Classic Audiobook Collection - Billy Budd by Herman Melville ~ Full Audiobook [drama]
Episode Date: July 27, 2024Billy Budd by Herman Melville audiobook. Genre: drama On the eve of war with revolutionary France, the British navy is stretched thin, and suspicion of mutiny hangs over every deck. Into this tense w...orld steps Billy Budd, a young sailor pressed into service and assigned to the warship HMS Bellipotent. Handsome, hardworking, and widely liked, Billy seems the very image of innocence - until his presence stirs jealousy and fear in the ship's master-at-arms, John Claggart. As discipline tightens and rumors spread, an accusation places Billy in the sights of Captain Edward Fairfax Vere, a thoughtful commander torn between sympathy for the individual and duty to naval law. Confined by the rigid codes that keep a fighting ship afloat, Vere must weigh conscience against authority while the crew watches, aware that a single decision could ripple into unrest. Herman Melville's final, haunting novella becomes a chamber drama at sea, probing the costs of obedience, the ambiguity of justice, and the uneasy line between goodness and guilt. With the ocean as both backdrop and pressure cooker, Billy Budd builds toward a moral crisis in which character and command collide. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:16:21) Chapter 02 (00:34:57) Chapter 03 (00:54:09) Chapter 04 (01:13:26) Chapter 05 (01:26:44) Chapter 06 (01:40:10) Chapter 07 (02:05:07) Chapter 08 (02:29:59) Chapter 09 (02:45:54) Chapter 10 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Billy Budd by Herman Melville, Section 1. Chapter 1
In the time before steamships, or then more frequently than now, a stroller along the docks of any considerable seaport
would occasionally have his attention arrested by a group of bronzed mariners, man-of-war's men,
or merchant sailors in holiday attire ashore on liberty. In certain instances they would flank,
or, like a bodyguard quite surrounds some superior figure of their own class,
moving along with them like El Debron among the lesser lights of his constellation.
That signal object was the, quote, handsome sailor, end quote,
of the less prosaic time alike of the military and merchant navies.
With no perceptible trace of the vainglorious about him,
rather, with the offhand unaffectedness of natural regality,
he seemed to accept the spontaneous homage of his shipmates.
A somewhat remarkable instance recurs to me.
In Liverpool, now half a century ago,
I saw under the shadow of the great dingy street wall of Prince's dock,
an obstruction long since removed,
a common sailor, so intensely black that he must needs have been a native African
of the unadulterate blood of ham.
A symmetric figure much above the average height,
the two ends of a gay silk handkerchief thrown loose about the neck danced upon the displayed ebony of his chest.
In his ears were big hoops of gold, and a Scotch Highland bonnet with a tartan band set off his shapely head.
It was a hot noon in July, and his face, lustrous with perspiration, beamed with barbaric good humor.
In jovial Sally's right and left, his white teeth flashing into view, he rollicked along, the center of a company,
of his shipmates. These were made up of such an assortment of tribes and complexions as would
have well fitted them to be marched up by Anishars's cloutes before the bar of the First French
Assembly as representatives of the human race. At each spontaneous tribute rendered by the wayfarers
to this black pay god of a fellow, the tribute of a pause and stare, and less frequent in exclamation,
the motley retinue showed that they took that sort of pride in the evoker of it which the Assyrian
priests doubtless showed for their grand sculptured bull when the faithful prostrated themselves.
To return. If, in some cases, a bit of a nautical mirat in setting forth his person ashore,
the handsome sailor of the period in question evinced nothing of the dandified Billy B. Dam,
an amusing character all but extinct now, but occasionally to be encountered, and in a form
yet more amusing than the original, at the tiller of the boats on the tempestuous eerie canal,
more likely, vaporing in the groggeries along the towpath.
Invariably, a proficient in his perilous calling,
he was also more or less of a mighty boxer or wrestler.
It was strength and beauty.
Tales of his prowess were recited.
A shore he was the champion, afloat, the spokesman,
on every suitable occasion, always foremost.
