Chapter 3

by Herman Melville

　　IN WHICH A VARIETY OF CHARACTERS APPEAR.In the forward part of the boat, not the least attractive object, for atime, was a grotesque negro cripple, in tow-cloth attire and an oldcoal-sifter of a tamborine in his hand, who, owing to something wrongabout his legs, was, in effect, cut down to the stature of aNewfoundland dog; his knotted black fleece and good-natured, honestblack face rubbing against the upper part of people's thighs as he madeshift to shuffle about, making music, such as it was, and raising asmile even from the gravest. It was curious to see him, out of his verydeformity, indigence, and houselessness, so cheerily endured, raisingmirth in some of that crowd, whose own purses, hearths, hearts, alltheir possessions, sound limbs included, could not make gay."What is your name, old boy?" said a purple-faced drover, putting hislarge purple hand on the cripple's bushy wool, as if it were the curledforehead of a black steer."Der Black Guinea dey calls me, sar.""And who is your master, Guinea?""Oh sar, I am der dog widout massa.""A free dog, eh? Well, on your account, I'm sorry for that, Guinea. Dogswithout masters fare hard.""So dey do, sar; so dey do. But you see, sar, dese here legs? Whatge'mman want to own dese here legs?""But where do you live?""All 'long shore, sar; dough now. I'se going to see brodder at derlanding; but chiefly I libs in dey city.""St. Louis, ah? Where do you sleep there of nights?""On der floor of der good baker's oven, sar.""In an oven? whose, pray? What baker, I should like to know, bakes suchblack bread in his oven, alongside of his nice white rolls, too. Who isthat too charitable baker, pray?""Dar he be," with a broad grin lifting his tambourine high over hishead."The sun is the baker, eh?""Yes sar, in der city dat good baker warms der stones for dis ole darkiewhen he sleeps out on der pabements o' nights.""But that must be in the summer only, old boy. How about winter, whenthe cold Cossacks come clattering and jingling? How about winter, oldboy?""Den dis poor old darkie shakes werry bad, I tell you, sar. Oh sar, oh!don't speak ob der winter," he added, with a reminiscent shiver,shuffling off into the thickest of the crowd, like a half-frozen blacksheep nudging itself a cozy berth in the heart of the white flock.Thus far not very many pennies had been given him, and, used at last tohis strange looks, the less polite passengers of those in that part ofthe boat began to get their fill of him as a curious object; whensuddenly the negro more than revived their first interest by anexpedient which, whether by chance or design, was a singular temptationat once to diversion and charity, though, even more than his crippledlimbs, it put him on a canine footing. In short, as in appearance heseemed a dog, so now, in a merry way, like a dog he began to be treated.Still shuffling among the crowd, now and then he would pause, throwingback his head and, opening his mouth like an elephant for tossed applesat a menagerie; when, making a space before him, people would have about at a strange sort of pitch-penny game, the cripple's mouth being atonce target and purse, and he hailing each expertly-caught copper with acracked bravura from his tambourine. To be the subject of alms-giving istrying, and to feel in duty bound to appear cheerfully grateful underthe trial, must be still more so; but whatever his secret emotions, heswallowed them, while still retaining each copper this side theoesophagus. And nearly always he grinned, and only once or twice didhe wince, which was when certain coins, tossed by more playful almoners,came inconveniently nigh to his teeth, an accident whose unwelcomenesswas not unedged by the circumstance that the pennies thus thrown provedbuttons.While this game of charity was yet at its height, a limping,gimlet-eyed, sour-faced person--it may be some discharged custom-houseofficer, who, suddenly stripped of convenient means of support, hadconcluded to be avenged on government and humanity by making himselfmiserable for life, either by hating or suspecting everything andeverybody--this shallow unfortunate, after sundry sorry observations ofthe negro, began to croak out something about his deformity being asham, got up for financial purposes, which immediately threw a damp uponthe frolic benignities of the pitch-penny players.But that these suspicions came from one who himself on a wooden leg wenthalt, this did not appear to strike anybody present. That cripples,above all men should be companionable, or, at least, refrain frompicking