spanish merchantman of the +first class, carrying negro slaves, amongst other valuable freight, +from one colonial port to another. A very large, and, in its time, a +very fine vessel, such as in those days were at intervals encountered +along that main; sometimes superseded Acapulco treasure-ships, or +retired frigates of the Spanish king’s navy, which, like superannuated +Italian palaces, still, under a decline of masters, preserved signs of +former state. + +As the whale-boat drew more and more nigh, the cause of the peculiar +pipe-clayed aspect of the stranger was seen in the slovenly neglect +pervading her. The spars, ropes, and great part of the bulwarks, looked +woolly, from long unacquaintance with the scraper, tar, and the brush. +Her keel seemed laid, her ribs put together, and she launched, from +Ezekiel’s Valley of Dry Bones. + +In the present business in which she was engaged, the ship’s general +model and rig appeared to have undergone no material change from their +original warlike and Froissart pattern. However, no guns were seen. + +The tops were large, and were railed about with what had once been +octagonal net-work, all now in sad disrepair. These tops hung overhead +like three ruinous aviaries, in one of which was seen, perched, on a +ratlin, a white noddy, a strange fowl, so called from its lethargic, +somnambulistic character, being frequently caught by hand at sea. +Battered and mouldy, the castellated forecastle seemed some ancient +turret, long ago taken by assault, and then left to decay. Toward the +stern, two high-raised quarter galleries—the balustrades here and there +covered with dry, tindery sea-moss—opening out from the unoccupied +state-cabin, whose dead-lights, for all the mild weather, were +hermetically closed and calked—these tenantless balconies hung over the +sea as if it were the grand Venetian canal. But the principal relic of +faded grandeur was the ample oval of the shield-like stern-piece, +intricately carved with the arms of Castile and Leon, medallioned about +by groups of mythological or symbolical devices; uppermost and central +of which was a dark satyr in a mask, holding his foot on the prostrate +neck of a writhing figure, likewise masked. + +Whether the ship had a figure-head, or only a plain beak, was not quite +certain, owing to canvas wrapped about that part, either to protect it +while undergoing a re-furbishing, or else decently to hide its decay. +Rudely painted or chalked, as in a sailor freak, along the forward side +of a sort of pedestal below the canvas, was the sentence, “_Seguid +vuestro jefe_” (follow your leader); while upon the tarnished +headboards, near by, appeared, in stately capitals, once gilt, the +ship’s name, “SAN DOMINICK,” each letter streakingly corroded with +tricklings of copper-spike rust; while, like mourning weeds, dark +festoons of sea-grass slimily swept to and fro over the name, with +every hearse-like roll of the hull. + +As, at last, the boat was hooked from the bow along toward the gangway +amidship, its keel, while yet some inches separated from the hull, +harshly grated as on a sunken coral reef. It proved a huge bunch of +conglobated barnacles adhering below the water to the side like a wen—a +token of baffling airs and long calms passed somewhere in those seas. + +Climbing the side, the visitor was at once surrounded by a clamorous +throng of whites and blacks, but the latter outnumbering the former +more than could have been expected, negro transportation-ship as the +stranger in port was. But, in one language, and as with one voice, all +poured out a common tale of suffering; in which the negresses, of whom +there were not a few, exceeded the others in their dolorous vehemence. +The scurvy, together with the fever, had swept off a great part of +their number, more especially the Spaniards. Off Cape Horn they had +narrowly escaped shipwreck; then, for days together, they had lain +tranced without wind; their provisions were low; their water next to +none; their lips that moment were baked. + +While Captain Delano was thus made the mark of all eager tongues, his +one eager glance took in all faces, with every other object about him. + +Always upon first boarding a large and populous ship at sea, especially +a foreign one, with a nondescript crew such as Lascars or Manilla men, +the impression varies in a peculiar way from that produced by first +entering a strange house with strange inmates in a strange land. Both +house and ship—the one by its walls and blinds, the other by its high +bulwarks like ramparts—hoard from view their interiors till the last +moment: but in the case of the ship there is this addition; that the +living spectacle it contains, upon its sudden and complete disclosure, +has, in contrast with the blank ocean which zones it, something of the +effect of enchantment. The ship seems unreal; these strange costumes, +gestures, and faces, but a shadowy tableau just emerged from the deep, +which directly must receive back what it gave. + +Perhaps it was some such influence, as above is attempted to be +described, which, in Captain Delano’s mind, heightened whatever, upon a +staid scrutiny, might have seemed unusual; especially the conspicuous +figures of four elderly grizzled negroes, their heads like black, +doddered willow tops, who, in venerable contrast to the tumult below +them, were couched, sphynx-like, one on the starboard cat-head, another +on the larboard, and the remaining pair face to face on the opposite +bulwarks above the main-chains. They each had bits of unstranded old +junk in their hands, and, with a sort of stoical self-content, were +picking the junk into oakum, a small heap of which lay by their sides. +They accompanied the task with a continuous, low, monotonous, chant; +droning and drilling away like so many gray-headed bag-pipers playing a +funeral march. + +The quarter-deck rose into an ample elevated poop, upon the forward +verge of which, lifted, like the oakum-pickers, some eight feet above +the general throng, sat along in a row, separated by regular spaces, +the cross-legged figures of six other blacks; each with a rusty hatchet +in his hand, which, with a bit of brick and a rag, he was engaged like +a scullion in scouring; while between each two was a small stack of +hatchets, their rusted edges turned forward awaiting a like operation. +Though occasionally the four oakum-pickers would briefly address some +person or persons in the crowd below, yet the six hatchet-polishers +neither spoke to others, nor breathed a whisper among themselves, but +sat intent upon their task, except at intervals, when, with the +peculiar love in negroes of uniting industry with pastime, two and two +they sideways clashed their hatchets together, like cymbals, with a +barbarous din. All six, unlike the generality, had the raw aspect of +unsophisticated Africans. + +But that first comprehensive glance which took in those ten figures, +with scores less conspicuous, rested but an instant upon them, as, +impatient of the hubbub of voices, the visitor turned in quest of +whomsoever it might be that commanded the ship. + +But as if not unwilling to let nature make known her own case among his +suffering charge, or else in despair of restraining it for the time, +the Spanish captain, a gentlemanly, reserved-looking, and rather young +man to a stranger’s eye, dressed with singular richness, but bearing +plain traces of recent sleepless cares and disquietudes, stood +passively by, leaning against the main-mast, at one moment casting a +dreary, spiritless look upon his excited people, at the next an unhappy +glance toward his visitor. By his side stood a black of small stature, +in whose rude face, as occasionally, like a shepherd’s dog, he mutely +turned it up into the Spaniard’s, sorrow and affection were equally +blended. + +Struggling through the throng, the American advanced to the Spaniard, +assuring him of his sympathies, and offering to render whatever +assistance might be in his power. To which the Spaniard returned for +the present but grave and ceremonious acknowledgments, his national +formality dusked by the saturnine mood of ill-health. + +But losing no time in mere compliments, Captain Delano, returning to +the gangway, had his basket of fish brought up; and as the wind still +continued light, so that some hours at least must elapse ere the ship +could be brought to the anchorage, he bade his men return to the +sealer, and fetch back as much water as the whale-boat could carry, +with whatever soft bread the steward might have, all the remaining +pumpkins on board, with a box of sugar, and a dozen of his private +bottles of cider. + +Not many minutes after the boat’s pushing off, to the vexation of all, +the wind entirely died away, and the tide turning, began drifting back +the ship helplessly seaward. But trusting this would not long last, +Captain Delano sought, with good hopes, to cheer up the strangers, +feeling no small satisfaction that, with persons in their condition, he +could—thanks to his frequent voyages along the Spanish main—converse +with some freedom in their native tongue. + +While left alone with them, he was not long in observing some things +tending to heighten his first impressions; but surprise was lost in +pity, both for the Spaniards and blacks, alike evidently reduced from +scarcity of water and provisions; while long-continued suffering seemed +to have brought out the less good-natured qualities of the negroes, +besides, at the same time, impairing the Spaniard’s authority over +them. But, under the circumstances, precisely this condition of things +was to have been anticipated. In armies, navies, cities, or families, +in nature herself, nothing more relaxes good order than misery. Still, +Captain Delano was not without the idea, that had Benito Cereno been a +man of greater energy, misrule would hardly have come to the present +pass. But the debility, constitutional or induced by hardships, bodily +and mental, of the Spanish captain, was too obvious to be overlooked. A +prey to settled dejection, as if long mocked with hope he would not now +indulge it, even when it had ceased to be a mock, the prospect of that +day, or evening at furthest, lying at anchor, with plenty of water for +his people, and a brother captain to counsel and befriend, seemed in no +perceptible degree to encourage him. His mind appeared unstrung, if not +still more seriously affected. Shut up in these oaken walls, chained to +one dull round of command, whose unconditionality cloyed him, like some +hypochondriac abbot he moved slowly about, at times suddenly pausing, +starting, or staring, biting his lip, biting his finger-nail, flushing, +paling, twitching his beard, with other symptoms of an absent or moody +mind. This distempered spirit was lodged, as before hinted, in as +distempered a frame. He was rather tall, but seemed never to have been +robust, and now with nervous suffering was almost worn to a skeleton. A +tendency to some pulmonary complaint appeared to have been lately +confirmed. His voice was like that of one with lungs half gone—hoarsely +suppressed, a husky whisper. No wonder that, as in this state he +tottered about, his private servant apprehensively followed him. +Sometimes the negro gave his master his arm, or took his handkerchief +out of his pocket for him; performing these and similar offices with +that affectionate zeal which transmutes into something filial or +fraternal acts in themselves but menial; and which has gained for the +negro the repute of making the most pleasing body-servant in the world; +one, too, whom a master need be on no stiffly superior terms with, but +may treat with familiar trust; less a servant than a devoted companion. + +Marking the noisy indocility of the blacks in general, as well as what +seemed the sullen inefficiency of the whites it was not without humane +satisfaction that Captain Delano witnessed the steady good conduct of +Babo. + +But the good conduct of Babo, hardly more than the ill-behavior of +others, seemed to withdraw the half-lunatic Don Benito from his cloudy +languor. Not that such precisely was the impression made by the +Spaniard on the mind of his visitor. The Spaniard’s individual unrest +was, for the present, but noted as a conspicuous feature in the ship’s +general affliction. Still, Captain Delano was not a little concerned at +what he could not help taking for the time to be Don Benito’s +unfriendly indifference towards himself. The Spaniard’s manner, too, +conveyed a sort of sour and gloomy disdain, which he seemed at no pains +to disguise. But this the American in charity ascribed to the harassing +effects of sickness, since, in former instances, he had noted that +there are peculiar natures on whom prolonged physical suffering seems +to cancel every social instinct of kindness; as if, forced to black +bread themselves, they deemed it but equity that each person coming +nigh them should, indirectly, by some slight or affront, be made to +partake of their fare. + +But ere long Captain Delano bethought him that, indulgent as he was at +the first, in judging the Spaniard, he might not, after all, have +exercised charity enough. At bottom it was Don Benito’s reserve which +displeased him; but the same reserve was shown towards all but his +faithful personal attendant. Even the formal reports which, according +to sea-usage, were, at stated times, made to him by some petty +underling, either a white, mulatto or black, he hardly had patience +enough to listen to, without betraying contemptuous aversion. His +manner upon such occasions was, in its degree, not unlike that which +might be supposed to have been his imperial countryman’s, Charles V., +just previous to the anchoritish retirement of that monarch from the +throne. + +This splenetic disrelish of his place was evinced in almost every +function pertaining to it. Proud as he was moody, he condescended to no +personal mandate. Whatever special orders were necessary, their +delivery was delegated to his body-servant, who in turn transferred +them to their ultimate destination, through runners, alert Spanish boys +or slave boys, like pages or pilot-fish within easy call continually +hovering round Don Benito. So that to have beheld this undemonstrative +invalid gliding about, apathetic and mute, no landsman could have +dreamed that in him was lodged a dictatorship beyond which, while at +sea, there was no earthly appeal. + +Thus, the Spaniard, regarded in his reserve, seemed the involuntary +victim of mental disorder. But, in fact, his reserve might, in some +degree, have proceeded from design. If so, then here was evinced the +unhealthy climax of that icy though conscientious policy, more or less +adopted by all commanders of large ships, which, except in signal +emergencies, obliterates alike the manifestation of sway with every +trace of sociality; transforming the man into a block, or rather into a +loaded cannon, which, until there is call for thunder, has nothing to +say. + +Viewing him in this light, it seemed but a natural token of the +perverse habit induced by a long course of such hard self-restraint, +that, notwithstanding the present condition of his ship, the Spaniard +should still persist in a demeanor, which, however harmless, or, it may +be, appropriate, in a well-appointed vessel, such as the San Dominick +might have been at the outset of the voyage, was anything but judicious +now. But the Spaniard, perhaps, thought that it was with captains as +with gods: reserve, under all events, must still be their cue. But +probably this appearance of slumbering dominion might have been but an +attempted disguise to conscious imbecility—not deep policy, but shallow +device. But be all this as it might, whether Don Benito’s manner was +designed or not, the more Captain Delano noted its pervading reserve, +the less he felt uneasiness at any particular manifestation of that +reserve towards himself. + +Neither were his thoughts taken up by the captain alone. Wonted to the +quiet orderliness of the sealer’s comfortable family of a crew, the +noisy confusion of the San Dominick’s suffering host repeatedly +challenged his eye. Some prominent breaches, not only of discipline but +of decency, were observed. These Captain Delano could not but ascribe, +in the main, to the absence of those subordinate deck-officers to whom, +along with higher duties, is intrusted what may be styled the police +department of a populous ship. True, the old oakum-pickers appeared at +times to act the part of monitorial constables to their countrymen, the +blacks; but though occasionally succeeding in allaying trifling +outbreaks now and then between man and man, they could do little or +nothing toward establishing general quiet. The San Dominick was in the +condition of a transatlantic emigrant ship, among whose multitude of +living freight are some individuals, doubtless, as little troublesome +as crates and bales; but the friendly remonstrances of such with their +ruder companions are of not so much avail as the unfriendly arm of the +mate. What the San Dominick wanted was, what the emigrant ship has, +stern superior officers. But on these decks not so much as a +fourth-mate was to be seen. + +The visitor’s curiosity was roused to learn the particulars of those +mishaps which had brought about such absenteeism, with its +consequences; because, though deriving some inkling of the voyage from +the wails which at the first moment had greeted him, yet of the details +no clear understanding had been had. The best account would, doubtless, +be given by the captain. Yet at first the visitor was loth to ask it, +unwilling to provoke some distant rebuff. But plucking up courage, he +at last accosted Don Benito, renewing the expression of his benevolent +interest, adding, that did he (Captain Delano) but know the particulars +of the ship’s misfortunes, he would, perhaps, be better able in the end +to relieve them. Would Don Benito favor him with the whole story. + +Don Benito faltered; then, like some somnambulist suddenly interfered +with, vacantly stared at his visitor, and ended by looking down on the +deck. He maintained this posture so long, that Captain Delano, almost +equally disconcerted, and involuntarily almost as rude, turned suddenly +from him, walking forward to accost one of the Spanish seamen for the +desired information. But he had hardly gone five paces, when, with a +sort of eagerness, Don Benito invited him back, regretting his +momentary absence of mind, and professing readiness to gratify him. + +While most part of the story was being given, the two captains stood on +the after part of the main-deck, a privileged spot, no one being near +but the servant. + +“It is now a hundred and ninety days,” began the Spaniard, in his husky +whisper, “that this ship, well officered and well manned, with several +cabin passengers—some fifty Spaniards in all—sailed from Buenos Ayres +bound to Lima, with a general cargo, hardware, Paraguay tea and the +like—and,” pointing forward, “that parcel of negroes, now not more than +a hundred and fifty, as you see, but then numbering over three hundred +souls. Off Cape Horn we had heavy gales. In one moment, by night, three +of my best officers, with fifteen sailors, were lost, with the +main-yard; the spar snapping under them in the slings, as they sought, +with heavers, to beat down the icy sail. To lighten the hull, the +heavier sacks of mata were thrown into the sea, with most of the +water-pipes lashed on deck at the time. And this last necessity it was, +combined with the prolonged detections afterwards experienced, which +eventually brought about our chief causes of suffering. When—” + +Here there was a sudden fainting attack of his cough, brought on, no +doubt, by his mental distress. His servant sustained him, and drawing a +cordial from his pocket placed it to his lips. He a little revived. But +unwilling to leave him unsupported while yet imperfectly restored, the +black with one arm still encircled his master, at the same time keeping +his eye fixed on his face, as if to watch for the first sign of +complete restoration, or relapse, as the event might prove. + +The Spaniard proceeded, but brokenly and obscurely, as one in a dream. + +—“Oh, my God! rather than pass through what I have, with joy I would +have hailed the most terrible gales; but—” + +His cough returned and with increased violence; this subsiding; with +reddened lips and closed eyes he fell heavily against his supporter. + +“His mind wanders. He was thinking of the plague that followed the +gales,” plaintively sighed the servant; “my poor, poor master!” +wringing one hand, and with the other wiping the mouth. “But be +patient, Señor,” again turning to Captain Delano, “these fits do not +last long; master will soon be himself.” + +Don Benito reviving, went on; but as this portion of the story was very +brokenly delivered, the substance only will here be set down. + +It appeared that after the ship had been many days tossed in storms off +the Cape, the scurvy broke out, carrying off numbers of the whites and +blacks. When at last they had worked round into the Pacific, their +spars and sails were so damaged, and so inadequately handled by the +surviving mariners, most of whom were become invalids, that, unable to +lay her northerly course by the wind, which was powerful, the +unmanageable ship, for successive days and nights, was blown +northwestward, where the breeze suddenly deserted her, in unknown +waters, to sultry calms. The absence of the water-pipes now proved as +fatal to life as before their presence had menaced it. Induced, or at +least aggravated, by the more than scanty allowance of water, a +malignant fever followed the scurvy; with the excessive heat of the +lengthened calm, making such short work of it as to sweep away, as by +billows, whole families of the Africans, and a yet larger number, +proportionably, of the Spaniards, including, by a luckless fatality, +every remaining officer on board. Consequently, in the smart west winds +eventually following the calm, the already rent sails, having to be +simply dropped, not furled, at need, had been gradually reduced to the +beggars’ rags they were now. To procure substitutes for his lost +sailors, as well as supplies of water and sails, the captain, at the +earliest opportunity, had made for Baldivia, the southernmost civilized +port of Chili and South America; but upon nearing the coast the thick +weather had prevented him from so much as sighting that harbor. Since +which period, almost without a crew, and almost without canvas and +almost without water, and, at intervals giving its added dead to the +sea, the San Dominick had been battle-dored about by contrary winds, +inveigled by currents, or grown weedy in calms. Like a man lost in +woods, more than once she had doubled upon her own track. + +“But throughout these calamities,” huskily continued Don Benito, +painfully turning in the half embrace of his servant, “I have to thank +those negroes you see, who, though to your inexperienced eyes appearing +unruly, have, indeed, conducted themselves with less of restlessness +than even their owner could have thought possible under such +circumstances.” + +Here he again fell faintly back. Again his mind wandered; but he +rallied, and less obscurely proceeded. + +“Yes, their owner was quite right in assuring me that no fetters would +be needed with his blacks; so that while, as is wont in this +transportation, those negroes have always remained upon deck—not thrust +below, as in the Guinea-men—they have, also, from the beginning, been +freely permitted to range within given bounds at their pleasure.” + +Once more the faintness returned—his mind roved—but, recovering, he +resumed: + +“But it is Babo here to whom, under God, I owe not only my own +preservation, but likewise to him, chiefly, the merit is due, of +pacifying his more ignorant brethren, when at intervals tempted to +murmurings.” + +“Ah, master,” sighed the black, bowing his face, “don’t speak of me; +Babo is nothing; what Babo has done was but duty.” + +“Faithful fellow!” cried Captain Delano. “Don Benito, I envy you such a +friend; slave I cannot call him.” + +As master and man stood before him, the black upholding the white, +Captain Delano could not but bethink him of the beauty of that +relationship which could present such a spectacle of fidelity on the +one hand and confidence on the other. The scene was heightened by, the +contrast in dress, denoting their relative positions. The Spaniard wore +a loose Chili jacket of dark velvet; white small-clothes and stockings, +with silver buckles at the knee and instep; a high-crowned sombrero, of +fine grass; a slender sword, silver mounted, hung from a knot in his +sash—the last being an almost invariable adjunct, more for utility than +ornament, of a South American gentleman’s dress to this hour. Excepting +when his occasional nervous contortions brought about disarray, there +was a certain precision in his attire curiously at variance with the +unsightly disorder around; especially in the belittered Ghetto, forward +of the main-mast, wholly occupied by the blacks. + +The servant wore nothing but wide trowsers, apparently, from their +coarseness and patches, made out of some old topsail; they were clean, +and confined at the waist by a bit of unstranded rope, which, with his +composed, deprecatory air at times, made him look something like a +begging friar of St. Francis. + +However unsuitable for the time and place, at least in the +blunt-thinking American’s eyes, and however strangely surviving in the +midst of all his afflictions, the toilette of Don Benito might not, in +fashion at least, have gone beyond the style of the day among South +Americans of his class. Though on the present voyage sailing from +Buenos Ayres, he had avowed himself a native and resident of Chili, +whose inhabitants had not so generally adopted the plain coat and once +plebeian pantaloons; but, with a becoming modification, adhered to +their provincial costume, picturesque as any in the world. Still, +relatively to the pale history of the voyage, and his own pale face, +there seemed something so incongruous in the Spaniard’s apparel, as +almost to suggest the image of an invalid courtier tottering about +London streets in the time of the plague. + +The portion of the narrative which, perhaps, most excited interest, as +well as some surprise, considering the latitudes in question, was the +long calms spoken of, and more particularly the ship’s so long drifting +about. Without communicating the opinion, of course, the American could +not but impute at least part of the detentions both to clumsy +seamanship and faulty navigation. Eying Don Benito’s small, yellow +hands, he easily inferred that the young captain had not got into +command at the hawse-hole, but the cabin-window; and if so, why wonder +at incompetence, in youth, sickness, and gentility united? + +But drowning criticism in compassion, after a fresh repetition of his +sympathies, Captain Delano, having heard out his story, not only +engaged, as in the first place, to see Don Benito and his people +supplied in their immediate bodily needs, but, also, now farther +promised to assist him in procuring a large permanent supply of water, +as well as some sails and rigging; and, though it would involve no +small embarrassment to himself, yet he would spare three of his best +seamen for temporary deck officers; so that without delay the ship +might proceed to Conception, there fully to refit for Lima, her +destined port. + +Such generosity was not without its effect, even upon the invalid. His +face lighted up; eager and hectic, he met the honest glance of his +visitor. With gratitude he seemed overcome. + +“This excitement is bad for master,” whispered the servant, taking his +arm, and with soothing words gently drawing him aside. + +When Don Benito returned, the American was pained to observe that his +hopefulness, like the sudden kindling in his cheek, was but febrile and +transient. + +Ere long, with a joyless mien, looking up towards the poop, the host +invited his guest to accompany him there, for the benefit of what +little breath of wind might be stirring. + +As, during the telling of the story, Captain Delano had once or twice +started at the occasional cymballing of the hatchet-polishers, +wondering why such an interruption should be allowed, especially in +that part of the ship, and in the ears of an invalid; and moreover, as +the hatchets had anything but an attractive look, and the handlers of +them still less so, it was, therefore, to tell the truth, not without +some lurking reluctance, or even shrinking, it may be, that Captain +Delano, with apparent complaisance, acquiesced in his host’s +invitation. The more so, since, with an untimely caprice of punctilio, +rendered distressing by his cadaverous aspect, Don Benito, with +Castilian bows, solemnly insisted upon his guest’s preceding him up the +ladder leading to the elevation; where, one on each side of the last +step, sat for armorial supporters and sentries two of the ominous file. +Gingerly enough stepped good Captain Delano between them, and in the +instant of leaving them behind, like one running the gauntlet, he felt +an apprehensive twitch in the calves of his legs. + +But when, facing about, he saw the whole file, like so many +organ-grinders, still stupidly intent on their work, unmindful of +everything beside, he could not but smile at his late fidgety panic. + +Presently, while standing with his host, looking forward upon the decks +below, he was struck by one of those instances of insubordination +previously alluded to. Three black boys, with two Spanish boys, were +sitting together on the hatches, scraping a rude wooden platter, in +which some scanty mess had recently been cooked. Suddenly, one of the +black boys, enraged at a word dropped by one of his white companions, +seized a knife, and, though called to forbear by one of the +oakum-pickers, struck the lad over the head, inflicting a gash from +which blood flowed. + +In amazement, Captain Delano inquired what this meant. To which the +pale Don Benito dully muttered, that it was merely the sport of the +lad. + +“Pretty serious sport, truly,” rejoined Captain Delano. “Had such a +thing happened on board the Bachelor’s Delight, instant punishment +would have followed.” + +At these words the Spaniard turned upon the American one of his sudden, +staring, half-lunatic looks; then, relapsing into his torpor, answered, +“Doubtless, doubtless, Señor.” + +Is it, thought Captain Delano, that this hapless man is one of those +paper captains I’ve known, who by policy wink at what by power they +cannot put down? I know no sadder sight than a commander who has little +of command but the name. + +“I should think, Don Benito,” he now said, glancing towards the +oakum-picker who had sought to interfere with the boys, “that you would +find it advantageous to keep all your blacks employed, especially the +younger ones, no matter at what useless task, and no matter what +happens to the ship. Why, even with my little band, I find such a +course indispensable. I once kept a crew on my quarter-deck thrumming +mats for my cabin, when, for three days, I had given up my ship—mats, +men, and all—for a speedy loss, owing to the violence of a gale, in +which we could do nothing but helplessly drive before it.” + +“Doubtless, doubtless,” muttered Don Benito. + +“But,” continued Captain Delano, again glancing upon the oakum-pickers +and then at the hatchet-polishers, near by, “I see you keep some, at +least, of your host employed.” + +“Yes,” was again the vacant response. + +“Those old men there, shaking their pows from their pulpits,” continued +Captain Delano, pointing to the oakum-pickers, “seem to act the part of +old dominies to the rest, little heeded as their admonitions are at +times. Is this voluntary on their part, Don Benito, or have you +appointed them shepherds to your flock of black sheep?” + +“What posts they fill, I appointed them,” rejoined the Spaniard, in an +acrid tone, as if resenting some supposed satiric reflection. + +“And these others, these Ashantee conjurors here,” continued Captain +Delano, rather uneasily eying the brandished steel of the +hatchet-polishers, where, in spots, it had been brought to a shine, +“this seems a curious business they are at, Don Benito?” + +“In the gales we met,” answered the Spaniard, “what of our general +cargo was not thrown overboard was much damaged by the brine. Since +coming into calm weather, I have had several cases of knives and +hatchets daily brought up for overhauling and cleaning.” + +“A prudent idea, Don Benito. You are part owner of ship and cargo, I +presume; but none of the slaves, perhaps?” + +“I am owner of all you see,” impatiently returned Don Benito, “except +the main company of blacks, who belonged to my late friend, Alexandro +Aranda.” + +As he mentioned this name, his air was heart-broken; his knees shook; +his servant supported him. + +Thinking he divined the cause of such unusual emotion, to confirm his +surmise, Captain Delano, after a pause, said: “And may I ask, Don +Benito, whether—since awhile ago you spoke of some cabin passengers—the +friend, whose loss so afflicts you, at the outset of the voyage +accompanied his blacks?” + +“Yes.” + +“But died of the fever?” + +“Died of the fever. Oh, could I but—” + +Again quivering, the Spaniard paused. + +“Pardon me,” said Captain Delano, lowly, “but I think that, by a +sympathetic experience, I conjecture, Don Benito, what it is that gives +the keener edge to your grief. It was once my hard fortune to lose, at +sea, a dear friend, my own brother, then supercargo. Assured of the +welfare of his spirit, its departure I could have borne like a man; but +that honest eye, that honest hand—both of which had so often met +mine—and that warm heart; all, all—like scraps to the dogs—to throw all +to the sharks! It was then I vowed never to have for fellow-voyager a +man I loved, unless, unbeknown to him, I had provided every requisite, +in case of a fatality, for embalming his mortal part for interment on +shore. Were your friend’s remains now on board this ship, Don Benito, +not thus strangely would the mention of his name affect you.” + +“On board this ship?” echoed the Spaniard. Then, with horrified +gestures, as directed against some spectre, he unconsciously fell into +the ready arms of his attendant, who, with a silent appeal toward +Captain Delano, seemed beseeching him not again to broach a theme so +unspeakably distressing to his master. + +This poor fellow now, thought the pained American, is the victim of +that sad superstition which associates goblins with the deserted body +of man, as ghosts with an abandoned house. How unlike are we made! What +to me, in like case, would have been a solemn satisfaction, the bare +suggestion, even, terrifies the Spaniard into this trance. Poor +Alexandro Aranda! what would you say could you here see your +friend—who, on former voyages, when you, for months, were left behind, +has, I dare say, often longed, and longed, for one peep at you—now +transported with terror at the least thought of having you anyway nigh +him. + +At this moment, with a dreary grave-yard toll, betokening a flaw, the +ship’s forecastle bell, smote by one of the grizzled oakum-pickers, +proclaimed ten o’clock, through the leaden calm; when Captain Delano’s +attention was caught by the moving figure of a gigantic black, emerging +from the general crowd below, and slowly advancing towards the elevated +poop. An iron collar was about his neck, from which depended a chain, +thrice wound round his body; the terminating links padlocked together +at a broad band of iron, his girdle. + +“How like a mute Atufal moves,” murmured the servant. + +The black mounted the steps of the poop, and, like a brave prisoner, +brought up to receive sentence, stood in unquailing muteness before Don +Benito, now recovered from his attack. + +At the first glimpse of his approach, Don Benito had started, a +resentful shadow swept over his face; and, as with the sudden memory of +bootless rage, his white lips glued together. + +This is some mulish mutineer, thought Captain Delano, surveying, not +without a mixture of admiration, the colossal form of the negro. + +“See, he waits your question, master,” said the servant. + +Thus reminded, Don Benito, nervously averting his glance, as if +shunning, by anticipation, some rebellious response, in a disconcerted +voice, thus spoke:— + +“Atufal, will you ask my pardon, now?” + +The black was silent. + +“Again, master,” murmured the servant, with bitter upbraiding eyeing +his countryman, “Again, master; he will bend to master yet.” + +“Answer,” said Don Benito, still averting his glance, “say but the one +word, _pardon_, and your chains shall be off.” + +Upon this, the black, slowly raising both arms, let them lifelessly +fall, his links clanking, his head bowed; as much as to say, “no, I am +content.” + +“Go,” said Don Benito, with inkept and unknown emotion. + +Deliberately as he had come, the black obeyed. + +“Excuse me, Don Benito,” said Captain Delano, “but this scene surprises +me; what means it, pray?” + +“It means that that negro alone, of all the band, has given me peculiar +cause of offense. I have put him in chains; I—” + +Here he paused; his hand to his head, as if there were a swimming +there, or a sudden bewilderment of memory had come over him; but +meeting his servant’s kindly glance seemed reassured, and proceeded:— + +“I could not scourge such a form. But I told him he must ask my pardon. +As yet he has not. At my command, every two hours he stands before me.” + +“And how long has this been?” + +“Some sixty days.” + +“And obedient in all else? And respectful?” + +“Yes.” + +“Upon my conscience, then,” exclaimed Captain Delano, impulsively, “he +has a royal spirit in him, this fellow.” + +“He may have some right to it,” bitterly returned Don Benito, “he says +he was king in his own land.” + +“Yes,” said the servant, entering a word, “those slits in Atufal’s ears +once held wedges of gold; but poor Babo here, in his own land, was only +a poor slave; a black man’s slave was Babo, who now is the white’s.” + +Somewhat annoyed by these conversational familiarities, Captain Delano +turned curiously upon the attendant, then glanced inquiringly at his +master; but, as if long wonted to these little informalities, neither +master nor man seemed to understand him. + +“What, pray, was Atufal’s offense, Don Benito?” asked Captain Delano; +“if it was not something very serious, take a fool’s advice, and, in +view of his general docility, as well as in some natural respect for +his spirit, remit him his penalty.” + +“No, no, master never will do that,” here murmured the servant to +himself, “proud Atufal must first ask master’s pardon. The slave there +carries the padlock, but master here carries the key.” + +His attention thus directed, Captain Delano now noticed for the first, +that, suspended by a slender silken cord, from Don Benito’s neck, hung +a key. At once, from the servant’s muttered syllables, divining the +key’s purpose, he smiled, and said:—“So, Don Benito—padlock and +key—significant symbols, truly.” + +Biting his lip, Don Benito faltered. + +Though the remark of Captain Delano, a man of such native simplicity as +to be incapable of satire or irony, had been dropped in playful +allusion to the Spaniard’s singularly evidenced lordship over the +black; yet the hypochondriac seemed some way to have taken it as a +malicious reflection upon his confessed inability thus far to break +down, at least, on a verbal summons, the entrenched will of the slave. +Deploring this supposed misconception, yet despairing of correcting it, +Captain Delano shifted the subject; but finding his companion more than +ever withdrawn, as if still sourly digesting the lees of the presumed +affront above-mentioned, by-and-by Captain Delano likewise became less +talkative, oppressed, against his own will, by what seemed the secret +vindictiveness of the morbidly sensitive Spaniard. But the good sailor, +himself of a quite contrary disposition, refrained, on his part, alike +from the appearance as from the feeling of resentment, and if silent, +was only so from contagion. + +Presently the Spaniard, assisted by his servant somewhat discourteously +crossed over from his guest; a procedure which, sensibly enough, might +have been allowed to pass for idle caprice of ill-humor, had not master +and man, lingering round the corner of the elevated skylight, began +whispering together in low voices. This was unpleasing. And more; the +moody air of the Spaniard, which at times had not been without a sort +of valetudinarian stateliness, now seemed anything but dignified; while +the menial familiarity of the servant lost its original charm of +simple-hearted attachment. + +In his embarrassment, the visitor turned his face to the other side of +the ship. By so doing, his glance accidentally fell on a young Spanish +sailor, a coil of rope in his hand, just stepped from the deck to the +first round of the mizzen-rigging. Perhaps the man would not have been +particularly noticed, were it not that, during his ascent to one of the +yards, he, with a sort of covert intentness, kept his eye fixed on +Captain Delano, from whom, presently, it passed, as if by a natural +sequence, to the two whisperers. + +His own attention thus redirected to that quarter, Captain Delano gave +a slight start. From something in Don Benito’s manner just then, it +seemed as if the visitor had, at least partly, been the subject of the +withdrawn consultation going on—a conjecture as little agreeable to the +guest as it was little flattering to the host. + +The singular alternations of courtesy and ill-breeding in the Spanish +captain were unaccountable, except on one of two suppositions—innocent +lunacy, or wicked imposture. + +But the first idea, though it might naturally have occurred to an +indifferent observer, and, in some respect, had not hitherto been +wholly a stranger to Captain Delano’s mind, yet, now that, in an +incipient way, he began to regard the stranger’s conduct something in +the light of an intentional affront, of course the idea of lunacy was +virtually vacated. But if not a lunatic, what then? Under the +circumstances, would a gentleman, nay, any honest boor, act the part +now acted by his host? The man was an impostor. Some low-born +adventurer, masquerading as an oceanic grandee; yet so ignorant of the +first requisites of mere gentlemanhood as to be betrayed into the +present remarkable indecorum. That strange ceremoniousness, too, at +other times evinced, seemed not uncharacteristic of one playing a part +above his real level. Benito Cereno—Don Benito Cereno—a sounding name. +One, too, at that period, not unknown, in the surname, to super-cargoes +and sea captains trading along the Spanish Main, as belonging to one of +the most enterprising and extensive mercantile families in all those +provinces; several members of it having titles; a sort of Castilian +Rothschild, with a noble brother, or cousin, in every great trading +town of South America. The alleged Don Benito was in early manhood, +about twenty-nine or thirty. To assume a sort of roving cadetship in +the maritime affairs of such a house, what more likely scheme for a +young knave of talent and spirit? But the Spaniard was a pale invalid. +Never mind. For even to the degree of simulating mortal disease, the +craft of some tricksters had been known to attain. To think that, under +the aspect of infantile weakness, the most savage energies might be +couched—those velvets of the Spaniard but the silky paw to his fangs. + +From no train of thought did these fancies come; not from within, but +from without; suddenly, too, and in one throng, like hoar frost; yet as +soon to vanish as the mild sun of Captain Delano’s good-nature regained +its meridian. + +Glancing over once more towards his host—whose side-face, revealed +above the skylight, was now turned towards him—he was struck by the +profile, whose clearness of cut was refined by the thinness, incident +to ill-health, as well as ennobled about the chin by the beard. Away +with suspicion. He was a true off-shoot of a true hidalgo Cereno. + +Relieved by these and other better thoughts, the visitor, lightly +humming a tune, now began indifferently pacing the poop, so as not to +betray to Don Benito that he had at all mistrusted incivility, much +less duplicity; for such mistrust would yet be proved illusory, and by +the event; though, for the present, the circumstance which had provoked +that distrust remained unexplained. But when that little mystery should +have been cleared up, Captain Delano thought he might extremely regret +it, did he allow Don Benito to become aware that he had indulged in +ungenerous surmises. In short, to the Spaniard’s black-letter text, it +was best, for awhile, to leave open margin. + +Presently, his pale face twitching and overcast, the Spaniard, still +supported by his attendant, moved over towards his guest, when, with +even more than his usual embarrassment, and a strange sort of +intriguing intonation in his husky whisper, the following conversation +began:— + +“Señor, may I ask how long you have lain at this isle?” + +“Oh, but a day or two, Don Benito.” + +“And from what port are you last?” + +“Canton.” + +“And there, Señor, you exchanged your sealskins for teas and silks, I +think you said?” + +“Yes, Silks, mostly.” + +“And the balance you took in specie, perhaps?” + +Captain Delano, fidgeting a little, answered— + +“Yes; some silver; not a very great deal, though.” + +“Ah—well. May I ask how many men have you, Señor?” + +Captain Delano slightly started, but answered— + +“About five-and-twenty, all told.” + +“And at present, Señor, all on board, I suppose?” + +“All on board, Don Benito,” replied the Captain, now with satisfaction. + +“And will be to-night, Señor?” + +At this last question, following so many pertinacious ones, for the +soul of him Captain Delano could not but look very earnestly at the +questioner, who, instead of meeting the glance, with every token of +craven discomposure dropped his eyes to the deck; presenting an +unworthy contrast to his servant, who, just then, was kneeling at his +feet, adjusting a loose shoe-buckle; his disengaged face meantime, with +humble curiosity, turned openly up into his master’s downcast one. + +The Spaniard, still with a guilty shuffle, repeated his question: + +“And—and will be to-night, Señor?” + +“Yes, for aught I know,” returned Captain Delano—“but nay,” rallying +himself into fearless truth, “some of them talked of going off on +another fishing party about midnight.” + +“Your ships generally go—go more or less armed, I believe, Señor?” + +“Oh, a six-pounder or two, in case of emergency,” was the intrepidly +indifferent reply, “with a small stock of muskets, sealing-spears, and +cutlasses, you know.” + +As he thus responded, Captain Delano again glanced at Don Benito, but +the latter’s eyes were averted; while abruptly and awkwardly shifting +the subject, he made some peevish allusion to the calm, and then, +without apology, once more, with his attendant, withdrew to the +opposite bulwarks, where the whispering was resumed. + +At this moment, and ere Captain Delano could cast a cool thought upon +what had just passed, the young Spanish sailor, before mentioned, was +seen descending from the rigging. In act of stooping over to spring +inboard to the deck, his voluminous, unconfined frock, or shirt, of +coarse woolen, much spotted with tar, opened out far down the chest, +revealing a soiled under garment of what seemed the finest linen, +edged, about the neck, with a narrow blue ribbon, sadly faded and worn. +At this moment the young sailor’s eye was again fixed on the +whisperers, and Captain Delano thought he observed a lurking +significance in it, as if silent signs, of some Freemason sort, had +that instant been interchanged. + +This once more impelled his own glance in the direction of Don Benito, +and, as before, he could not but infer that himself formed the subject +of the conference. He paused. The sound of the hatchet-polishing fell +on his ears. He cast another swift side-look at the two. They had the +air of conspirators. In connection with the late questionings, and the +incident of the young sailor, these things now begat such return of +involuntary suspicion, that the singular guilelessness of the American +could not endure it. Plucking up a gay and humorous expression, he +crossed over to the two rapidly, saying:—“Ha, Don Benito, your black +here seems high in your trust; a sort of privy-counselor, in fact.” + +Upon this, the servant looked up with a good-natured grin, but the +master started as from a venomous bite. It was a moment or two before +the Spaniard sufficiently recovered himself to reply; which he did, at +last, with cold constraint:—“Yes, Señor, I have trust in Babo.” + +Here Babo, changing his previous grin of mere animal humor into an +intelligent smile, not ungratefully eyed his master. + +Finding that the Spaniard now stood silent and reserved, as if +involuntarily, or purposely giving hint that his guest’s proximity was +inconvenient just then, Captain Delano, unwilling to appear uncivil +even to incivility itself, made some trivial remark and moved off; +again and again turning over in his mind the mysterious demeanor of Don +Benito Cereno. + +He had descended from the poop, and, wrapped in thought, was passing +near a dark hatchway, leading down into the steerage, when, perceiving +motion there, he looked to see what moved. The same instant there was a +sparkle in the shadowy hatchway, and he saw one of the Spanish sailors, +prowling there hurriedly placing his hand in the bosom of his frock, as +if hiding something. Before the man could have been certain who it was +that was passing, he slunk below out of sight. But enough was seen of +him to make it sure that he was the same young sailor before noticed in +the rigging. + +What was that which so sparkled? thought Captain Delano. It was no +lamp—no match—no live coal. Could it have been a jewel? But how come +sailors with jewels?