Close-reafing topsails in the gale, there he was,
astride the weather yard arm, foot in stirrup, both hands tugging at the earring as at a bridle,
in very much the attitude of young Alexander curbing the fiery bucephalus,
a superb figure tossed up as by the horns of Taurus against the thunderous sky,
cheerily hallooing to the strenuous file along the spar.
The moral nature was seldom out of keeping with the physical make,
indeed, except as toned by the former, the comeliness and power, always attractive in
masculine conjunction, hardly could have drawn the sort of homage the handsome sailor and some
examples received from his less gifted associates. Such a sinisher, at least an aspect, and something such
too in nature, though with important variations made apparent as the story proceeds, was welcome-eyed
Billy Budd, or Baby Bud, as more familiarly, under circumstances hereafter to be given,
he at last came to be called. Aged 21, a Fort Topman of the Fleet
toward the close of the last decade of the 18th century.
It was not very long prior to the time of the narration that follows
that he had entered the king's service,
having been impressed on the narrow seas from a homeward-bound English merchantman
into a 74 outward bound, HMS indomitable,
which ship, as was not unusual in those hurried days,
had been obliged to put to sea short of her proper complement of men.
Plump upon Billy at first sight in the gangway,
the boarding officer, Lieutenant Ratcliffe, pounced, even before the merchantman's crew formerly
was mustered on the quarter-deck for his deliberate inspection, and him only he selected. For whether it was
because the other men, when ranged before him, showed to ill-advantage after Billy, or whether he had
some scruples in view of the merchantman being rather short-handed, however it might be, the officer
contented himself with his first spontaneous choice. To the surprise of the ship's company, though much
to the lieutenant's satisfaction, Billy made no demur. But indeed, any demur would have been as idle as
the protest of a goldfinch popped into a cage. Noting this uncomplaining acquiescence, all but
cheerful, one might say, the shipmates turned a surprised glance of silent reproach at the sailor.
The shipmaster was one of those worthy mortals found in every vocation, even the humbler ones,
the sort of person whom everybody agrees in calling a respectable man.
And, nor so strange to report as it may appear to be, though a ploughman of the troubled waters,
lifelong contending with the intractable elements, there was nothing this honest soul at heart loved
better than simple peace and quiet. For the rest, he was fifty or thereabouts, a little inclined
to corpulence, a pre-possessing face, unwiskered, and of an agreeable color, a rather full face,
humanely intelligent in expression. On a fair day with a fair wind and all going well,
a certain musical chime in his voice seemed to be the veritable, unobstructed outcome of the
innermost man. He had much prudence, much conscientiousness, and there were occasions when
these virtues were the cause of overmuch disquietude in him. On a passage, so long as his craft
was in any proximity to land, no sleep for Captain Gravelling. He took to heart those serious
responsibilities not so heavily borne by some shipmasters. Now, while Billy Budd was down in the
forecastle getting his kit together, the indomitables lieutenant, burly and bluff, no-wise disconcerted by
Captain Gravelings omitting to proffer the customary hospitality is on an occasion so unwelcome to him,
an omission simply caused by preoccupation of thought, unceremoniously invited himself into the cabin,
and also to a flask from the spirit locker, a receptacle, a receptacle.
which his experienced eye instantly discovered.
In fact, he was one of those sea dogs
in whom all the hardship and peril of naval life
in the great prolonged wars of his time
never impaired the natural instinct for sensuous enjoyment.
His duty he always faithfully did,
but duty is sometimes a dry obligation,
and he was for irrigating its aridity
whensoever possible with a fertilizing decoction of strong waters.
For the cabin's proprietor,
there was nothing left but to play.
the part of the enforced host, with whatever grace and alacrity were practicable.
As necessary adjuncts to the flask, he silently placed tumbler and water jug before the irrepressible
guest. But excusing himself from partaking just then, dismally watched the unembarrassed officer
deliberately diluting his grog a little, then tossing it off in three swallows, pushing the empty
tumbler away, yet not so far as to be beyond easy reach, at the same time settling himself in his seat,
smacking his lips with high satisfaction and looking straight at the host.
These proceedings over, the master broke the silence, and there lurked a rueful reproach in the tone of his voice.
"'Lieutenant, you are going to take my best man from me, the jewel of him.'