a fellow-limper to pieces, in short, should have a littlesympathy in common misfortune, seemed not to occur to the company.Meantime, the negro's countenance, before marked with even more thanpatient good-nature, drooped into a heavy-hearted expression, full ofthe most painful distress. So far abased beneath its proper physicallevel, that Newfoundland-dog face turned in passively hopeless appeal,as if instinct told it that the right or the wrong might not haveovermuch to do with whatever wayward mood superior intelligences mightyield to.But instinct, though knowing, is yet a teacher set below reason, whichitself says, in the grave words of Lysander in the comedy, after Puckhas made a sage of him with his spell:--"The will of man is by his reason swayed."So that, suddenly change as people may, in their dispositions, it is notalways waywardness, but improved judgment, which, as in Lysander's case,or the present, operates with them.Yes, they began to scrutinize the negro curiously enough; when,emboldened by this evidence of the efficacy of his words, thewooden-legged man hobbled up to the negro, and, with the air of abeadle, would, to prove his alleged imposture on the spot, have strippedhim and then driven him away, but was prevented by the crowd's clamor,now taking part with the poor fellow, against one who had just beforeturned nearly all minds the other way. So he with the wooden leg wasforced to retire; when the rest, finding themselves left sole judges inthe case, could not resist the opportunity of acting the part: notbecause it is a human weakness to take pleasure in sitting in judgmentupon one in a box, as surely this unfortunate negro now was, but that itstrangely sharpens human perceptions, when, instead of standing by andhaving their fellow-feelings touched by the sight of an alleged culpritseverely handled by some one justiciary, a crowd suddenly come to be alljusticiaries in the same case themselves; as in Arkansas once, a manproved guilty, by law, of murder, but whose condemnation was deemedunjust by the people, so that they rescued him to try him themselves;whereupon, they, as it turned out, found him even guiltier than thecourt had done, and forthwith proceeded to execution; so that thegallows presented the truly warning spectacle of a man hanged by hisfriends.But not to such extremities, or anything like them, did the presentcrowd come; they, for the time, being content with putting the negrofairly and discreetly to the question; among other things, asking him,had he any documentary proof, any plain paper about him, attesting thathis case was not a spurious one."No, no, dis poor ole darkie haint none o' dem waloable papers," hewailed."But is there not some one who can speak a good word for you?" here saida person newly arrived from another part of the boat, a young Episcopalclergyman, in a long, straight-bodied black coat; small in stature, butmanly; with a clear face and blue eye; innocence, tenderness, and goodsense triumvirate in his air."Oh yes, oh yes, ge'mmen," he eagerly answered, as if his memory, beforesuddenly frozen up by cold charity, as suddenly thawed back intofluidity at the first kindly word. "Oh yes, oh yes, dar is aboard here awerry nice, good ge'mman wid a weed, and a ge'mman in a gray coat andwhite tie, what knows all about me; and a ge'mman wid a big book, too;and a yarb-doctor; and a ge'mman in a yaller west; and a ge'mman wid abrass plate; and a ge'mman in a wiolet robe; and a ge'mman as is asodjer; and ever so many good, kind, honest ge'mmen more aboard whatknows me and will speak for me, God bress 'em; yes, and what knows me aswell as dis poor old darkie knows hisself, God bress him! Oh, find 'em,find 'em," he earnestly added, "and let 'em come quick, and show youall, ge'mmen, dat dis poor ole darkie is werry well wordy of all youkind ge'mmen's kind confidence.""But how are we to find all these people in this great crowd?" was thequestion of a bystander, umbrella in hand; a middle-aged person, acountry merchant apparently, whose natural good-feeling had been made atleast cautious by the unnatural ill-feeling of the dischargedcustom-house officer."Where are we to find them?" half-rebukefully echoed the young Episcopalclergymen. "I will go find one to begin with," he quickly added, and,with kind haste suiting the action to the word, away he went."Wild goose chase!" croaked he with the wooden leg, now again drawingnigh. "Don't believe there's a soul of them aboard. Did ever beggar havesuch heaps of fine friends? He can walk fast enough when he tries, agood