—or with silk-trimmed under-shirts either? Has he +been robbing the trunks of the dead cabin-passengers? But if so, he +would hardly wear one of the stolen articles on board ship here. Ah, +ah—if, now, that was, indeed, a secret sign I saw passing between this +suspicious fellow and his captain awhile since; if I could only be +certain that, in my uneasiness, my senses did not deceive me, then— + +Here, passing from one suspicious thing to another, his mind revolved +the strange questions put to him concerning his ship. + +By a curious coincidence, as each point was recalled, the black wizards +of Ashantee would strike up with their hatchets, as in ominous comment +on the white stranger’s thoughts. Pressed by such enigmas and portents, +it would have been almost against nature, had not, even into the least +distrustful heart, some ugly misgivings obtruded. + +Observing the ship, now helplessly fallen into a current, with +enchanted sails, drifting with increased rapidity seaward; and noting +that, from a lately intercepted projection of the land, the sealer was +hidden, the stout mariner began to quake at thoughts which he barely +durst confess to himself. Above all, he began to feel a ghostly dread +of Don Benito. And yet, when he roused himself, dilated his chest, felt +himself strong on his legs, and coolly considered it—what did all these +phantoms amount to? + +Had the Spaniard any sinister scheme, it must have reference not so +much to him (Captain Delano) as to his ship (the Bachelor’s Delight). +Hence the present drifting away of the one ship from the other, instead +of favoring any such possible scheme, was, for the time, at least, +opposed to it. Clearly any suspicion, combining such contradictions, +must need be delusive. Beside, was it not absurd to think of a vessel +in distress—a vessel by sickness almost dismanned of her crew—a vessel +whose inmates were parched for water—was it not a thousand times absurd +that such a craft should, at present, be of a piratical character; or +her commander, either for himself or those under him, cherish any +desire but for speedy relief and refreshment? But then, might not +general distress, and thirst in particular, be affected? And might not +that same undiminished Spanish crew, alleged to have perished off to a +remnant, be at that very moment lurking in the hold? On heart-broken +pretense of entreating a cup of cold water, fiends in human form had +got into lonely dwellings, nor retired until a dark deed had been done. +And among the Malay pirates, it was no unusual thing to lure ships +after them into their treacherous harbors, or entice boarders from a +declared enemy at sea, by the spectacle of thinly manned or vacant +decks, beneath which prowled a hundred spears with yellow arms ready to +upthrust them through the mats. Not that Captain Delano had entirely +credited such things. He had heard of them—and now, as stories, they +recurred. The present destination of the ship was the anchorage. There +she would be near his own vessel. Upon gaining that vicinity, might not +the San Dominick, like a slumbering volcano, suddenly let loose +energies now hid? + +He recalled the Spaniard’s manner while telling his story. There was a +gloomy hesitancy and subterfuge about it. It was just the manner of one +making up his tale for evil purposes, as he goes. But if that story was +not true, what was the truth? That the ship had unlawfully come into +the Spaniard’s possession? But in many of its details, especially in +reference to the more calamitous parts, such as the fatalities among +the seamen, the consequent prolonged beating about, the past sufferings +from obstinate calms, and still continued suffering from thirst; in all +these points, as well as others, Don Benito’s story had corroborated +not only the wailing ejaculations of the indiscriminate multitude, +white and black, but likewise—what seemed impossible to be +counterfeit—by the very expression and play of every human feature, +which Captain Delano saw. If Don Benito’s story was, throughout, an +invention, then every soul on board, down to the youngest negress, was +his carefully drilled recruit in the plot: an incredible inference. And +yet, if there was ground for mistrusting his veracity, that inference +was a legitimate one. + +But those questions of the Spaniard. There, indeed, one might pause. +Did they not seem put with much the same object with which the burglar +or assassin, by day-time, reconnoitres the walls of a house? But, with +ill purposes, to solicit such information openly of the chief person +endangered, and so, in effect, setting him on his guard; how unlikely a +procedure was that? Absurd, then, to suppose that those questions had +been prompted by evil designs. Thus, the same conduct, which, in this +instance, had raised the alarm, served to dispel it. In short, scarce +any suspicion or uneasiness, however apparently reasonable at the time, +which was not now, with equal apparent reason, dismissed. + +At last he began to laugh at his former forebodings; and laugh at the +strange ship for, in its aspect, someway siding with them, as it were; +and laugh, too, at the odd-looking blacks, particularly those old +scissors-grinders, the Ashantees; and those bed-ridden old knitting +women, the oakum-pickers; and almost at the dark Spaniard himself, the +central hobgoblin of all. + +For the rest, whatever in a serious way seemed enigmatical, was now +good-naturedly explained away by the thought that, for the most part, +the poor invalid scarcely knew what he was about; either sulking in +black vapors, or putting idle questions without sense or object. +Evidently for the present, the man was not fit to be intrusted with the +ship. On some benevolent plea withdrawing the command from him, Captain +Delano would yet have to send her to Conception, in charge of his +second mate, a worthy person and good navigator—a plan not more +convenient for the San Dominick than for Don Benito; for, relieved from +all anxiety, keeping wholly to his cabin, the sick man, under the good +nursing of his servant, would, probably, by the end of the passage, be +in a measure restored to health, and with that he should also be +restored to authority. + +Such were the American’s thoughts. They were tranquilizing. There was a +difference between the idea of Don Benito’s darkly pre-ordaining +Captain Delano’s fate, and Captain Delano’s lightly arranging Don +Benito’s. Nevertheless, it was not without something of relief that the +good seaman presently perceived his whale-boat in the distance. Its +absence had been prolonged by unexpected detention at the sealer’s +side, as well as its returning trip lengthened by the continual +recession of the goal. + +The advancing speck was observed by the blacks. Their shouts attracted +the attention of Don Benito, who, with a return of courtesy, +approaching Captain Delano, expressed satisfaction at the coming of +some supplies, slight and temporary as they must necessarily prove. + +Captain Delano responded; but while doing so, his attention was drawn +to something passing on the deck below: among the crowd climbing the +landward bulwarks, anxiously watching the coming boat, two blacks, to +all appearances accidentally incommoded by one of the sailors, +violently pushed him aside, which the sailor someway resenting, they +dashed him to the deck, despite the earnest cries of the oakum-pickers. + +“Don Benito,” said Captain Delano quickly, “do you see what is going on +there? Look!” + +But, seized by his cough, the Spaniard staggered, with both hands to +his face, on the point of falling. Captain Delano would have supported +him, but the servant was more alert, who, with one hand sustaining his +master, with the other applied the cordial. Don Benito restored, the +black withdrew his support, slipping aside a little, but dutifully +remaining within call of a whisper. Such discretion was here evinced as +quite wiped away, in the visitor’s eyes, any blemish of impropriety +which might have attached to the attendant, from the indecorous +conferences before mentioned; showing, too, that if the servant were to +blame, it might be more the master’s fault than his own, since, when +left to himself, he could conduct thus well. + +His glance called away from the spectacle of disorder to the more +pleasing one before him, Captain Delano could not avoid again +congratulating his host upon possessing such a servant, who, though +perhaps a little too forward now and then, must upon the whole be +invaluable to one in the invalid’s situation. + +“Tell me, Don Benito,” he added, with a smile—“I should like to have +your man here, myself—what will you take for him? Would fifty doubloons +be any object?” + +“Master wouldn’t part with Babo for a thousand doubloons,” murmured the +black, overhearing the offer, and taking it in earnest, and, with the +strange vanity of a faithful slave, appreciated by his master, scorning +to hear so paltry a valuation put upon him by a stranger. But Don +Benito, apparently hardly yet completely restored, and again +interrupted by his cough, made but some broken reply. + +Soon his physical distress became so great, affecting his mind, too, +apparently, that, as if to screen the sad spectacle, the servant gently +conducted his master below. + +Left to himself, the American, to while away the time till his boat +should arrive, would have pleasantly accosted some one of the few +Spanish seamen he saw; but recalling something that Don Benito had said +touching their ill conduct, he refrained; as a shipmaster indisposed to +countenance cowardice or unfaithfulness in seamen. + +While, with these thoughts, standing with eye directed forward towards +that handful of sailors, suddenly he thought that one or two of them +returned the glance and with a sort of meaning. He rubbed his eyes, and +looked again; but again seemed to see the same thing. Under a new form, +but more obscure than any previous one, the old suspicions recurred, +but, in the absence of Don Benito, with less of panic than before. +Despite the bad account given of the sailors, Captain Delano resolved +forthwith to accost one of them. Descending the poop, he made his way +through the blacks, his movement drawing a queer cry from the +oakum-pickers, prompted by whom, the negroes, twitching each other +aside, divided before him; but, as if curious to see what was the +object of this deliberate visit to their Ghetto, closing in behind, in +tolerable order, followed the white stranger up. His progress thus +proclaimed as by mounted kings-at-arms, and escorted as by a Caffre +guard of honor, Captain Delano, assuming a good-humored, off-handed +air, continued to advance; now and then saying a blithe word to the +negroes, and his eye curiously surveying the white faces, here and +there sparsely mixed in with the blacks, like stray white pawns +venturously involved in the ranks of the chess-men opposed. + +While thinking which of them to select for his purpose, he chanced to +observe a sailor seated on the deck engaged in tarring the strap of a +large block, a circle of blacks squatted round him inquisitively eying +the process. + +The mean employment of the man was in contrast with something superior +in his figure. His hand, black with continually thrusting it into the +tar-pot held for him by a negro, seemed not naturally allied to his +face, a face which would have been a very fine one but for its +haggardness. Whether this haggardness had aught to do with criminality, +could not be determined; since, as intense heat and cold, though +unlike, produce like sensations, so innocence and guilt, when, through +casual association with mental pain, stamping any visible impress, use +one seal—a hacked one. + +Not again that this reflection occurred to Captain Delano at the time, +charitable man as he was. Rather another idea. Because observing so +singular a haggardness combined with a dark eye, averted as in trouble +and shame, and then again recalling Don Benito’s confessed ill opinion +of his crew, insensibly he was operated upon by certain general notions +which, while disconnecting pain and abashment from virtue, invariably +link them with vice. + +If, indeed, there be any wickedness on board this ship, thought Captain +Delano, be sure that man there has fouled his hand in it, even as now +he fouls it in the pitch. I don’t like to accost him. I will speak to +this other, this old Jack here on the windlass. + +He advanced to an old Barcelona tar, in ragged red breeches and dirty +night-cap, cheeks trenched and bronzed, whiskers dense as thorn hedges. +Seated between two sleepy-looking Africans, this mariner, like his +younger shipmate, was employed upon some rigging—splicing a cable—the +sleepy-looking blacks performing the inferior function of holding the +outer parts of the ropes for him. + +Upon Captain Delano’s approach, the man at once hung his head below its +previous level; the one necessary for business. It appeared as if he +desired to be thought absorbed, with more than common fidelity, in his +task. Being addressed, he glanced up, but with what seemed a furtive, +diffident air, which sat strangely enough on his weather-beaten visage, +much as if a grizzly bear, instead of growling and biting, should +simper and cast sheep’s eyes. He was asked several questions concerning +the voyage—questions purposely referring to several particulars in Don +Benito’s narrative, not previously corroborated by those impulsive +cries greeting the visitor on first coming on board. The questions were +briefly answered, confirming all that remained to be confirmed of the +story. The negroes about the windlass joined in with the old sailor; +but, as they became talkative, he by degrees became mute, and at length +quite glum, seemed morosely unwilling to answer more questions, and +yet, all the while, this ursine air was somehow mixed with his sheepish +one. + +Despairing of getting into unembarrassed talk with such a centaur, +Captain Delano, after glancing round for a more promising countenance, +but seeing none, spoke pleasantly to the blacks to make way for him; +and so, amid various grins and grimaces, returned to the poop, feeling +a little strange at first, he could hardly tell why, but upon the whole +with regained confidence in Benito Cereno. + +How plainly, thought he, did that old whiskerando yonder betray a +consciousness of ill desert. No doubt, when he saw me coming, he +dreaded lest I, apprised by his Captain of the crew’s general +misbehavior, came with sharp words for him, and so down with his head. +And yet—and yet, now that I think of it, that very old fellow, if I err +not, was one of those who seemed so earnestly eying me here awhile +since. Ah, these currents spin one’s head round almost as much as they +do the ship. Ha, there now’s a pleasant sort of sunny sight; quite +sociable, too. + +His attention had been drawn to a slumbering negress, partly disclosed +through the lacework of some rigging, lying, with youthful limbs +carelessly disposed, under the lee of the bulwarks, like a doe in the +shade of a woodland rock. Sprawling at her lapped breasts, was her +wide-awake fawn, stark naked, its black little body half lifted from +the deck, crosswise with its dam’s; its hands, like two paws, +clambering upon her; its mouth and nose ineffectually rooting to get at +the mark; and meantime giving a vexatious half-grunt, blending with the +composed snore of the negress. + +The uncommon vigor of the child at length roused the mother. She +started up, at a distance facing Captain Delano. But as if not at all +concerned at the attitude in which she had been caught, delightedly she +caught the child up, with maternal transports, covering it with kisses. + +There’s naked nature, now; pure tenderness and love, thought Captain +Delano, well pleased. + +This incident prompted him to remark the other negresses more +particularly than before. He was gratified with their manners: like +most uncivilized women, they seemed at once tender of heart and tough +of constitution; equally ready to die for their infants or fight for +them. Unsophisticated as leopardesses; loving as doves. Ah! thought +Captain Delano, these, perhaps, are some of the very women whom Ledyard +saw in Africa, and gave such a noble account of. + +These natural sights somehow insensibly deepened his confidence and +ease. At last he looked to see how his boat was getting on; but it was +still pretty remote. He turned to see if Don Benito had returned; but +he had not. + +To change the scene, as well as to please himself with a leisurely +observation of the coming boat, stepping over into the mizzen-chains, +he clambered his way into the starboard quarter-gallery—one of those +abandoned Venetian-looking water-balconies previously +mentioned—retreats cut off from the deck. As his foot pressed the +half-damp, half-dry sea-mosses matting the place, and a chance phantom +cats-paw—an islet of breeze, unheralded, unfollowed—as this ghostly +cats-paw came fanning his cheek; as his glance fell upon the row of +small, round dead-lights—all closed like coppered eyes of the +coffined—and the state-cabin door, once connecting with the gallery, +even as the dead-lights had once looked out upon it, but now calked +fast like a sarcophagus lid; and to a purple-black tarred-over, panel, +threshold, and post; and he bethought him of the time, when that +state-cabin and this state-balcony had heard the voices of the Spanish +king’s officers, and the forms of the Lima viceroy’s daughters had +perhaps leaned where he stood—as these and other images flitted through +his mind, as the cats-paw through the calm, gradually he felt rising a +dreamy inquietude, like that of one who alone on the prairie feels +unrest from the repose of the noon. + +He leaned against the carved balustrade, again looking off toward his +boat; but found his eye falling upon the ribbon grass, trailing along +the ship’s water-line, straight as a border of green box; and parterres +of sea-weed, broad ovals and crescents, floating nigh and far, with +what seemed long formal alleys between, crossing the terraces of +swells, and sweeping round as if leading to the grottoes below. And +overhanging all was the balustrade by his arm, which, partly stained +with pitch and partly embossed with moss, seemed the charred ruin of +some summer-house in a grand garden long running to waste. + +Trying to break one charm, he was but becharmed anew. Though upon the +wide sea, he seemed in some far inland country; prisoner in some +deserted château, left to stare at empty grounds, and peer out at vague +roads, where never wagon or wayfarer passed. + +But these enchantments were a little disenchanted as his eye fell on +the corroded main-chains. Of an ancient style, massy and rusty in link, +shackle and bolt, they seemed even more fit for the ship’s present +business than the one for which she had been built. + +Presently he thought something moved nigh the chains. He rubbed his +eyes, and looked hard. Groves of rigging were about the chains; and +there, peering from behind a great stay, like an Indian from behind a +hemlock, a Spanish sailor, a marlingspike in his hand, was seen, who +made what seemed an imperfect gesture towards the balcony, but +immediately as if alarmed by some advancing step along the deck within, +vanished into the recesses of the hempen forest, like a poacher. + +What meant this? Something the man had sought to communicate, unbeknown +to any one, even to his captain. Did the secret involve aught +unfavorable to his captain? Were those previous misgivings of Captain +Delano’s about to be verified? Or, in his haunted mood at the moment, +had some random, unintentional motion of the man, while busy with the +stay, as if repairing it, been mistaken for a significant beckoning? + +Not unbewildered, again he gazed off for his boat. But it was +temporarily hidden by a rocky spur of the isle. As with some eagerness +he bent forward, watching for the first shooting view of its beak, the +balustrade gave way before him like charcoal. Had he not clutched an +outreaching rope he would have fallen into the sea. The crash, though +feeble, and the fall, though hollow, of the rotten fragments, must have +been overheard. He glanced up. With sober curiosity peering down upon +him was one of the old oakum-pickers, slipped from his perch to an +outside boom; while below the old negro, and, invisible to him, +reconnoitering from a port-hole like a fox from the mouth of its den, +crouched the Spanish sailor again. From something suddenly suggested by +the man’s air, the mad idea now darted into Captain Delano’s mind, that +Don Benito’s plea of indisposition, in withdrawing below, was but a +pretense: that he was engaged there maturing his plot, of which the +sailor, by some means gaining an inkling, had a mind to warn the +stranger against; incited, it may be, by gratitude for a kind word on +first boarding the ship. Was it from foreseeing some possible +interference like this, that Don Benito had, beforehand, given such a +bad character of his sailors, while praising the negroes; though, +indeed, the former seemed as docile as the latter the contrary? The +whites, too, by nature, were the shrewder race. A man with some evil +design, would he not be likely to speak well of that stupidity which +was blind to his depravity, and malign that intelligence from which it +might not be hidden? Not unlikely, perhaps. But if the whites had dark +secrets concerning Don Benito, could then Don Benito be any way in +complicity with the blacks? But they were too stupid. Besides, who ever +heard of a white so far a renegade as to apostatize from his very +species almost, by leaguing in against it with negroes? These +difficulties recalled former ones. Lost in their mazes, Captain Delano, +who had now regained the deck, was uneasily advancing along it, when he +observed a new face; an aged sailor seated cross-legged near the main +hatchway. His skin was shrunk up with wrinkles like a pelican’s empty +pouch; his hair frosted; his countenance grave and composed. His hands +were full of ropes, which he was working into a large knot. Some blacks +were about him obligingly dipping the strands for him, here and there, +as the exigencies of the operation demanded. + +Captain Delano crossed over to him, and stood in silence surveying the +knot; his mind, by a not uncongenial transition, passing from its own +entanglements to those of the hemp. For intricacy, such a knot he had +never seen in an American ship, nor indeed any other. The old man +looked like an Egyptian priest, making Gordian knots for the temple of +Ammon. The knot seemed a combination of double-bowline-knot, +treble-crown-knot, back-handed-well-knot, knot-in-and-out-knot, and +jamming-knot. + +At last, puzzled to comprehend the meaning of such a knot, Captain +Delano addressed the knotter:— + +“What are you knotting there, my man?” + +“The knot,” was the brief reply, without looking up. + +“So it seems; but what is it for?” + +“For some one else to undo,” muttered back the old man, plying his +fingers harder than ever, the knot being now nearly completed. + +While Captain Delano stood watching him, suddenly the old man threw the +knot towards him, saying in broken English—the first heard in the +ship—something to this effect: “Undo it, cut it, quick.” It was said +lowly, but with such condensation of rapidity, that the long, slow +words in Spanish, which had preceded and followed, almost operated as +covers to the brief English between. + +For a moment, knot in hand, and knot in head, Captain Delano stood +mute; while, without further heeding him, the old man was now intent +upon other ropes. Presently there was a slight stir behind Captain +Delano. Turning, he saw the chained negro, Atufal, standing quietly +there. The next moment the old sailor rose, muttering, and, followed by +his subordinate negroes, removed to the forward part of the ship, where +in the crowd he disappeared. + +An elderly negro, in a clout like an infant’s, and with a pepper and +salt head, and a kind of attorney air, now approached Captain Delano. +In tolerable Spanish, and with a good-natured, knowing wink, he +informed him that the old knotter was simple-witted, but harmless; +often playing his odd tricks. The negro concluded by begging the knot, +for of course the stranger would not care to be troubled with it. +Unconsciously, it was handed to him. With a sort of congé, the negro +received it, and, turning his back, ferreted into it like a detective +custom-house officer after smuggled laces. Soon, with some African +word, equivalent to pshaw, he tossed the knot overboard. + +All this is very queer now, thought Captain Delano, with a qualmish +sort of emotion; but, as one feeling incipient sea-sickness, he strove, +by ignoring the symptoms, to get rid of the malady. Once more he looked +off for his boat. To his delight, it was now again in view, leaving the +rocky spur astern. + +The sensation here experienced, after at first relieving his +uneasiness, with unforeseen efficacy soon began to remove it. The less +distant sight of that well-known boat—showing it, not as before, half +blended with the haze, but with outline defined, so that its +individuality, like a man’s, was manifest; that boat, Rover by name, +which, though now in strange seas, had often pressed the beach of +Captain Delano’s home, and, brought to its threshold for repairs, had +familiarly lain there, as a Newfoundland dog; the sight of that +household boat evoked a thousand trustful associations, which, +contrasted with previous suspicions, filled him not only with lightsome +confidence, but somehow with half humorous self-reproaches at his +former lack of it. + +“What, I, Amasa Delano—Jack of the Beach, as they called me when a +lad—I, Amasa; the same that, duck-satchel in hand, used to paddle along +the water-side to the school-house made from the old hulk—I, little +Jack of the Beach, that used to go berrying with cousin Nat and the +rest; I to be murdered here at the ends of the earth, on board a +haunted pirate-ship by a horrible Spaniard? Too nonsensical to think +of! Who would murder Amasa Delano? His conscience is clean. There is +some one above. Fie, fie, Jack of the Beach! you are a child indeed; a +child of the second childhood, old boy; you are beginning to dote and +drule, I’m afraid.” + +Light of heart and foot, he stepped aft, and there was met by Don +Benito’s servant, who, with a pleasing expression, responsive to his +own present feelings, informed him that his master had recovered from +the effects of his coughing fit, and had just ordered him to go present +his compliments to his good guest, Don Amasa, and say that he (Don +Benito) would soon have the happiness to rejoin him. + +There now, do you mark that? again thought Captain Delano, walking the +poop. What a donkey I was. This kind gentleman who here sends me his +kind compliments, he, but ten minutes ago, dark-lantern in had, was +dodging round some old grind-stone in the hold, sharpening a hatchet +for me, I thought. Well, well; these long calms have a morbid effect on +the mind, I’ve often heard, though I never believed it before. Ha! +glancing towards the boat; there’s Rover; good dog; a white bone in her +mouth. A pretty big bone though, seems to me.—What? Yes, she has fallen +afoul of the bubbling tide-rip there. It sets her the other way, too, +for the time. Patience. + +It was now about noon, though, from the grayness of everything, it +seemed to be getting towards dusk. + +The calm was confirmed. In the far distance, away from the influence of +land, the leaden ocean seemed laid out and leaded up, its course +finished, soul gone, defunct. But the current from landward, where the +ship was, increased; silently sweeping her further and further towards +the tranced waters beyond. + +Still, from his knowledge of those latitudes, cherishing hopes of a +breeze, and a fair and fresh one, at any moment, Captain Delano, +despite present prospects, buoyantly counted upon bringing the San +Dominick safely to anchor ere night. The distance swept over was +nothing; since, with a good wind, ten minutes’ sailing would retrace +more than sixty minutes, drifting. Meantime, one moment turning to mark +“Rover” fighting the tide-rip, and the next to see Don Benito +approaching, he continued walking the poop. + +Gradually he felt a vexation arising from the delay of his boat; this +soon merged into uneasiness; and at last—his eye falling continually, +as from a stage-box into the pit, upon the strange crowd before and +below him, and, by-and-by, recognizing there the face—now composed to +indifference—of the Spanish sailor who had seemed to beckon from the +main-chains—something of his old trepidations returned. + +Ah, thought he—gravely enough—this is like the ague: because it went +off, it follows not that it won’t come back. + +Though ashamed of the relapse, he could not altogether subdue it; and +so, exerting his good-nature to the utmost, insensibly he came to a +compromise. + +Yes, this is a strange craft; a strange history, too, and strange folks +on board. But—nothing more. + +By way of keeping his mind out of mischief till the boat should arrive, +he tried to occupy it with turning over and over, in a purely +speculative sort of way, some lesser peculiarities of the captain and +crew. Among others, four curious points recurred: + +First, the affair of the Spanish lad assailed with a knife by the slave +boy; an act winked at by Don Benito. Second, the tyranny in Don +Benito’s treatment of Atufal, the black; as if a child should lead a +bull of the Nile by the ring in his nose. Third, the trampling of the +sailor by the two negroes; a piece of insolence passed over without so +much as a reprimand. Fourth, the cringing submission to their master, +of all the ship’s underlings, mostly blacks; as if by the least +inadvertence they feared to draw down his despotic displeasure. + +Coupling these points, they seemed somewhat contradictory. But what +then, thought Captain Delano, glancing towards his now nearing +boat—what then? Why, Don Benito is a very capricious commander. But he +is not the first of the sort I have seen; though it’s true he rather +exceeds any other. But as a nation—continued he in his reveries—these +Spaniards are all an odd set; the very word Spaniard has a curious, +conspirator, Guy-Fawkish twang to it. And yet, I dare say, Spaniards in +the main are as good folks as any in Duxbury, Massachusetts. Ah good! +At last “Rover” has come. + +As, with its welcome freight, the boat touched the side, the +oakum-pickers, with venerable gestures, sought to restrain the blacks, +who, at the sight of three gurried water-casks in its bottom, and a +pile of wilted pumpkins in its bow, hung over the bulwarks in +disorderly raptures. + +Don Benito, with his servant, now appeared; his coming, perhaps, +hastened by hearing the noise. Of him Captain Delano sought permission +to serve out the water, so that all might share alike, and none injure +themselves by unfair excess. But sensible, and, on Don Benito’s +account, kind as this offer was, it was received with what seemed +impatience; as if aware that he lacked energy as a commander, Don +Benito, with the true jealousy of weakness, resented as an affront any +interference. So, at least, Captain Delano inferred. + +In another moment the casks were being hoisted in, when some of the +eager negroes accidentally jostled Captain Delano, where he stood by +the gangway; so, that, unmindful of Don Benito, yielding to the impulse +of the moment, with good-natured authority he bade the blacks stand +back; to enforce his words making use of a half-mirthful, half-menacing +gesture. Instantly the blacks paused, just where they were, each negro +and negress suspended in his or her posture, exactly as the word had +found them—for a few seconds continuing so—while, as between the +responsive posts of a telegraph, an unknown syllable ran from man to +man among the perched oakum-pickers. While the visitor’s attention was +fixed by this scene, suddenly the hatchet-polishers half rose, and a +rapid cry came from Don Benito. + +Thinking that at the signal of the Spaniard he was about to be +massacred, Captain Delano would have sprung for his boat, but paused, +as the oakum-pickers, dropping down into the crowd with earnest +exclamations, forced every white and every negro back, at the same +moment, with gestures friendly and familiar, almost jocose, bidding +him, in substance, not be a fool. Simultaneously the hatchet-polishers +resumed their seats, quietly as so many tailors, and at once, as if +nothing had happened, the work of hoisting in the casks was resumed, +whites and blacks singing at the tackle. + +Captain Delano glanced towards Don Benito. As he saw his meagre form in +the act of recovering itself from reclining in the servant’s arms, into +which the agitated invalid had fallen, he could not but marvel at the +panic by which himself had been surprised, on the darting supposition +that such a commander, who, upon a legitimate occasion, so trivial, +too, as it now appeared, could lose all self-command, was, with +energetic iniquity, going to bring about his murder. + +The casks being on deck, Captain Delano was handed a number of jars and +cups by one of the steward’s aids, who, in the name of his captain, +entreated him to do as he had proposed—dole out the water. He complied, +with republican impartiality as to this republican element, which +always seeks one level, serving the oldest white no better than the +youngest black; excepting, indeed, poor Don Benito, whose condition, if +not rank, demanded an extra allowance. To him, in the first place, +Captain Delano presented a fair pitcher of the fluid; but, thirsting as +he was for it, the Spaniard quaffed not a drop until after several +grave bows and salutes. A reciprocation of courtesies which the +sight-loving Africans hailed with clapping of hands. + +Two of the less wilted pumpkins being reserved for the cabin table, the +residue were minced up on the spot for the general regalement. But the +soft bread, sugar, and bottled cider, Captain Delano would have given +the whites alone, and in chief Don Benito; but the latter objected; +which disinterestedness not a little pleased the American; and so +mouthfuls all around were given alike to whites and blacks; excepting +one bottle of cider, which Babo insisted upon setting aside for his +master. + +Here it may be observed that as, on the first visit of the boat, the +American had not permitted his men to board the ship, neither did he +now; being unwilling to add to the confusion of the decks. + +Not uninfluenced by the peculiar good-humor at present prevailing, and +for the time oblivious of any but benevolent thoughts, Captain Delano, +who, from recent indications, counted upon a breeze within an hour or +two at furthest, dispatched the boat back to the sealer, with orders +for all the hands that could be spared immediately to set about rafting +casks to the watering-place and filling them. Likewise he bade word be +carried to his chief officer, that if, against present expectation, the +ship was not brought to anchor by sunset, he need be under no concern; +for as there was to be a full moon that night, he (Captain Delano) +would remain on board ready to play the pilot, come the wind soon or +late. + +As the two Captains stood together, observing the departing boat—the +servant, as it happened, having just spied a spot on his master’s +velvet sleeve, and silently engaged rubbing it out—the American +expressed his regrets that the San Dominick had no boats; none, at +least, but the unseaworthy old hulk of the long-boat, which, warped as +a camel’s skeleton in the desert, and almost as bleached, lay pot-wise +inverted amidships, one side a little tipped, furnishing a +subterraneous sort of den for family groups of the blacks, mostly women +and small children; who, squatting on old mats below, or perched above +in the dark dome, on the elevated seats, were descried, some distance +within, like a social circle of bats, sheltering in some friendly cave; +at intervals, ebon flights of naked boys and girls, three or four years +old, darting in and out of the den’s mouth. + +“Had you three or four boats now, Don Benito,” said Captain Delano, “I +think that, by tugging at the oars, your negroes here might help along +matters some. Did you sail from port without boats, Don Benito?” + +“They were stove in the gales, Señor.” + +“That was bad. Many men, too, you lost then. Boats and men. Those must +have been hard gales, Don Benito.” + +“Past all speech,” cringed the Spaniard. + +“Tell me, Don Benito,” continued his companion with increased interest, +“tell me, were these gales immediately off the pitch of Cape Horn?” + +“Cape Horn?