"'Yes, I know,' rejoined the other, immediately drawing back the tumbler preliminary to a replenishing.
"'Yes, I know. Sorry.
"'Beg pardon, but you don't understand, Lieutenant. See here now. Before I shipped that young fellow,
my forecastle was a rat pit of quarrels. It was black times, I tell you, aboard the rites here.
I was worried, to that degree my pipe had no comfort for me. But Billy came, and it was like a Catholic
priest striking peace in an Irish shindy, not that he preached to them or said or did anything
in particular, but a virtue went out of him, sugaring the sour ones.
They took to him like hornets to treacle, all but the bluffer of the gang, the big shaggy chap with the fire-red whiskers.
He, indeed, out of envy, perhaps, of the newcomer, and thinking such a sweet and pleasant fellow, as he mockingly designated him to the others,
could hardly have the spirit of a game-cock, must needs bestir himself in trying to get up an ugly row with him.
Billy forbore with him, and reassured with him in a pleasant way, he is something like myself, lieutenant, to whom ought like a
a quarrel is hateful, but nothing served. So in the second dog watch one day, the red whiskers
in presence of the others, under pretense of showing Billy just whence a sirloin steak was cut,
for the fellow had once been a butcher, insultingly gave him a dig under the ribs.
Quick as lightning, Billy let fly his arm. I dare say he never meant to do quite as much as he
did, but anyhow he gave the burly fool a terrible drubbing. It took about half a minute, I should
think. And Lord bless you, the lubber was astonished at the celerity. And will you believe it,
Lieutenant? The Red Whiskers now really loves Billy, loves him, or is the biggest hypocrite that ever I
heard of. But they all love him. Some of them do his washing, darn old trousers for him.
The carpenter is at odd times making a pretty little chest of drawers for him. Anybody will do
anything for Billy Budd, and it's the happy family here. Now, Lieutenant, if that young fellow goes,
I know how it will be aboard the rites. Not again very soon shall I, coming up from dinner,
lean over the capstan smoking a quiet pipe. No, not very soon again, I think.
I, Lieutenant, you are going to take away the jewel of them. You are going to take away my peacemaker.
And with that the good soul had really some ado in checking a rising sob.
Well, said the lieutenant, who had listened with amused interest to all this,
and now waxing Mary with his tipple, well, blessed are the peacemaker,
especially the fighting peacemakers. And such are the 74 beauties, some of which you see poking their
noses out of the port-holes of yonder warship lying to for me, pointing through the cabin windows at the
indomitable. But courage, don't look so down-hearted, man. Why, I pledge you in advance the royal
approbation, rest assured that his majesty will be delighted to know that in a time when his
hardtack is not sought for by sailors with such avidity as should be, a time also when some ship-man,
privily resent the borrowing from them of a tar or two for the service.
His majesty, I say, will be delighted to learn that one shipmaster, at least,
cheerfully surrenders to the king the flower of his flock,
a sailor who with equal loyalty makes no descent.
But where's my beauty? Ah, looking through the cabin's open door.
Here he comes, and by Jove, lugging along his chest,
Apollo with his portmanteau.
My man, stepping out to him, you can't take that big box aboard a warder.
ship? The boxes there are mostly shot boxes. Put your duds in a bag, lad. Boot and saddle for the
cavalryman, bag and hammock for the man of war's man. The transfer from chest to bag was made,
and after seeing his man into the cutter and then following him down, the lieutenant pushed off
from the rights of man. That was the merchant ship's name, though by her master and crew abbreviated
in sailor fashion into the rights. The hard-headed Dundee owner was a
staunch admirer of Thomas Payne, whose book in rejoinder to Burke's arraignment of the French
Revolution had then been published for some time and had gone everywhere. In christening his
vessel after the title of Payne's volume, the man of Dundee was something like his contemporary
ship owner, Stephen Girard of Philadelphia, whose sympathies alike with his native land and
its liberal philosophies he evinced by naming his ships after Voltaire, Dieterot, and so forth.