deal faster than I; but he can lie yet faster. He's some whiteoperator, betwisted and painted up for a decoy. He and his friends areall humbugs.""Have you no charity, friend?" here in self-subdued tones, singularlycontrasted with his unsubdued person, said a Methodist minister,advancing; a tall, muscular, martial-looking man, a Tennessean by birth,who in the Mexican war had been volunteer chaplain to a volunteerrifle-regiment."Charity is one thing, and truth is another," rejoined he with thewooden leg: "he's a rascal, I say.""But why not, friend, put as charitable a construction as one can uponthe poor fellow?" said the soldierlike Methodist, with increaseddifficulty maintaining a pacific demeanor towards one whose own asperityseemed so little to entitle him to it: "he looks honest, don't he?""Looks are one thing, and facts are another," snapped out the otherperversely; "and as to your constructions, what construction can you putupon a rascal, but that a rascal he is?""Be not such a Canada thistle," urged the Methodist, with something lessof patience than before. "Charity, man, charity.""To where it belongs with your charity! to heaven with it!" againsnapped out the other, diabolically; "here on earth, true charity dotes,and false charity plots. Who betrays a fool with a kiss, the charitablefool has the charity to believe is in love with him, and the charitableknave on the stand gives charitable testimony for his comrade in thebox.""Surely, friend," returned the noble Methodist, with much adorestraining his still waxing indignation--"surely, to say the least, youforget yourself. Apply it home," he continued, with exterior calmnesstremulous with inkept emotion. "Suppose, now, I should exercise nocharity in judging your own character by the words which have fallenfrom you; what sort of vile, pitiless man do you think I would take youfor?""No doubt"--with a grin--"some such pitiless man as has lost his pietyin much the same way that the jockey loses his honesty.""And how is that, friend?" still conscientiously holding back the oldAdam in him, as if it were a mastiff he had by the neck."Never you mind how it is"--with a sneer; "but all horses aint virtuous,no more than all men kind; and come close to, and much dealt with, somethings are catching. When you find me a virtuous jockey, I will find youa benevolent wise man.""Some insinuation there.""More fool you that are puzzled by it.""Reprobate!" cried the other, his indignation now at last almost boilingover; "godless reprobate! if charity did not restrain me, I could callyou by names you deserve.""Could you, indeed?" with an insolent sneer."Yea, and teach you charity on the spot," cried the goaded Methodist,suddenly catching this exasperating opponent by his shabby coat-collar,and shaking him till his timber-toe clattered on the deck like anine-pin. "You took me for a non-combatant did you?--thought, seedycoward that you are, that you could abuse a Christian with impunity. Youfind your mistake"--with another hearty shake."Well said and better done, church militant!" cried a voice."The white cravat against the world!" cried another."Bravo, bravo!" chorused many voices, with like enthusiasm taking sideswith the resolute champion."You fools!" cried he with the wooden leg, writhing himself loose andinflamedly turning upon the throng; "you flock of fools, under thiscaptain of fools, in this ship of fools!"With which exclamations, followed by idle threats against hisadmonisher, this condign victim to justice hobbled away, as disdainingto hold further argument with such a rabble. But his scorn was more thanrepaid by the hisses that chased him, in which the brave Methodist,satisfied with the rebuke already administered, was, to omit stillbetter reasons, too magnanimous to join. All he said was, pointingtowards the departing recusant, "There he shambles off on his one loneleg, emblematic of his one-sided view of humanity.""But trust your painted decoy," retorted the other from a distance,pointing back to the black cripple, "and I have my revenge.""But we aint agoing to trust him!" shouted back a voice."So much the better," he jeered back. "Look you," he added, coming to adead halt where he was; "look you, I have been called a Canada thistle.Very good. And a seedy one: still better. And the seedy Canada thistlehas been pretty well shaken among ye: best of all. Dare say some seedhas been shaken out; and won't it spring though? And when it doesspring, do you cut down the young thistles, and won't they spring themore? It's encouraging and coaxing 'em. Now, when