—who spoke of Cape Horn?” + +“Yourself did, when giving me an account of your voyage,” answered +Captain Delano, with almost equal astonishment at this eating of his +own words, even as he ever seemed eating his own heart, on the part of +the Spaniard. “You yourself, Don Benito, spoke of Cape Horn,” he +emphatically repeated. + +The Spaniard turned, in a sort of stooping posture, pausing an instant, +as one about to make a plunging exchange of elements, as from air to +water. + +At this moment a messenger-boy, a white, hurried by, in the regular +performance of his function carrying the last expired half hour forward +to the forecastle, from the cabin time-piece, to have it struck at the +ship’s large bell. + +“Master,” said the servant, discontinuing his work on the coat sleeve, +and addressing the rapt Spaniard with a sort of timid apprehensiveness, +as one charged with a duty, the discharge of which, it was foreseen, +would prove irksome to the very person who had imposed it, and for +whose benefit it was intended, “master told me never mind where he was, +or how engaged, always to remind him to a minute, when shaving-time +comes. Miguel has gone to strike the half-hour afternoon. It is _now_, +master. Will master go into the cuddy?” + +“Ah—yes,” answered the Spaniard, starting, as from dreams into +realities; then turning upon Captain Delano, he said that ere long he +would resume the conversation. + +“Then if master means to talk more to Don Amasa,” said the servant, +“why not let Don Amasa sit by master in the cuddy, and master can talk, +and Don Amasa can listen, while Babo here lathers and strops.” + +“Yes,” said Captain Delano, not unpleased with this sociable plan, +“yes, Don Benito, unless you had rather not, I will go with you.” + +“Be it so, Señor.” + +As the three passed aft, the American could not but think it another +strange instance of his host’s capriciousness, this being shaved with +such uncommon punctuality in the middle of the day. But he deemed it +more than likely that the servant’s anxious fidelity had something to +do with the matter; inasmuch as the timely interruption served to rally +his master from the mood which had evidently been coming upon him. + +The place called the cuddy was a light deck-cabin formed by the poop, a +sort of attic to the large cabin below. Part of it had formerly been +the quarters of the officers; but since their death all the +partitioning had been thrown down, and the whole interior converted +into one spacious and airy marine hall; for absence of fine furniture +and picturesque disarray of odd appurtenances, somewhat answering to +the wide, cluttered hall of some eccentric bachelor-squire in the +country, who hangs his shooting-jacket and tobacco-pouch on deer +antlers, and keeps his fishing-rod, tongs, and walking-stick in the +same corner. + +The similitude was heightened, if not originally suggested, by glimpses +of the surrounding sea; since, in one aspect, the country and the ocean +seem cousins-german. + +The floor of the cuddy was matted. Overhead, four or five old muskets +were stuck into horizontal holes along the beams. On one side was a +claw-footed old table lashed to the deck; a thumbed missal on it, and +over it a small, meagre crucifix attached to the bulk-head. Under the +table lay a dented cutlass or two, with a hacked harpoon, among some +melancholy old rigging, like a heap of poor friars’ girdles. There were +also two long, sharp-ribbed settees of Malacca cane, black with age, +and uncomfortable to look at as inquisitors’ racks, with a large, +misshapen arm-chair, which, furnished with a rude barber’s crotch at +the back, working with a screw, seemed some grotesque engine of +torment. A flag locker was in one corner, open, exposing various +colored bunting, some rolled up, others half unrolled, still others +tumbled. Opposite was a cumbrous washstand, of black mahogany, all of +one block, with a pedestal, like a font, and over it a railed shelf, +containing combs, brushes, and other implements of the toilet. A torn +hammock of stained grass swung near; the sheets tossed, and the pillow +wrinkled up like a brow, as if who ever slept here slept but illy, with +alternate visitations of sad thoughts and bad dreams. + +The further extremity of the cuddy, overhanging the ship’s stern, was +pierced with three openings, windows or port-holes, according as men or +cannon might peer, socially or unsocially, out of them. At present +neither men nor cannon were seen, though huge ring-bolts and other +rusty iron fixtures of the wood-work hinted of twenty-four-pounders. + +Glancing towards the hammock as he entered, Captain Delano said, “You +sleep here, Don Benito?” + +“Yes, Señor, since we got into mild weather.” + +“This seems a sort of dormitory, sitting-room, sail-loft, chapel, +armory, and private closet all together, Don Benito,” added Captain +Delano, looking round. + +“Yes, Señor; events have not been favorable to much order in my +arrangements.” + +Here the servant, napkin on arm, made a motion as if waiting his +master’s good pleasure. Don Benito signified his readiness, when, +seating him in the Malacca arm-chair, and for the guest’s convenience +drawing opposite one of the settees, the servant commenced operations +by throwing back his master’s collar and loosening his cravat. + +There is something in the negro which, in a peculiar way, fits him for +avocations about one’s person. Most negroes are natural valets and +hair-dressers; taking to the comb and brush congenially as to the +castinets, and flourishing them apparently with almost equal +satisfaction. There is, too, a smooth tact about them in this +employment, with a marvelous, noiseless, gliding briskness, not +ungraceful in its way, singularly pleasing to behold, and still more so +to be the manipulated subject of. And above all is the great gift of +good-humor. Not the mere grin or laugh is here meant. Those were +unsuitable. But a certain easy cheerfulness, harmonious in every glance +and gesture; as though God had set the whole negro to some pleasant +tune. + +When to this is added the docility arising from the unaspiring +contentment of a limited mind and that susceptibility of blind +attachment sometimes inhering in indisputable inferiors, one readily +perceives why those hypochondriacs, Johnson and Byron—it may be, +something like the hypochondriac Benito Cereno—took to their hearts, +almost to the exclusion of the entire white race, their serving men, +the negroes, Barber and Fletcher. But if there be that in the negro +which exempts him from the inflicted sourness of the morbid or cynical +mind, how, in his most prepossessing aspects, must he appear to a +benevolent one? When at ease with respect to exterior things, Captain +Delano’s nature was not only benign, but familiarly and humorously so. +At home, he had often taken rare satisfaction in sitting in his door, +watching some free man of color at his work or play. If on a voyage he +chanced to have a black sailor, invariably he was on chatty and +half-gamesome terms with him. In fact, like most men of a good, blithe +heart, Captain Delano took to negroes, not philanthropically, but +genially, just as other men to Newfoundland dogs. + +Hitherto, the circumstances in which he found the San Dominick had +repressed the tendency. But in the cuddy, relieved from his former +uneasiness, and, for various reasons, more sociably inclined than at +any previous period of the day, and seeing the colored servant, napkin +on arm, so debonair about his master, in a business so familiar as that +of shaving, too, all his old weakness for negroes returned. + +Among other things, he was amused with an odd instance of the African +love of bright colors and fine shows, in the black’s informally taking +from the flag-locker a great piece of bunting of all hues, and lavishly +tucking it under his master’s chin for an apron. + +The mode of shaving among the Spaniards is a little different from what +it is with other nations. They have a basin, specifically called a +barber’s basin, which on one side is scooped out, so as accurately to +receive the chin, against which it is closely held in lathering; which +is done, not with a brush, but with soap dipped in the water of the +basin and rubbed on the face. + +In the present instance salt-water was used for lack of better; and the +parts lathered were only the upper lip, and low down under the throat, +all the rest being cultivated beard. + +The preliminaries being somewhat novel to Captain Delano, he sat +curiously eying them, so that no conversation took place, nor, for the +present, did Don Benito appear disposed to renew any. + +Setting down his basin, the negro searched among the razors, as for the +sharpest, and having found it, gave it an additional edge by expertly +strapping it on the firm, smooth, oily skin of his open palm; he then +made a gesture as if to begin, but midway stood suspended for an +instant, one hand elevating the razor, the other professionally +dabbling among the bubbling suds on the Spaniard’s lank neck. Not +unaffected by the close sight of the gleaming steel, Don Benito +nervously shuddered; his usual ghastliness was heightened by the +lather, which lather, again, was intensified in its hue by the +contrasting sootiness of the negro’s body. Altogether the scene was +somewhat peculiar, at least to Captain Delano, nor, as he saw the two +thus postured, could he resist the vagary, that in the black he saw a +headsman, and in the white a man at the block. But this was one of +those antic conceits, appearing and vanishing in a breath, from which, +perhaps, the best regulated mind is not always free. + +Meantime the agitation of the Spaniard had a little loosened the +bunting from around him, so that one broad fold swept curtain-like over +the chair-arm to the floor, revealing, amid a profusion of armorial +bars and ground-colors—black, blue, and yellow—a closed castle in a +blood red field diagonal with a lion rampant in a white. + +“The castle and the lion,” exclaimed Captain Delano—“why, Don Benito, +this is the flag of Spain you use here. It’s well it’s only I, and not +the King, that sees this,” he added, with a smile, “but”—turning +towards the black—“it’s all one, I suppose, so the colors be gay;” +which playful remark did not fail somewhat to tickle the negro. + +“Now, master,” he said, readjusting the flag, and pressing the head +gently further back into the crotch of the chair; “now, master,” and +the steel glanced nigh the throat. + +Again Don Benito faintly shuddered. + +“You must not shake so, master. See, Don Amasa, master always shakes +when I shave him. And yet master knows I never yet have drawn blood, +though it’s true, if master will shake so, I may some of these times. +Now master,” he continued. “And now, Don Amasa, please go on with your +talk about the gale, and all that; master can hear, and, between times, +master can answer.” + +“Ah yes, these gales,” said Captain Delano; “but the more I think of +your voyage, Don Benito, the more I wonder, not at the gales, terrible +as they must have been, but at the disastrous interval following them. +For here, by your account, have you been these two months and more +getting from Cape Horn to St. Maria, a distance which I myself, with a +good wind, have sailed in a few days. True, you had calms, and long +ones, but to be becalmed for two months, that is, at least, unusual. +Why, Don Benito, had almost any other gentleman told me such a story, I +should have been half disposed to a little incredulity.” + +Here an involuntary expression came over the Spaniard, similar to that +just before on the deck, and whether it was the start he gave, or a +sudden gawky roll of the hull in the calm, or a momentary unsteadiness +of the servant’s hand, however it was, just then the razor drew blood, +spots of which stained the creamy lather under the throat: immediately +the black barber drew back his steel, and, remaining in his +professional attitude, back to Captain Delano, and face to Don Benito, +held up the trickling razor, saying, with a sort of half humorous +sorrow, “See, master—you shook so—here’s Babo’s first blood.” + +No sword drawn before James the First of England, no assassination in +that timid King’s presence, could have produced a more terrified aspect +than was now presented by Don Benito. + +Poor fellow, thought Captain Delano, so nervous he can’t even bear the +sight of barber’s blood; and this unstrung, sick man, is it credible +that I should have imagined he meant to spill all my blood, who can’t +endure the sight of one little drop of his own? Surely, Amasa Delano, +you have been beside yourself this day. Tell it not when you get home, +sappy Amasa. Well, well, he looks like a murderer, doesn’t he? More +like as if himself were to be done for. Well, well, this day’s +experience shall be a good lesson. + +Meantime, while these things were running through the honest seaman’s +mind, the servant had taken the napkin from his arm, and to Don Benito +had said—“But answer Don Amasa, please, master, while I wipe this ugly +stuff off the razor, and strop it again.” + +As he said the words, his face was turned half round, so as to be alike +visible to the Spaniard and the American, and seemed, by its +expression, to hint, that he was desirous, by getting his master to go +on with the conversation, considerately to withdraw his attention from +the recent annoying accident. As if glad to snatch the offered relief, +Don Benito resumed, rehearsing to Captain Delano, that not only were +the calms of unusual duration, but the ship had fallen in with +obstinate currents; and other things he added, some of which were but +repetitions of former statements, to explain how it came to pass that +the passage from Cape Horn to St. Maria had been so exceedingly long; +now and then, mingling with his words, incidental praises, less +qualified than before, to the blacks, for their general good conduct. +These particulars were not given consecutively, the servant, at +convenient times, using his razor, and so, between the intervals of +shaving, the story and panegyric went on with more than usual +huskiness. + +To Captain Delano’s imagination, now again not wholly at rest, there +was something so hollow in the Spaniard’s manner, with apparently some +reciprocal hollowness in the servant’s dusky comment of silence, that +the idea flashed across him, that possibly master and man, for some +unknown purpose, were acting out, both in word and deed, nay, to the +very tremor of Don Benito’s limbs, some juggling play before him. +Neither did the suspicion of collusion lack apparent support, from the +fact of those whispered conferences before mentioned. But then, what +could be the object of enacting this play of the barber before him? At +last, regarding the notion as a whimsy, insensibly suggested, perhaps, +by the theatrical aspect of Don Benito in his harlequin ensign, Captain +Delano speedily banished it. + +The shaving over, the servant bestirred himself with a small bottle of +scented waters, pouring a few drops on the head, and then diligently +rubbing; the vehemence of the exercise causing the muscles of his face +to twitch rather strangely. + +His next operation was with comb, scissors, and brush; going round and +round, smoothing a curl here, clipping an unruly whisker-hair there, +giving a graceful sweep to the temple-lock, with other impromptu +touches evincing the hand of a master; while, like any resigned +gentleman in barber’s hands, Don Benito bore all, much less uneasily, +at least than he had done the razoring; indeed, he sat so pale and +rigid now, that the negro seemed a Nubian sculptor finishing off a +white statue-head. + +All being over at last, the standard of Spain removed, tumbled up, and +tossed back into the flag-locker, the negro’s warm breath blowing away +any stray hair, which might have lodged down his master’s neck; collar +and cravat readjusted; a speck of lint whisked off the velvet lapel; +all this being done; backing off a little space, and pausing with an +expression of subdued self-complacency, the servant for a moment +surveyed his master, as, in toilet at least, the creature of his own +tasteful hands. + +Captain Delano playfully complimented him upon his achievement; at the +same time congratulating Don Benito. + +But neither sweet waters, nor shampooing, nor fidelity, nor sociality, +delighted the Spaniard. Seeing him relapsing into forbidding gloom, and +still remaining seated, Captain Delano, thinking that his presence was +undesired just then, withdrew, on pretense of seeing whether, as he had +prophesied, any signs of a breeze were visible. + +Walking forward to the main-mast, he stood awhile thinking over the +scene, and not without some undefined misgivings, when he heard a noise +near the cuddy, and turning, saw the negro, his hand to his cheek. +Advancing, Captain Delano perceived that the cheek was bleeding. He was +about to ask the cause, when the negro’s wailing soliloquy enlightened +him. + +“Ah, when will master get better from his sickness; only the sour heart +that sour sickness breeds made him serve Babo so; cutting Babo with the +razor, because, only by accident, Babo had given master one little +scratch; and for the first time in so many a day, too. Ah, ah, ah,” +holding his hand to his face. + +Is it possible, thought Captain Delano; was it to wreak in private his +Spanish spite against this poor friend of his, that Don Benito, by his +sullen manner, impelled me to withdraw? Ah this slavery breeds ugly +passions in man.—Poor fellow! + +He was about to speak in sympathy to the negro, but with a timid +reluctance he now re-entered the cuddy. + +Presently master and man came forth; Don Benito leaning on his servant +as if nothing had happened. + +But a sort of love-quarrel, after all, thought Captain Delano. + +He accosted Don Benito, and they slowly walked together. They had gone +but a few paces, when the steward—a tall, rajah-looking mulatto, +orientally set off with a pagoda turban formed by three or four Madras +handkerchiefs wound about his head, tier on tier—approaching with a +saalam, announced lunch in the cabin. + +On their way thither, the two captains were preceded by the mulatto, +who, turning round as he advanced, with continual smiles and bows, +ushered them on, a display of elegance which quite completed the +insignificance of the small bare-headed Babo, who, as if not +unconscious of inferiority, eyed askance the graceful steward. But in +part, Captain Delano imputed his jealous watchfulness to that peculiar +feeling which the full-blooded African entertains for the adulterated +one. As for the steward, his manner, if not bespeaking much dignity of +self-respect, yet evidenced his extreme desire to please; which is +doubly meritorious, as at once Christian and Chesterfieldian. + +Captain Delano observed with interest that while the complexion of the +mulatto was hybrid, his physiognomy was European—classically so. + +“Don Benito,” whispered he, “I am glad to see this +usher-of-the-golden-rod of yours; the sight refutes an ugly remark once +made to me by a Barbadoes planter; that when a mulatto has a regular +European face, look out for him; he is a devil. But see, your steward +here has features more regular than King George’s of England; and yet +there he nods, and bows, and smiles; a king, indeed—the king of kind +hearts and polite fellows. What a pleasant voice he has, too?” + +“He has, Señor.” + +“But tell me, has he not, so far as you have known him, always proved a +good, worthy fellow?” said Captain Delano, pausing, while with a final +genuflexion the steward disappeared into the cabin; “come, for the +reason just mentioned, I am curious to know.” + +“Francesco is a good man,” a sort of sluggishly responded Don Benito, +like a phlegmatic appreciator, who would neither find fault nor +flatter. + +“Ah, I thought so. For it were strange, indeed, and not very creditable +to us white-skins, if a little of our blood mixed with the African’s, +should, far from improving the latter’s quality, have the sad effect of +pouring vitriolic acid into black broth; improving the hue, perhaps, +but not the wholesomeness.” + +“Doubtless, doubtless, Señor, but”—glancing at Babo—“not to speak of +negroes, your planter’s remark I have heard applied to the Spanish and +Indian intermixtures in our provinces. But I know nothing about the +matter,” he listlessly added. + +And here they entered the cabin. + +The lunch was a frugal one. Some of Captain Delano’s fresh fish and +pumpkins, biscuit and salt beef, the reserved bottle of cider, and the +San Dominick’s last bottle of Canary. + +As they entered, Francesco, with two or three colored aids, was +hovering over the table giving the last adjustments. Upon perceiving +their master they withdrew, Francesco making a smiling congé, and the +Spaniard, without condescending to notice it, fastidiously remarking to +his companion that he relished not superfluous attendance. + +Without companions, host and guest sat down, like a childless married +couple, at opposite ends of the table, Don Benito waving Captain Delano +to his place, and, weak as he was, insisting upon that gentleman being +seated before himself. + +The negro placed a rug under Don Benito’s feet, and a cushion behind +his back, and then stood behind, not his master’s chair, but Captain +Delano’s. At first, this a little surprised the latter. But it was soon +evident that, in taking his position, the black was still true to his +master; since by facing him he could the more readily anticipate his +slightest want. + +“This is an uncommonly intelligent fellow of yours, Don Benito,” +whispered Captain Delano across the table. + +“You say true, Señor.” + +During the repast, the guest again reverted to parts of Don Benito’s +story, begging further particulars here and there. He inquired how it +was that the scurvy and fever should have committed such wholesale +havoc upon the whites, while destroying less than half of the blacks. +As if this question reproduced the whole scene of plague before the +Spaniard’s eyes, miserably reminding him of his solitude in a cabin +where before he had had so many friends and officers round him, his +hand shook, his face became hueless, broken words escaped; but directly +the sane memory of the past seemed replaced by insane terrors of the +present. With starting eyes he stared before him at vacancy. For +nothing was to be seen but the hand of his servant pushing the Canary +over towards him. At length a few sips served partially to restore him. +He made random reference to the different constitution of races, +enabling one to offer more resistance to certain maladies than another. +The thought was new to his companion. + +Presently Captain Delano, intending to say something to his host +concerning the pecuniary part of the business he had undertaken for +him, especially—since he was strictly accountable to his owners—with +reference to the new suit of sails, and other things of that sort; and +naturally preferring to conduct such affairs in private, was desirous +that the servant should withdraw; imagining that Don Benito for a few +minutes could dispense with his attendance. He, however, waited awhile; +thinking that, as the conversation proceeded, Don Benito, without being +prompted, would perceive the propriety of the step. + +But it was otherwise. At last catching his host’s eye, Captain Delano, +with a slight backward gesture of his thumb, whispered, “Don Benito, +pardon me, but there is an interference with the full expression of +what I have to say to you.” + +Upon this the Spaniard changed countenance; which was imputed to his +resenting the hint, as in some way a reflection upon his servant. After +a moment’s pause, he assured his guest that the black’s remaining with +them could be of no disservice; because since losing his officers he +had made Babo (whose original office, it now appeared, had been captain +of the slaves) not only his constant attendant and companion, but in +all things his confidant. + +After this, nothing more could be said; though, indeed, Captain Delano +could hardly avoid some little tinge of irritation upon being left +ungratified in so inconsiderable a wish, by one, too, for whom he +intended such solid services. But it is only his querulousness, thought +he; and so filling his glass he proceeded to business. + +The price of the sails and other matters was fixed upon. But while this +was being done, the American observed that, though his original offer +of assistance had been hailed with hectic animation, yet now when it +was reduced to a business transaction, indifference and apathy were +betrayed. Don Benito, in fact, appeared to submit to hearing the +details more out of regard to common propriety, than from any +impression that weighty benefit to himself and his voyage was involved. + +Soon, his manner became still more reserved. The effort was vain to +seek to draw him into social talk. Gnawed by his splenetic mood, he sat +twitching his beard, while to little purpose the hand of his servant, +mute as that on the wall, slowly pushed over the Canary. + +Lunch being over, they sat down on the cushioned transom; the servant +placing a pillow behind his master. The long continuance of the calm +had now affected the atmosphere. Don Benito sighed heavily, as if for +breath. + +“Why not adjourn to the cuddy,” said Captain Delano; “there is more air +there.” But the host sat silent and motionless. + +Meantime his servant knelt before him, with a large fan of feathers. +And Francesco coming in on tiptoes, handed the negro a little cup of +aromatic waters, with which at intervals he chafed his master’s brow; +smoothing the hair along the temples as a nurse does a child’s. He +spoke no word. He only rested his eye on his master’s, as if, amid all +Don Benito’s distress, a little to refresh his spirit by the silent +sight of fidelity. + +Presently the ship’s bell sounded two o’clock; and through the cabin +windows a slight rippling of the sea was discerned; and from the +desired direction. + +“There,” exclaimed Captain Delano, “I told you so, Don Benito, look!” + +He had risen to his feet, speaking in a very animated tone, with a view +the more to rouse his companion. But though the crimson curtain of the +stern-window near him that moment fluttered against his pale cheek, Don +Benito seemed to have even less welcome for the breeze than the calm. + +Poor fellow, thought Captain Delano, bitter experience has taught him +that one ripple does not make a wind, any more than one swallow a +summer. But he is mistaken for once. I will get his ship in for him, +and prove it. + +Briefly alluding to his weak condition, he urged his host to remain +quietly where he was, since he (Captain Delano) would with pleasure +take upon himself the responsibility of making the best use of the +wind. + +Upon gaining the deck, Captain Delano started at the unexpected figure +of Atufal, monumentally fixed at the threshold, like one of those +sculptured porters of black marble guarding the porches of Egyptian +tombs. + +But this time the start was, perhaps, purely physical. Atufal’s +presence, singularly attesting docility even in sullenness, was +contrasted with that of the hatchet-polishers, who in patience evinced +their industry; while both spectacles showed, that lax as Don Benito’s +general authority might be, still, whenever he chose to exert it, no +man so savage or colossal but must, more or less, bow. + +Snatching a trumpet which hung from the bulwarks, with a free step +Captain Delano advanced to the forward edge of the poop, issuing his +orders in his best Spanish. The few sailors and many negroes, all +equally pleased, obediently set about heading the ship towards the +harbor. + +While giving some directions about setting a lower stu’n’-sail, +suddenly Captain Delano heard a voice faithfully repeating his orders. +Turning, he saw Babo, now for the time acting, under the pilot, his +original part of captain of the slaves. This assistance proved +valuable. Tattered sails and warped yards were soon brought into some +trim. And no brace or halyard was pulled but to the blithe songs of the +inspirited negroes. + +Good fellows, thought Captain Delano, a little training would make fine +sailors of them. Why see, the very women pull and sing too. These must +be some of those Ashantee negresses that make such capital soldiers, +I’ve heard. But who’s at the helm. I must have a good hand there. + +He went to see. + +The San Dominick steered with a cumbrous tiller, with large horizontal +pullies attached. At each pully-end stood a subordinate black, and +between them, at the tiller-head, the responsible post, a Spanish +seaman, whose countenance evinced his due share in the general +hopefulness and confidence at the coming of the breeze. + +He proved the same man who had behaved with so shame-faced an air on +the windlass. + +“Ah,—it is you, my man,” exclaimed Captain Delano—“well, no more +sheep’s-eyes now;—look straight forward and keep the ship so. Good +hand, I trust? And want to get into the harbor, don’t you?” + +The man assented with an inward chuckle, grasping the tiller-head +firmly. Upon this, unperceived by the American, the two blacks eyed the +sailor intently. + +Finding all right at the helm, the pilot went forward to the +forecastle, to see how matters stood there. + +The ship now had way enough to breast the current. With the approach of +evening, the breeze would be sure to freshen. + +Having done all that was needed for the present, Captain Delano, giving +his last orders to the sailors, turned aft to report affairs to Don +Benito in the cabin; perhaps additionally incited to rejoin him by the +hope of snatching a moment’s private chat while the servant was engaged +upon deck. + +From opposite sides, there were, beneath the poop, two approaches to +the cabin; one further forward than the other, and consequently +communicating with a longer passage. Marking the servant still above, +Captain Delano, taking the nighest entrance—the one last named, and at +whose porch Atufal still stood—hurried on his way, till, arrived at the +cabin threshold, he paused an instant, a little to recover from his +eagerness. Then, with the words of his intended business upon his lips, +he entered. As he advanced toward the seated Spaniard, he heard another +footstep, keeping time with his. From the opposite door, a salver in +hand, the servant was likewise advancing. + +“Confound the faithful fellow,” thought Captain Delano; “what a +vexatious coincidence.” + +Possibly, the vexation might have been something different, were it not +for the brisk confidence inspired by the breeze. But even as it was, he +felt a slight twinge, from a sudden indefinite association in his mind +of Babo with Atufal. + +“Don Benito,” said he, “I give you joy; the breeze will hold, and will +increase. By the way, your tall man and time-piece, Atufal, stands +without. By your order, of course?” + +Don Benito recoiled, as if at some bland satirical touch, delivered +with such adroit garnish of apparent good breeding as to present no +handle for retort. + +He is like one flayed alive, thought Captain Delano; where may one +touch him without causing a shrink? + +The servant moved before his master, adjusting a cushion; recalled to +civility, the Spaniard stiffly replied: “you are right. The slave +appears where you saw him, according to my command; which is, that if +at the given hour I am below, he must take his stand and abide my +coming.” + +“Ah now, pardon me, but that is treating the poor fellow like an +ex-king indeed. Ah, Don Benito,” smiling, “for all the license you +permit in some things, I fear lest, at bottom, you are a bitter hard +master.” + +Again Don Benito shrank; and this time, as the good sailor thought, +from a genuine twinge of his conscience. + +Again conversation became constrained. In vain Captain Delano called +attention to the now perceptible motion of the keel gently cleaving the +sea; with lack-lustre eye, Don Benito returned words few and reserved. + +By-and-by, the wind having steadily risen, and still blowing right into +the harbor bore the San Dominick swiftly on. Sounding a point of land, +the sealer at distance came into open view. + +Meantime Captain Delano had again repaired to the deck, remaining there +some time. Having at last altered the ship’s course, so as to give the +reef a wide berth, he returned for a few moments below. + +I will cheer up my poor friend, this time, thought he. + +“Better and better,” Don Benito, he cried as he blithely re-entered: +“there will soon be an end to your cares, at least for awhile. For +when, after a long, sad voyage, you know, the anchor drops into the +haven, all its vast weight seems lifted from the captain’s heart. We +are getting on famously, Don Benito. My ship is in sight. Look through +this side-light here; there she is; all a-taunt-o! The Bachelor’s +Delight, my good friend. Ah, how this wind braces one up. Come, you +must take a cup of coffee with me this evening. My old steward will +give you as fine a cup as ever any sultan tasted. What say you, Don +Benito, will you?” + +At first, the Spaniard glanced feverishly up, casting a longing look +towards the sealer, while with mute concern his servant gazed into his +face. Suddenly the old ague of coldness returned, and dropping back to +his cushions he was silent. + +“You do not answer. Come, all day you have been my host; would you have +hospitality all on one side?” + +“I cannot go,” was the response. + +“What? it will not fatigue you. The ships will lie together as near as +they can, without swinging foul. It will be little more than stepping +from deck to deck; which is but as from room to room. Come, come, you +must not refuse me.” + +“I cannot go,” decisively and repulsively repeated Don Benito. + +Renouncing all but the last appearance of courtesy, with a sort of +cadaverous sullenness, and biting his thin nails to the quick, he +glanced, almost glared, at his guest, as if impatient that a stranger’s +presence should interfere with the full indulgence of his morbid hour. +Meantime the sound of the parted waters came more and more gurglingly +and merrily in at the windows; as reproaching him for his dark spleen; +as telling him that, sulk as he might, and go mad with it, nature cared +not a jot; since, whose fault was it, pray? + +But the foul mood was now at its depth, as the fair wind at its height. + +There was something in the man so far beyond any mere unsociality or +sourness previously evinced, that even the forbearing good-nature of +his guest could no longer endure it. Wholly at a loss to account for +such demeanor, and deeming sickness with eccentricity, however extreme, +no adequate excuse, well satisfied, too, that nothing in his own +conduct could justify it, Captain Delano’s pride began to be roused. +Himself became reserved. But all seemed one to the Spaniard. Quitting +him, therefore, Captain Delano once more went to the deck. + +The ship was now within less than two miles of the sealer. The +whale-boat was seen darting over the interval. + +To be brief, the two vessels, thanks to the pilot’s skill, ere long +neighborly style lay anchored together. + +Before returning to his own vessel, Captain Delano had intended +communicating to Don Benito the smaller details of the proposed +services to be rendered. But, as it was, unwilling anew to subject +himself to rebuffs, he resolved, now that he had seen the San Dominick +safely moored, immediately to quit her, without further allusion to +hospitality or business. Indefinitely postponing his ulterior plans, he +would regulate his future actions according to future circumstances. +His boat was ready to receive him; but his host still tarried below. +Well, thought Captain Delano, if he has little breeding, the more need +to show mine. He descended to the cabin to bid a ceremonious, and, it +may be, tacitly rebukeful adieu. But to his great satisfaction, Don +Benito, as if he began to feel the weight of that treatment with which +his slighted guest had, not indecorously, retaliated upon him, now +supported by his servant, rose to his feet, and grasping Captain +Delano’s hand, stood tremulous; too much agitated to speak. But the +good augury hence drawn was suddenly dashed, by his resuming all his +previous reserve, with augmented gloom, as, with half-averted eyes, he +silently reseated himself on his cushions. With a corresponding return +of his own chilled feelings, Captain Delano bowed and withdrew. + +He was hardly midway in the narrow corridor, dim as a tunnel, leading +from the cabin to the stairs, when a sound, as of the tolling for +execution in some jail-yard, fell on his ears. It was the echo of the +ship’s flawed bell, striking the hour, drearily reverberated in this +subterranean vault. Instantly, by a fatality not to be withstood, his +mind, responsive to the portent, swarmed with superstitious suspicions. +He paused. In images far swifter than these sentences, the minutest +details of all his former distrusts swept through him. + +Hitherto, credulous good-nature had been too ready to furnish excuses +for reasonable fears. Why was the Spaniard, so superfluously +punctilious at times, now heedless of common propriety in not +accompanying to the side his departing guest? Did indisposition forbid? +Indisposition had not forbidden more irksome exertion that day. His +last equivocal demeanor recurred. He had risen to his feet, grasped his +guest’s hand, motioned toward his hat; then, in an instant, all was +eclipsed in sinister muteness and gloom. Did this imply one brief, +repentant relenting at the final moment, from some iniquitous plot, +followed by remorseless return to it? His last glance seemed to express +a calamitous, yet acquiescent farewell to Captain Delano forever. Why +decline the invitation to visit the sealer that evening? Or was the +Spaniard less hardened than the Jew, who refrained not from supping at +the board of him whom the same night he meant to betray? What imported +all those day-long enigmas and contradictions, except they were +intended to mystify, preliminary to some stealthy blow? Atufal, the +pretended rebel, but punctual shadow, that moment lurked by the +threshold without. He seemed a sentry, and more. Who, by his own +confession, had stationed him there? Was the negro now lying in wait? + +The Spaniard behind—his creature before: to rush from darkness to light +was the involuntary choice. + +The next moment, with clenched jaw and hand, he passed Atufal, and +stood unharmed in the light. As he saw his trim ship lying peacefully +at anchor, and almost within ordinary call; as he saw his household +boat, with familiar faces in it, patiently rising and falling, on the +short waves by the San Dominick’s side; and then, glancing about the +decks where he stood, saw the oakum-pickers still gravely plying their +fingers; and heard the low, buzzing whistle and industrious hum of the +hatchet-polishers, still bestirring themselves over their endless +occupation; and more than all, as he saw the benign aspect of nature, +taking her innocent repose in the evening; the screened sun in the +quiet camp of the west shining out like the mild light from Abraham’s +tent; as charmed eye and ear took in all these, with the chained figure +of the black, clenched jaw and hand relaxed. Once again he smiled at +the phantoms which had mocked him, and felt something like a tinge of +remorse, that, by harboring them even for a moment, he should, by +implication, have betrayed an atheist doubt of the ever-watchful +Providence above. + +There was a few minutes’ delay, while, in obedience to his orders, the +boat was being hooked along to the gangway. During this interval, a +sort of saddened satisfaction stole over Captain Delano, at thinking of +the kindly offices he had that day discharged for a stranger. Ah, +thought he, after good actions one’s conscience is never ungrateful, +however much so the benefited party may be. + +Presently, his foot, in the first act of descent into the boat, pressed +the first round of the side-ladder, his face presented inward upon the +deck. In the same moment, he heard his name courteously sounded; and, +to his pleased surprise, saw Don Benito advancing—an unwonted energy in +his air, as if, at the last moment, intent upon making amends for his +recent discourtesy. With instinctive good feeling, Captain Delano, +withdrawing his foot, turned and reciprocally advanced. As he did so, +the Spaniard’s nervous eagerness increased, but his vital energy +failed; so that, the better to support him, the servant, placing his +master’s hand on his naked shoulder, and gently holding it there, +formed himself into a sort of crutch. + +When the two captains met, the Spaniard again fervently took the hand +of the American, at the same time casting an earnest glance into his +eyes, but, as before, too much overcome to speak. + +I have done him wrong, self-reproachfully thought Captain Delano; his +apparent coldness has deceived me: in no instance has he meant to +offend. + +Meantime, as if fearful that the continuance of the scene might too +much unstring his master, the servant seemed anxious to terminate it. +And so, still presenting himself as a crutch, and walking between the +two captains, he advanced with them towards the gangway; while still, +as if full of kindly contrition, Don Benito would not let go the hand +of Captain Delano, but retained it in his, across the black’s body. + +Soon they were standing by the side, looking over into the boat, whose +crew turned up their curious eyes. Waiting a moment for the Spaniard to +relinquish his hold, the now embarrassed Captain Delano lifted his +foot, to overstep the threshold of the open gangway; but still Don +Benito would not let go his hand. And yet, with an agitated tone, he +said, “I can go no further; here I must bid you adieu. Adieu, my dear, +dear Don Amasa. Go—go!” suddenly tearing his hand loose, “go, and God +guard you better than me, my best friend.” + +Not unaffected, Captain Delano would now have lingered; but catching +the meekly admonitory eye of the servant, with a hasty farewell he +descended into his boat, followed by the continual adieus of Don +Benito, standing rooted in the gangway. + +Seating himself in the stern, Captain Delano, making a last salute, +ordered the boat shoved off. The crew had their oars on end. The +bowsmen pushed the boat a sufficient distance for the oars to be +lengthwise dropped. The instant that was done, Don Benito sprang over +the bulwarks, falling at the feet of Captain Delano; at the same time +calling towards his ship, but in tones so frenzied, that none in the +boat could understand him. But, as if not equally obtuse, three +sailors, from three different and distant parts of the ship, splashed +into the sea, swimming after their captain, as if intent upon his +rescue. + +The dismayed officer of the boat eagerly asked what this meant. To +which, Captain Delano, turning a disdainful smile upon the +unaccountable Spaniard, answered that, for his part, he neither knew +nor cared; but it seemed as if Don Benito had taken it into his head to +produce the impression among his people that the boat wanted to kidnap +him. “Or else—give way for your lives,” he wildly added, starting at a +clattering hubbub in the ship, above which rang the tocsin of the +hatchet-polishers; and seizing Don Benito by the throat he added, “this +plotting pirate means murder!” Here, in apparent verification of the +words, the servant, a dagger in his hand, was seen on the rail +overhead, poised, in the act of leaping, as if with desperate fidelity +to befriend his master to the last; while, seemingly to aid the black, +the three white sailors were trying to clamber into the hampered bow. +Meantime, the whole host of negroes, as if inflamed at the sight of +their jeopardized captain, impended in one sooty avalanche over the +bulwarks. + +All this, with what preceded, and what followed, occurred with such +involutions of rapidity, that past, present, and future seemed one. + +Seeing the negro coming, Captain Delano had flung the Spaniard aside, +almost in the very act of clutching him, and, by the unconscious +recoil, shifting his place, with arms thrown up, so promptly grappled +the servant in his descent, that with dagger presented at Captain +Delano’s heart, the black seemed of purpose to have leaped there as to +his mark. But the weapon was wrenched away, and the