But now, when the boat swept under the merchantman stern, an officer and oarsman were noting,
some bitterly and others with a grin the name emblazoned there, just then it was that the new
recruit jumped up from the bow where the coxswain had directed him to sit, and, waving his hat to his
silent shipmates sorrowfully looking over at him from the tafferel, bade the lads a genial goodbye,
then making a salutation as to the ship herself, and goodbye to you too, old rites of man,
down, sir, roared the lieutenant, instantly assuming all the rigor of his rank,
though with difficulty repressing a smile. To be sure, Billy's action was a terrible breach of naval
decorum, but in that decorum he had never been instructed, in consideration of which the
lieutenant would hardly have been so energetic in reproof but for the concluding farewell to the
ship. This he rather took as meant to convey a covert sally on the new recruits part,
a sly slur at impressment in general, and that of himself in especial.
And yet, more likely, if satire it was in effect, it was hardly so by intention.
For Billy, though happily endowed with the gaiety of high health, youth, and a free heart,
was yet by no means of a satirical turn.
The will to it and the sinister dexterity were alike wanting.
To deal in double meaning and insinuations of any sort was quite foreign to his nature.
As to his enforced enlistment, that he seemed to take pretty much as he was wont to take any vicissitudes of weather.
Like the animals, though no philosopher, he was, without knowing it, practically a fatalist.
And it may be that he rather liked this adventurous turn in his affairs which promised an opening into novel scenes and martial excitements.
Abord the indomitable, our merchant sailor was forthwith rated as an able seaman, and assigned to the starboard watch of the foretop.
He was soon at home in the service, not at all disliked for his unpretentious good looks and a sort of genial happy-go-lucky air.
No merrier man in his mess, in marked contrast to certain other individuals included like himself among the impressed portion of the ship's company.
For these, when not actively employed, were sometimes, and more particularly in the last dog watch when the drawing near of twilight-induced reverie,
apt to fall into a saddish mood which in some partook of sullenness.
But they were not so young as our four topmen, and no few of them must have known a hearth of some sort.
Others may have had wives and children left, two probably, in uncertain circumstances,
and hardly any but must have acknowledged kith and kin, while for Billy, as will shortly be seen,
his entire family was practically invested in himself.
End of Section 1.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Section 2 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Chapter 2
Though our new-made Fort Totman was well received in the top and on the gun decks,
hardly here was he that Sinishur he had previously been among those minor
ships companies of the merchant marine, with which companies only had he hitherto consorted.
He was young, and despite his all but fully developed frame, an aspect looked even younger than
he really was. This was owing to a lingering adolescent expression in the as-yet-smooth face,
all but feminine in purity of natural complexion, but where, thanks to his sea-going, the lily was
quite suppressed, and the rose had some ado visibly to flush through the tan.
To one essentially such a novice in the complexities of factitious life, the abrupt transition from his former and simpler sphere to the ampler and more knowing world of a great warship, this might well have a bastion had there been any conceit or vanity in his composition. Among her miscellaneous multitude, the indomitable mustered several individuals who, however inferior in grade, were of no common natural stamp, sailors more signally susceptible of that air which could
continuous martial discipline and repeated presence in battle can in some degree impart even to the average man.
As the handsome sailor, Billy Budd's position aboard the 74 was something analogous to that of a rustic beauty
transplanted from the provinces and brought into competition with the high-born dames of the court.
But this change of circumstances he scarce noted. As little did he observe that something about him
provoked an ambiguous smile in one or two harder faces among the blue jackets.
Nor less unaware was he of the peculiar favorable effect his person and demeanor had upon the
more intelligent gentleman of the quarter-deck, nor could this well have been otherwise.
Cast in a mold peculiar to the finest physical examples of those Englishmen in whom the Saxon's
strain would seem not at all to partake of any Norman or other admixture, he showed and faced that
humane look of reposeful good nature which the Greek sculptor in some instances gave to his heroic
strongman, Hercules. But this again was subtly modified by another and pervasive quality,
the ear, small and shapely, the arch of the foot, the curve in mouth and nostril. Even the
indurated hand dyed to the orange tawny of the toucans bill, a hand-telling of the halliards and tar
buckets. But above all, something in the mobile expression and every chance attitude and movement,
something suggestive of a mother eminently favored by love and the graces. All this strangely
indicated a lineage in direct contradiction to his lot. The mysteriousness here became less
mysterious through a matter-of-fact elicited when Billy at the Capstan was being formally
mustered into the service. Asked by the officer, a small, brisk little gentleman as it chanced,
Among other questions, his place of birth, he replied,
Please, sir, I don't know.