with my thistles yourfarms shall be well stocked, why then--you may abandon 'em!""What does all that mean, now?" asked the country merchant, staring."Nothing; the foiled wolf's parting howl," said the Methodist. "Spleen,much spleen, which is the rickety child of his evil heart of unbelief:it has made him mad. I suspect him for one naturally reprobate. Oh,friends," raising his arms as in the pulpit, "oh beloved, how are weadmonished by the melancholy spectacle of this raver. Let us profit bythe lesson; and is it not this: that if, next to mistrusting Providence,there be aught that man should pray against, it is against mistrustinghis fellow-man. I have been in mad-houses full of tragic mopers, andseen there the end of suspicion: the cynic, in the moody madnessmuttering in the corner; for years a barren fixture there; head loppedover, gnawing his own lip, vulture of himself; while, by fits andstarts, from the corner opposite came the grimace of the idiot at him.""What an example," whispered one."Might deter Timon," was the response."Oh, oh, good ge'mmen, have you no confidence in dis poor ole darkie?"now wailed the returning negro, who, during the late scene, had stumpedapart in alarm."Confidence in you?" echoed he who had whispered, with abruptly changedair turning short round; "that remains to be seen.""I tell you what it is, Ebony," in similarly changed tones said he whohad responded to the whisperer, "yonder churl," pointing toward thewooden leg in the distance, "is, no doubt, a churlish fellow enough, andI would not wish to be like him; but that is no reason why you may notbe some sort of black Jeremy Diddler.""No confidence in dis poor ole darkie, den?""Before giving you our confidence," said a third, "we will wait thereport of the kind gentleman who went in search of one of your friendswho was to speak for you.""Very likely, in that case," said a fourth, "we shall wait here tillChristmas. Shouldn't wonder, did we not see that kind gentleman again.After seeking awhile in vain, he will conclude he has been made a foolof, and so not return to us for pure shame. Fact is, I begin to feel alittle qualmish about the darkie myself. Something queer about thisdarkie, depend upon it."Once more the negro wailed, and turning in despair from the lastspeaker, imploringly caught the Methodist by the skirt of his coat. Buta change had come over that before impassioned intercessor. With anirresolute and troubled air, he mutely eyed the suppliant; against whom,somehow, by what seemed instinctive influences, the distrusts first seton foot were now generally reviving, and, if anything, with addedseverity."No confidence in dis poor ole darkie," yet again wailed the negro,letting go the coat-skirts and turning appealingly all round him."Yes, my poor fellow I have confidence in you," now exclaimed thecountry merchant before named, whom the negro's appeal, coming sopiteously on the heel of pitilessness, seemed at last humanely to havedecided in his favor. "And here, here is some proof of my trust," withwhich, tucking his umbrella under his arm, and diving down his hand intohis pocket, he fished forth a purse, and, accidentally, along with it,his business card, which, unobserved, dropped to the deck. "Here, here,my poor fellow," he continued, extending a half dollar.Not more grateful for the coin than the kindness, the cripple's faceglowed like a polished copper saucepan, and shuffling a pace nigher,with one upstretched hand he received the alms, while, as unconsciously,his one advanced leather stump covered the card.Done in despite of the general sentiment, the good deed of the merchantwas not, perhaps, without its unwelcome return from the crowd, sincethat good deed seemed somehow to convey to them a sort of reproach.Still again, and more pertinaciously than ever, the cry arose againstthe negro, and still again he wailed forth his lament and appeal amongother things, repeating that the friends, of whom already he hadpartially run off the list, would freely speak for him, would anybody gofind them."Why don't you go find 'em yourself?" demanded a gruff boatman."How can I go find 'em myself? Dis poor ole game-legged darkie's friendsmust come to him. Oh, whar, whar is dat good friend of dis darkie's, datgood man wid de weed?"At this point, a steward ringing a bell came along, summoning allpersons who had not got their tickets to step to the captain's office;an announcement which speedily thinned the throng about the blackcripple, who himself soon forlornly stumped out of sight, probably onmuch the same errand as the rest.