assailant dashed +down into the bottom of the boat, which now, with disentangled oars, +began to speed through the sea. + +At this juncture, the left hand of Captain Delano, on one side, again +clutched the half-reclined Don Benito, heedless that he was in a +speechless faint, while his right-foot, on the other side, ground the +prostrate negro; and his right arm pressed for added speed on the after +oar, his eye bent forward, encouraging his men to their utmost. + +But here, the officer of the boat, who had at last succeeded in beating +off the towing sailors, and was now, with face turned aft, assisting +the bowsman at his oar, suddenly called to Captain Delano, to see what +the black was about; while a Portuguese oarsman shouted to him to give +heed to what the Spaniard was saying. + +Glancing down at his feet, Captain Delano saw the freed hand of the +servant aiming with a second dagger—a small one, before concealed in +his wool—with this he was snakishly writhing up from the boat’s bottom, +at the heart of his master, his countenance lividly vindictive, +expressing the centred purpose of his soul; while the Spaniard, +half-choked, was vainly shrinking away, with husky words, incoherent to +all but the Portuguese. + +That moment, across the long-benighted mind of Captain Delano, a flash +of revelation swept, illuminating, in unanticipated clearness, his +host’s whole mysterious demeanor, with every enigmatic event of the +day, as well as the entire past voyage of the San Dominick. He smote +Babo’s hand down, but his own heart smote him harder. With infinite +pity he withdrew his hold from Don Benito. Not Captain Delano, but Don +Benito, the black, in leaping into the boat, had intended to stab. + +Both the black’s hands were held, as, glancing up towards the San +Dominick, Captain Delano, now with scales dropped from his eyes, saw +the negroes, not in misrule, not in tumult, not as if frantically +concerned for Don Benito, but with mask torn away, flourishing hatchets +and knives, in ferocious piratical revolt. Like delirious black +dervishes, the six Ashantees danced on the poop. Prevented by their +foes from springing into the water, the Spanish boys were hurrying up +to the topmost spars, while such of the few Spanish sailors, not +already in the sea, less alert, were descried, helplessly mixed in, on +deck, with the blacks. + +Meantime Captain Delano hailed his own vessel, ordering the ports up, +and the guns run out. But by this time the cable of the San Dominick +had been cut; and the fag-end, in lashing out, whipped away the canvas +shroud about the beak, suddenly revealing, as the bleached hull swung +round towards the open ocean, death for the figure-head, in a human +skeleton; chalky comment on the chalked words below, “_Follow your +leader_.” + +At the sight, Don Benito, covering his face, wailed out: “’Tis he, +Aranda! my murdered, unburied friend!” + +Upon reaching the sealer, calling for ropes, Captain Delano bound the +negro, who made no resistance, and had him hoisted to the deck. He +would then have assisted the now almost helpless Don Benito up the +side; but Don Benito, wan as he was, refused to move, or be moved, +until the negro should have been first put below out of view. When, +presently assured that it was done, he no more shrank from the ascent. + +The boat was immediately dispatched back to pick up the three swimming +sailors. Meantime, the guns were in readiness, though, owing to the San +Dominick having glided somewhat astern of the sealer, only the +aftermost one could be brought to bear. With this, they fired six +times; thinking to cripple the fugitive ship by bringing down her +spars. But only a few inconsiderable ropes were shot away. Soon the +ship was beyond the gun’s range, steering broad out of the bay; the +blacks thickly clustering round the bowsprit, one moment with taunting +cries towards the whites, the next with upthrown gestures hailing the +now dusky moors of ocean—cawing crows escaped from the hand of the +fowler. + +The first impulse was to slip the cables and give chase. But, upon +second thoughts, to pursue with whale-boat and yawl seemed more +promising. + +Upon inquiring of Don Benito what firearms they had on board the San +Dominick, Captain Delano was answered that they had none that could be +used; because, in the earlier stages of the mutiny, a cabin-passenger, +since dead, had secretly put out of order the locks of what few muskets +there were. But with all his remaining strength, Don Benito entreated +the American not to give chase, either with ship or boat; for the +negroes had already proved themselves such desperadoes, that, in case +of a present assault, nothing but a total massacre of the whites could +be looked for. But, regarding this warning as coming from one whose +spirit had been crushed by misery the American did not give up his +design. + +The boats were got ready and armed. Captain Delano ordered his men into +them. He was going himself when Don Benito grasped his arm. + +“What! have you saved my life, Señor, and are you now going to throw +away your own?” + +The officers also, for reasons connected with their interests and those +of the voyage, and a duty owing to the owners, strongly objected +against their commander’s going. Weighing their remonstrances a moment, +Captain Delano felt bound to remain; appointing his chief mate—an +athletic and resolute man, who had been a privateer’s-man—to head the +party. The more to encourage the sailors, they were told, that the +Spanish captain considered his ship good as lost; that she and her +cargo, including some gold and silver, were worth more than a thousand +doubloons. Take her, and no small part should be theirs. The sailors +replied with a shout. + +The fugitives had now almost gained an offing. It was nearly night; but +the moon was rising. After hard, prolonged pulling, the boats came up +on the ship’s quarters, at a suitable distance laying upon their oars +to discharge their muskets. Having no bullets to return, the negroes +sent their yells. But, upon the second volley, Indian-like, they +hurtled their hatchets. One took off a sailor’s fingers. Another struck +the whale-boat’s bow, cutting off the rope there, and remaining stuck +in the gunwale like a woodman’s axe. Snatching it, quivering from its +lodgment, the mate hurled it back. The returned gauntlet now stuck in +the ship’s broken quarter-gallery, and so remained. + +The negroes giving too hot a reception, the whites kept a more +respectful distance. Hovering now just out of reach of the hurtling +hatchets, they, with a view to the close encounter which must soon +come, sought to decoy the blacks into entirely disarming themselves of +their most murderous weapons in a hand-to-hand fight, by foolishly +flinging them, as missiles, short of the mark, into the sea. But, ere +long, perceiving the stratagem, the negroes desisted, though not before +many of them had to replace their lost hatchets with handspikes; an +exchange which, as counted upon, proved, in the end, favorable to the +assailants. + +Meantime, with a strong wind, the ship still clove the water; the boats +alternately falling behind, and pulling up, to discharge fresh volleys. + +The fire was mostly directed towards the stern, since there, chiefly, +the negroes, at present, were clustering. But to kill or maim the +negroes was not the object. To take them, with the ship, was the +object. To do it, the ship must be boarded; which could not be done by +boats while she was sailing so fast. + +A thought now struck the mate. Observing the Spanish boys still aloft, +high as they could get, he called to them to descend to the yards, and +cut adrift the sails. It was done. About this time, owing to causes +hereafter to be shown, two Spaniards, in the dress of sailors, and +conspicuously showing themselves, were killed; not by volleys, but by +deliberate marksman’s shots; while, as it afterwards appeared, by one +of the general discharges, Atufal, the black, and the Spaniard at the +helm likewise were killed. What now, with the loss of the sails, and +loss of leaders, the ship became unmanageable to the negroes. + +With creaking masts, she came heavily round to the wind; the prow +slowly swinging into view of the boats, its skeleton gleaming in the +horizontal moonlight, and casting a gigantic ribbed shadow upon the +water. One extended arm of the ghost seemed beckoning the whites to +avenge it. + +“Follow your leader!” cried the mate; and, one on each bow, the boats +boarded. Sealing-spears and cutlasses crossed hatchets and hand-spikes. +Huddled upon the long-boat amidships, the negresses raised a wailing +chant, whose chorus was the clash of the steel. + +For a time, the attack wavered; the negroes wedging themselves to beat +it back; the half-repelled sailors, as yet unable to gain a footing, +fighting as troopers in the saddle, one leg sideways flung over the +bulwarks, and one without, plying their cutlasses like carters’ whips. +But in vain. They were almost overborne, when, rallying themselves into +a squad as one man, with a huzza, they sprang inboard, where, +entangled, they involuntarily separated again. For a few breaths’ +space, there was a vague, muffled, inner sound, as of submerged +sword-fish rushing hither and thither through shoals of black-fish. +Soon, in a reunited band, and joined by the Spanish seamen, the whites +came to the surface, irresistibly driving the negroes toward the stern. +But a barricade of casks and sacks, from side to side, had been thrown +up by the main-mast. Here the negroes faced about, and though scorning +peace or truce, yet fain would have had respite. But, without pause, +overleaping the barrier, the unflagging sailors again closed. +Exhausted, the blacks now fought in despair. Their red tongues lolled, +wolf-like, from their black mouths. But the pale sailors’ teeth were +set; not a word was spoken; and, in five minutes more, the ship was +won. + +Nearly a score of the negroes were killed. Exclusive of those by the +balls, many were mangled; their wounds—mostly inflicted by the +long-edged sealing-spears, resembling those shaven ones of the English +at Preston Pans, made by the poled scythes of the Highlanders. On the +other side, none were killed, though several were wounded; some +severely, including the mate. The surviving negroes were temporarily +secured, and the ship, towed back into the harbor at midnight, once +more lay anchored. + +Omitting the incidents and arrangements ensuing, suffice it that, after +two days spent in refitting, the ships sailed in company for +Conception, in Chili, and thence for Lima, in Peru; where, before the +vice-regal courts, the whole affair, from the beginning, underwent +investigation. + +Though, midway on the passage, the ill-fated Spaniard, relaxed from +constraint, showed some signs of regaining health with free-will; yet, +agreeably to his own foreboding, shortly before arriving at Lima, he +relapsed, finally becoming so reduced as to be carried ashore in arms. +Hearing of his story and plight, one of the many religious institutions +of the City of Kings opened an hospitable refuge to him, where both +physician and priest were his nurses, and a member of the order +volunteered to be his one special guardian and consoler, by night and +by day. + +The following extracts, translated from one of the official Spanish +documents, will, it is hoped, shed light on the preceding narrative, as +well as, in the first place, reveal the true port of departure and true +history of the San Dominick’s voyage, down to the time of her touching +at the island of St. Maria. + +But, ere the extracts come, it may be well to preface them with a +remark. + +The document selected, from among many others, for partial translation, +contains the deposition of Benito Cereno; the first taken in the case. +Some disclosures therein were, at the time, held dubious for both +learned and natural reasons. The tribunal inclined to the opinion that +the deponent, not undisturbed in his mind by recent events, raved of +some things which could never have happened. But subsequent depositions +of the surviving sailors, bearing out the revelations of their captain +in several of the strangest particulars, gave credence to the rest. So +that the tribunal, in its final decision, rested its capital sentences +upon statements which, had they lacked confirmation, it would have +deemed it but duty to reject. + + +I, DON JOSE DE ABOS AND PADILLA, His Majesty’s Notary for the Royal +Revenue, and Register of this Province, and Notary Public of the Holy +Crusade of this Bishopric, etc. + +Do certify and declare, as much as is requisite in law, that, in the +criminal cause commenced the twenty-fourth of the month of September, +in the year seventeen hundred and ninety-nine, against the negroes of +the ship San Dominick, the following declaration before me was made: + +_Declaration of the first witness_, DON BENITO CERENO. + + +The same day, and month, and year, His Honor, Doctor Juan Martinez de +Rozas, Councilor of the Royal Audience of this Kingdom, and learned in +the law of this Intendency, ordered the captain of the ship San +Dominick, Don Benito Cereno, to appear; which he did, in his litter, +attended by the monk Infelez; of whom he received the oath, which he +took by God, our Lord, and a sign of the Cross; under which he promised +to tell the truth of whatever he should know and should be asked;—and +being interrogated agreeably to the tenor of the act commencing the +process, he said, that on the twentieth of May last, he set sail with +his ship from the port of Valparaiso, bound to that of Callao; loaded +with the produce of the country beside thirty cases of hardware and one +hundred and sixty blacks, of both sexes, mostly belonging to Don +Alexandro Aranda, gentleman, of the city of Mendoza; that the crew of +the ship consisted of thirty-six men, beside the persons who went as +passengers; that the negroes were in part as follows: + +[_Here, in the original, follows a list of some fifty names, +descriptions, and ages, compiled from certain recovered documents of +Aranda’s, and also from recollections of the deponent, from which +portions only are extracted._] + + +—One, from about eighteen to nineteen years, named José, and this was +the man that waited upon his master, Don Alexandro, and who speaks well +the Spanish, having served him four or five years; * * * a mulatto, +named Francesco, the cabin steward, of a good person and voice, having +sung in the Valparaiso churches, native of the province of Buenos +Ayres, aged about thirty-five years. * * * A smart negro, named Dago, +who had been for many years a grave-digger among the Spaniards, aged +forty-six years. * * * Four old negroes, born in Africa, from sixty to +seventy, but sound, calkers by trade, whose names are as follows:—the +first was named Muri, and he was killed (as was also his son named +Diamelo); the second, Nacta; the third, Yola, likewise killed; the +fourth, Ghofan; and six full-grown negroes, aged from thirty to +forty-five, all raw, and born among the Ashantees—Matiluqui, Yan, +Leche, Mapenda, Yambaio, Akim; four of whom were killed; * * * a +powerful negro named Atufal, who being supposed to have been a chief in +Africa, his owner set great store by him. * * * And a small negro of +Senegal, but some years among the Spaniards, aged about thirty, which +negro’s name was Babo; * * * that he does not remember the names of the +others, but that still expecting the residue of Don Alexandra’s papers +will be found, will then take due account of them all, and remit to the +court; * * * and thirty-nine women and children of all ages. + +[_The catalogue over, the deposition goes on_] + + +* * * That all the negroes slept upon deck, as is customary in this +navigation, and none wore fetters, because the owner, his friend +Aranda, told him that they were all tractable; * * * that on the +seventh day after leaving port, at three o’clock in the morning, all +the Spaniards being asleep except the two officers on the watch, who +were the boatswain, Juan Robles, and the carpenter, Juan Bautista +Gayete, and the helmsman and his boy, the negroes revolted suddenly, +wounded dangerously the boatswain and the carpenter, and successively +killed eighteen men of those who were sleeping upon deck, some with +hand-spikes and hatchets, and others by throwing them alive overboard, +after tying them; that of the Spaniards upon deck, they left about +seven, as he thinks, alive and tied, to manoeuvre the ship, and three +or four more, who hid themselves, remained also alive. Although in the +act of revolt the negroes made themselves masters of the hatchway, six +or seven wounded went through it to the cockpit, without any hindrance +on their part; that during the act of revolt, the mate and another +person, whose name he does not recollect, attempted to come up through +the hatchway, but being quickly wounded, were obliged to return to the +cabin; that the deponent resolved at break of day to come up the +companion-way, where the negro Babo was, being the ringleader, and +Atufal, who assisted him, and having spoken to them, exhorted them to +cease committing such atrocities, asking them, at the same time, what +they wanted and intended to do, offering, himself, to obey their +commands; that notwithstanding this, they threw, in his presence, three +men, alive and tied, overboard; that they told the deponent to come up, +and that they would not kill him; which having done, the negro Babo +asked him whether there were in those seas any negro countries where +they might be carried, and he answered them, No; that the negro Babo +afterwards told him to carry them to Senegal, or to the neighboring +islands of St. Nicholas; and he answered, that this was impossible, on +account of the great distance, the necessity involved of rounding Cape +Horn, the bad condition of the vessel, the want of provisions, sails, +and water; but that the negro Babo replied to him he must carry them in +any way; that they would do and conform themselves to everything the +deponent should require as to eating and drinking; that after a long +conference, being absolutely compelled to please them, for they +threatened to kill all the whites if they were not, at all events, +carried to Senegal, he told them that what was most wanting for the +voyage was water; that they would go near the coast to take it, and +thence they would proceed on their course; that the negro Babo agreed +to it; and the deponent steered towards the intermediate ports, hoping +to meet some Spanish, or foreign vessel that would save them; that +within ten or eleven days they saw the land, and continued their course +by it in the vicinity of Nasca; that the deponent observed that the +negroes were now restless and mutinous, because he did not effect the +taking in of water, the negro Babo having required, with threats, that +it should be done, without fail, the following day; he told him he saw +plainly that the coast was steep, and the rivers designated in the maps +were not to be found, with other reasons suitable to the circumstances; +that the best way would be to go to the island of Santa Maria, where +they might water easily, it being a solitary island, as the foreigners +did; that the deponent did not go to Pisco, that was near, nor make any +other port of the coast, because the negro Babo had intimated to him +several times, that he would kill all the whites the very moment he +should perceive any city, town, or settlement of any kind on the shores +to which they should be carried: that having determined to go to the +island of Santa Maria, as the deponent had planned, for the purpose of +trying whether, on the passage or near the island itself, they could +find any vessel that should favor them, or whether he could escape from +it in a boat to the neighboring coast of Arruco, to adopt the necessary +means he immediately changed his course, steering for the island; that +the negroes Babo and Atufal held daily conferences, in which they +discussed what was necessary for their design of returning to Senegal, +whether they were to kill all the Spaniards, and particularly the +deponent; that eight days after parting from the coast of Nasca, the +deponent being on the watch a little after day-break, and soon after +the negroes had their meeting, the negro Babo came to the place where +the deponent was, and told him that he had determined to kill his +master, Don Alexandro Aranda, both because he and his companions could +not otherwise be sure of their liberty, and that to keep the seamen in +subjection, he wanted to prepare a warning of what road they should be +made to take did they or any of them oppose him; and that, by means of +the death of Don Alexandro, that warning would best be given; but, that +what this last meant, the deponent did not at the time comprehend, nor +could not, further than that the death of Don Alexandro was intended; +and moreover the negro Babo proposed to the deponent to call the mate +Raneds, who was sleeping in the cabin, before the thing was done, for +fear, as the deponent understood it, that the mate, who was a good +navigator, should be killed with Don Alexandro and the rest; that the +deponent, who was the friend, from youth, of Don Alexandro, prayed and +conjured, but all was useless; for the negro Babo answered him that the +thing could not be prevented, and that all the Spaniards risked their +death if they should attempt to frustrate his will in this matter, or +any other; that, in this conflict, the deponent called the mate, +Raneds, who was forced to go apart, and immediately the negro Babo +commanded the Ashantee Martinqui and the Ashantee Lecbe to go and +commit the murder; that those two went down with hatchets to the berth +of Don Alexandro; that, yet half alive and mangled, they dragged him on +deck; that they were going to throw him overboard in that state, but +the negro Babo stopped them, bidding the murder be completed on the +deck before him, which was done, when, by his orders, the body was +carried below, forward; that nothing more was seen of it by the +deponent for three days; * * * that Don Alonzo Sidonia, an old man, +long resident at Valparaiso, and lately appointed to a civil office in +Peru, whither he had taken passage, was at the time sleeping in the +berth opposite Don Alexandro’s; that awakening at his cries, surprised +by them, and at the sight of the negroes with their bloody hatchets in +their hands, he threw himself into the sea through a window which was +near him, and was drowned, without it being in the power of the +deponent to assist or take him up; * * * that a short time after +killing Aranda, they brought upon deck his german-cousin, of +middle-age, Don Francisco Masa, of Mendoza, and the young Don Joaquin, +Marques de Aramboalaza, then lately from Spain, with his Spanish +servant Ponce, and the three young clerks of Aranda, José Mozairi +Lorenzo Bargas, and Hermenegildo Gandix, all of Cadiz; that Don Joaquin +and Hermenegildo Gandix, the negro Babo, for purposes hereafter to +appear, preserved alive; but Don Francisco Masa, José Mozairi, and +Lorenzo Bargas, with Ponce the servant, beside the boatswain, Juan +Robles, the boatswain’s mates, Manuel Viscaya and Roderigo Hurta, and +four of the sailors, the negro Babo ordered to be thrown alive into the +sea, although they made no resistance, nor begged for anything else but +mercy; that the boatswain, Juan Robles, who knew how to swim, kept the +longest above water, making acts of contrition, and, in the last words +he uttered, charged this deponent to cause mass to be said for his soul +to our Lady of Succor: * * * that, during the three days which +followed, the deponent, uncertain what fate had befallen the remains of +Don Alexandro, frequently asked the negro Babo where they were, and, if +still on board, whether they were to be preserved for interment ashore, +entreating him so to order it; that the negro Babo answered nothing +till the fourth day, when at sunrise, the deponent coming on deck, the +negro Babo showed him a skeleton, which had been substituted for the +ship’s proper figure-head—the image of Christopher Colon, the +discoverer of the New World; that the negro Babo asked him whose +skeleton that was, and whether, from its whiteness, he should not think +it a white’s; that, upon discovering his face, the negro Babo, coming +close, said words to this effect: “Keep faith with the blacks from here +to Senegal, or you shall in spirit, as now in body, follow your +leader,” pointing to the prow; * * * that the same morning the negro +Babo took by succession each Spaniard forward, and asked him whose +skeleton that was, and whether, from its whiteness, he should not think +it a white’s; that each Spaniard covered his face; that then to each +the negro Babo repeated the words in the first place said to the +deponent; * * * that they (the Spaniards), being then assembled aft, +the negro Babo harangued them, saying that he had now done all; that +the deponent (as navigator for the negroes) might pursue his course, +warning him and all of them that they should, soul and body, go the way +of Don Alexandro, if he saw them (the Spaniards) speak, or plot +anything against them (the negroes)—a threat which was repeated every +day; that, before the events last mentioned, they had tied the cook to +throw him overboard, for it is not known what thing they heard him +speak, but finally the negro Babo spared his life, at the request of +the deponent; that a few days after, the deponent, endeavoring not to +omit any means to preserve the lives of the remaining whites, spoke to +the negroes peace and tranquillity, and agreed to draw up a paper, +signed by the deponent and the sailors who could write, as also by the +negro Babo, for himself and all the blacks, in which the deponent +obliged himself to carry them to Senegal, and they not to kill any +more, and he formally to make over to them the ship, with the cargo, +with which they were for that time satisfied and quieted. * * But the +next day, the more surely to guard against the sailors’ escape, the +negro Babo commanded all the boats to be destroyed but the long-boat, +which was unseaworthy, and another, a cutter in good condition, which +knowing it would yet be wanted for towing the water casks, he had it +lowered down into the hold. + + +[_Various particulars of the prolonged and perplexed navigation ensuing +here follow, with incidents of a calamitous calm, from which portion +one passage is extracted, to wit_:] + + +—That on the fifth day of the calm, all on board suffering much from +the heat, and want of water, and five having died in fits, and mad, the +negroes became irritable, and for a chance gesture, which they deemed +suspicious—though it was harmless—made by the mate, Raneds, to the +deponent in the act of handing a quadrant, they killed him; but that +for this they afterwards were sorry, the mate being the only remaining +navigator on board, except the deponent. + + +—That omitting other events, which daily happened, and which can only +serve uselessly to recall past misfortunes and conflicts, after +seventy-three days’ navigation, reckoned from the time they sailed from +Nasca, during which they navigated under a scanty allowance of water, +and were afflicted with the calms before mentioned, they at last +arrived at the island of Santa Maria, on the seventeenth of the month +of August, at about six o’clock in the afternoon, at which hour they +cast anchor very near the American ship, Bachelor’s Delight, which lay +in the same bay, commanded by the generous Captain Amasa Delano; but at +six o’clock in the morning, they had already descried the port, and the +negroes became uneasy, as soon as at distance they saw the ship, not +having expected to see one there; that the negro Babo pacified them, +assuring them that no fear need be had; that straightway he ordered the +figure on the bow to be covered with canvas, as for repairs and had the +decks a little set in order; that for a time the negro Babo and the +negro Atufal conferred; that the negro Atufal was for sailing away, but +the negro Babo would not, and, by himself, cast about what to do; that +at last he came to the deponent, proposing to him to say and do all +that the deponent declares to have said and done to the American +captain; * * * * * * * that the negro Babo warned him that if he varied +in the least, or uttered any word, or gave any look that should give +the least intimation of the past events or present state, he would +instantly kill him, with all his companions, showing a dagger, which he +carried hid, saying something which, as he understood it, meant that +that dagger would be alert as his eye; that the negro Babo then +announced the plan to all his companions, which pleased them; that he +then, the better to disguise the truth, devised many expedients, in +some of them uniting deceit and defense; that of this sort was the +device of the six Ashantees before named, who were his bravoes; that +them he stationed on the break of the poop, as if to clean certain +hatchets (in cases, which were part of the cargo), but in reality to +use them, and distribute them at need, and at a given word he told +them; that, among other devices, was the device of presenting Atufal, +his right hand man, as chained, though in a moment the chains could be +dropped; that in every particular he informed the deponent what part he +was expected to enact in every device, and what story he was to tell on +every occasion, always threatening him with instant death if he varied +in the least: that, conscious that many of the negroes would be +turbulent, the negro Babo appointed the four aged negroes, who were +calkers, to keep what domestic order they could on the decks; that +again and again he harangued the Spaniards and his companions, +informing them of his intent, and of his devices, and of the invented +story that this deponent was to tell; charging them lest any of them +varied from that story; that these arrangements were made and matured +during the interval of two or three hours, between their first sighting +the ship and the arrival on board of Captain Amasa Delano; that this +happened about half-past seven o’clock in the morning, Captain Amasa +Delano coming in his boat, and all gladly receiving him; that the +deponent, as well as he could force himself, acting then the part of +principal owner, and a free captain of the ship, told Captain Amasa +Delano, when called upon, that he came from Buenos Ayres, bound to +Lima, with three hundred negroes; that off Cape Horn, and in a +subsequent fever, many negroes had died; that also, by similar +casualties, all the sea officers and the greatest part of the crew had +died. + + +[_And so the deposition goes on, circumstantially recounting the +fictitious story dictated to the deponent by Babo, and through the +deponent imposed upon Captain Delano; and also recounting the friendly +offers of Captain Delano, with other things, but all of which is here +omitted. After the fictitious story, etc. the deposition proceeds_:] + + +—that the generous Captain Amasa Delano remained on board all the day, +till he left the ship anchored at six o’clock in the evening, deponent +speaking to him always of his pretended misfortunes, under the +fore-mentioned principles, without having had it in his power to tell a +single word, or give him the least hint, that he might know the truth +and state of things; because the negro Babo, performing the office of +an officious servant with all the appearance of submission of the +humble slave, did not leave the deponent one moment; that this was in +order to observe the deponent’s actions and words, for the negro Babo +understands well the Spanish; and besides, there were thereabout some +others who were constantly on the watch, and likewise understood the +Spanish; * * * that upon one occasion, while deponent was standing on +the deck conversing with Amasa Delano, by a secret sign the negro Babo +drew him (the deponent) aside, the act appearing as if originating with +the deponent; that then, he being drawn aside, the negro Babo proposed +to him to gain from Amasa Delano full particulars about his ship, and +crew, and arms; that the deponent asked “For what?” that the negro Babo +answered he might conceive; that, grieved at the prospect of what might +overtake the generous Captain Amasa Delano, the deponent at first +refused to ask the desired questions, and used every argument to induce +the negro Babo to give up this new design; that the negro Babo showed +the point of his dagger; that, after the information had been obtained +the negro Babo again drew him aside, telling him that that very night +he (the deponent) would be captain of two ships, instead of one, for +that, great part of the American’s ship’s crew being to be absent +fishing, the six Ashantees, without any one else, would easily take it; +that at this time he said other things to the same purpose; that no +entreaties availed; that, before Amasa Delano’s coming on board, no +hint had been given touching the capture of the American ship: that to +prevent this project the deponent was powerless; * * *—that in some +things his memory is confused, he cannot distinctly recall every event; +* * *—that as soon as they had cast anchor at six of the clock in the +evening, as has before been stated, the American Captain took leave, to +return to his vessel; that upon a sudden impulse, which the deponent +believes to have come from God and his angels, he, after the farewell +had been said, followed the generous Captain Amasa Delano as far as the +gunwale, where he stayed, under pretense of taking leave, until Amasa +Delano should have been seated in his boat; that on shoving off, the +deponent sprang from the gunwale into the boat, and fell into it, he +knows not how, God guarding him; that— + + +[_Here, in the original, follows the account of what further happened +at the escape, and how the San Dominick was retaken, and of the passage +to the coast; including in the recital many expressions of “eternal +gratitude” to the “generous Captain Amasa Delano.” The deposition then +proceeds with recapitulatory remarks, and a partial renumeration of the +negroes, making record of their individual part in the past events, +with a view to furnishing, according to command of the court, the data +whereon to found the criminal sentences to be pronounced. From this +portion is the following_;] + + +—That he believes that all the negroes, though not in the first place +knowing to the design of revolt, when it was accomplished, approved it. +* * * That the negro, José, eighteen years old, and in the personal +service of Don Alexandro, was the one who communicated the information +to the negro Babo, about the state of things in the cabin, before the +revolt; that this is known, because, in the preceding midnight, he use +to come from his berth, which was under his master’s, in the cabin, to +the deck where the ringleader and his associates were, and had secret +conversations with the negro Babo, in which he was several times seen +by the mate; that, one night, the mate drove him away twice; * * that +this same negro José was the one who, without being commanded to do so +by the negro Babo, as Lecbe and Martinqui were, stabbed his master, Don +Alexandro, after he had been dragged half-lifeless to the deck; * * +that the mulatto steward, Francesco, was of the first band of +revolters, that he was, in all things, the creature and tool of the +negro Babo; that, to make his court, he, just before a repast in the +cabin, proposed, to the negro Babo, poisoning a dish for the generous +Captain Amasa Delano; this is known and believed, because the negroes +have said it; but that the negro Babo, having another design, forbade +Francesco; * * that the Ashantee Lecbe was one of the worst of them; +for that, on the day the ship was retaken, he assisted in the defense +of her, with a hatchet in each hand, with one of which he wounded, in +the breast, the chief mate of Amasa Delano, in the first act of +boarding; this all knew; that, in sight of the deponent, Lecbe struck, +with a hatchet, Don Francisco Masa, when, by the negro Babo’s orders, +he was carrying him to throw him overboard, alive, beside participating +in the murder, before mentioned, of Don Alexandro Aranda, and others of +the cabin-passengers; that, owing to the fury with which the Ashantees +fought in the engagement with the boats, but this Lecbe and Yan +survived; that Yan was bad as Lecbe; that Yan was the man who, by +Babo’s command, willingly prepared the skeleton of Don Alexandro, in a +way the negroes afterwards told the deponent, but which he, so long as +reason is left him, can never divulge; that Yan and Lecbe were the two +who, in a calm by night, riveted the skeleton to the bow; this also the +negroes told him; that the negro Babo was he who traced the inscription +below it; that the negro Babo was the plotter from first to last; he +ordered every murder, and was the helm and keel of the revolt; that +Atufal was his lieutenant in all; but Atufal, with his own hand, +committed no murder; nor did the negro Babo; * * that Atufal was shot, +being killed in the fight with the boats, ere boarding; * * that the +negresses, of age, were knowing to the revolt, and testified themselves +satisfied at the death of their master, Don Alexandro; that, had the +negroes not restrained them, they would have tortured to death, instead +of simply killing, the Spaniards slain by command of the negro Babo; +that the negresses used their utmost influence to have the deponent +made away with; that, in the various acts of murder, they sang songs +and danced—not gaily, but solemnly; and before the engagement with the +boats, as well as during the action, they sang melancholy songs to the +negroes, and that this melancholy tone was more inflaming than a +different one would have been, and was so intended; that all this is +believed, because the negroes have said it.