Don't know where you were born?
Who was your father?
God knows, sir.
Struck by the straightforward simplicity of these replies,
the officer next asked,
Do you know anything about your beginning?
No, sir, but I have heard that I was found in a pretty silk-lined basket
hanging one morning from the knocker of a good man's door in Bristol.
Found, say you?
Well, throwing back his head and looking up and down the new recruit,
well, it turns out to have been a pretty good find.
Hope they'll find some more like you, my man.
The fleet sadly needs them.
Yes, Billy Budd was a foundling, a presumable by-blow,
and evidently no ignoble one.
Noble descent was as evident in him as in a blood horse.
For the rest, with little or no sharpness of faculty
or any trace of the wisdom of the serpent,
nor yet quite a dove, he possessed a certain degree,
of intelligence along with the unconventional rectitude of a sound human creature, one to whom not yet
has been proffered the questionable apple of knowledge. He was illiterate, he could not read,
but he could sing, and like the illiterate Nightingale was sometimes the composer of his own song.
Of self-consciousness he seemed to have little or none, or about as much as we may reasonably impute
to a dog of St. Bernard's breed, habitually being with the elements and knowing little more of
the land than as a beach, or rather that portion of the Taraquius globe providentially set apart
for dance houses, doxies, and tapsters, in short, what sailors call a fiddler's green,
his simple nature remained unsophisticated by those moral obliquities which are not in every case
incomparable with that manufacturable thing known as respectability. But are sailor
frequenters of fiddler's greens without vices? No, but less often than the landsmen do their
vices, so-called, part, partake of crookedness of heart, seeming less to proceed from viciousness
than exuberance of vitality after long restraint, frank manifestations in accordance with natural law.
By his original constitution, aided by the cooperating influences of his lot,
Billy, in many respects, was little more than a sort of upright barbarian. Much such, perhaps,
as Adam presumably might have been, ere the Urbane's serpent wriggled himself into his company.
And here be it submitted that, apparently going to corroborate the doctrine of man's fall,
a doctrine now popularly ignored,
it is observable that where certain virtues pristine and unadulterate peculiarly characterize anybody in the external uniform of civilization,
they will upon scrutiny seem not to be derived from custom or convention,
but rather to be out of keeping with these,
as if indeed exceptionally transmitted from a period prior to Cain's city,
and siddified man. The character marked by such qualities has to an unvitiated taste and untampered with
flavor like that of berries, while the man thoroughly civilized, even in a fair specimen of the
breed, has to the same moral palate a questionable smack as of a compounded wine. To any stray
inheritor of these primitive qualities found, like Casper Hauser, wandering dazed in a Christian
capital of our time, the poet's famous invocation,
near two thousand years ago of the good rustic out of his latitude in the Rome of the Caesar's still
appropriately holds. Faithful in word and thought, what hast thee Fabian to the city brought?
Though our handsome sailor had as much of masculine beauty as one can expect anywhere to see,
nevertheless, like the beautiful woman in one of Hawthorne's minor tales, there was just one thing amiss in
him. No visible blemish, indeed, as with the lady, no, but an occasional liability to a vocal
defect, though in the hour of elemental uproar or peril he was everything that a sailor should be,
yet under sudden provocation of strong heart-feeling his voice, otherwise singularly musical,
as if expressive of the harmony within, was apt to develop an organic hesitancy,
in fact, more or less of a stutter or even worse.
particular, Billy was a striking instance that the arch-interpreter, the envious Marplot of
Eden, still has more or less to do with every human consignment to this planet of Earth. In every
case, one way or another, he is sure to slip in his little card, as much as to remind us,
I too have a hand here. The avowal of such an imperfection in the handsome sailor should be
evidence not alone that he is not presented as a conventional hero, but also that the story in which he is
the main figure is no romance. Chapter 3. At the time of Billy Budd's arbitrary enlistment into the
indomitable, that ship was on her way to join the Mediterranean fleet. No long time elapsed before the junction
was affected. As one of that fleet, the 74 participated in its movements, though at times on account
of her superior sailing qualities, in the absence of frigates, dispatched on separate duty as a scout,
and at times on less temporary service.