—that of the thirty-six men +of the crew, exclusive of the passengers (all of whom are now dead), +which the deponent had knowledge of, six only remained alive, with four +cabin-boys and ship-boys, not included with the crew; * *—that the +negroes broke an arm of one of the cabin-boys and gave him strokes with +hatchets. + +[_Then follow various random disclosures referring to various periods +of time. The following are extracted_;] + + +—That during the presence of Captain Amasa Delano on board, some +attempts were made by the sailors, and one by Hermenegildo Gandix, to +convey hints to him of the true state of affairs; but that these +attempts were ineffectual, owing to fear of incurring death, and, +futhermore, owing to the devices which offered contradictions to the +true state of affairs, as well as owing to the generosity and piety of +Amasa Delano incapable of sounding such wickedness; * * * that Luys +Galgo, a sailor about sixty years of age, and formerly of the king’s +navy, was one of those who sought to convey tokens to Captain Amasa +Delano; but his intent, though undiscovered, being suspected, he was, +on a pretense, made to retire out of sight, and at last into the hold, +and there was made away with. This the negroes have since said; * * * +that one of the ship-boys feeling, from Captain Amasa Delano’s +presence, some hopes of release, and not having enough prudence, +dropped some chance-word respecting his expectations, which being +overheard and understood by a slave-boy with whom he was eating at the +time, the latter struck him on the head with a knife, inflicting a bad +wound, but of which the boy is now healing; that likewise, not long +before the ship was brought to anchor, one of the seamen, steering at +the time, endangered himself by letting the blacks remark some +expression in his countenance, arising from a cause similar to the +above; but this sailor, by his heedful after conduct, escaped; * * * +that these statements are made to show the court that from the +beginning to the end of the revolt, it was impossible for the deponent +and his men to act otherwise than they did; * * *—that the third clerk, +Hermenegildo Gandix, who before had been forced to live among the +seamen, wearing a seaman’s habit, and in all respects appearing to be +one for the time; he, Gandix, was killed by a musket ball fired through +mistake from the boats before boarding; having in his fright run up the +mizzen-rigging, calling to the boats—“don’t board,” lest upon their +boarding the negroes should kill him; that this inducing the Americans +to believe he some way favored the cause of the negroes, they fired two +balls at him, so that he fell wounded from the rigging, and was drowned +in the sea; * * *—that the young Don Joaquin, Marques de Aramboalaza, +like Hermenegildo Gandix, the third clerk, was degraded to the office +and appearance of a common seaman; that upon one occasion when Don +Joaquin shrank, the negro Babo commanded the Ashantee Lecbe to take tar +and heat it, and pour it upon Don Joaquin’s hands; * * *—that Don +Joaquin was killed owing to another mistake of the Americans, but one +impossible to be avoided, as upon the approach of the boats, Don +Joaquin, with a hatchet tied edge out and upright to his hand, was made +by the negroes to appear on the bulwarks; whereupon, seen with arms in +his hands and in a questionable attitude, he was shot for a renegade +seaman; * * *—that on the person of Don Joaquin was found secreted a +jewel, which, by papers that were discovered, proved to have been meant +for the shrine of our Lady of Mercy in Lima; a votive offering, +beforehand prepared and guarded, to attest his gratitude, when he +should have landed in Peru, his last destination, for the safe +conclusion of his entire voyage from Spain; * * *—that the jewel, with +the other effects of the late Don Joaquin, is in the custody of the +brethren of the Hospital de Sacerdotes, awaiting the disposition of the +honorable court; * * *—that, owing to the condition of the deponent, as +well as the haste in which the boats departed for the attack, the +Americans were not forewarned that there were, among the apparent crew, +a passenger and one of the clerks disguised by the negro Babo; * * +*—that, beside the negroes killed in the action, some were killed after +the capture and re-anchoring at night, when shackled to the ring-bolts +on deck; that these deaths were committed by the sailors, ere they +could be prevented. That so soon as informed of it, Captain Amasa +Delano used all his authority, and, in particular with his own hand, +struck down Martinez Gola, who, having found a razor in the pocket of +an old jacket of his, which one of the shackled negroes had on, was +aiming it at the negro’s throat; that the noble Captain Amasa Delano +also wrenched from the hand of Bartholomew Barlo a dagger, secreted at +the time of the massacre of the whites, with which he was in the act of +stabbing a shackled negro, who, the same day, with another negro, had +thrown him down and jumped upon him; * * *—that, for all the events, +befalling through so long a time, during which the ship was in the +hands of the negro Babo, he cannot here give account; but that, what he +has said is the most substantial of what occurs to him at present, and +is the truth under the oath which he has taken; which declaration he +affirmed and ratified, after hearing it read to him. + +He said that he is twenty-nine years of age, and broken in body and +mind; that when finally dismissed by the court, he shall not return +home to Chili, but betake himself to the monastery on Mount Agonia +without; and signed with his honor, and crossed himself, and, for the +time, departed as he came, in his litter, with the monk Infelez, to the +Hospital de Sacerdotes. + +BENITO CERENO. + + +DOCTOR ROZAS. + + +If the Deposition have served as the key to fit into the lock of the +complications which precede it, then, as a vault whose door has been +flung back, the San Dominick’s hull lies open to-day. + +Hitherto the nature of this narrative, besides rendering the +intricacies in the beginning unavoidable, has more or less required +that many things, instead of being set down in the order of occurrence, +should be retrospectively, or irregularly given; this last is the case +with the following passages, which will conclude the account: + +During the long, mild voyage to Lima, there was, as before hinted, a +period during which the sufferer a little recovered his health, or, at +least in some degree, his tranquillity. Ere the decided relapse which +came, the two captains had many cordial conversations—their fraternal +unreserve in singular contrast with former withdrawments. + +Again and again it was repeated, how hard it had been to enact the part +forced on the Spaniard by Babo. + +“Ah, my dear friend,” Don Benito once said, “at those very times when +you thought me so morose and ungrateful, nay, when, as you now admit, +you half thought me plotting your murder, at those very times my heart +was frozen; I could not look at you, thinking of what, both on board +this ship and your own, hung, from other hands, over my kind +benefactor. And as God lives, Don Amasa, I know not whether desire for +my own safety alone could have nerved me to that leap into your boat, +had it not been for the thought that, did you, unenlightened, return to +your ship, you, my best friend, with all who might be with you, stolen +upon, that night, in your hammocks, would never in this world have +wakened again. Do but think how you walked this deck, how you sat in +this cabin, every inch of ground mined into honey-combs under you. Had +I dropped the least hint, made the least advance towards an +understanding between us, death, explosive death—yours as mine—would +have ended the scene.” + +“True, true,” cried Captain Delano, starting, “you have saved my life, +Don Benito, more than I yours; saved it, too, against my knowledge and +will.” + +“Nay, my friend,” rejoined the Spaniard, courteous even to the point of +religion, “God charmed your life, but you saved mine. To think of some +things you did—those smilings and chattings, rash pointings and +gesturings. For less than these, they slew my mate, Raneds; but you had +the Prince of Heaven’s safe-conduct through all ambuscades.” + +“Yes, all is owing to Providence, I know: but the temper of my mind +that morning was more than commonly pleasant, while the sight of so +much suffering, more apparent than real, added to my good-nature, +compassion, and charity, happily interweaving the three. Had it been +otherwise, doubtless, as you hint, some of my interferences might have +ended unhappily enough. Besides, those feelings I spoke of enabled me +to get the better of momentary distrust, at times when acuteness might +have cost me my life, without saving another’s. Only at the end did my +suspicions get the better of me, and you know how wide of the mark they +then proved.” + +“Wide, indeed,” said Don Benito, sadly; “you were with me all day; +stood with me, sat with me, talked with me, looked at me, ate with me, +drank with me; and yet, your last act was to clutch for a monster, not +only an innocent man, but the most pitiable of all men. To such degree +may malign machinations and deceptions impose. So far may even the best +man err, in judging the conduct of one with the recesses of whose +condition he is not acquainted. But you were forced to it; and you were +in time undeceived. Would that, in both respects, it was so ever, and +with all men.” + +“You generalize, Don Benito; and mournfully enough. But the past is +passed; why moralize upon it? Forget it. See, yon bright sun has +forgotten it all, and the blue sea, and the blue sky; these have turned +over new leaves.” + +“Because they have no memory,” he dejectedly replied; “because they are +not human.” + +“But these mild trades that now fan your cheek, do they not come with a +human-like healing to you? Warm friends, steadfast friends are the +trades.” + +“With their steadfastness they but waft me to my tomb, Señor,” was the +foreboding response. + +“You are saved,” cried Captain Delano, more and more astonished and +pained; “you are saved: what has cast such a shadow upon you?” + +“The negro.” + +There was silence, while the moody man sat, slowly and unconsciously +gathering his mantle about him, as if it were a pall. + +There was no more conversation that day. + +But if the Spaniard’s melancholy sometimes ended in muteness upon +topics like the above, there were others upon which he never spoke at +all; on which, indeed, all his old reserves were piled. Pass over the +worst, and, only to elucidate let an item or two of these be cited. The +dress, so precise and costly, worn by him on the day whose events have +been narrated, had not willingly been put on. And that silver-mounted +sword, apparent symbol of despotic command, was not, indeed, a sword, +but the ghost of one. The scabbard, artificially stiffened, was empty. + +As for the black—whose brain, not body, had schemed and led the revolt, +with the plot—his slight frame, inadequate to that which it held, had +at once yielded to the superior muscular strength of his captor, in the +boat. Seeing all was over, he uttered no sound, and could not be forced +to. His aspect seemed to say, since I cannot do deeds, I will not speak +words. Put in irons in the hold, with the rest, he was carried to Lima. +During the passage, Don Benito did not visit him. Nor then, nor at any +time after, would he look at him. Before the tribunal he refused. When +pressed by the judges he fainted. On the testimony of the sailors alone +rested the legal identity of Babo. + +Some months after, dragged to the gibbet at the tail of a mule, the +black met his voiceless end. The body was burned to ashes; but for many +days, the head, that hive of subtlety, fixed on a pole in the Plaza, +met, unabashed, the gaze of the whites; and across the Plaza looked +towards St. Bartholomew’s church, in whose vaults slept then, as now, +the recovered bones of Aranda: and across the Rimac bridge looked +towards the monastery, on Mount Agonia without; where, three months +after being dismissed by the court, Benito Cereno, borne on the bier, +did, indeed, follow his leader. + + + + +THE LIGHTNING-ROD MAN. + + +What grand irregular thunder, thought I, standing on my hearth-stone +among the Acroceraunian hills, as the scattered bolts boomed overhead, +and crashed down among the valleys, every bolt followed by zigzag +irradiations, and swift slants of sharp rain, which audibly rang, like +a charge of spear-points, on my low shingled roof. I suppose, though, +that the mountains hereabouts break and churn up the thunder, so that +it is far more glorious here than on the plain. Hark!—someone at the +door. Who is this that chooses a time of thunder for making calls? And +why don’t he, man-fashion, use the knocker, instead of making that +doleful undertaker’s clatter with his fist against the hollow panel? +But let him in. Ah, here he comes. “Good day, sir:” an entire stranger. +“Pray be seated.” What is that strange-looking walking-stick he +carries: “A fine thunder-storm, sir.” + +“Fine?—Awful!” + +“You are wet. Stand here on the hearth before the fire.” + +“Not for worlds!” + +The stranger still stood in the exact middle of the cottage, where he +had first planted himself. His singularity impelled a closer scrutiny. +A lean, gloomy figure. Hair dark and lank, mattedly streaked over his +brow. His sunken pitfalls of eyes were ringed by indigo halos, and +played with an innocuous sort of lightning: the gleam without the bolt. +The whole man was dripping. He stood in a puddle on the bare oak floor: +his strange walking-stick vertically resting at his side. + +It was a polished copper rod, four feet long, lengthwise attached to a +neat wooden staff, by insertion into two balls of greenish glass, +ringed with copper bands. The metal rod terminated at the top +tripodwise, in three keen tines, brightly gilt. He held the thing by +the wooden part alone. + +“Sir,” said I, bowing politely, “have I the honor of a visit from that +illustrious god, Jupiter Tonans? So stood he in the Greek statue of +old, grasping the lightning-bolt. If you be he, or his viceroy, I have +to thank you for this noble storm you have brewed among our mountains. +Listen: That was a glorious peal. Ah, to a lover of the majestic, it is +a good thing to have the Thunderer himself in one’s cottage. The +thunder grows finer for that. But pray be seated. This old +rush-bottomed arm-chair, I grant, is a poor substitute for your +evergreen throne on Olympus; but, condescend to be seated.” + +While I thus pleasantly spoke, the stranger eyed me, half in wonder, +and half in a strange sort of horror; but did not move a foot. + +“Do, sir, be seated; you need to be dried ere going forth again.” + +I planted the chair invitingly on the broad hearth, where a little fire +had been kindled that afternoon to dissipate the dampness, not the +cold; for it was early in the month of September. + +But without heeding my solicitation, and still standing in the middle +of the floor, the stranger gazed at me portentously and spoke. + +“Sir,” said he, “excuse me; but instead of my accepting your invitation +to be seated on the hearth there, I solemnly warn _you_, that you had +best accept _mine_, and stand with me in the middle of the room. Good +heavens!” he cried, starting—“there is another of those awful crashes. +I warn you, sir, quit the hearth.” + +“Mr. Jupiter Tonans,” said I, quietly rolling my body on the stone, “I +stand very well here.” + +“Are you so horridly ignorant, then,” he cried, “as not to know, that +by far the most dangerous part of a house, during such a terrific +tempest as this, is the fire-place?” + +“Nay, I did not know that,” involuntarily stepping upon the first board +next to the stone. + +The stranger now assumed such an unpleasant air of successful +admonition, that—quite involuntarily again—I stepped back upon the +hearth, and threw myself into the erectest, proudest posture I could +command. But I said nothing. + +“For Heaven’s sake,” he cried, with a strange mixture of alarm and +intimidation—“for Heaven’s sake, get off the hearth! Know you not, that +the heated air and soot are conductors;—to say nothing of those immense +iron fire-dogs? Quit the spot—I conjure—I command you.” + +“Mr. Jupiter Tonans, I am not accustomed to be commanded in my own +house.” + +“Call me not by that pagan name. You are profane in this time of +terror.” + +“Sir, will you be so good as to tell me your business? If you seek +shelter from the storm, you are welcome, so long as you be civil; but +if you come on business, open it forthwith. Who are you?” + +“I am a dealer in lightning-rods,” said the stranger, softening his +tone; “my special business is—Merciful heaven! what a crash!—Have you +ever been struck—your premises, I mean? No? It’s best to be +provided;”—significantly rattling his metallic staff on the floor;—“by +nature, there are no castles in thunder-storms; yet, say but the word, +and of this cottage I can make a Gibraltar by a few waves of this wand. +Hark, what Himalayas of concussions!” + +“You interrupted yourself; your special business you were about to +speak of.” + +“My special business is to travel the country for orders for +lightning-rods. This is my specimen-rod;” tapping his staff; “I have +the best of references”—fumbling in his pockets. “In Criggan last +month, I put up three-and-twenty rods on only five buildings.” + +“Let me see. Was it not at Criggan last week, about midnight on +Saturday, that the steeple, the big elm, and the assembly-room cupola +were struck? Any of your rods there?” + +“Not on the tree and cupola, but the steeple.” + +“Of what use is your rod, then?” + +“Of life-and-death use. But my workman was heedless. In fitting the rod +at top to the steeple, he allowed a part of the metal to graze the tin +sheeting. Hence the accident. Not my fault, but his. Hark!” + +“Never mind. That clap burst quite loud enough to be heard without +finger-pointing. Did you hear of the event at Montreal last year? A +servant girl struck at her bed-side with a rosary in her hand; the +beads being metal. Does your beat extend into the Canadas?” + +“No. And I hear that there, iron rods only are in use. They should have +_mine_, which are copper. Iron is easily fused. Then they draw out the +rod so slender, that it has not body enough to conduct the full +electric current. The metal melts; the building is destroyed. My copper +rods never act so. Those Canadians are fools. Some of them knob the rod +at the top, which risks a deadly explosion, instead of imperceptibly +carrying down the current into the earth, as this sort of rod does. +_Mine_ is the only true rod. Look at it. Only one dollar a foot.” + +“This abuse of your own calling in another might make one distrustful +with respect to yourself.” + +“Hark! The thunder becomes less muttering. It is nearing us, and +nearing the earth, too. Hark! One crammed crash! All the vibrations +made one by nearness. Another flash. Hold!” + +“What do you?” I said, seeing him now, instantaneously relinquishing +his staff, lean intently forward towards the window, with his right +fore and middle fingers on his left wrist. But ere the words had well +escaped me, another exclamation escaped him. + +“Crash! only three pulses—less than a third of a mile off—yonder, +somewhere in that wood. I passed three stricken oaks there, ripped out +new and glittering. The oak draws lightning more than other timber, +having iron in solution in its sap. Your floor here seems oak. + +“Heart-of-oak. From the peculiar time of your call upon me, I suppose +you purposely select stormy weather for your journeys. When the thunder +is roaring, you deem it an hour peculiarly favorable for producing +impressions favorable to your trade.” + +“Hark!—Awful!” + +“For one who would arm others with fear you seem unbeseemingly timorous +yourself. Common men choose fair weather for their travels: you choose +thunder-storms; and yet—” + +“That I travel in thunder-storms, I grant; but not without particular +precautions, such as only a lightning-rod man may know. Hark! +Quick—look at my specimen rod. Only one dollar a foot.” + +“A very fine rod, I dare say. But what are these particular precautions +of yours? Yet first let me close yonder shutters; the slanting rain is +beating through the sash. I will bar up.” + +“Are you mad? Know you not that yon iron bar is a swift conductor? +Desist.” + +“I will simply close the shutters, then, and call my boy to bring me a +wooden bar. Pray, touch the bell-pull there. + +“Are you frantic? That bell-wire might blast you. Never touch bell-wire +in a thunder-storm, nor ring a bell of any sort.” + +“Nor those in belfries? Pray, will you tell me where and how one may be +safe in a time like this? Is there any part of my house I may touch +with hopes of my life?” + +“There is; but not where you now stand. Come away from the wall. The +current will sometimes run down a wall, and—a man being a better +conductor than a wall—it would leave the wall and run into him. Swoop! +_That_ must have fallen very nigh. That must have been globular +lightning.” + +“Very probably. Tell me at once, which is, in your opinion, the safest +part of this house? + +“This room, and this one spot in it where I stand. Come hither.” + +“The reasons first.” + +“Hark!—after the flash the gust—the sashes shiver—the house, the +house!—Come hither to me!” + +“The reasons, if you please.” + +“Come hither to me!” + +“Thank you again, I think I will try my old stand—the hearth. And now, +Mr. Lightning-rod-man, in the pauses of the thunder, be so good as to +tell me your reasons for esteeming this one room of the house the +safest, and your own one stand-point there the safest spot in it.” + +There was now a little cessation of the storm for a while. The +Lightning-rod man seemed relieved, and replied:— + +“Your house is a one-storied house, with an attic and a cellar; this +room is between. Hence its comparative safety. Because lightning +sometimes passes from the clouds to the earth, and sometimes from the +earth to the clouds. Do you comprehend?—and I choose the middle of the +room, because if the lightning should strike the house at all, it would +come down the chimney or walls; so, obviously, the further you are from +them, the better. Come hither to me, now.” + +“Presently. Something you just said, instead of alarming me, has +strangely inspired confidence.” + +“What have I said?” + +“You said that sometimes lightning flashes from the earth to the +clouds.” + +“Aye, the returning-stroke, as it is called; when the earth, being +overcharged with the fluid, flashes its surplus upward.” + +“The returning-stroke; that is, from earth to sky. Better and better. +But come here on the hearth and dry yourself.” + +“I am better here, and better wet.” + +“How?” + +“It is the safest thing you can do—Hark, again!—to get yourself +thoroughly drenched in a thunder-storm. Wet clothes are better +conductors than the body; and so, if the lightning strike, it might +pass down the wet clothes without touching the body. The storm deepens +again. Have you a rug in the house? Rugs are non-conductors. Get one, +that I may stand on it here, and you, too. The skies blacken—it is dusk +at noon. Hark!—the rug, the rug!” + +I gave him one; while the hooded mountains seemed closing and tumbling +into the cottage. + +“And now, since our being dumb will not help us,” said I, resuming my +place, “let me hear your precautions in traveling during +thunder-storms.” + +“Wait till this one is passed.” + +“Nay, proceed with the precautions. You stand in the safest possible +place according to your own account. Go on.” + +“Briefly, then. I avoid pine-trees, high houses, lonely barns, upland +pastures, running water, flocks of cattle and sheep, a crowd of men. If +I travel on foot—as to-day—I do not walk fast; if in my buggy, I touch +not its back or sides; if on horseback, I dismount and lead the horse. +But of all things, I avoid tall men.” + +“Do I dream? Man avoid man? and in danger-time, too.” + +“Tall men in a thunder-storm I avoid. Are you so grossly ignorant as +not to know, that the height of a six-footer is sufficient to discharge +an electric cloud upon him? Are not lonely Kentuckians, ploughing, smit +in the unfinished furrow? Nay, if the six-footer stand by running +water, the cloud will sometimes _select_ him as its conductor to that +running water. Hark! Sure, yon black pinnacle is split. Yes, a man is a +good conductor. The lightning goes through and through a man, but only +peels a tree. But sir, you have kept me so long answering your +questions, that I have not yet come to business. Will you order one of +my rods? Look at this specimen one? See: it is of the best of copper. +Copper’s the best conductor. Your house is low; but being upon the +mountains, that lowness does not one whit depress it. You mountaineers +are most exposed. In mountainous countries the lightning-rod man should +have most business. Look at the specimen, sir. One rod will answer for +a house so small as this. Look over these recommendations. Only one +rod, sir; cost, only twenty dollars. Hark! There go all the granite +Taconics and Hoosics dashed together like pebbles. By the sound, that +must have struck something. An elevation of five feet above the house, +will protect twenty feet radius all about the rod. Only twenty dollars, +sir—a dollar a foot. Hark!—Dreadful!—Will you order? Will you buy? +Shall I put down your name? Think of being a heap of charred offal, +like a haltered horse burnt in his stall; and all in one flash!” + +“You pretended envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary to and +from Jupiter Tonans,” laughed I; “you mere man who come here to put you +and your pipestem between clay and sky, do you think that because you +can strike a bit of green light from the Leyden jar, that you can +thoroughly avert the supernal bolt? Your rod rusts, or breaks, and +where are you? Who has empowered you, you Tetzel, to peddle round your +indulgences from divine ordinations? The hairs of our heads are +numbered, and the days of our lives. In thunder as in sunshine, I stand +at ease in the hands of my God. False negotiator, away! See, the scroll +of the storm is rolled back; the house is unharmed; and in the blue +heavens I read in the rainbow, that the Deity will not, of purpose, +make war on man’s earth.” + +“Impious wretch!” foamed the stranger, blackening in the face as the +rainbow beamed, “I will publish your infidel notions.” + +The scowl grew blacker on his face; the indigo-circles enlarged round +his eyes as the storm-rings round the midnight moon. He sprang upon me; +his tri-forked thing at my heart. + +I seized it; I snapped it; I dashed it; I trod it; and dragging the +dark lightning-king out of my door, flung his elbowed, copper sceptre +after him. + +But spite of my treatment, and spite of my dissuasive talk of him to my +neighbors, the Lightning-rod man still dwells in the land; still +travels in storm-time, and drives a brave trade with the fears of man. + + + + +THE ENCANTADAS; OR, ENCHANTED ISLES + + +SKETCH FIRST. +THE ISLES AT LARGE. + +—“That may not be, said then the ferryman, +Least we unweeting hap to be fordonne; +For those same islands seeming now and than, +Are not firme land, nor any certein wonne, +But stragling plots which to and fro do ronne +In the wide waters; therefore are they hight +The Wandering Islands; therefore do them shonne; +For they have oft drawne many a wandring wight +Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight; +For whosoever once hath fastened +His foot thereon may never it secure +But wandreth evermore uncertein and unsure.” + + +“Darke, dolefull, dreary, like a greedy grave, +That still for carrion carcasses doth crave; +On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly owl, +Shrieking his balefull note, which ever drave +Far from that haunt all other cheerful fowl, +And all about it wandring ghosts did wayle and howl.” + + +Take five-and-twenty heaps of cinders dumped here and there in an +outside city lot; imagine some of them magnified into mountains, and +the vacant lot the sea; and you will have a fit idea of the general +aspect of the Encantadas, or Enchanted Isles. A group rather of extinct +volcanoes than of isles; looking much as the world at large might, +after a penal conflagration. + +It is to be doubted whether any spot of earth can, in desolateness, +furnish a parallel to this group. Abandoned cemeteries of long ago, old +cities by piecemeal tumbling to their ruin, these are melancholy +enough; but, like all else which has but once been associated with +humanity, they still awaken in us some thoughts of sympathy, however +sad. Hence, even the Dead Sea, along with whatever other emotions it +may at times inspire, does not fail to touch in the pilgrim some of his +less unpleasurable feelings. + +And as for solitariness; the great forests of the north, the expanses +of unnavigated waters, the Greenland ice-fields, are the profoundest of +solitudes to a human observer; still the magic of their changeable +tides and seasons mitigates their terror; because, though unvisited by +men, those forests are visited by the May; the remotest seas reflect +familiar stars even as Lake Erie does; and in the clear air of a fine +Polar day, the irradiated, azure ice shows beautifully as malachite. + +But the special curse, as one may call it, of the Encantadas, that +which exalts them in desolation above Idumea and the Pole, is, that to +them change never comes; neither the change of seasons nor of sorrows. +Cut by the Equator, they know not autumn, and they know not spring; +while already reduced to the lees of fire, ruin itself can work little +more upon them. The showers refresh the deserts; but in these isles, +rain never falls. Like split Syrian gourds left withering in the sun, +they are cracked by an everlasting drought beneath a torrid sky. “Have +mercy upon me,” the wailing spirit of the Encantadas seems to cry, “and +send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my +tongue, for I am tormented in this flame.” + +Another feature in these isles is their emphatic uninhabitableness. It +is deemed a fit type of all-forsaken overthrow, that the jackal should +den in the wastes of weedy Babylon; but the Encantadas refuse to harbor +even the outcasts of the beasts. Man and wolf alike disown them. Little +but reptile life is here found: tortoises, lizards, immense spiders, +snakes, and that strangest anomaly of outlandish nature, the _aguano_. +No voice, no low, no howl is heard; the chief sound of life here is a +hiss. + +On most of the isles where vegetation is found at all, it is more +ungrateful than the blankness of Aracama. Tangled thickets of wiry +bushes, without fruit and without a name, springing up among deep +fissures of calcined rock, and treacherously masking them; or a parched +growth of distorted cactus trees. + +In many places the coast is rock-bound, or, more properly, +clinker-bound; tumbled masses of blackish or greenish stuff like the +dross of an iron-furnace, forming dark clefts and caves here and there, +into which a ceaseless sea pours a fury of foam; overhanging them with +a swirl of gray, haggard mist, amidst which sail screaming flights of +unearthly birds heightening the dismal din. However calm the sea +without, there is no rest for these swells and those rocks; they lash +and are lashed, even when the outer ocean is most at peace with, +itself. On the oppressive, clouded days, such as are peculiar to this +part of the watery Equator, the dark, vitrified masses, many of which +raise themselves among white whirlpools and breakers in detached and +perilous places off the shore, present a most Plutonian sight. In no +world but a fallen one could such lands exist. + +Those parts of the strand free from the marks of fire, stretch away in +wide level beaches of multitudinous dead shells, with here and there +decayed bits of sugar-cane, bamboos, and cocoanuts, washed upon this +other and darker world from the charming palm isles to the westward and +southward; all the way from Paradise to Tartarus; while mixed with the +relics of distant beauty you will sometimes see fragments of charred +wood and mouldering ribs of wrecks. Neither will any one be surprised +at meeting these last, after observing the conflicting currents which +eddy throughout nearly all the wide channels of the entire group. The +capriciousness of the tides of air sympathizes with those of the sea. +Nowhere is the wind so light, baffling, and every way unreliable, and +so given to perplexing calms, as at the Encantadas. Nigh a month has +been spent by a ship going from one isle to another, though but ninety +miles between; for owing to the force of the current, the boats +employed to tow barely suffice to keep the craft from sweeping upon the +cliffs, but do nothing towards accelerating her voyage. Sometimes it is +impossible for a vessel from afar to fetch up with the group itself, +unless large allowances for prospective lee-way have been made ere its +coming in sight. And yet, at other times, there is a mysterious +indraft, which irresistibly draws a passing vessel among the isles, +though not bound to them. + +True, at one period, as to some extent at the present day, large fleets +of whalemen cruised for spermaceti upon what some seamen call the +Enchanted Ground. But this, as in due place will be described, was off +the great outer isle of Albemarle, away from the intricacies of the +smaller isles, where there is plenty of sea-room; and hence, to that +vicinity, the above remarks do not altogether apply; though even there +the current runs at times with singular force, shifting, too, with as +singular a caprice. + +Indeed, there are seasons when currents quite unaccountable prevail for +a great distance round about the total group, and are so strong and +irregular as to change a vessel’s course against the helm, though +sailing at the rate of four or five miles the hour. The difference in +the reckonings of navigators, produced by these causes, along with the +light and variable winds, long nourished a persuasion, that there +existed two distinct clusters of isles in the parallel of the +Encantadas, about a hundred leagues apart. Such was the idea of their +earlier visitors, the Buccaneers; and as late as 1750, the charts of +that part of the Pacific accorded with the strange delusion. And this +apparent fleetingness and unreality of the locality of the isles was +most probably one reason for the Spaniards calling them the Encantada, +or Enchanted Group. + +But not uninfluenced by their character, as they now confessedly exist, +the modern voyager will be inclined to fancy that the bestowal of this +name might have in part originated in that air of spell-bound +desertness which so significantly invests the isles. Nothing can better +suggest the aspect of once living things malignly crumbled from +ruddiness into ashes. Apples of Sodom, after touching, seem these +isles. + +However wavering their place may seem by reason of the currents, they +themselves, at least to one upon the shore, appear invariably the same: +fixed, cast, glued into the very body of cadaverous death. + +Nor would the appellation, enchanted, seem misapplied in still another +sense. For concerning the peculiar reptile inhabitant of these +wilds—whose presence gives the group its second Spanish name, +Gallipagos—concerning the tortoises found here, most mariners have long +cherished a superstition, not more frightful than grotesque. They +earnestly believe that all wicked sea-officers, more especially +commodores and captains, are at death (and, in some cases, before +death) transformed into tortoises; thenceforth dwelling upon these hot +aridities, sole solitary lords of Asphaltum. + +Doubtless, so quaintly dolorous a thought was originally inspired by +the woe-begone landscape itself; but more particularly, perhaps, by the +tortoises. For, apart from their strictly physical features, there is +something strangely self-condemned in the appearance of these +creatures. Lasting sorrow and penal hopelessness are in no animal form +so suppliantly expressed as in theirs; while the thought of their +wonderful longevity does not fail to enhance the impression. + +Nor even at the risk of meriting the charge of absurdly believing in +enchantments, can I restrain the admission that sometimes, even now, +when leaving the crowded city to wander out July and August among the +Adirondack Mountains, far from the influences of towns and +proportionally nigh to the mysterious ones of nature; when at such +times I sit me down in the mossy head of some deep-wooded gorge, +surrounded by prostrate trunks of blasted pines and recall, as in a +dream, my other and far-distant rovings in the baked heart of the +charmed isles; and remember the sudden glimpses of dusky shells, and +long languid necks protruded from the leafless thickets; and again have +beheld the vitreous inland rocks worn down and grooved into deep ruts +by ages and ages of the slow draggings of tortoises in quest of pools +of scanty water; I can hardly resist the feeling that in my time I have +indeed slept upon evilly enchanted ground. + +Nay, such is the vividness of my memory, or the magic of my fancy, that +I know not whether I am not the occasional victim of optical delusion +concerning the Gallipagos. For, often in scenes of social merriment, +and especially at revels held by candle-light in old-fashioned +mansions, so that shadows are thrown into the further recesses of an +angular and spacious room, making them put on a look of haunted +undergrowth of lonely woods, I have drawn the attention of my comrades +by my fixed gaze and sudden change of air, as I have seemed to see, +slowly emerging from those imagined solitudes, and heavily crawling +along the floor, the ghost of a gigantic tortoise, with “Memento * * * +* *” burning in live letters upon his back. + + +SKETCH SECOND. +TWO SIDES TO A TORTOISE. + +“Most ugly shapes and horrible aspects, +Such as Dame Nature selfe mote feare to see, +Or shame, that ever should so fowle defects +From her most cunning hand escaped bee; +All dreadfull pourtraicts of deformitee. +No wonder if these do a man appall; +For all that here at home we dreadfull hold +Be but as bugs to fearen babes withall +Compared to the creatures in these isles’ entrall + + +“Fear naught, then said the palmer, well avized, +For these same monsters are not there indeed, +But are into these fearful shapes disguized. + + +“And lifting up his vertuous staffe on high, +Then all that dreadful armie fast gan flye +Into great Zethy’s bosom, where they hidden lye.” + + +In view of the description given, may one be gay upon the Encantadas? +Yes: that is, find one the gayety, and he will be gay. And, indeed, +sackcloth and ashes as they are, the isles are not perhaps unmitigated +gloom. For while no spectator can deny their claims to a most solemn +and superstitious consideration, no more than my firmest resolutions +can decline to behold the spectre-tortoise when emerging from its +shadowy recess; yet even the tortoise, dark and melancholy as it is +upon the back, still possesses a bright side; its calipee or +breast-plate being sometimes of a faint yellowish or golden tinge. +Moreover, every one knows that tortoises as well as turtle are of such +a make, that if you but put them on their backs you thereby expose +their bright sides without the possibility of their recovering +themselves, and turning into view the other. But after you have done +this, and because you have done this, you should not swear that the +tortoise has no dark side. Enjoy the bright, keep it turned up +perpetually if you can, but be honest, and don’t deny the black. +Neither should he, who cannot turn the tortoise from its natural +position so as to hide the darker and expose his livelier aspect, like +a great October pumpkin in the sun, for that cause declare the creature +to be one total inky blot. The tortoise is both black and bright. But +let us to particulars. + +Some months before my first stepping ashore upon the group, my ship was +cruising in its close vicinity. One noon we found ourselves off the +South Head of Albemarle, and not very far from the land. Partly by way +of freak, and partly by way of spying out so strange a country, a +boat’s crew was sent ashore, with orders to see all they could, and +besides, bring back whatever tortoises they could conveniently +transport. + +It was after sunset, when the adventurers returned. I looked down over +the ship’s high side as if looking down over the curb of a well, and +dimly saw the damp boat, deep in the sea with some unwonted weight. +Ropes were dropt over, and presently three huge antediluvian-looking +tortoises, after much straining, were landed on deck. They seemed +hardly of the seed of earth. We had been broad upon the waters for five +long months, a period amply sufficient to make all things of the land +wear a fabulous hue to the dreamy mind. Had three Spanish custom-house +officers boarded us then, it is not unlikely that I should have +curiously stared at them, felt of them, and stroked them much as +savages serve civilized guests. But instead of three custom-house +officers, behold these really wondrous tortoises—none of your schoolboy +mud-turtles—but black as widower’s weeds, heavy as chests of plate, +with vast shells medallioned and orbed like shields, and dented and +blistered like shields that have breasted a battle, shaggy, too, here +and there, with dark green moss, and slimy with the spray of the sea. +These mystic creatures, suddenly translated by night from unutterable +solitudes to our peopled deck, affected me in a manner not easy to +unfold. They seemed newly crawled forth from beneath the foundations of +the world. Yea, they seemed the identical tortoises whereon the Hindoo +plants this total sphere. With a lantern I inspected them more closely. +Such worshipful venerableness of aspect! Such furry greenness mantling +the rude peelings and healing the fissures of their shattered shells. I +no more saw three tortoises. They expanded—became transfigured. I +seemed to see three Roman Coliseums in magnificent decay. + +Ye oldest inhabitants of this, or any other isle, said I, pray, give me +the freedom of your three-walled towns. + +The great feeling inspired by these creatures was that of +age:—dateless, indefinite endurance. And in fact that any other +creature can live and breathe as long as the tortoise of the +Encantadas, I will not readily believe. Not to hint of their known +capacity of sustaining life, while going without food for an entire +year, consider that impregnable armor of their living mail. What other +bodily being possesses such a citadel wherein to resist the assaults of +Time? + +As, lantern in hand, I scraped among the moss and beheld the ancient +scars of bruises received in many a sullen fall among the marly +mountains of the isle—scars strangely widened, swollen, half +obliterate, and yet distorted like those sometimes found in the bark of +very hoary trees, I seemed an antiquary of a geologist, studying the +bird-tracks and ciphers upon the exhumed slates trod by incredible +creatures whose very ghosts are now defunct. + +As I lay in my hammock that night, overhead I heard the slow weary +draggings of the three ponderous strangers along the encumbered deck. +Their stupidity or their resolution was so great, that they never went +aside for any impediment. One ceased his movements altogether just +before the mid-watch. At sunrise I found him butted like a +battering-ram against the immovable foot of the foremast, and still +striving, tooth and nail, to force the impossible passage. That these +tortoises are the victims of a penal, or malignant, or perhaps a +downright diabolical enchanter, seems in nothing more likely than in +that strange infatuation of hopeless toil which so often possesses +them. I have known them in their journeyings ram themselves heroically +against rocks, and long abide there, nudging, wriggling, wedging, in +order to displace them, and so hold on their inflexible path. Their +crowning curse is their drudging impulse to straightforwardness in a +belittered world. + +Meeting with no such hinderance as their companion did, the other +tortoises merely fell foul of small stumbling-blocks—buckets, blocks, +and coils of rigging—and at times in the act of crawling over them +would slip with an astounding rattle to the deck. Listening to these +draggings and concussions, I thought me of the haunt from which they +came; an isle full of metallic ravines and gulches, sunk bottomlessly +into the hearts of splintered mountains, and covered for many miles +with inextricable thickets. I then pictured these three +straight-forward monsters, century after century, writhing through the +shades, grim as blacksmiths; crawling so slowly and ponderously, that +not only did toad-stools and all fungus things grow beneath their feet, +but a sooty moss sprouted upon their backs. With them I lost myself in +volcanic mazes; brushed away endless boughs of rotting thickets; till +finally in a dream I found myself sitting crosslegged upon the +foremost, a Brahmin similarly mounted upon either side, forming a +tripod of foreheads which upheld the universal cope. + +Such was the wild nightmare begot by my first impression of the +Encantadas tortoise. But next evening, strange to say, I sat down with +my shipmates, and made a merry repast from tortoise steaks, and +tortoise stews; and supper over, out knife, and helped convert the +three mighty concave shells into three fanciful soup-tureens, and +polished the three flat yellowish calipees into three gorgeous salvers. + + + + +SKETCH THIRD. +ROCK RODONDO. + +“For they this tight the Rock of vile Reproach, +A dangerous and dreadful place, +To which nor fish nor fowl did once approach, +But yelling meaws with sea-gulls hoars and bace +And cormoyrants with birds of ravenous race, +Which still sit waiting on that dreadful clift.” + + +“With that the rolling sea resounding soft +In his big base them fitly answered, +And on the Rock, the waves breaking aloft, +A solemn ineane unto them measured.” + + +“Then he the boteman bad row easily, +And let him heare some part of that rare melody.” + + +“Suddeinly an innumerable flight +Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering cride, +And with their wicked wings them oft did smight +And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night.” + + +“Even all the nation of unfortunate +And fatal birds about them flocked were.” + + +To go up into a high stone tower is not only a very fine thing in +itself, but the very best mode of gaining a comprehensive view of the +region round about. It is all the better if this tower stand solitary +and alone, like that mysterious Newport one, or else be sole survivor +of some perished castle. + +Now, with reference to the Enchanted Isles, we are fortunately supplied +with just such a noble point of observation in a remarkable rock, from +its peculiar figure called of old by the Spaniards, Rock Rodondo, or +Round Rock. Some two hundred and fifty feet high, rising straight from +the sea ten miles from land, with the whole mountainous group to the +south and east. Rock Rodondo occupies, on a large scale, very much the +position which the famous Campanile or detached Bell Tower of St. Mark +does with respect to the tangled group of hoary edifices around it. + +Ere ascending, however, to gaze abroad upon the Encantadas, this +sea-tower itself claims attention. It is visible at the distance of +thirty miles; and, fully participating in that enchantment which +pervades the group, when first seen afar invariably is mistaken for a +sail. Four leagues away, of a golden, hazy noon, it seems some Spanish +Admiral’s ship, stacked up with glittering canvas. Sail ho! Sail ho! +Sail ho! from all three masts. But coming nigh, the enchanted frigate +is transformed apace into a craggy keep. + +My first visit to the spot was made in the gray of the morning. With a +view of fishing, we had lowered three boats and pulling some two miles +from our vessel, found ourselves just before dawn of day close under +the moon-shadow of Rodondo. Its aspect was heightened, and yet +softened, by the strange double twilight of the hour. The great full +moon burnt in the low west like a half-spent beacon, casting a soft +mellow tinge upon the sea like that cast by a waning fire of embers +upon a midnight hearth; while along the entire east the invisible sun +sent pallid intimations of his coming. The wind was light; the waves +languid; the stars twinkled with a faint effulgence; all nature seemed +supine with the long night watch, and half-suspended in jaded +expectation of the sun. This was the critical hour to catch Rodondo in +his perfect mood. The twilight was just enough to reveal every striking +point, without tearing away the dim investiture of wonder. + +From a broken stair-like base, washed, as the steps of a water-palace, +by the waves, the tower rose in entablatures of strata to a shaven +summit. These uniform layers, which compose the mass, form its most +peculiar feature. For at their lines of junction they project flatly +into encircling shelves, from top to bottom, rising one above another +in graduated series. And as the eaves of any old barn or abbey are +alive with swallows, so were all these rocky ledges with unnumbered +sea-fowl. Eaves upon eaves, and nests upon nests. Here and there were +long birdlime streaks of a ghostly white staining the tower from sea to +air, readily accounting for its sail-like look afar. All would have +been bewitchingly quiescent, were it not for the demoniac din created +by the birds. Not only were the eaves rustling with them, but they flew +densely overhead, spreading themselves into a winged and continually +shifting canopy. The tower is the resort of aquatic birds for hundreds +of leagues around. To the north, to the east, to the west, stretches +nothing but eternal ocean; so that the man-of-war hawk coming from the +coasts of North America, Polynesia, or Peru, makes his first land at +Rodondo. And yet though Rodondo be terra-firma, no land-bird ever +lighted on it. Fancy a red-robin or a canary there! What a falling into +the hands of the Philistines, when the poor warbler should be +surrounded by such locust-flights of strong bandit birds, with long +bills cruel as daggers. + +I know not where one can better study the Natural History of strange +sea-fowl than at Rodondo. It is the aviary of Ocean. Birds light here +which never touched mast or tree; hermit-birds, which ever fly alone; +cloud-birds, familiar with unpierced zones of air. + +Let us first glance low down to the lowermost shelf of all, which is +the widest, too, and but a little space from high-water mark. What +outlandish beings are these? Erect as men, but hardly as symmetrical, +they stand all round the rock like sculptured caryatides, supporting +the next range of eaves above. Their bodies are grotesquely misshapen; +their bills short; their feet seemingly legless; while the members at +their sides are neither fin, wing, nor arm. And truly neither fish, +flesh, nor fowl is the penguin; as an edible, pertaining neither to +Carnival nor Lent; without exception the most ambiguous and least +lovely creature yet discovered by man. Though dabbling in all three +elements, and indeed possessing some rudimental claims to all, the +penguin is at home in none. On land it stumps; afloat it sculls; in the +air it flops. As if ashamed of her failure, Nature keeps this ungainly +child hidden away at the ends of the earth, in the Straits of Magellan, +and on the abased sea-story of Rodondo. + +But look, what are yon wobegone regiments drawn up on the next shelf +above? what rank and file of large strange fowl? what sea Friars of +Orders Gray? Pelicans. Their elongated bills, and heavy leathern +pouches suspended thereto, give them the most lugubrious expression. A +pensive race, they stand for hours together without motion. Their dull, +ashy plumage imparts an aspect as if they had been powdered over with +cinders. A penitential bird, indeed, fitly haunting the shores of the +clinkered Encantadas, whereon tormented Job himself might have well sat +down and scraped himself with potsherds. + +Higher up now we mark the gony, or gray albatross, anomalously so +called, an unsightly unpoetic bird, unlike its storied kinsman, which +is the snow-white ghost of the haunted Capes of Hope and Horn. + +As we still ascend from shelf to shelf, we find the tenants of the +tower serially disposed in order of their magnitude:—gannets, black and +speckled haglets, jays, sea-hens, sperm-whale-birds, gulls of all +varieties:—thrones, princedoms, powers, dominating one above another in +senatorial array; while, sprinkled over all, like an ever-repeated fly +in a great piece of broidery, the stormy petrel or Mother Cary’s +chicken sounds his continual challenge and alarm. That this mysterious +hummingbird of ocean—which, had it but brilliancy of hue, might, from +its evanescent liveliness, be almost called its butterfly, yet whose +chirrup under the stern is ominous to mariners as to the peasant the +death-tick sounding from behind the chimney jamb—should have its +special haunt at the Encantadas, contributes, in the seaman’s mind, not +a little to their dreary spell. + +As day advances the dissonant din augments. With ear-splitting cries +the wild birds celebrate their matins. Each moment, flights push from +the tower, and join the aerial choir hovering overhead, while their +places below are supplied by darting myriads. But down through all this +discord of commotion, I hear clear, silver, bugle-like notes unbrokenly +falling, like oblique lines of swift-slanting rain in a cascading +shower. I gaze far up, and behold a snow-white angelic thing, with one +long, lance-like feather thrust out behind. It is the bright, +inspiriting chanticleer of ocean, the beauteous bird, from its +bestirring whistle of musical invocation, fitly styled the “Boatswain’s +Mate.” + +The winged, life-clouding Rodondo had its full counterpart in the finny +hosts which peopled the waters at its base. Below the water-line, the +rock seemed one honey-comb of grottoes, affording labyrinthine +lurking-places for swarms of fairy fish. All were strange; many +exceedingly beautiful; and would have well graced the costliest glass +globes in which gold-fish are kept for a show. Nothing was more +striking than the complete novelty of many individuals of this +multitude. Here hues were seen as yet unpainted, and figures which are +unengraved. + +To show the multitude, avidity, and nameless fearlessness and tameness +of these fish, let me say, that often, marking through clear spaces of +water—temporarily made so by the concentric dartings of the fish above +the surface—certain larger and less unwary wights, which swam slow and +deep; our anglers would cautiously essay to drop their lines down to +these last. But in vain; there was no passing the uppermost zone. No +sooner did the hook touch the sea, than a hundred infatuates contended +for the honor of capture. Poor fish of Rodondo! in your victimized +confidence, you are of the number of those who inconsiderately trust, +while they do not understand, human nature. + +But the dawn is now fairly day. Band after band, the sea-fowl sail away +to forage the deep for their food. The tower is left solitary save the +fish-caves at its base. Its birdlime gleams in the golden rays like the +whitewash of a tall light-house, or the lofty sails of a cruiser. This +moment, doubtless, while we know it to be a dead desert rock other +voyagers are taking oaths it is a glad populous ship. + +But ropes now, and let us ascend. Yet soft, this is not so easy. + + + + +SKETCH FOURTH. +A PISGAH VIEW FROM THE ROCK. + +—“That done, he leads him to the highest mount, +From whence, far off he unto him did show:”— + + +If you seek to ascend Rock Rodondo, take the following prescription. Go +three voyages round the world as a main-royal-man of the tallest +frigate that floats; then serve a year or two apprenticeship to the +guides who conduct strangers up the Peak of Teneriffe; and as many more +respectively to a rope-dancer, an Indian juggler, and a chamois. This +done, come and be rewarded by the view from our tower. How we get +there, we alone know. If we sought to tell others, what the wiser were +they? Suffice it, that here at the summit you and I stand. Does any +balloonist, does the outlooking man in the moon, take a broader view of +space? Much thus, one fancies, looks the universe from Milton’s +celestial battlements. A boundless watery Kentucky. Here Daniel Boone +would have dwelt content. + +Never heed for the present yonder Burnt District of the Enchanted +Isles. Look edgeways, as it were, past them, to the south. You see +nothing; but permit me to point out the direction, if not the place, of +certain interesting objects in the vast sea, which, kissing this +tower’s base, we behold unscrolling itself towards the Antarctic Pole. + +We stand now ten miles from the Equator. Yonder, to the East, some six +hundred miles, lies the continent; this Rock being just about on the +parallel of Quito. + +Observe another thing here. We are at one of three uninhabited +clusters, which, at pretty nearly uniform distances from the main, +sentinel, at long intervals from each other, the entire coast of South +America. In a peculiar manner, also, they terminate the South American +character of country. Of the unnumbered Polynesian chains to the +westward, not one partakes of the qualities of the Encantadas or +Gallipagos, the isles of St. Felix and St. Ambrose, the isles +Juan-Fernandez and Massafuero. Of the first, it needs not here to +speak. The second lie a little above the Southern Tropic; lofty, +inhospitable, and uninhabitable rocks, one of which, presenting two +round hummocks connected by a low reef, exactly resembles a huge +double-headed shot. The last lie in the latitude of 33°; high, wild and +cloven. Juan Fernandez is sufficiently famous without further +description. Massafuero is a Spanish name, expressive of the fact, that +the isle so called lies _more without_, that is, further off the main +than its neighbor Juan. This isle Massafuero has a very imposing aspect +at a distance of eight or ten miles. Approached in one direction, in +cloudy weather, its great overhanging height and rugged contour, and +more especially a peculiar slope of its broad summits, give it much the +air of a vast iceberg drifting in tremendous poise. Its sides are split +with dark cavernous recesses, as an old cathedral with its gloomy +lateral chapels. Drawing nigh one of these gorges from sea, after a +long voyage, and beholding some tatterdemalion outlaw, staff in hand, +descending its steep rocks toward you, conveys a very queer emotion to +a lover of the picturesque. + +On fishing parties from ships, at various times, I have chanced to +visit each of these groups. The impression they give to the stranger +pulling close up in his boat under their grim cliffs is, that surely he +must be their first discoverer, such, for the most part, is the +unimpaired ... silence and solitude. And here, by the way, the mode in +which these isles were really first lighted upon by Europeans is not +unworthy of mention, especially as what is about to be said, likewise +applies to the original discovery of our Encantadas. + +Prior to the year 1563, the voyages made by Spanish ships from Peru to +Chili, were full of difficulty. Along this coast, the winds from the +South most generally prevail; and it had been an invariable custom to +keep close in with the land, from a superstitious conceit on the part +of the Spaniards, that were they to lose sight of it, the eternal +trade-wind would waft them into unending waters, from whence would be +no return. Here, involved among tortuous capes and headlands, shoals +and reefs, beating, too, against a continual head wind, often light, +and sometimes for days and weeks sunk into utter calm, the provincial +vessels, in many cases, suffered the extremest hardships, in passages, +which at the present day seem to have been incredibly protracted. There +is on record in some collections of nautical disasters, an account of +one of these ships, which, starting on a voyage whose duration was +estimated at ten days, spent four months at sea, and indeed never again +entered harbor, for in the end she was cast away. Singular to tell, +this craft never encountered a gale, but was the vexed sport of +malicious calms and currents. Thrice, out of provisions, she put back +to an intermediate port, and started afresh, but only yet again to +return. Frequent fogs enveloped her; so that no observation could be +had of her place, and once, when all hands were joyously anticipating +sight of their destination, lo! the vapors lifted and disclosed the +mountains from which they had taken their first departure. In the like +deceptive vapors she at last struck upon a reef, whence ensued a long +series of calamities too sad to detail. + +It was the famous pilot, Juan Fernandez, immortalized by the island +named after him, who put an end to these coasting tribulations, by +boldly venturing the experiment—as De Gama did before him with respect +to Europe—of standing broad out from land. Here he found the winds +favorable for getting to the South, and by running westward till beyond +the influences of the trades, he regained the coast without difficulty; +making the passage which, though in a high degree circuitous, proved +far more expeditious than the nominally direct one. Now it was upon +these new tracks, and about the year 1670, or thereabouts, that the +Enchanted Isles, and the rest of the sentinel groups, as they may be +called, were discovered. Though I know of no account as to whether any +of them were found inhabited or no, it may be reasonably concluded that +they have been immemorial solitudes. But let us return to Redondo. + +Southwest from our tower lies all Polynesia, hundreds of leagues away; +but straight west, on the precise line of his parallel, no land rises +till your keel is beached upon the Kingsmills, a nice little sail of, +say 5000 miles. + +Having thus by such distant references—with Rodondo the only possible +ones—settled our relative place on the sea, let us consider objects not +quite so remote. Behold the grim and charred Enchanted Isles. This +nearest crater-shaped headland is part of Albemarle, the largest of the +group, being some sixty miles or more long, and fifteen broad. Did you +ever lay eye on the real genuine Equator? Have you ever, in the largest +sense, toed the Line? Well, that identical crater-shaped headland +there, all yellow lava, is cut by the Equator exactly as a knife cuts +straight through the centre of a pumpkin pie. If you could only see so +far, just to one side of that same headland, across yon low dikey +ground, you would catch sight of the isle of Narborough, the loftiest +land of the cluster; no soil whatever; one seamed clinker from top to +bottom; abounding in black caves like smithies; its metallic shore +ringing under foot like plates of iron; its central volcanoes standing +grouped like a gigantic chimney-stack. + +Narborough and Albemarle are neighbors after a quite curious fashion. A +familiar diagram will illustrate this strange neighborhood: + + [Illustration] + +Cut a channel at the above letter joint, and the middle transverse limb +is Narborough, and all the rest is Albemarle. Volcanic Narborough lies +in the black jaws of Albemarle like a wolf’s red tongue in his open +month. + +If now you desire the population of Albemarle, I will give you, in +round numbers, the statistics, according to the most reliable estimates +made upon the spot: + +Men, none. Ant-eaters, unknown. Man-haters, unknown. +Lizards, 500,000. Snakes, 500,000. Spiders, 10,000,000. +Salamanders, unknown. Devils, do. Making a clean total +of 11,000,000, + +exclusive of an incomputable host of fiends, ant-eaters, man-haters, +and salamanders. + +Albemarle opens his mouth towards the setting sun. His distended jaws +form a great bay, which Narborough, his tongue, divides into halves, +one whereof is called Weather Bay, the other Lee Bay; while the +volcanic promontories, terminating his coasts, are styled South Head +and North Head. I note this, because these bays are famous in the +annals of the Sperm Whale Fishery. The whales come here at certain +seasons to calve. When ships first cruised hereabouts, I am told, they +used to blockade the entrance of Lee Bay, when their boats going round +by Weather Bay, passed through Narborough channel, and so had the +Leviathans very neatly in a pen. + +The day after we took fish at the base of this Round Tower, we had a +fine wind, and shooting round the north headland, suddenly descried a +fleet of full thirty sail, all beating to windward like a squadron in +line. A brave sight as ever man saw. A most harmonious concord of +rushing keels. Their thirty kelsons hummed like thirty harp-strings, +and looked as straight whilst they left their parallel traces on the +sea. But there proved too many hunters for the game. The fleet broke +up, and went their separate ways out of sight, leaving my own ship and +two trim gentlemen of London. These last, finding no luck either, +likewise vanished; and Lee Bay, with all its appurtenances, and without +a rival, devolved to us. + +The way of cruising here is this. You keep hovering about the entrance +of the bay, in one beat and out the next. But at times—not always, as +in other parts of the group—a racehorse of a current sweeps right +across its mouth. So, with all sails set, you carefully ply your tacks. +How often, standing at the foremast head at sunrise, with our patient +prow pointed in between these isles, did I gaze upon that land, not of +cakes, but of clinkers, not of streams of sparkling water, but arrested +torrents of tormented lava. + +As the ship runs in from the open sea, Narborough presents its side in +one dark craggy mass, soaring up some five or six thousand feet, at +which point it hoods itself in heavy clouds, whose lowest level fold is +as clearly defined against the rocks as the snow-line against the +Andes. There is dire mischief going on in that upper dark. There toil +the demons of fire, who, at intervals, irradiate the nights with a +strange spectral illumination for miles and miles around, but +unaccompanied by any further demonstration; or else, suddenly announce +themselves by terrific concussions, and the full drama of a volcanic +eruption. The blacker that cloud by day, the more may you look for +light by night. Often whalemen have found themselves cruising nigh that +burning mountain when all aglow with a ball-room blaze. Or, rather, +glass-works, you may call this same vitreous isle of Narborough, with +its tall chimney-stacks. + +Where we still stand, here on Rodondo, we cannot see all the other +isles, but it is a good place from which to point out where they lie. +Yonder, though, to the E.N.E., I mark a distant dusky ridge. It is +Abington Isle, one of the most northerly of the group; so solitary, +remote, and blank, it looks like No-Man’s Land seen off our northern +shore. I doubt whether two human beings ever touched upon that spot. So +far as yon Abington Isle is concerned, Adam and his billions of +posterity remain uncreated. + +Ranging south of Abington, and quite out of sight behind the long spine +of Albemarle, lies James’s Isle, so called by the early Buccaneers +after the luckless Stuart, Duke of York. Observe here, by the way, +that, excepting the isles particularized in comparatively recent times, +and which mostly received the names of famous Admirals, the Encantadas +were first christened by the Spaniards; but these Spanish names were +generally effaced on English charts by the subsequent christenings of +the Buccaneers, who, in the middle of the seventeenth century, called +them after English noblemen and kings. Of these loyal freebooters and +the things which associate their name with the Encantadas, we shall +hear anon. Nay, for one little item, immediately; for between James’s +Isle and Albemarle, lies a fantastic islet, strangely known as +“Cowley’s Enchanted Isle.” But, as all the group is deemed enchanted, +the reason must be given for the spell within a spell involved by this +particular designation. The name was bestowed by that excellent +Buccaneer himself, on his first visit here. Speaking in his published +voyages of this spot, he says—“My fancy led me to call it Cowley’s +Enchanted Isle, for, we having had a sight of it upon several points of +the compass, it appeared always in so many different forms; sometimes +like a ruined fortification; upon another point like a great city,” +etc. No wonder though, that among the Encantadas all sorts of ocular +deceptions and mirages should be met. + +That Cowley linked his name with this self-transforming and bemocking +isle, suggests the possibility that it conveyed to him some meditative +image of himself. At least, as is not impossible, if he were any +relative of the mildly-thoughtful and self-upbraiding poet Cowley, who +lived about his time, the conceit might seem unwarranted; for that sort +of thing evinced in the naming of this isle runs in the blood, and may +be seen in pirates as in poets. + +Still south of James’s Isle lie Jervis Isle, Duncan Isle, Grossman’s +Isle, Brattle Isle, Wood’s Isle, Chatham Isle, and various lesser +isles, for the most part an archipelago of aridities, without +inhabitant, history, or hope of either in all time to come. But not far +from these are rather notable isles—Barrington, Charles’s, Norfolk, and +Hood’s. Succeeding chapters will reveal some ground for their +notability. + + + + +SKETCH FIFTH. +THE FRIGATE, AND SHIP FLYAWAY. + +“Looking far forth into the ocean wide, +A goodly ship with banners bravely dight, +And flag in her top-gallant I espide, +Through the main sea making her merry flight.” + + +Ere quitting Rodondo, it must not be omitted that here, in 1813, the +U.S. frigate Essex, Captain David Porter, came near leaving her bones. +Lying becalmed one morning with a strong current setting her rapidly +towards the rock, a strange sail was descried, which—not out of keeping +with alleged enchantments of the neighborhood—seemed to be staggering +under a violent wind, while the frigate lay lifeless as if spell-bound. +But a light air springing up, all sail was made by the frigate in chase +of the enemy, as supposed—he being deemed an English whale-ship—but the +rapidity of the current was so great, that soon all sight was lost of +him; and, at meridian, the Essex, spite of her drags, was driven so +close under the foam-lashed cliffs of Rodondo that, for a time, all +hands gave her up. A smart breeze, however, at last helped her off, +though the escape was so critical as to seem almost miraculous. + +Thus saved from destruction herself, she now made use of that salvation +to destroy the other vessel, if possible. Renewing the chase in the +direction in which the stranger had disappeared, sight was caught of +him the following morning. Upon being descried he hoisted American +colors and stood away from the Essex. A calm ensued; when, still +confident that the stranger was an Englishman, Porter dispatched a +cutter, not to board the enemy, but drive back his boats engaged in +towing him. The cutter succeeded. Cutters were subsequently sent to +capture him; the stranger now showing English colors in place of +American. But, when the frigate’s boats were within a short distance of +their hoped-for prize, another sudden breeze sprang up; the stranger, +under all sail, bore off to the westward, and, ere night, was hull down +ahead of the Essex, which, all this time, lay perfectly becalmed. + +This enigmatic craft—American in the morning, and English in the +evening—her sails full of wind in a calm—was never again beheld. An +enchanted ship no doubt. So, at least, the sailors swore. + +This cruise of the Essex in the Pacific during the war of 1812, is, +perhaps, the strangest and most stirring to be found in the history of +the American navy. She captured the furthest wandering vessels; visited +the remotest seas and isles; long hovered in the charmed vicinity of +the enchanted group; and, finally, valiantly gave up the ghost fighting +two English frigates in the harbor of Valparaiso. Mention is made of +her here for the same reason that the Buccaneers will likewise receive +record; because, like them, by long cruising among the isles, +tortoise-hunting upon their shores, and generally exploring them; for +these and other reasons, the Essex is peculiarly associated with the +Encantadas. + +Here be it said that you have but three, eye-witness authorities worth +mentioning touching the Enchanted Isles:—Cowley, the Buccaneer (1684); +Colnet the whaling-ground explorer (1798); Porter, the post captain +(1813). Other than these you have but barren, bootless allusions from +some few passing voyagers or compilers. + + + + +SKETCH SIXTH. +BARRINGTON ISLE AND THE BUCCANEERS. + +“Let us all servile base subjection scorn, +And as we be sons of the earth so wide, +Let us our father’s heritage divide, +And challenge to ourselves our portions dew +Of all the patrimony, which a few +hold on hugger-mugger in their hand.” + + +“Lords of the world, and so will wander free, +Whereso us listeth, uncontroll’d of any.” + + +“How bravely now we live, how jocund, how near the +first inheritance, without fear, how free from little troubles!” + + +Near two centuries ago Barrington Isle was the resort of that famous +wing of the West Indian Buccaneers, which, upon their repulse from the +Cuban waters, crossing the Isthmus of Darien, ravaged the Pacific side +of the Spanish colonies, and, with the regularity and timing of a +modern mail, waylaid the royal treasure-ships plying between Manilla +and Acapulco. After the toils of piratic war, here they came to say +their prayers, enjoy their free-and-easies, count their crackers from +the cask, their doubloons from the keg, and measure their silks of Asia +with long Toledos for their yard-sticks. + +As a secure retreat, an undiscoverable hiding-place, no spot in those +days could have been better fitted. In the centre of a vast and silent +sea, but very little traversed—surrounded by islands, whose +inhospitable aspect might well drive away the chance navigator—and yet +within a few days’ sail of the opulent countries which they made their +prey—the unmolested Buccaneers found here that tranquillity which they +fiercely denied to every civilized harbor in that part of the world. +Here, after stress of weather, or a temporary drubbing at the hands of +their vindictive foes, or in swift flight with golden booty, those old +marauders came, and lay snugly out of all harm’s reach. But not only +was the place a harbor of safety, and a bower of ease, but for utility +in other things it was most admirable. + +Barrington Isle is, in many respects, singularly adapted to careening, +refitting, refreshing, and other seamen’s purposes. Not only has it +good water, and good anchorage, well sheltered from all winds by the +high land of Albemarle, but it is the least unproductive isle of the +group. Tortoises good for food, trees good for fuel, and long grass +good for bedding, abound here, and there are pretty natural walks, and +several landscapes to be seen. Indeed, though in its locality belonging +to the Enchanted group, Barrington Isle is so unlike most of its +neighbors, that it would hardly seem of kin to them. + +“I once landed on its western side,” says a sentimental voyager long +ago, “where it faces the black buttress of Albemarle. I walked beneath +groves of trees—not very lofty, and not palm trees, or orange trees, or +peach trees, to be sure—but, for all that, after long sea-faring, very +beautiful to walk under, even though they supplied no fruit. And here, +in calm spaces at the heads of glades, and on the shaded tops of slopes +commanding the most quiet scenery—what do you think I saw? Seats which +might have served Brahmins and presidents of peace societies. Fine old +ruins of what had once been symmetric lounges of stone and turf, they +bore every mark both of artificialness and age, and were, undoubtedly, +made by the Buccaneers. One had been a long sofa, with back and arms, +just such a sofa as the poet Gray might have loved to throw himself +upon, his Crebillon in hand. + +“Though they sometimes tarried here for months at a time, and used the +spot for a storing-place for spare spars, sails, and casks; yet it is +highly improbable that the Buccaneers ever erected dwelling-houses upon +the isle. They never were here except their ships remained, and they +would most likely have slept on board. I mention this, because I cannot +avoid the thought, that it is hard to impute the construction of these +romantic seats to any other motive than one of pure peacefulness and +kindly fellowship with nature. That the Buccaneers perpetrated the +greatest outrages is very true—that some of them were mere cutthroats +is not to be denied; but we know that here and there among their host +was a Dampier, a Wafer, and a Cowley, and likewise other men, whose +worst reproach was their desperate fortunes—whom persecution, or +adversity, or secret and unavengeable wrongs, had driven from Christian +society to seek the melancholy solitude or the guilty adventures of the +sea. At any rate, long as those ruins of seats on Barrington remain, +the most singular monuments are furnished to the fact, that all of the +Buccaneers were not unmitigated monsters. + +“But during my ramble on the isle I was not long in discovering other +tokens, of things quite in accordance with those wild traits, +popularly, and no doubt truly enough, imputed to the freebooters at +large. Had I picked up old sails and rusty hoops I would only have +thought of the ship’s carpenter and cooper. But I found old cutlasses +and daggers reduced to mere threads of rust, which, doubtless, had +stuck between Spanish ribs ere now. These were signs of the murderer +and robber; the reveler likewise had left his trace. Mixed with shells, +fragments of broken jars were lying here and there, high up upon the +beach. They were precisely like the jars now used upon the Spanish +coast for the wine and Pisco spirits of that country. + +“With a rusty dagger-fragment in one hand, and a bit of a wine-jar in +another, I sat me down on the ruinous green sofa I have spoken of, and +bethought me long and deeply of these same Buccaneers. Could it be +possible, that they robbed and murdered one day, reveled the next, and +rested themselves by turning meditative philosophers, rural poets, and +seat-builders on the third? Not very improbable, after all. For +consider the vacillations of a man. Still, strange as it may seem, I +must also abide by the more charitable thought; namely, that among +these adventurers were some gentlemanly, companionable souls, capable +of genuine tranquillity and virtue.” + + + + +SKETCH SEVENTH. +CHARLES’S ISLE AND THE DOG-KING. + +—So with outragious cry, +A thousand villeins round about him swarmed +Out of the rocks and caves adjoining nye; +Vile caitive wretches, ragged, rude, deformed; +All threatning death, all in straunge manner armed; +Some with unweldy clubs, some with long speares. +Some rusty knives, some staves in fier warmd. + + +We will not be of any occupation, +Let such vile vassals, born to base vocation, +Drudge in the world, and for their living droyle, +Which have no wit to live withouten toyle. + + +Southwest of Barrington lies Charles’s Isle. And hereby hangs a history +which I gathered long ago from a shipmate learned in all the lore of +outlandish life. + +During the successful revolt of the Spanish provinces from Old Spain, +there fought on behalf of Peru a certain Creole adventurer from Cuba, +who, by his bravery and good fortune, at length advanced himself to +high rank in the patriot army. The war being ended, Peru found itself +like many valorous gentlemen, free and independent enough, but with few +shot in the locker. In other words, Peru had not wherewithal to pay off +its troops. But the Creole—I forget his name—volunteered to take his +pay in lands. So they told him he might have his pick of the Enchanted +Isles, which were then, as they still remain, the nominal appanage of +Peru. The soldier straightway embarks thither, explores the group, +returns to Callao, and says he will take a deed of Charles’s Isle. +Moreover, this deed must stipulate that thenceforth Charles’s Isle is +not only the sole property of the Creole, but is forever free of Peru, +even as Peru of Spain. To be short, this adventurer procures himself to +be made in effect Supreme Lord of the Island, one of the princes of the +powers of the earth.[1] + + [1] The American Spaniards have long been in the habit of making + presents of islands to deserving individuals. The pilot Juan Fernandez + procured a deed of the isle named after him, and for some years + resided there before Selkirk came. It is supposed, however, that he + eventually contracted the blues upon his princely property, for after + a time he returned to the main, and as report goes, became a very + garrulous barber in the city of Lima. + + +He now sends forth a proclamation inviting subjects to his as yet +unpopulated kingdom. Some eighty souls, men and women, respond; and +being provided by their leader with necessaries, and tools of various +sorts, together with a few cattle and goats, take ship for the promised +land; the last arrival on board, prior to sailing, being the Creole +himself, accompanied, strange to say, by a disciplined cavalry company +of large grim dogs. These, it was observed on the passage, refusing to +consort with the emigrants, remained aristocratically grouped around +their master on the elevated quarter-deck, casting disdainful glances +forward upon the inferior rabble there; much as, from the ramparts, the +soldiers of a garrison, thrown into a conquered town, eye the +inglorious citizen-mob over which they are set to watch. + +Now Charles’s Isle not only resembles Barrington Isle in being much +more inhabitable than other parts of the group, but it is double the +size of Barrington, say forty or fifty miles in circuit. + +Safely debarked at last, the company, under direction of their lord and +patron, forthwith proceeded to build their capital city. They make +considerable advance in the way of walls of clinkers, and lava floors, +nicely sanded with cinders. On the least barren hills they pasture +their cattle, while the goats, adventurers by nature, explore the far +inland solitudes for a scanty livelihood of lofty herbage. Meantime, +abundance of fish and tortoises supply their other wants. + +The disorders incident to settling all primitive regions, in the +present case were heightened by the peculiarly untoward character of +many of the pilgrims. His Majesty was forced at last to proclaim +martial law, and actually hunted and shot with his own hand several of +his rebellious subjects, who, with most questionable intentions, had +clandestinely encamped in the interior, whence they stole by night, to +prowl barefooted on tiptoe round the precincts of the lava-palace. It +is to be remarked, however, that prior to such stern proceedings, the +more reliable men had been judiciously picked out for an infantry +body-guard, subordinate to the cavalry body-guard of dogs. But the +state of politics in this unhappy nation may be somewhat imagined, from +the circumstance that all who were not of the body-guard were downright +plotters and malignant traitors. At length the death penalty was +tacitly abolished, owing to the timely thought, that were strict +sportsman’s justice to be dispensed among such subjects, ere long the +Nimrod King would have little or no remaining game to shoot. The human +part of the life-guard was now disbanded, and set to work cultivating +the soil, and raising potatoes; the regular army now solely consisting +of the dog-regiment. These, as I have heard, were of a singularly +ferocious character, though by severe training rendered docile to their +master. Armed to the teeth, the Creole now goes in state, surrounded by +his canine janizaries, whose terrific bayings prove quite as +serviceable as bayonets in keeping down the surgings of revolt. + +But the census of the isle, sadly lessened by the dispensation of +justice, and not materially recruited by matrimony, began to fill his +mind with sad mistrust. Some way the population must be increased. Now, +from its possessing a little water, and its comparative pleasantness of +aspect, Charles’s Isle at this period was occasionally visited by +foreign whalers. These His Majesty had always levied upon for port +charges, thereby contributing to his revenue. But now he had additional +designs. By insidious arts he, from time to time, cajoles certain +sailors to desert their ships, and enlist beneath his banner. Soon as +missed, their captains crave permission to go and hunt them up. +Whereupon His Majesty first hides them very carefully away, and then +freely permits the search. In consequence, the delinquents are never +found, and the ships retire without them. + +Thus, by a two-edged policy of this crafty monarch, foreign nations +were crippled in the number of their subjects, and his own were greatly +multiplied. He particularly petted these renegado strangers. But alas +for the deep-laid schemes of ambitious princes, and alas for the vanity +of glory. As the foreign-born Pretorians, unwisely introduced into the +Roman state, and still more unwisely made favorites of the Emperors, at +last insulted and overturned the throne, even so these lawless +mariners, with all the rest of the body-guard and all the populace, +broke out into a terrible mutiny, and defied their master. He marched +against them with all his dogs. A deadly battle ensued upon the beach. +It raged for three hours, the dogs fighting with determined valor, and +the sailors reckless of everything but victory. Three men and thirteen +dogs were left dead upon the field, many on both sides were wounded, +and the king was forced to fly with the remainder of his canine +regiment. The enemy pursued, stoning the dogs with their master into +the wilderness of the interior. Discontinuing the pursuit, the victors +returned to the village on the shore, stove the spirit casks, and +proclaimed a Republic. The dead men were interred with the honors of +war, and the dead dogs ignominiously thrown into the sea. At last, +forced by stress of suffering, the fugitive Creole came down from the +hills and offered to treat for peace. But the rebels refused it on any +other terms than his unconditional banishment. Accordingly, the next +ship that arrived carried away the ex-king to Peru. + +The history of the king of Charles’s Island furnishes another +illustration of the difficulty of colonizing barren islands with +unprincipled pilgrims. + +Doubtless for a long time the exiled monarch, pensively ruralizing in +Peru, which afforded him a safe asylum in his calamity, watched every +arrival from the Encantadas, to hear news of the failure of the +Republic, the consequent penitence of the rebels, and his own recall to +royalty. Doubtless he deemed the Republic but a miserable experiment +which would soon explode. But no, the insurgents had confederated +themselves into a democracy neither Grecian, Roman, nor American. Nay, +it was no democracy at all, but a permanent _Riotocracy_, which gloried +in having no law but lawlessness. Great inducements being offered to +deserters, their ranks were swelled by accessions of scamps from every +ship which touched their shores. Charles’s Island was proclaimed the +asylum of the oppressed of all navies. Each runaway tar was hailed as a +martyr in the cause of freedom, and became immediately installed a +ragged citizen of this universal nation. In vain the captains of +absconding seamen strove to regain them. Their new compatriots were +ready to give any number of ornamental eyes in their behalf. They had +few cannon, but their fists were not to be trifled with. So at last it +came to pass that no vessels acquainted with the character of that +country durst touch there, however sorely in want of refreshment. It +became Anathema—a sea Alsatia—the unassailed lurking-place of all sorts +of desperadoes, who in the name of liberty did just what they pleased. +They continually fluctuated in their numbers. Sailors, deserting ships +at other islands, or in boats at sea anywhere in that vicinity, steered +for Charles’s Isle, as to their sure home of refuge; while, sated with +the life of the isle, numbers from time to time crossed the water to +the neighboring ones, and there presenting themselves to strange +captains as shipwrecked seamen, often succeeded in getting on board +vessels bound to the Spanish coast, and having a compassionate purse +made up for them on landing there. + +One warm night during my first visit to the group, our ship was +floating along in languid stillness, when some one on the forecastle +shouted “Light ho!” We looked and saw a beacon burning on some obscure +land off the beam. Our third mate was not intimate with this part of +the world. Going to the captain he said, “Sir, shall I put off in a +boat? These must be shipwrecked men.” + +The captain laughed rather grimly, as, shaking his fist towards the +beacon, he rapped out an oath, and said—“No, no, you precious rascals, +you don’t juggle one of my boats ashore this blessed night. You do +well, you thieves—you do benevolently to hoist a light yonder as on a +dangerous shoal. It tempts no wise man to pull off and see what’s the +matter, but bids him steer small and keep off shore—that is Charles’s +Island; brace up, Mr. Mate, and keep the light astern.” + + + + +SKETCH EIGHTH. +NORFOLK ISLE AND THE CHOLA WIDOW. + +“At last they in an island did espy +A seemly woman sitting by the shore, +That with great sorrow and sad agony +Seemed some great misfortune to deplore; +And loud to them for succor called evermore.” + +“Black his eye as the midnight sky. +White his neck as the driven snow, +Red his cheek as the morning light;— +Cold he lies in the ground below. +My love is dead, +Gone to his death-bed, ys +All under the cactus tree.” + +“Each lonely scene shall thee restore, +For thee the tear be duly shed; +Belov’d till life can charm no more, +And mourned till Pity’s self be dead.” + + +Far to the northeast of Charles’s Isle, sequestered from the rest, lies +Norfolk Isle; and, however insignificant to most voyagers, to me, +through sympathy, that lone island has become a spot made sacred by the +strangest trials of humanity. + +It was my first visit to the Encantadas. Two days had been spent ashore +in hunting tortoises. There was not time to capture many; so on the +third afternoon we loosed our sails. We were just in the act of getting +under way, the uprooted anchor yet suspended and invisibly swaying +beneath the wave, as the good ship gradually turned her heel to leave +the isle behind, when the seaman who heaved with me at the windlass +paused suddenly, and directed my attention to something moving on the +land, not along the beach, but somewhat back, fluttering from a height. + +In view of the sequel of this little story, be it here narrated how it +came to pass, that an object which partly from its being so small was +quite lost to every other man on board, still caught the eye of my +handspike companion. The rest of the crew, myself included, merely +stood up to our spikes in heaving, whereas, unwontedly exhilarated, at +every turn of the ponderous windlass, my belted comrade leaped atop of +it, with might and main giving a downward, thewey, perpendicular heave, +his raised eye bent in cheery animation upon the slowly receding shore. +Being high lifted above all others was the reason he perceived the +object, otherwise unperceivable; and this elevation of his eye was +owing to the elevation of his spirits; and this again—for truth must +out—to a dram of Peruvian pisco, in guerdon for some kindness done, +secretly administered to him that morning by our mulatto steward. Now, +certainly, pisco does a deal of mischief in the world; yet seeing that, +in the present case, it was the means, though indirect, of rescuing a +human being from the most dreadful fate, must we not also needs admit +that sometimes pisco does a deal of good? + +Glancing across the water in the direction pointed out, I saw some +white thing hanging from an inland rock, perhaps half a mile from the +sea. + +“It is a bird; a white-winged bird; perhaps a—no; it is—it is a +handkerchief!” + +“Ay, a handkerchief!” echoed my comrade, and with a louder shout +apprised the captain. + +Quickly now—like the running out and training of a great gun—the long +cabin spy-glass was thrust through the mizzen rigging from the high +platform of the poop; whereupon a human figure was plainly seen upon +the inland rock, eagerly waving towards us what seemed to be the +handkerchief. + +Our captain was a prompt, good fellow. Dropping the glass, he lustily +ran forward, ordering the anchor to be dropped again; hands to stand by +a boat, and lower away. + +In a half-hour’s time the swift boat returned. It went with six and +came with seven; and the seventh was a woman. + +It is not