But with all this, the story has little concernment,
restricted as it is to the inner life of one particular ship
and the career of an individual sailor.
It was the summer of 1797.
In the April of that year had occurred the commotion at Spithead,
followed in May by a second and yet more serious outbreak in the fleet at the Noor.
The latter is known, and without exaggeration in the epithet,
as the great mutiny.
It was indeed a demonstration more menacing to England than the contemporary manifestos in
conquering and proselytizing armies of the French Directory.
To the Empire, the Norm Mutiny was what a strike in the fire brigade would be to London
threatened by General Arson.
In a crisis when the kingdom might well have anticipated the famous signal that some years
later published along the naval line of battle what it was that upon occasion England expected
of Englishmen, that was the time when at the mast-hast-hapinged.
heads of the three-deckers and 74s moored in her own roadstead, a fleet, the right arm of a power
then all but the sole-free conservative one of the old world, the blue jackets, to be numbered
by thousands, ran up with hurrahs the British colors with the Union and cross-wiped out,
by that cancellation transmuting the flag of founded law and freedom defined into the enemy's
red meteor of unbridled and unbounded revolt. Reasonable discontentant growing,
out of practical grievances in the fleet had been ignited into irrational combustion as by live
cinders blown across the channel from France in flames. The event converted into irony for a time
those spirited strains of dibden, as a songwriter no mean auxiliary to the English government
at this European conjuncture, strains celebrating, among other things, the patriotic devotion of the
British tar. And as for my life, tis the kings.
Such an episode in the island's grand naval story her naval historians naturally abridge.
One of them, GPR James, candidly acknowledging that fain would he pass it over did not impartiality forbid fastidiousness.
And yet his mention is less a narration than a reference, having to do hardly at all with details.
Nor are these readily to be found in the libraries.
Like some other events in every age befallen states everywhere, including America.
the Great Mutiny was of such character that national pride, along with views of policy,
would fain shade it off into the historical background.
Such events cannot be ignored, but there is a considerate way of historically treating them.
If a well-constituted individual refrains from blazoning a miss or calamitous in his family,
a nation in the like circumstance may without reproach be equally discreet.
though after parlayings between government and the ringleaders and concessions by the former as to some glaring abuses,
the first uprising, that at Spithead, with difficulty was put down, or matters for a time pacified.
Yet at the nor the unforeseen renewal of insurrection on a yet larger scale,
and emphasized in the conferences that ensued by demands deemed by the authorities not only inadmissible but aggressively insolent,
indicated, if the Red Flag did not sufficiently do so, what was the spirit animating the men?
Final suppression, however, there was, but only made possible, perhaps, by the unswerving loyalty of the Marine Corps,
and a voluntary resumption of loyalty among influential sections of the crews.
To some extent, the Norm mutiny may be regarded as analogous to the distempering eruption of contagious fever
in a framed constitutionally sound, and which anon throws it off.
At all events, among these thousands of mutineers were some of the Tars who not so very long afterwards,
whether wholly prompted thereto by patriotism or pugnacious instinct, or by both,
helped to win a coronet for Nelson at the Nile, and the naval crown of crowns for him at Trafalgar.
To the mutineers those battles, and especially Trafalgar, were a plenary absolution, and a grand one,
for that which goes to make up scenic naval display is heroic,
magnificence in arms. Those battles, especially Trafalgar, stand unmatched in human annals.