artistic heartlessness, but I wish I could but draw in +crayons; for this woman was a most touching sight; and crayons, tracing +softly melancholy lines, would best depict the mournful image of the +dark-damasked Chola widow. + +Her story was soon told, and though given in her own strange language +was as quickly understood; for our captain, from long trading on the +Chilian coast, was well versed in the Spanish. A Cholo, or half-breed +Indian woman of Payta in Peru, three years gone by, with her young +new-wedded husband Felipe, of pure Castilian blood, and her one only +Indian brother, Truxill, Hunilla had taken passage on the main in a +French whaler, commanded by a joyous man; which vessel, bound to the +cruising grounds beyond the Enchanted Isles, proposed passing close by +their vicinity. The object of the little party was to procure tortoise +oil, a fluid which for its great purity and delicacy is held in high +estimation wherever known; and it is well known all along this part of +the Pacific coast. With a chest of clothes, tools, cooking utensils, a +rude apparatus for trying out the oil, some casks of biscuit, and other +things, not omitting two favorite dogs, of which faithful animal all +the Cholos are very fond, Hunilla and her companions were safely landed +at their chosen place; the Frenchman, according to the contract made +ere sailing, engaged to take them off upon returning from a four +months’ cruise in the westward seas; which interval the three +adventurers deemed quite sufficient for their purposes. + +On the isle’s lone beach they paid him in silver for their passage out, +the stranger having declined to carry them at all except upon that +condition; though willing to take every means to insure the due +fulfillment of his promise. Felipe had striven hard to have this +payment put off to the period of the ship’s return. But in vain. Still +they thought they had, in another way, ample pledge of the good faith +of the Frenchman. It was arranged that the expenses of the passage home +should not be payable in silver, but in tortoises; one hundred +tortoises ready captured to the returning captain’s hand. These the +Cholos meant to secure after their own work was done, against the +probable time of the Frenchman’s coming back; and no doubt in prospect +already felt, that in those hundred tortoises—now somewhere ranging the +isle’s interior—they possessed one hundred hostages. Enough: the vessel +sailed; the gazing three on shore answered the loud glee of the singing +crew; and ere evening, the French craft was hull down in the distant +sea, its masts three faintest lines which quickly faded from Hunilla’s +eye. + +The stranger had given a blithesome promise, and anchored it with +oaths; but oaths and anchors equally will drag; naught else abides on +fickle earth but unkept promises of joy. Contrary winds from out +unstable skies, or contrary moods of his more varying mind, or +shipwreck and sudden death in solitary waves; whatever was the cause, +the blithe stranger never was seen again. + +Yet, however dire a calamity was here in store, misgivings of it ere +due time never disturbed the Cholos’ busy mind, now all intent upon the +toilsome matter which had brought them hither. Nay, by swift doom +coming like the thief at night, ere seven weeks went by, two of the +little party were removed from all anxieties of land or sea. No more +they sought to gaze with feverish fear, or still more feverish hope, +beyond the present’s horizon line; but into the furthest future their +own silent spirits sailed. By persevering labor beneath that burning +sun, Felipe and Truxill had brought down to their hut many scores of +tortoises, and tried out the oil, when, elated with their good success, +and to reward themselves for such hard work, they, too hastily, made a +catamaran, or Indian raft, much used on the Spanish main, and merrily +started on a fishing trip, just without a long reef with many jagged +gaps, running parallel with the shore, about half a mile from it. By +some bad tide or hap, or natural negligence of joyfulness (for though +they could not be heard, yet by their gestures they seemed singing at +the time) forced in deep water against that iron bar, the ill-made +catamaran was overset, and came all to pieces; when dashed by +broad-chested swells between their broken logs and the sharp teeth of +the reef, both adventurers perished before Hunilla’s eyes. + +Before Hunilla’s eyes they sank. The real woe of this event passed +before her sight as some sham tragedy on the stage. She was seated on a +rude bower among the withered thickets, crowning a lofty cliff, a +little back from the beach. The thickets were so disposed, that in +looking upon the sea at large she peered out from among the branches as +from the lattice of a high balcony. But upon the day we speak of here, +the better to watch the adventure of those two hearts she loved, +Hunilla had withdrawn the branches to one side, and held them so. They +formed an oval frame, through which the bluely boundless sea rolled +like a painted one. And there, the invisible painter painted to her +view the wave-tossed and disjointed raft, its once level logs +slantingly upheaved, as raking masts, and the four struggling arms +indistinguishable among them; and then all subsided into smooth-flowing +creamy waters, slowly drifting the splintered wreck; while first and +last, no sound of any sort was heard. Death in a silent picture; a +dream of the eye; such vanishing shapes as the mirage shows. + +So instant was the scene, so trance-like its mild pictorial effect, so +distant from her blasted bower and her common sense of things, that +Hunilla gazed and gazed, nor raised a finger or a wail. But as good to +sit thus dumb, in stupor staring on that dumb show, for all that +otherwise might be done. With half a mile of sea between, how could her +two enchanted arms aid those four fated ones? The distance long, the +time one sand. After the lightning is beheld, what fool shall stay the +thunder-bolt? Felipe’s body was washed ashore, but Truxill’s never +came; only his gay, braided hat of golden straw—that same sunflower +thing he waved to her, pushing from the strand—and now, to the last +gallant, it still saluted her. But Felipe’s body floated to the marge, +with one arm encirclingly outstretched. Lock-jawed in grim death, the +lover-husband softly clasped his bride, true to her even in death’s +dream. Ah, heaven, when man thus keeps his faith, wilt thou be +faithless who created the faithful one? But they cannot break faith who +never plighted it. + +It needs not to be said what nameless misery now wrapped the lonely +widow. In telling her own story she passed this almost entirely over, +simply recounting the event. Construe the comment of her features as +you might, from her mere words little would you have weened that +Hunilla was herself the heroine of her tale. But not thus did she +defraud us of our tears. All hearts bled that grief could be so brave. + +She but showed us her soul’s lid, and the strange ciphers thereon +engraved; all within, with pride’s timidity, was withheld. Yet was +there one exception. Holding out her small olive hand before her +captain, she said in mild and slowest Spanish, “Señor, I buried him;” +then paused, struggled as against the writhed coilings of a snake, and +cringing suddenly, leaped up, repeating in impassioned pain, “I buried +him, my life, my soul!” + +Doubtless, it was by half-unconscious, automatic motions of her hands, +that this heavy-hearted one performed the final office for Felipe, and +planted a rude cross of withered sticks—no green ones might be had—at +the head of that lonely grave, where rested now in lasting un-complaint +and quiet haven he whom untranquil seas had overthrown. + +But some dull sense of another body that should be interred, of another +cross that should hallow another grave—unmade as yet—some dull anxiety +and pain touching her undiscovered brother, now haunted the oppressed +Hunilla. Her hands fresh from the burial earth, she slowly went back to +the beach, with unshaped purposes wandering there, her spell-bound eye +bent upon the incessant waves. But they bore nothing to her but a +dirge, which maddened her to think that murderers should mourn. As time +went by, and these things came less dreamingly to her mind, the strong +persuasions of her Romish faith, which sets peculiar store by +consecrated urns, prompted her to resume in waking earnest that pious +search which had but been begun as in somnambulism. Day after day, week +after week, she trod the cindery beach, till at length a double motive +edged every eager glance. With equal longing she now looked for the +living and the dead; the brother and the captain; alike vanished, never +to return. Little accurate note of time had Hunilla taken under such +emotions as were hers, and little, outside herself, served for calendar +or dial. As to poor Crusoe in the self-same sea, no saint’s bell pealed +forth the lapse of week or month; each day went by unchallenged; no +chanticleer announced those sultry dawns, no lowing herds those +poisonous nights. All wonted and steadily recurring sounds, human, or +humanized by sweet fellowship with man, but one stirred that torrid +trance—the cry of dogs; save which naught but the rolling sea invaded +it, an all-pervading monotone; and to the widow that was the least +loved voice she could have heard. + +No wonder, that as her thoughts now wandered to the unreturning ship, +and were beaten back again, the hope against hope so struggled in her +soul, that at length she desperately said, “Not yet, not yet; my +foolish heart runs on too fast.” So she forced patience for some +further weeks. But to those whom earth’s sure indraft draws, patience +or impatience is still the same. + +Hunilla now sought to settle precisely in her mind, to an hour, how +long it was since the ship had sailed; and then, with the same +precision, how long a space remained to pass. But this proved +impossible. What present day or month it was she could not say. Time +was her labyrinth, in which Hunilla was entirely lost. + +And now follows— + +Against my own purposes a pause descends upon me here. One knows not +whether nature doth not impose some secrecy upon him who has been privy +to certain things. At least, it is to be doubted whether it be good to +blazon such. If some books are deemed most baneful and their sale +forbid, how, then, with deadlier facts, not dreams of doting men? Those +whom books will hurt will not be proof against events. Events, not +books, should be forbid. But in all things man sows upon the wind, +which bloweth just there whither it listeth; for ill or good, man +cannot know. Often ill comes from the good, as good from ill. + +When Hunilla— + +Dire sight it is to see some silken beast long dally with a golden +lizard ere she devour. More terrible, to see how feline Fate will +sometimes dally with a human soul, and by a nameless magic make it +repulse a sane despair with a hope which is but mad. Unwittingly I imp +this cat-like thing, sporting with the heart of him who reads; for if +he feel not he reads in vain. + +—“The ship sails this day, to-day,” at last said Hunilla to herself; +“this gives me certain time to stand on; without certainty I go mad. In +loose ignorance I have hoped and hoped; now in firm knowledge I will +but wait. Now I live and no longer perish in bewilderings. Holy Virgin, +aid me! Thou wilt waft back the ship. Oh, past length of weary +weeks—all to be dragged over—to buy the certainty of to-day, I freely +give ye, though I tear ye from me!” + +As mariners, tost in tempest on some desolate ledge, patch them a boat +out of the remnants of their vessel’s wreck, and launch it in the +self-same waves, see here Hunilla, this lone shipwrecked soul, out of +treachery invoking trust. Humanity, thou strong thing, I worship thee, +not in the laureled victor, but in this vanquished one. + +Truly Hunilla leaned upon a reed, a real one; no metaphor; a real +Eastern reed. A piece of hollow cane, drifted from unknown isles, and +found upon the beach, its once jagged ends rubbed smoothly even as by +sand-paper; its golden glazing gone. Long ground between the sea and +land, upper and nether stone, the unvarnished substance was filed bare, +and wore another polish now, one with itself, the polish of its agony. +Circular lines at intervals cut all round this surface, divided it into +six panels of unequal length. In the first were scored the days, each +tenth one marked by a longer and deeper notch; the second was scored +for the number of sea-fowl eggs for sustenance, picked out from the +rocky nests; the third, how many fish had been caught from the shore; +the fourth, how many small tortoises found inland; the fifth, how many +days of sun; the sixth, of clouds; which last, of the two, was the +greater one. Long night of busy numbering, misery’s mathematics, to +weary her too-wakeful soul to sleep; yet sleep for that was none. + +The panel of the days was deeply worn—the long tenth notches half +effaced, as alphabets of the blind. Ten thousand times the longing +widow had traced her finger over the bamboo—dull flute, which played, +on, gave no sound—as if counting birds flown by in air would hasten +tortoises creeping through the woods. + +After the one hundred and eightieth day no further mark was seen; that +last one was the faintest, as the first the deepest. + +“There were more days,” said our Captain; “many, many more; why did you +not go on and notch them, too, Hunilla?” + +“Señor, ask me not.” + +“And meantime, did no other vessel pass the isle?” + +“Nay, Señor;—but—” + +“You do not speak; but _what_, Hunilla?” + +“Ask me not, Señor.” + +“You saw ships pass, far away; you waved to them; they passed on;—was +that it, Hunilla?” + +“Señor, be it as you say.” + +Braced against her woe, Hunilla would not, durst not trust the weakness +of her tongue. Then when our Captain asked whether any whale-boats had— + +But no, I will not file this thing complete for scoffing souls to +quote, and call it firm proof upon their side. The half shall here +remain untold. Those two unnamed events which befell Hunilla on this +isle, let them abide between her and her God. In nature, as in law, it +may be libelous to speak some truths. + +Still, how it was that, although our vessel had lain three days +anchored nigh the isle, its one human tenant should not have discovered +us till just upon the point of sailing, never to revisit so lone and +far a spot, this needs explaining ere the sequel come. + +The place where the French captain had landed the little party was on +the further and opposite end of the isle. There, too, it was that they +had afterwards built their hut. Nor did the widow in her solitude +desert the spot where her loved ones had dwelt with her, and where the +dearest of the twain now slept his last long sleep, and all her plaints +awaked him not, and he of husbands the most faithful during life. + +Now, high, broken land rises between the opposite extremities of the +isle. A ship anchored at one side is invisible from the other. Neither +is the isle so small, but a considerable company might wander for days +through the wilderness of one side, and never be seen, or their halloos +heard, by any stranger holding aloof on the other. Hence Hunilla, who +naturally associated the possible coming of ships with her own part of +the isle, might to the end have remained quite ignorant of the presence +of our vessel, were it not for a mysterious presentiment, borne to her, +so our mariners averred, by this isle’s enchanted air. Nor did the +widow’s answer undo the thought. + +“How did you come to cross the isle this morning, then, Hunilla?” said +our Captain. + +“Señor, something came flitting by me. It touched my cheek, my heart, +Señor.” + +“What do you say, Hunilla?” + +“I have said, Señor, something came through the air.” + +It was a narrow chance. For when in crossing the isle Hunilla gained +the high land in the centre, she must then for the first have perceived +our masts, and also marked that their sails were being loosed, perhaps +even heard the echoing chorus of the windlass song. The strange ship +was about to sail, and she behind. With all haste she now descends the +height on the hither side, but soon loses sight of the ship among the +sunken jungles at the mountain’s base. She struggles on through the +withered branches, which seek at every step to bar her path, till she +comes to the isolated rock, still some way from the water. This she +climbs, to reassure herself. The ship is still in plainest sight. But +now, worn out with over tension, Hunilla all but faints; she fears to +step down from her giddy perch; she is fain to pause, there where she +is, and as a last resort catches the turban from her head, unfurls and +waves it over the jungles towards us. + +During the telling of her story the mariners formed a voiceless circle +round Hunilla and the Captain; and when at length the word was given to +man the fastest boat, and pull round to the isle’s thither side, to +bring away Hunilla’s chest and the tortoise-oil, such alacrity of both +cheery and sad obedience seldom before was seen. Little ado was made. +Already the anchor had been recommitted to the bottom, and the ship +swung calmly to it. + +But Hunilla insisted upon accompanying the boat as indispensable pilot +to her hidden hut. So being refreshed with the best the steward could +supply, she started with us. Nor did ever any wife of the most famous +admiral, in her husband’s barge, receive more silent reverence of +respect than poor Hunilla from this boat’s crew. + +Rounding many a vitreous cape and bluff, in two hours’ time we shot +inside the fatal reef; wound into a secret cove, looked up along a +green many-gabled lava wall, and saw the island’s solitary dwelling. + +It hung upon an impending cliff, sheltered on two sides by tangled +thickets, and half-screened from view in front by juttings of the rude +stairway, which climbed the precipice from the sea. Built of canes, it +was thatched with long, mildewed grass. It seemed an abandoned +hay-rick, whose haymakers were now no more. The roof inclined but one +way; the eaves coming to within two feet of the ground. And here was a +simple apparatus to collect the dews, or rather doubly-distilled and +finest winnowed rains, which, in mercy or in mockery, the night-skies +sometimes drop upon these blighted Encantadas. All along beneath the +eaves, a spotted sheet, quite weather-stained, was spread, pinned to +short, upright stakes, set in the shallow sand. A small clinker, thrown +into the cloth, weighed its middle down, thereby straining all moisture +into a calabash placed below. This vessel supplied each drop of water +ever drunk upon the isle by the Cholos. Hunilla told us the calabash, +would sometimes, but not often, be half filled overnight. It held six +quarts, perhaps. “But,” said she, “we were used to thirst. At sandy +Payta, where I live, no shower from heaven ever fell; all the water +there is brought on mules from the inland vales.” + +Tied among the thickets were some twenty moaning tortoises, supplying +Hunilla’s lonely larder; while hundreds of vast tableted black +bucklers, like displaced, shattered tomb-stones of dark slate, were +also scattered round. These were the skeleton backs of those great +tortoises from which Felipe and Truxill had made their precious oil. +Several large calabashes and two goodly kegs were filled with it. In a +pot near by were the caked crusts of a quantity which had been +permitted to evaporate. “They meant to have strained it off next day,” +said Hunilla, as she turned aside. + +I forgot to mention the most singular sight of all, though the first +that greeted us after landing. + +Some ten small, soft-haired, ringleted dogs, of a beautiful breed, +peculiar to Peru, set up a concert of glad welcomings when we gained +the beach, which was responded to by Hunilla. Some of these dogs had, +since her widowhood, been born upon the isle, the progeny of the two +brought from Payta. Owing to the jagged steeps and pitfalls, tortuous +thickets, sunken clefts and perilous intricacies of all sorts in the +interior, Hunilla, admonished by the loss of one favorite among them, +never allowed these delicate creatures to follow her in her occasional +birds’-nests climbs and other wanderings; so that, through long +habituation, they offered not to follow, when that morning she crossed +the land, and her own soul was then too full of other things to heed +their lingering behind. Yet, all along she had so clung to them, that, +besides what moisture they lapped up at early daybreak from the small +scoop-holes among the adjacent rocks, she had shared the dew of her +calabash among them; never laying by any considerable store against +those prolonged and utter droughts which, in some disastrous seasons, +warp these isles. + +Having pointed out, at our desire, what few things she would like +transported to the ship—her chest, the oil, not omitting the live +tortoises which she intended for a grateful present to our Captain—we +immediately set to work, carrying them to the boat down the long, +sloping stair of deeply-shadowed rock. While my comrades were thus +employed, I looked and Hunilla had disappeared. + +It was not curiosity alone, but, it seems to me, something different +mingled with it, which prompted me to drop my tortoise, and once more +gaze slowly around. I remembered the husband buried by Hunilla’s hands. +A narrow pathway led into a dense part of the thickets. Following it +through many mazes, I came out upon a small, round, open space, deeply +chambered there. + +The mound rose in the middle; a bare heap of finest sand, like that +unverdured heap found at the bottom of an hour-glass run out. At its +head stood the cross of withered sticks; the dry, peeled bark still +fraying from it; its transverse limb tied up with rope, and forlornly +adroop in the silent air. + +Hunilla was partly prostrate upon the grave; her dark head bowed, and +lost in her long, loosened Indian hair; her hands extended to the +cross-foot, with a little brass crucifix clasped between; a crucifix +worn featureless, like an ancient graven knocker long plied in vain. +She did not see me, and I made no noise, but slid aside, and left the +spot. + +A few moments ere all was ready for our going, she reappeared among us. +I looked into her eyes, but saw no tear. There was something which +seemed strangely haughty in her air, and yet it was the air of woe. A +Spanish and an Indian grief, which would not visibly lament. Pride’s +height in vain abased to proneness on the rack; nature’s pride subduing +nature’s torture. + +Like pages the small and silken dogs surrounded her, as she slowly +descended towards the beach. She caught the two most eager creatures in +her arms:—“Mia Teeta! Mia Tomoteeta!” and fondling them, inquired how +many could we take on board. + +The mate commanded the boat’s crew; not a hard-hearted man, but his way +of life had been such that in most things, even in the smallest, simple +utility was his leading motive. + +“We cannot take them all, Hunilla; our supplies are short; the winds +are unreliable; we may be a good many days going to Tombez. So take +those you have, Hunilla; but no more.” + +She was in the boat; the oarsmen, too, were seated; all save one, who +stood ready to push off and then spring himself. With the sagacity of +their race, the dogs now seemed aware that they were in the very +instant of being deserted upon a barren strand. The gunwales of the +boat were high; its prow—presented inland—was lifted; so owing to the +water, which they seemed instinctively to shun, the dogs could not well +leap into the little craft. But their busy paws hard scraped the prow, +as it had been some farmer’s door shutting them out from shelter in a +winter storm. A clamorous agony of alarm. They did not howl, or whine; +they all but spoke. + +“Push off! Give way!” cried the mate. The boat gave one heavy drag and +lurch, and next moment shot swiftly from the beach, turned on her heel, +and sped. The dogs ran howling along the water’s marge; now pausing to +gaze at the flying boat, then motioning as if to leap in chase, but +mysteriously withheld themselves; and again ran howling along the +beach. Had they been human beings, hardly would they have more vividly +inspired the sense of desolation. The oars were plied as confederate +feathers of two wings. No one spoke. I looked back upon the beach, and +then upon Hunilla, but her face was set in a stern dusky calm. The dogs +crouching in her lap vainly licked her rigid hands. She never looked +behind her: but sat motionless, till we turned a promontory of the +coast and lost all sights and sounds astern. She seemed as one who, +having experienced the sharpest of mortal pangs, was henceforth content +to have all lesser heartstrings riven, one by one. To Hunilla, pain +seemed so necessary, that pain in other beings, though by love and +sympathy made her own, was unrepiningly to be borne. A heart of +yearning in a frame of steel. A heart of earthly yearning, frozen by +the frost which falleth from the sky. + +The sequel is soon told. After a long passage, vexed by calms and +baffling winds, we made the little port of Tombez in Peru, there to +recruit the ship. Payta was not very distant. Our captain sold the +tortoise oil to a Tombez merchant; and adding to the silver a +contribution from all hands, gave it to our silent passenger, who knew +not what the mariners had done. + +The last seen of lone Hunilla she was passing into Payta town, riding +upon a small gray ass; and before her on the ass’s shoulders, she eyed +the jointed workings of the beast’s armorial cross. + + + + +SKETCH NINTH. +HOOD’S ISLE AND THE HERMIT OBERLUS. + +“That darkesome glen they enter, where they find +That cursed man low sitting on the ground, +Musing full sadly in his sullein mind; +His griesly lockes long gronen and unbound, +Disordered hong about his shoulders round, +And hid his face, through which his hollow eyne +Lookt deadly dull, and stared as astound; +His raw-bone cheekes, through penurie and pine, +Were shronke into the jawes, as he did never dine. +His garments nought but many ragged clouts, +With thornes together pind and patched reads, +The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts.” + + +Southeast of Crossman’s Isle lies Hood’s Isle, or McCain’s Beclouded +Isle; and upon its south side is a vitreous cove with a wide strand of +dark pounded black lava, called Black Beach, or Oberlus’s Landing. It +might fitly have been styled Charon’s. + +It received its name from a wild white creature who spent many years +here; in the person of a European bringing into this savage region +qualities more diabolical than are to be found among any of the +surrounding cannibals. + +About half a century ago, Oberlus deserted at the above-named island, +then, as now, a solitude. He built himself a den of lava and clinkers, +about a mile from the Landing, subsequently called after him, in a +vale, or expanded gulch, containing here and there among the rocks +about two acres of soil capable of rude cultivation; the only place on +the isle not too blasted for that purpose. Here he succeeded in raising +a sort of degenerate potatoes and pumpkins, which from time to time he +exchanged with needy whalemen passing, for spirits or dollars. + +His appearance, from all accounts, was that of the victim of some +malignant sorceress; he seemed to have drunk of Circe’s cup; +beast-like; rags insufficient to hide his nakedness; his befreckled +skin blistered by continual exposure to the sun; nose flat; countenance +contorted, heavy, earthy; hair and beard unshorn, profuse, and of fiery +red. He struck strangers much as if he were a volcanic creature thrown +up by the same convulsion which exploded into sight the isle. All +bepatched and coiled asleep in his lonely lava den among the mountains, +he looked, they say, as a heaped drift of withered leaves, torn from +autumn trees, and so left in some hidden nook by the whirling halt for +an instant of a fierce night-wind, which then ruthlessly sweeps on, +somewhere else to repeat the capricious act. It is also reported to +have been the strangest sight, this same Oberlus, of a sultry, cloudy +morning, hidden under his shocking old black tarpaulin hat, hoeing +potatoes among the lava. So warped and crooked was his strange nature, +that the very handle of his hoe seemed gradually to have shrunk and +twisted in his grasp, being a wretched bent stick, elbowed more like a +savage’s war-sickle than a civilized hoe-handle. It was his mysterious +custom upon a first encounter with a stranger ever to present his back; +possibly, because that was his better side, since it revealed the +least. If the encounter chanced in his garden, as it sometimes did—the +new-landed strangers going from the sea-side straight through the +gorge, to hunt up the queer green-grocer reported doing business +here—Oberlus for a time hoed on, unmindful of all greeting, jovial or +bland; as the curious stranger would turn to face him, the recluse, hoe +in hand, as diligently would avert himself; bowed over, and sullenly +revolving round his murphy hill. Thus far for hoeing. When planting, +his whole aspect and all his gestures were so malevolently and +uselessly sinister and secret, that he seemed rather in act of dropping +poison into wells than potatoes into soil. But among his lesser and +more harmless marvels was an idea he ever had, that his visitors came +equally as well led by longings to behold the mighty hermit Oberlus in +his royal state of solitude, as simply, to obtain potatoes, or find +whatever company might be upon a barren isle. It seems incredible that +such a being should possess such vanity; a misanthrope be conceited; +but he really had his notion; and upon the strength of it, often gave +himself amusing airs to captains. But after all, this is somewhat of a +piece with the well-known eccentricity of some convicts, proud of that +very hatefulness which makes them notorious. At other times, another +unaccountable whim would seize him, and he would long dodge advancing +strangers round the clinkered corners of his hut; sometimes like a +stealthy bear, he would slink through the withered thickets up the +mountains, and refuse to see the human face. + +Except his occasional visitors from the sea, for a long period, the +only companions of Oberlus were the crawling tortoises; and he seemed +more than degraded to their level, having no desires for a time beyond +theirs, unless it were for the stupor brought on by drunkenness. But +sufficiently debased as he appeared, there yet lurked in him, only +awaiting occasion for discovery, a still further proneness. Indeed, the +sole superiority of Oberlus over the tortoises was his possession of a +larger capacity of degradation; and along with that, something like an +intelligent will to it. Moreover, what is about to be revealed, perhaps +will show, that selfish ambition, or the love of rule for its own sake, +far from being the peculiar infirmity of noble minds, is shared by +beings which have no mind at all. No creatures are so selfishly +tyrannical as some brutes; as any one who has observed the tenants of +the pasture must occasionally have observed. + +“This island’s mine by Sycorax my mother,” said Oberlus to himself, +glaring round upon his haggard solitude. By some means, barter or +theft—for in those days ships at intervals still kept touching at his +Landing—he obtained an old musket, with a few charges of powder and +ball. Possessed of arms, he was stimulated to enterprise, as a tiger +that first feels the coming of its claws. The long habit of sole +dominion over every object round him, his almost unbroken solitude, his +never encountering humanity except on terms of misanthropic +independence, or mercantile craftiness, and even such encounters being +comparatively but rare; all this must have gradually nourished in him a +vast idea of his own importance, together with a pure animal sort of +scorn for all the rest of the universe. + +The unfortunate Creole, who enjoyed his brief term of royalty at +Charles’s Isle was perhaps in some degree influenced by not unworthy +motives; such as prompt other adventurous spirits to lead colonists +into distant regions and assume political preeminence over them. His +summary execution of many of his Peruvians is quite pardonable, +considering the desperate characters he had to deal with; while his +offering canine battle to the banded rebels seems under the +circumstances altogether just. But for this King Oberlus and what +shortly follows, no shade of palliation can be given. He acted out of +mere delight in tyranny and cruelty, by virtue of a quality in him +inherited from Sycorax his mother. Armed now with that shocking +blunderbuss, strong in the thought of being master of that horrid isle, +he panted for a chance to prove his potency upon the first specimen of +humanity which should fall unbefriended into his hands. + +Nor was he long without it. One day he spied a boat upon the beach, +with one man, a negro, standing by it. Some distance off was a ship, +and Oberlus immediately knew how matters stood. The vessel had put in +for wood, and the boat’s crew had gone into the thickets for it. From a +convenient spot he kept watch of the boat, till presently a straggling +company appeared loaded with billets. Throwing these on the beach, they +again went into the thickets, while the negro proceeded to load the +boat. + +Oberlus now makes all haste and accosts the negro, who, aghast at +seeing any living being inhabiting such a solitude, and especially so +horrific a one, immediately falls into a panic, not at all lessened by +the ursine suavity of Oberlus, who begs the favor of assisting him in +his labors. The negro stands with several billets on his shoulder, in +act of shouldering others; and Oberlus, with a short cord concealed in +his bosom, kindly proceeds to lift those other billets to their place. +In so doing, he persists in keeping behind the negro, who, rightly +suspicious of this, in vain dodges about to gain the front of Oberlus; +but Oberlus dodges also; till at last, weary of this bootless attempt +at treachery, or fearful of being surprised by the remainder of the +party, Oberlus runs off a little space to a bush, and fetching his +blunderbuss, savagely commands the negro to desist work and follow him. +He refuses. Whereupon, presenting his piece, Oberlus snaps at him. +Luckily the blunderbuss misses fire; but by this time, frightened out +of his wits, the negro, upon a second intrepid summons, drops his +billets, surrenders at discretion, and follows on. By a narrow defile +familiar to him, Oberlus speedily removes out of sight of the water. + +On their way up the mountains, he exultingly informs the negro, that +henceforth he is to work for him, and be his slave, and that his +treatment would entirely depend on his future conduct. But Oberlus, +deceived by the first impulsive cowardice of the black, in an evil +moment slackens his vigilance. Passing through a narrow way, and +perceiving his leader quite off his guard, the negro, a powerful +fellow, suddenly grasps him in his arms, throws him down, wrests his +musketoon from him, ties his hands with the monster’s own cord, +shoulders him, and returns with him down to the boat. When the rest of +the party arrive, Oberlus is carried on board the ship. This proved an +Englishman, and a smuggler; a sort of craft not apt to be +over-charitable. Oberlus is severely whipped, then handcuffed, taken +ashore, and compelled to make known his habitation and produce his +property. His potatoes, pumpkins, and tortoises, with a pile of dollars +he had hoarded from his mercantile operations were secured on the spot. +But while the too vindictive smugglers were busy destroying his hut and +garden, Oberlus makes his escape into the mountains, and conceals +himself there in impenetrable recesses, only known to himself, till the +ship sails, when he ventures back, and by means of an old file which he +sticks into a tree, contrives to free himself from his handcuffs. + +Brooding among the ruins of his hut, and the desolate clinkers and +extinct volcanoes of this outcast isle, the insulted misanthrope now +meditates a signal revenge upon humanity, but conceals his purposes. +Vessels still touch the Landing at times; and by-and-by Oberlus is +enabled to supply them with some vegetables. + +Warned by his former failure in kidnapping strangers, he now pursues a +quite different plan. When seamen come ashore, he makes up to them like +a free-and-easy comrade, invites them to his hut, and with whatever +affability his red-haired grimness may assume, entreats them to drink +his liquor and be merry. But his guests need little pressing; and so, +soon as rendered insensible, are tied hand and foot, and pitched among +the clinkers, are there concealed till the ship departs, when, finding +themselves entirely dependent upon Oberlus, alarmed at his changed +demeanor, his savage threats, and above all, that shocking blunderbuss, +they willingly enlist under him, becoming his humble slaves, and +Oberlus the most incredible of tyrants. So much so, that two or three +perish beneath his initiating process. He sets the remainder—four of +them—to breaking the caked soil; transporting upon their backs loads of +loamy earth, scooped up in moist clefts among the mountains; keeps them +on the roughest fare; presents his piece at the slightest hint of +insurrection; and in all respects converts them into reptiles at his +feet—plebeian garter-snakes to this Lord Anaconda. + +At last, Oberlus contrives to stock his arsenal with four rusty +cutlasses, and an added supply of powder and ball intended for his +blunderbuss. Remitting in good part the labor of his slaves, he now +approves himself a man, or rather devil, of great abilities in the way +of cajoling or coercing others into acquiescence with his own ulterior +designs, however at first abhorrent to them. But indeed, prepared for +almost any eventual evil by their previous lawless life, as a sort of +ranging Cow-Boys of the sea, which had dissolved within them the whole +moral man, so that they were ready to concrete in the first offered +mould of baseness now; rotted down from manhood by their hopeless +misery on the isle; wonted to cringe in all things to their lord, +himself the worst of slaves; these wretches were now become wholly +corrupted to his hands. He used them as creatures of an inferior race; +in short, he gaffles his four animals, and makes murderers of them; out +of cowards fitly manufacturing bravos. + +Now, sword or dagger, human arms are but artificial claws and fangs, +tied on like false spurs to the fighting cock. So, we repeat, Oberlus, +czar of the isle, gaffles his four subjects; that is, with intent of +glory, puts four rusty cutlasses into their hands. Like any other +autocrat, he had a noble army now. + +It might be thought a servile war would hereupon ensue. Arms in the +hands of trodden slaves? how indiscreet of Emperor Oberlus! Nay, they +had but cutlasses—sad old scythes enough—he a blunderbuss, which by its +blind scatterings of all sorts of boulders, clinkers, and other scoria +would annihilate all four mutineers, like four pigeons at one shot. +Besides, at first he did not sleep in his accustomed hut; every lurid +sunset, for a time, he might have been seen wending his way among the +riven mountains, there to secrete himself till dawn in some sulphurous +pitfall, undiscoverable to his gang; but finding this at last too +troublesome, he now each evening tied his slaves hand and foot, hid the +cutlasses, and thrusting them into his barracks, shut to the door, and +lying down before it, beneath a rude shed lately added, slept out the +night, blunderbuss in hand. + +It is supposed that not content with daily parading over a cindery +solitude at the head of his fine army, Oberlus now meditated the most +active mischief; his probable object being to surprise some passing +ship touching at his dominions, massacre the crew, and run away with +her to parts unknown. While these plans were simmering in his head, two +ships touch in company at the isle, on the opposite side to his; when +his designs undergo a sudden change. + +The ships are in want of vegetables, which Oberlus promises in great +abundance, provided they send their boats round to his landing, so that +the crews may bring the vegetables from his garden; informing the two +captains, at the same time, that his rascals—slaves and soldiers—had +become so abominably lazy and good-for-nothing of late, that he could +not make them work by ordinary inducements, and did not have the heart +to be severe with them. + +The arrangement was agreed to, and the boats were sent and hauled upon +the beach. The crews went to the lava hut; but to their surprise nobody +was there. After waiting till their patience was exhausted, they +returned to the shore, when lo, some stranger—not the Good Samaritan +either—seems to have very recently passed that way. Three of the boats +were broken in a thousand pieces, and the fourth was missing. By hard +toil over the mountains and through the clinkers, some of the strangers +succeeded in returning to that side of the isle where the ships lay, +when fresh boats are sent to the relief of the rest of the hapless +party. + +However amazed at the treachery of Oberlus, the two captains, afraid of +new and still more mysterious atrocities—and indeed, half imputing such +strange events to the enchantments associated with these isles—perceive +no security but in instant flight; leaving Oberlus and his army in +quiet possession of the stolen boat. + +On the eve of sailing they put a letter in a keg, giving the Pacific +Ocean intelligence of the affair, and moored the keg in the bay. Some +time subsequent, the keg was opened by another captain chancing to +anchor there, but not until after he had dispatched a boat round to +Oberlus’s Landing. As may be readily surmised, he felt no little +inquietude till the boat’s return: when another letter was handed him, +giving Oberlus’s version of the affair. This precious document had been +found pinned half-mildewed to the clinker wall of the sulphurous and +deserted hut. It ran as follows: showing that Oberlus was at least an +accomplished writer, and no mere boor; and what is more, was capable of +the most tristful eloquence. + +“Sir: I am the most unfortunate ill-treated gentleman that lives. I am +a patriot, exiled from my country by the cruel hand of tyranny. + +“Banished to these Enchanted Isles, I have again and again besought +captains of ships to sell me a boat, but always have been refused, +though I offered the handsomest prices in Mexican dollars. At length an +opportunity presented of possessing myself of one, and I did not let it +slip. + +“I have been long endeavoring, by hard labor and much solitary +suffering, to accumulate something to make myself comfortable in a +virtuous though unhappy old age; but at various times have been robbed +and beaten by men professing to be Christians. + +“To-day I sail from the Enchanted group in the good boat Charity bound +to the Feejee Isles. + +“FATHERLESS OBERLUS. + + +“_P.S._—Behind the clinkers, nigh the oven, you will find the old fowl. +Do not kill it; be patient; I leave it setting; if it shall have any +chicks, I hereby bequeath them to you, whoever you may be. But don’t +count your chicks before they are hatched.” + +The fowl proved a starveling rooster, reduced to a sitting posture by +sheer debility. + +Oberlus declares that he was bound to the Feejee Isles; but this was +only to throw pursuers on a false scent. For, after a long time, he +arrived, alone in his open boat, at Guayaquil. As his miscreants were +never again beheld on Hood’s Isle, it is supposed, either that they +perished for want of water on the passage to Guayaquil, or, what is +quite as probable, were thrown overboard by Oberlus, when he found the +water growing scarce. + +From Guayaquil Oberlus proceeded to Payta; and there, with that +nameless witchery peculiar to some of the ugliest animals, wound +himself into the affections of a tawny damsel; prevailing upon her to +accompany him back to his Enchanted Isle; which doubtless he painted as +a Paradise of flowers, not a Tartarus of clinkers. + +But unfortunately for the colonization of Hood’s Isle with a choice +variety of animated nature, the extraordinary and devilish aspect of +Oberlus made him to be regarded in Payta as a highly suspicious +character. So that being found concealed one night, with matches in his +pocket, under the hull of a small vessel just ready to be launched, he +was seized and thrown into jail. + +The jails in most South American towns are generally of the least +wholesome sort. Built of huge cakes of sun-burnt brick, and containing +but one room, without windows or yard, and but one door heavily grated +with wooden bars, they present both within and without the grimmest +aspect. As public edifices they conspicuously stand upon the hot and +dusty Plaza, offering to view, through the gratings, their villainous +and hopeless inmates, burrowing in all sorts of tragic squalor. And +here, for a long time, Oberlus was seen; the central figure of a +mongrel and assassin band; a creature whom it is religion to detest, +since it is philanthropy to hate a misanthrope. + +_Note_.—They who may be disposed to question the possibility of the +character above depicted, are referred to the 2d vol. of Porter’s +Voyage into the Pacific, where they will recognize many sentences, for +expedition’s sake derived verbatim from thence, and incorporated here; +the main difference—save a few passing reflections—between the two +accounts being, that the present writer has added to Porter’s facts +accessory ones picked up in the Pacific from reliable sources; and +where facts conflict, has naturally preferred his own authorities to +Porter’s. As, for instance, _his_ authorities place Oberlus on Hood’s +Isle: Porter’s, on Charles’s Isle. The letter found in the hut is also +somewhat different; for while at the Encantadas he was informed that, +not only did it evince a certain clerkliness, but was full of the +strangest satiric effrontery which does not adequately appear in +Porter’s version. I accordingly altered it to suit the general +character of its author. + + + + +SKETCH TENTH. +RUNAWAYS, CASTAWAYS, SOLITARIES, GRAVE-STONES, ETC. + +“And all about old stocks and stubs of trees, + Whereon nor fruit nor leaf was ever seen, +Did hang upon ragged knotty knees, + On which had many wretches hanged been.” + + +Some relics of the hut of Oberlus partially remain to this day at the +head of the clinkered valley. Nor does the stranger, wandering among +other of the Enchanted Isles, fail to stumble upon still other solitary +abodes, long abandoned to the tortoise and the lizard. Probably few +parts of earth have, in modern times, sheltered so many solitaries. The +reason is, that these isles are situated in a distant sea, and the +vessels which occasionally visit them are mostly all whalers, or ships +bound on dreary and protracted voyages, exempting them in a good degree +from both the oversight and the memory of human law. Such is the +character of some commanders and some seamen, that under these untoward +circumstances, it is quite impossible but that scenes of unpleasantness +and discord should occur between them. A sullen hatred of the tyrannic +ship will seize the sailor, and he gladly exchanges it for isles, +which, though blighted as by a continual sirocco and burning breeze, +still offer him, in their labyrinthine interior, a retreat beyond the +possibility of capture. To flee the ship in any Peruvian or Chilian +port, even the smallest and most rustical, is not unattended with great +risk of apprehension, not to speak of jaguars. A reward of five pesos +sends fifty dastardly Spaniards into the wood, who, with long knives, +scour them day and night in eager hopes of securing their prey. Neither +is it, in general, much easier to escape pursuit at the isles of +Polynesia. Those of them which have felt a civilizing influence present +the same difficulty to the runaway with the Peruvian ports, the +advanced natives being quite as mercenary and keen of knife and scent +as the retrograde Spaniards; while, owing to the bad odor in which all +Europeans lie, in the minds of aboriginal savages who have chanced to +hear aught of them, to desert the ship among primitive Polynesians, is, +in most cases, a hope not unforlorn. Hence the Enchanted Isles become +the voluntary tarrying places of all sorts of refugees; some of whom +too sadly experience the fact, that flight from tyranny does not of +itself insure a safe asylum, far less a happy home. + +Moreover, it has not seldom happened that hermits have been made upon +the isles by the accidents incident to tortoise-hunting. The interior +of most of them is tangled and difficult of passage beyond description; +the air is sultry and stifling; an intolerable thirst is provoked, for +which no running stream offers its kind relief. In a few hours, under +an equatorial sun, reduced by these causes to entire exhaustion, woe +betide the straggler at the Enchanted Isles! Their extent is such as to +forbid an adequate search, unless weeks are devoted to it. The +impatient ship waits a day or two; when, the missing man remaining +undiscovered, up goes a stake on the beach, with a letter of regret, +and a keg of crackers and another of water tied to it, and away sails +the craft. + +Nor have there been wanting instances where the inhumanity of some +captains has led them to wreak a secure revenge upon seamen who have +given their caprice or pride some singular offense. Thrust ashore upon +the scorching marl, such mariners are abandoned to perish outright, +unless by solitary labors they succeed in discovering some precious +dribblets of moisture oozing from a rock or stagnant in a mountain +pool. + +I was well acquainted with a man, who, lost upon the Isle of +Narborough, was brought to such extremes by thirst, that at last he +only saved his life by taking that of another being. A large hair-seal +came upon the beach. He rushed upon it, stabbed it in the neck, and +then throwing himself upon the panting body quaffed at the living +wound; the palpitations of the creature’s dying heart injected life +into the drinker. + +Another seaman, thrust ashore in a boat upon an isle at which no ship +ever touched, owing to its peculiar sterility and the shoals about it, +and from which all other parts of the group were hidden—this man, +feeling that it was sure death to remain there, and that nothing worse +than death menaced him in quitting it, killed seals, and inflating +their skins, made a float, upon which he transported himself to +Charles’s Island, and joined the republic there. + +But men, not endowed with courage equal to such desperate attempts, +find their only resource in forthwith seeking some watering-place, +however precarious or scanty; building a hut; catching tortoises and +birds; and in all respects preparing for a hermit life, till tide or +time, or a passing ship arrives to float them off. + +At the foot of precipices on many of the isles, small rude basins in +the rocks are found, partly filled with rotted rubbish or vegetable +decay, or overgrown with thickets, and sometimes a little moist; which, +upon examination, reveal plain tokens of artificial instruments +employed in hollowing them out, by some poor castaway or still more +miserable runaway. These basins are made in places where it was +supposed some scanty drops of dew might exude into them from the upper +crevices. + +The relics of hermitages and stone basins are not the only signs of +vanishing humanity to be found upon the isles. And, curious to say, +that spot which of all others in settled communities is most animated, +at the Enchanted Isles presents the most dreary of aspects. And though +it may seem very strange to talk of post-offices in this barren region, +yet post-offices are occasionally to be found there. They consist of a +stake and a bottle. The letters being not only sealed, but corked. They +are generally deposited by captains of Nantucketers for the benefit of +passing fishermen, and contain statements as to what luck they had in +whaling or tortoise-hunting. Frequently, however, long months and +months, whole years glide by and no applicant appears. The stake rots +and falls, presenting no very exhilarating object. + +If now it be added that grave-stones, or rather grave-boards, are also +discovered upon some of the isles, the picture will be complete. + +Upon the beach of James’s Isle, for many years, was to be seen a rude +finger-post, pointing inland. And, perhaps, taking it for some signal +of possible hospitality in this otherwise desolate spot—some good +hermit living there with his maple dish—the stranger would follow on in +the path thus indicated, till at last he would come out in a noiseless +nook, and find his only welcome, a dead man—his sole greeting the +inscription over a grave. Here, in 1813, fell, in a daybreak duel, a +lieutenant of the U.S. frigate Essex, aged twenty-one: attaining his +majority in death. + +It is but fit that, like those old monastic institutions of Europe, +whose inmates go not out of their own walls to be inurned, but are +entombed there where they die, the Encantadas, too, should bury their +own dead, even as the great general monastery of earth does hers. + +It is known that burial in the ocean is a pure necessity of sea-faring +life, and that it is only done when land is far astern, and not clearly +visible from the bow. Hence, to vessels cruising in the vicinity of the +Enchanted Isles, they afford a convenient Potter’s Field. The interment +over, some good-natured forecastle poet and artist seizes his +paint-brush, and inscribes a doggerel epitaph. When, after a long lapse +of time, other good-natured seamen chance to come upon the spot, they +usually make a table of the mound, and quaff a friendly can to the poor +soul’s repose. + +As a specimen of these epitaphs, take the following, found in a bleak +gorge of Chatham Isle:— + +“Oh, Brother Jack, as you pass by, +As you are now, so once was I. +Just so game, and just so gay, +But now, alack, they’ve stopped my pay. +No more I peep out of my blinkers, +Here I be—tucked in with clinkers!” + + + + +THE BELL-TOWER. + + +In the south of Europe, nigh a once frescoed capital, now with dank +mould cankering its bloom, central in a plain, stands what, at +distance, seems the black mossed stump of some immeasurable pine, +fallen, in forgotten days, with Anak and the Titan. + +As all along where the pine tree falls, its dissolution leaves a mossy +mound—last-flung shadow of the perished trunk; never lengthening, never +lessening; unsubject to the fleet falsities of the sun; shade +immutable, and true gauge which cometh by prostration—so westward from +what seems the stump, one steadfast spear of lichened ruin veins the +plain. + +From that tree-top, what birded chimes of silver throats had rung. A +stone pine; a metallic aviary in its crown: the Bell-Tower, built by +the great mechanician, the unblest foundling, Bannadonna. + +Like Babel’s, its base was laid in a high hour of renovated earth, +following the second deluge, when the waters of the Dark Ages had dried +up, and once more the green appeared. No wonder that, after so long and +deep submersion, the jubilant expectation of the race should, as with +Noah’s sons, soar into Shinar aspiration. + +In firm resolve, no man in Europe at that period went beyond +Bannadonna. Enriched through commerce with the Levant, the state in +which he lived voted to have the noblest Bell-Tower in Italy. His +repute assigned him to be architect. + +Stone by stone, month by month, the tower rose. Higher, higher; +snail-like in pace, but torch or rocket in its pride. + +After the masons would depart, the builder, standing alone upon its +ever-ascending summit, at close of every day, saw that he overtopped +still higher walls and trees. He would tarry till a late hour there, +wrapped in schemes of other and still loftier piles. Those who of +saints’ days thronged the spot—hanging to the rude poles of +scaffolding, like sailors on yards, or bees on boughs, unmindful of +lime and dust, and falling chips of stone—their homage not the less +inspirited him to self-esteem. + +At length the holiday of the Tower came. To the sound of viols, the +climax-stone slowly rose in air, and, amid the firing of ordnance, was +laid by Bannadonna’s hands upon the final course. Then mounting it, he +stood erect, alone, with folded arms, gazing upon the white summits of +blue inland Alps, and whiter crests of bluer Alps off-shore—sights +invisible from the plain. Invisible, too, from thence was that eye he +turned below, when, like the cannon booms, came up to him the people’s +combustions of applause. + +That which stirred them so was, seeing with what serenity the builder +stood three hundred feet in air, upon an unrailed perch. This none but +he durst do. But his periodic standing upon the pile, in each stage of +its growth—such discipline had its last result. + +Little remained now but the bells. These, in all respects, must +correspond with their receptacle. + +The minor ones were prosperously cast. A highly enriched one followed, +of a singular make, intended for suspension in a manner before unknown. +The purpose of this bell, its rotary motion, and connection with the +clock-work, also executed at the time, will, in the sequel, receive +mention. + +In the one erection, bell-tower and clock-tower were united, though, +before that period, such structures had commonly been built distinct; +as the Campanile and Torre del ’Orologio of St. Mark to this day +attest. + +But it was upon the great state-bell that the founder lavished his more +daring skill. In vain did some of the less elated magistrates here +caution him; saying that though truly the tower was Titanic, yet limit +should be set to the dependent weight of its swaying masses. But +undeterred, he prepared his mammoth mould, dented with mythological +devices; kindled his fires of balsamic firs; melted his tin and copper, +and, throwing in much plate, contributed by the public spirit of the +nobles, let loose the tide. + +The unleashed metals bayed like hounds. The workmen shrunk. Through +their fright, fatal harm to the bell was dreaded. Fearless as Shadrach, +Bannadonna, rushing through the glow, smote the chief culprit with his +ponderous ladle. From the smitten part, a splinter was dashed into the +seething mass, and at once was melted in. + +Next day a portion of the work was heedfully uncovered. All seemed +right. Upon the third morning, with equal satisfaction, it was bared +still lower. At length, like some old Theban king, the whole cooled +casting was disinterred. All was fair except in one strange spot. But +as he suffered no one to attend him in these inspections, he concealed +the blemish by some preparation which none knew better to devise. + +The casting of such a mass was deemed no small triumph for the caster; +one, too, in which the state might not scorn to share. The homicide was +overlooked. By the charitable that deed was but imputed to sudden +transports of esthetic passion, not to any flagitious quality. A kick +from an Arabian charger; not sign of vice, but blood. + +His felony remitted by the judge, absolution given him by the priest, +what more could even a sickly conscience have desired. + +Honoring the tower and its builder with another holiday, the republic +witnessed the hoisting of the bells and clock-work amid shows and pomps +superior to the former. + +Some months of more than usual solitude on Bannadonna’s part ensued. It +was not unknown that he was engaged upon something for the belfry, +intended to complete it, and surpass all that had gone before. Most +people imagined that the design would involve a casting like the bells. +But those who thought they had some further insight, would shake their +heads, with hints, that not for nothing did the mechanician keep so +secret. Meantime, his seclusion failed not to invest his work with more +or less of that sort of mystery pertaining to the forbidden. + +Ere long he had a heavy object hoisted to the belfry, wrapped in a dark +sack or cloak—a procedure sometimes had in the case of an elaborate +piece of sculpture, or statue, which, being intended to grace the front +of a new edifice, the architect does not desire exposed to critical +eyes, till set up, finished, in its appointed place. Such was the +impression now. But, as the object rose, a statuary present observed, +or thought he did, that it was not entirely rigid, but was, in a +manner, pliant. At last, when the hidden thing had attained its final +height, and, obscurely seen from below, seemed almost of itself to step +into the belfry, as if with little assistance from the crane, a shrewd +old blacksmith present ventured the suspicion that it was but a living +man. This surmise was thought a foolish one, while the general interest +failed not to augment. + +Not without demur from Bannadonna, the chief-magistrate of the town, +with an associate—both elderly men—followed what seemed the image up +the tower. But, arrived at the belfry, they had little recompense. +Plausibly entrenching himself behind the conceded mysteries of his art, +the mechanician withheld present explanation. The magistrates glanced +toward the cloaked object, which, to their surprise, seemed now to have +changed its attitude, or else had before been more perplexingly +concealed by the violent muffling action of the wind without. It seemed +now seated upon some sort of frame, or chair, contained within the +domino. They observed that nigh the top, in a sort of square, the web +of the cloth, either from accident or design, had its warp partly +withdrawn, and the cross threads plucked out here and there, so as to +form a sort of woven grating. Whether it were the low wind or no, +stealing through the stone lattice-work, or only their own perturbed +imaginations, is uncertain, but they thought they discerned a slight +sort of fitful, spring-like motion, in the domino. Nothing, however +incidental or insignificant, escaped their uneasy eyes. Among other +things, they pried out, in a corner, an earthen cup, partly corroded +and partly encrusted, and one whispered to the other, that this cup was +just such a one as might, in mockery, be offered to the lips of some +brazen statue, or, perhaps, still worse. + +But, being questioned, the mechanician said, that the cup was simply +used in his founder’s business, and described the purpose; in short, a +cup to test the condition of metals in fusion. He added, that it had +got into the belfry by the merest chance. + +Again, and again, they gazed at the domino, as at some suspicious +incognito at a Venetian mask. All sorts of vague apprehensions stirred +them. They even dreaded lest, when they should descend, the +mechanician, though without a flesh and blood companion, for all that, +would not be left alone. + +Affecting some merriment at their disquietude, he begged to relieve +them, by extending a coarse sheet of workman’s canvas between them and +the object. + +Meantime he sought to interest them in his other work; nor, now that +the domino was out of sight, did they long remain insensible to the +artistic wonders lying round them; wonders hitherto beheld but in their +unfinished state; because, since hoisting the bells, none but the +caster had entered within the belfry. It was one trait of his, that, +even in details, he would not let another do what he could, without too +great loss of time, accomplish for himself. So, for several preceding +weeks, whatever hours were unemployed in his secret design, had been +devoted to elaborating the figures on the bells. + +The clock-bell, in particular, now drew attention. Under a patient +chisel, the latent beauty of its enrichments, before obscured by the +cloudings incident to casting, that beauty in its shyest grace, was now +revealed. Round and round the bell, twelve figures of gay girls, +garlanded, hand-in-hand, danced in a choral ring—the embodied hours. + +“Bannadonna,” said the chief, “this bell excels all else. No added +touch could here improve. Hark!” hearing a sound, “was that the wind?” + +“The wind, Excellenza,” was the light response. “But the figures, they +are not yet without their faults. They need some touches yet. When +those are given, and the—block yonder,” pointing towards the canvas +screen, “when Haman there, as I merrily call him,—him? _it_, I +mean—when Haman is fixed on this, his lofty tree, then, gentlemen, will +I be most happy to receive you here again.” + +The equivocal reference to the object caused some return of +restlessness. However, on their part, the visitors forbore further +allusion to it, unwilling, perhaps, to let the foundling see how easily +it lay within his plebeian art to stir the placid dignity of nobles. + +“Well, Bannadonna,” said the chief, “how long ere you are ready to set +the clock going, so that the hour shall be sounded? Our interest in +you, not less than in the work itself, makes us anxious to be assured +of your success. The people, too,—why, they are shouting now. Say the +exact hour when you will be ready.” + +“To-morrow, Excellenza, if you listen for it,—or should you not, all +the same—strange music will be heard. The stroke of one shall be the +first from yonder bell,” pointing to the bell adorned with girls and +garlands, “that stroke shall fall there, where the hand of Una clasps +Dua’s. The stroke of one shall sever that loved clasp. To-morrow, then, +at one o’clock, as struck here, precisely here,” advancing and placing +his finger upon the clasp, “the poor mechanic will be most happy once +more to give you liege audience, in this his littered shop. Farewell +till then, illustrious magnificoes, and hark ye for your vassal’s +stroke.” + +His still, Vulcanic face hiding its burning brightness like a forge, he +moved with ostentatious deference towards the scuttle, as if so far to +escort their exit. But the junior magistrate, a kind-hearted man, +troubled at what seemed to him a certain sardonical disdain, lurking +beneath the foundling’s humble mien, and in Christian sympathy more +distressed at it on his account than on his own, dimly surmising what +might be the final fate of such a cynic solitaire, nor perhaps +uninfluenced by the general strangeness of surrounding things, this +good magistrate had glanced sadly, sideways from the speaker, and +thereupon his foreboding eye had started at the expression of the +unchanging face of the Hour Una. + +“How is this, Bannadonna?” he lowly asked, “Una looks unlike her +sisters.” + +“In Christ’s name, Bannadonna,” impulsively broke in the chief, his +attention, for the first attracted to the figure, by his associate’s +remark, “Una’s face looks just like that of Deborah, the prophetess, as +painted by the Florentine, Del Fonca.” + +“Surely, Bannadonna,” lowly resumed the milder magistrate, “you meant +the twelve should wear the same jocundly abandoned air. But see, the +smile of Una seems but a fatal one. ’Tis different.” + +While his mild associate was speaking, the chief glanced, inquiringly, +from him to the caster, as if anxious to mark how the discrepancy would +be accounted for. As the chief stood, his advanced foot was on the +scuttle’s curb. + +Bannadonna spoke: + +“Excellenza, now that, following your keener eye, I glance upon the +face of Una, I do, indeed perceive some little variance. But look all +round the bell, and you will find no two faces entirely correspond. +Because there is a law in art—but the cold wind is rising more; these +lattices are but a poor defense. Suffer me, magnificoes, to conduct +you, at least, partly on your way. Those in whose well-being there is a +public stake, should be heedfully attended.” + +“Touching the look of Una, you were saying, Bannadonna, that there was +a certain law in art,” observed the chief, as the three now descended +the stone shaft, “pray, tell me, then—.” + +“Pardon; another time, Excellenza;—the tower is damp.” + +“Nay, I must rest, and hear it now. Here,—here is a wide landing, and +through this leeward slit, no wind, but ample light. Tell us of your +law; and at large.” + +“Since, Excellenza, you insist, know that there is a law in art, which +bars the possibility of duplicates. Some years ago, you may remember, I +graved a small seal for your republic, bearing, for its chief device, +the head of your own ancestor, its illustrious founder. It becoming +necessary, for the customs’ use, to have innumerable impressions for +bales and boxes, I graved an entire plate, containing one hundred of +the seals. Now, though, indeed, my object was to have those hundred +heads identical, and though, I dare say, people think them; so, yet, +upon closely scanning an uncut impression from the plate, no two of +those five-score faces, side by side, will be found alike. Gravity is +the air of all; but, diversified in all. In some, benevolent; in some, +ambiguous; in two or three, to a close scrutiny, all but incipiently +malign, the variation of less than a hair’s breadth in the linear +shadings round the mouth sufficing to all this. Now, Excellenza, +transmute that general gravity into joyousness, and subject it to +twelve of those variations I have described, and tell me, will you not +have my hours here, and Una one of them? But I like—.” + +“Hark! is that—a footfall above?” + +“Mortar, Excellenza; sometimes it drops to the belfry-floor from the +arch where the stonework was left undressed. I must have it seen to. As +I was about to say: for one, I like this law forbidding duplicates. It +evokes fine personalities. Yes, Excellenza, that strange, and—to +you—uncertain smile, and those fore-looking eyes of Una, suit +Bannadonna very well.” + +“Hark!—sure we left no soul above?” + +“No soul, Excellenza; rest assured, no _soul_—Again the mortar.” + +“It fell not while we were there.” + +“Ah, in your presence, it better knew its place, Excellenza,” blandly +bowed Bannadonna. + +“But, Una,” said the milder magistrate, “she seemed intently gazing on +you; one would have almost sworn that she picked you out from among us +three.” + +“If she did, possibly, it might have been her finer apprehension, +Excellenza.” + +“How, Bannadonna? I do not understand you.” + +“No consequence, no consequence, Excellenza—but the shifted wind is +blowing through the slit. Suffer me to escort you on; and then, pardon, +but the toiler must to his tools.” + +“It may be foolish, Signor,” said the milder magistrate, as, from the +third landing, the two now went down unescorted, “but, somehow, our +great mechanician moves me strangely. Why, just now, when he so +superciliously replied, his walk seemed Sisera’s, God’s vain foe, in +Del Fonca’s painting. And that young, sculptured Deborah, too. Ay, and +that—.” + +“Tush, tush, Signor!” returned the chief. “A passing whim. +Deborah?—Where’s Jael, pray?” + +“Ah,” said the other, as they now stepped upon the sod, “Ah, Signor, I +see you leave your fears behind you with the chill and gloom; but mine, +even in this sunny air, remain. Hark!” + +It was a sound from just within the tower door, whence they had +emerged. Turning, they saw it closed. + +“He has slipped down and barred us out,” smiled the chief; “but it is +his custom.” + +Proclamation was now made, that the next day, at one hour after +meridian, the clock would strike, and—thanks to the mechanician’s +powerful art—with unusual accompaniments. But what those should be, +none as yet could say. The announcement was received with cheers. + +By the looser sort, who encamped about the tower all night, lights were +seen gleaming through the topmost blind-work, only disappearing with +the morning sun. Strange sounds, too, were heard, or were thought to +be, by those whom anxious watching might not have left mentally +undisturbed—sounds, not only of some ringing implement, but also—so +they said—half-suppressed screams and plainings, such as might have +issued from some ghostly engine, overplied. + +Slowly the day drew on; part of the concourse chasing the weary time +with songs and games, till, at last, the great blurred sun rolled, like +a football, against the plain. + +At noon, the nobility and principal citizens came from the town in +cavalcade, a guard of soldiers, also, with music, the more to honor the +occasion. + +Only one hour more. Impatience grew. Watches were held in hands of +feverish men, who stood, now scrutinizing their small dial-plates, and +then, with neck thrown back, gazing toward the belfry, as if the eye +might foretell that which could only be made sensible to the ear; for, +as yet, there was no dial to the tower-clock. + +The hour hands of a thousand watches now verged within a hair’s breadth +of the figure 1. A silence, as of the expectation of some Shiloh, +pervaded the swarming plain. Suddenly a dull, mangled sound—naught +ringing in it; scarcely audible, indeed, to the outer circles of the +people—that dull sound dropped heavily from the belfry. At the same +moment, each man stared at his neighbor blankly. All watches were +upheld. All hour-hands were at—had passed—the figure 1. No bell-stroke +from the tower. The multitude became tumultuous. + +Waiting a few moments, the chief magistrate, commanding silence, hailed +the belfry, to know what thing unforeseen had happened there. + +No response. + +He hailed again and yet again. + +All continued hushed. + +By his order, the soldiers burst in the tower-door; when, stationing +guards to defend it from the now surging mob, the chief, accompanied by +his former associate, climbed the winding stairs. Half-way up, they +stopped to listen. No sound. Mounting faster, they reached the belfry; +but, at the threshold, started at the spectacle disclosed. A spaniel, +which, unbeknown to them, had followed them thus far, stood shivering +as before some unknown monster in a brake: or, rather, as if it snuffed +footsteps leading to some other world. + +Bannadonna lay, prostrate and bleeding, at the base of the bell which +was adorned with girls and garlands. He lay at the feet of the hour +Una; his head coinciding, in a vertical line, with her left hand, +clasped by the hour Dua. With downcast face impending over him, like +Jael over nailed Sisera in the tent, was the domino; now no more +becloaked. + +It had limbs, and seemed clad in a scaly mail, lustrous as a +dragon-beetle’s. It was manacled, and its clubbed arms were uplifted, +as if, with its manacles, once more to smite its already smitten +victim. One advanced foot of it was inserted beneath the dead body, as +if in the act of spurning it. + +Uncertainty falls on what now followed. + +It were but natural to suppose that the magistrates would, at first, +shrink from immediate personal contact with what they saw. At the +least, for a time, they would stand in involuntary doubt; it may be, in +more or less of horrified alarm. Certain it is, that an arquebuss was +called for from below. And some add, that its report, followed by a +fierce whiz, as of the sudden snapping of a main-spring, with a steely +din, as if a stack of sword-blades should be dashed upon a pavement, +these blended sounds came ringing to the plain, attracting every eye +far upward to the belfry, whence, through the lattice-work, thin +wreaths of smoke were curling. + +Some averred that it was the spaniel, gone mad by fear, which was shot. +This, others denied. True it was, the spaniel never more was seen; and, +probably, for some unknown reason, it shared the burial now to be +related of the domino. For, whatever the preceding circumstances may +have been, the first instinctive panic over, or else all ground of +reasonable fear removed, the two magistrates, by themselves, quickly +rehooded the figure in the dropped cloak wherein it had been hoisted. +The same night, it was secretly lowered to the ground, smuggled to the +beach, pulled far out to sea, and sunk. Nor to any after urgency, even +in free convivial hours, would the twain ever disclose the full secrets +of the belfry. + +From the mystery unavoidably investing it, the popular solution of the +foundling’s fate involved more or less of supernatural agency. But some +few less unscientific minds pretended to find little difficulty in +otherwise accounting for it. In the chain of circumstantial inferences +drawn, there may, or may not, have been some absent or defective links. +But, as the explanation in question is the only one which tradition has +explicitly preserved, in dearth of better, it will here be given. But, +in the first place, it is requisite to present the supposition +entertained as to the entire motive and mode, with their origin, of the +secret design of Bannadonna; the minds above-mentioned assuming to +penetrate as well into his soul as into the event. The disclosure will +indirectly involve reference to peculiar matters, none of, the +clearest, beyond the immediate subject. + +At that period, no large bell was made to sound otherwise than as at +present, by agitation of a tongue within, by means of ropes, or +percussion from without, either from cumbrous machinery, or stalwart +watchmen, armed with heavy hammers, stationed in the belfry, or in +sentry-boxes on the open roof, according as the bell was sheltered or +exposed. + +It was from observing these exposed bells, with their watchmen, that +the foundling, as was opined, derived the first suggestion of his +scheme. Perched on a great mast or spire, the human figure, viewed from +below, undergoes such a reduction in its apparent size, as to +obliterate its intelligent features. It evinces no personality. Instead +of bespeaking volition, its gestures rather resemble the automatic ones +of the arms of a telegraph. + +Musing, therefore, upon the purely Punchinello aspect of the human +figure thus beheld, it had indirectly occurred to Bannadonna to devise +some metallic agent, which should strike the hour with its mechanic +hand, with even greater precision than the vital one. And, moreover, as +the vital watchman on the roof, sallying from his retreat at the given +periods, walked to the bell with uplifted mace, to smite it, Bannadonna +had resolved that his invention should likewise possess the power of +locomotion, and, along with that, the appearance, at least, of +intelligence and will. + +If the conjectures of those who claimed acquaintance with the intent of +Bannadonna be thus far correct, no unenterprising spirit could have +been his. But they stopped not here; intimating that though, indeed, +his design had, in the first place, been prompted by the sight of the +watchman, and confined to the devising of a subtle substitute for him: +yet, as is not seldom the case with projectors, by insensible +gradations, proceeding from comparatively pigmy aims to Titanic ones, +the original scheme had, in its anticipated eventualities, at last, +attained to an unheard of degree of daring. + +He still bent his efforts upon the locomotive figure for the belfry, +but only as a partial type of an ulterior creature, a sort of +elephantine Helot, adapted to further, in a degree scarcely to be +imagined, the universal conveniences and glories of humanity; supplying +nothing less than a supplement to the Six Days’ Work; stocking the +earth with a new serf, more useful than the ox, swifter than the +dolphin, stronger than the lion, more cunning than the ape, for +industry an ant, more fiery than serpents, and yet, in patience, +another ass. All excellences of all God-made creatures, which served +man, were here to receive advancement, and then to be combined in one. +Talus was to have been the all-accomplished Helot’s name. Talus, iron +slave to Bannadonna, and, through him, to man. + +Here, it might well be thought that, were these last conjectures as to +the foundling’s secrets not erroneous, then must he have been +hopelessly infected with the craziest chimeras of his age; far outgoing +Albert Magus and Cornelius Agrippa. But the contrary was averred. +However marvelous his design, however apparently transcending not alone +the bounds of human invention, but those of divine creation, yet the +proposed means to be employed were alleged to have been confined within +the sober forms of sober reason. It was affirmed that, to a degree of +more than skeptic scorn, Bannadonna had been without sympathy for any +of the vain-glorious irrationalities of his time. For example, he had +not concluded, with the visionaries among the metaphysicians, that +between the finer mechanic forces and the ruder animal vitality some +germ of correspondence might prove discoverable. As little did his +scheme partake of the enthusiasm of some natural philosophers, who +hoped, by physiological and chemical inductions, to arrive at a +knowledge of the source of life, and so qualify themselves to +manufacture and improve upon it. Much less had he aught in common with +the tribe of alchemists, who sought, by a species of incantations, to +evoke some surprising vitality from the laboratory. Neither had he +imagined, with certain sanguine theosophists, that, by faithful +adoration of the Highest, unheard-of powers would be vouchsafed to man. +A practical materialist, what Bannadonna had aimed at was to have been +reached, not by logic, not by crucible, not by conjuration, not by +altars; but by plain vice-bench and hammer. In short, to solve nature, +to steal into her, to intrigue beyond her, to procure some one else to +bind her to his hand;—these, one and all, had not been his objects; +but, asking no favors from any element or any being, of himself, to +rival her, outstrip her, and rule her. He stooped to conquer. With him, +common sense was theurgy; machinery, miracle; Prometheus, the heroic +name for machinist; man, the true God. + +Nevertheless, in his initial step, so far as the experimental automaton +for the belfry was concerned, he allowed fancy some little play; or, +perhaps, what seemed his fancifulness was but his utilitarian ambition +collaterally extended. In figure, the creature for the belfry should +not be likened after the human pattern, nor any animal one, nor after +the ideals, however wild, of ancient fable, but equally in aspect as in +organism be an original production; the more terrible to behold, the +better. + +Such, then, were the suppositions as to the present scheme, and the +reserved intent. How, at the very threshold, so unlooked for a +catastrophe overturned all, or rather, what was the conjecture here, is +now to be set forth. + +It was thought that on the day preceding the fatality, his visitors +having left him, Bannadonna had unpacked the belfry image, adjusted it, +and placed it in the retreat provided—a sort of sentry-box in one +corner of the belfry; in short, throughout the night, and for some part +of the ensuing morning, he had been engaged in arranging everything +connected with the domino; the issuing from the sentry-box each sixty +minutes; sliding along a grooved way, like a railway; advancing to the +clock-bell, with uplifted manacles; striking it at one of the twelve +junctions of the four-and-twenty hands; then wheeling, circling the +bell, and retiring to its post, there to bide for another sixty +minutes, when the same process was to be repeated; the bell, by a +cunning mechanism, meantime turning on its vertical axis, so as to +present, to the descending mace, the clasped hands of the next two +figures, when it would strike two, three, and so on, to the end. The +musical metal in this time-bell being so managed in the fusion, by some +art, perishing with its originator, that each of the clasps of the +four-and-twenty hands should give forth its own peculiar resonance when +parted. + +But on the magic metal, the magic and metallic stranger never struck +but that one stroke, drove but that one nail, served but that one +clasp, by which Bannadonna clung to his ambitious life. For, after +winding up the creature in the sentry-box, so that, for the present, +skipping the intervening hours, it should not emerge till the hour of +one, but should then infallibly emerge, and, after deftly oiling the +grooves whereon it was to slide, it was surmised that the mechanician +must then have hurried to the bell, to give his final touches to its +sculpture. True artist, he here became absorbed; and absorption still +further intensified, it may be, by his striving to abate that strange +look of Una; which, though, before others, he had treated with such +unconcern, might not, in secret, have been without its thorn. + +And so, for the interval, he was oblivious of his creature; which, not +oblivious of him, and true to its creation, and true to its heedful +winding up, left its post precisely at the given moment; along its +well-oiled route, slid noiselessly towards its mark; and, aiming at the +hand of Una, to ring one clangorous note, dully smote the intervening +brain of Bannadonna, turned backwards to it; the manacled arms then +instantly up-springing to their hovering poise. The falling body +clogged the thing’s return; so there it stood, still impending over +Bannadonna, as if whispering some post-mortem terror. The chisel lay +dropped from the hand, but beside the hand; the oil-flask spilled +across the iron track. + +In his unhappy end, not unmindful of the rare genius of the +mechanician, the republic decreed him a stately funeral. It was +resolved that the great bell—the one whose casting had been jeopardized +through the timidity of the ill-starred workman—should be rung upon the +entrance of the bier into the cathedral. The most robust man of the +country round was assigned the office of bell-ringer. + +But as the pall-bearers entered the cathedral porch, naught but a +broken and disastrous sound, like that of some lone Alpine land-slide, +fell from the tower upon their ears. And then, all was hushed. + +Glancing backwards, they saw the groined belfry crashed sideways in. It +afterwards appeared that the powerful peasant, who had the bell-rope in +charge, wishing to test at once the full glory of the bell, had swayed +down upon the rope with one concentrate jerk. The mass of quaking +metal, too ponderous for its frame, and strangely feeble somewhere at +its top, loosed from its fastening, tore sideways down, and tumbling in +one sheer fall, three hundred feet to the soft sward below, buried +itself inverted and half out of sight. + +Upon its disinterment, the main fracture was found to have started from +a small spot in the ear; which, being scraped, revealed a defect, +deceptively minute in the casting; which defect must subsequently have +been pasted over with some unknown compound. + +The remolten metal soon reassumed its place in the tower’s repaired +superstructure. For one year the metallic choir of birds sang musically +in its belfry-bough-work of sculptured blinds and traceries. But on the +first anniversary of the tower’s completion—at early dawn, before the +concourse had surrounded it—an earthquake came; one loud crash was +heard. The stone-pine, with all its bower of songsters, lay overthrown +upon the plain. + +So the blind slave obeyed its blinder lord; but, in obedience, slew +him. So the creator was killed by the creature. So the bell was too +heavy for the tower. So the bell’s main weakness was where man’s blood +had flawed it. And so pride went before the fall. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIAZZA TALES *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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