Chapter 4. Concerning the greatest sailor since the world began. Tenison. In this matter of writing,
resolve as one may to keep to the main road, some by-paths have an enticement not readily to be
withstood. Beckoned by the genius of Nelson, I am going to err into such a by-path. If the reader will
keep me company, I shall be glad. At the least, we can promise ourselves that pleasure which is
wickedly said to be in sinning, for a literary sin the divergence will be. Very likely it is no new
remark that the inventions of our time have at last brought about a change in sea warfare in
degree corresponding to the revolution in all warfare affected by the original introduction from
China into Europe of gunpowder. The first European firearm, a clumsy contrivance, was
as is well known, scouted by no few of the knights as a base implement, good enough per
adventure for weavers too craven to stand up crossing steel with steel and frank fight.
But, as ashore knightly valor, though shorn of its blazonry, did not cease with the knights,
neither on the seas. Though nowadays, in encounters there a certain kind of displayed gallantry
be fallen out of date as hardly applicable under changed circumstances, did the nobler qualities of such
naval magnets as Don John of Austria, Doria, Van Tromp, Jean Bart, the long line of British
admirals and the American Decaders of 1812 become obsolete with their wooden walls. Nevertheless,
to anybody who can hold the present at its worth without being inappreciative of the past,
it may be forgiven, if to such and won the solitary old Hulk at Portsmouth, Nelson's victory
seems to float there, not alone as the decaying monument of a fame incorruptible, but also as a poetic
reproach, softened by its picturesqueness to the monitors and yet mightier hulls of the European ironclads.
And this not altogether because such craft are unsightly, unavoidably lacking the symmetry and grand
lines of the old battleships, but equally for other reasons. There are some, perhaps, who,
while not altogether inaccessible to that poetic reproach just alluded to,
may yet on behalf of the new order be disposed to parry it,
and this to the extent of iconoclasm, if need be.
For example, prompted by the sight of the star inserted in the victory's deck
designating the spot where the great sailor fell,
these martial utilitarians may suggest considerations implying that Nelson's ornate publication
of his person in battle was not only unnecessary, but not military,
nay, savored of foolhardiness in vanity.
They may add, too, that at Trafalgar it was in effect nothing less than a challenge to death,
and death came, and that but for his bravado the victorious admiral might possibly have
survived the battle, and so, instead of having his sagacious dying injunctions overruled by his
immediate successor in command, he himself, when the contest was decided, might have brought
his shattered fleet to anchor, a proceeding which might have averted the
deplorable loss of life by shipwreck in the elemental tempest that followed the martial one.
Well, should we set aside the more than disputable point whether for various reasons it was
possible to anchor the fleet, then plausibly enough the Bethamites of war may urge the above.
But he might have been, is but boggy ground to build on, and certainly in foresight as to the
larger issue of an encounter and anxious preparations for it, buoying the deadly way and mapping
it out as at Copenhagen, few commanders have been so painstakingly circumspect as this reckless
declarer of his person in fight. Personal prudence, even when dictated by quite other than selfish
considerations, is surely no special virtue in a military man, while an excessive love of glory,
exercising to the uttermost the honest, heartfelt sense of duty is the first. If the name
Wellington is not so much of a trumpet to the blood as the simpler name Nelson, the reason for this
may perhaps be inferred from the above. Alfred, in his funeral ode on the victor of Waterloo,
ventures not to call him the greatest soldier of all time, though in the same ode he invokes Nelson
as the greatest sailor since the world began. At Trafalgar, Nelson, on the brink of opening the fight,
sat down and wrote his last brief will and testament. If under the presentment of the most magnificent
of all victories, to be crowned by his own glorious death, a sort of priestly motive led him to
dress his person in the jewelled vouchers of his own shining deeds, if thus to have adorned himself
for the altar and the sacrifice were indeed vain glory, then affectation and fustian is each truly
heroic line in the great epics and dramas, since in such lines the poet but embodies in verse
those exaltations of sentiment that a nature like Nelson, the opportunity being given,
vitalizes into acts.
End of Section 2.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Section 3 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Chapter 5
The outbreak at the NOR was put down.
but not every grievance was redressed.
If the contractors, for example, were no longer permitted to ply some practices peculiar to their tribe everywhere,
such as providing shoddy cloth, rations not sound, or false in the measure,
not the less impressment, for one thing, went on.
By custom sanctioned for centuries, and judicially maintained by a Lord Chancellor as late as Mansfield,
that mode of manning the fleet, a mode now fallen into a sort of abeyance,
but never formally renounced, it was not practicable to give up in those years.
Its abrogation would have crippled the indispensable fleet, one wholly under canvas, no steam power.
Its innumerable sails and thousands of cannon, everything in short worked by muscle alone,
a fleet the more insatiate in demand for men, because then multiplying its ships of all grades
against contingencies present and to come of the convulsed continent.
discontent forran the two mutinies, and more or less it lurkingly survived them,
hence it was not unreasonable to apprehend some return of trouble, sporadic, or general.
One instance of such apprehensions, in the same year with this story, Nelson, then-vice-Admiral Sir Horatio,
being with the fleet off the Spanish coast, was directed by the admiral in command to shift his penant
from the captain to the Theseus, and for this reason, that the last, the last one of the last year, that the last,
latter ship, having newly arrived in the station from home where it had taken part in the
great mutiny, danger was apprehended from the temper of the men, and it was thought that an
officer like Nelson was the one, not indeed to terrorize the crew into base subjection,
but to win them by force of his mere presence back to an allegiance, if not as enthusiastic as
his own, yet as true. So it was that for a time on more than one quarter-deck anxiety did exist.
At C, precautionary vigilance was strained against relapse. At short notice, an engagement might come on.
When it did, the lieutenants assigned to batteries felt it incumbent on them in some instances to stand with drawn swords behind the men working the guns.
But on board the 74 in which Billy now swung his hammock, very little in the manner of the men and nothing obvious in the demeanor of the officers would have suggested to an ordinary observer that the Great Mutiny was a recent event.
In their general bearing and conduct, the commissioned officers of a warship naturally take their tone from the commander,
that is, if he have that ascendancy of character that ought to be his.
Captain the Honorable Edward Fairfax Veer, to give his full title, was a Bachelor of Forty or thereabouts,
a sailor of distinction, even in a time prolific of renowned seamen.
Though allied to the higher nobility, his advancement had not been altogether owing to influences connected with,
that circumstance. He had seen much service, been in various engagements, always acquitting himself
as an officer mindful of the welfare of his men, but never tolerating an infraction of discipline,
thoroughly versed in the science of his profession, and intrepid to the verge of temerity,
though never injudiciously so. For his gallantry in the West Indian waters as flag-lie lieutenant
under Rodney in that Admiral's crowning victory over de Gras, he was made a post-captain. A shore,
in the garb of a civilian, scarce anyone would have taken him for a sailor, more especially that he
never garnished unprofessional talk with nautical terms, and grave in his bearing evinced little
appreciation of mere humor. It was not out of keeping with these traits that on a passage when
nothing demanded his paramount action, he was the most undemonstrative of men. Any landsman
observing this gentleman, not conspicuous by his stature and wearing no pronounced insignia,
emerging from his retreat to the open deck, and noting the silent deference of the officers
retiring to leeward, might have taken him for the king's guest, a civilian aboard the king's ship,
some highly honorable, discreet envoy on his way to an important post. But, in fact, this unobtrusiveness
of demeanor may have proceeded from a certain unaffected modesty of manhood, sometimes accompanying
a resolute nature, a modesty evinced at all times not calling for pronounced action,
and which shown in any rank of life suggests a virtue aristocratic in kind.
As with some others engaged in various departments of the world's more heroic activities,
Captain Veer, though practical enough upon occasion, would at times betray a certain dreaminess of mood.
Standing alone on the weather side of the greater deck, one hand holding by the rigging,
he would absently gaze off at the Black Sea.
At the presentation to him then of some minor matter interrupting the current of his thoughts,
he would show more or less irascibility, but instantly he would control it.
In the Navy, he was popularly known by the appellation Star-Evere.
How such a designation happens to fall upon one who, whatever his sturdy qualities,
was without any brilliant ones, was in this wise.
A favorite kinsman, Lord Denton, a free-handed fellow,
had been the first to meet and congratulate him upon his return to England from the West Indian cruise,
and but the day previous, turning over a copy of Andrew Marvel's poems,
had lighted, not for the first time, however,
upon the lines entitled Appleton House,
the name of one of the seats of their common ancestor,
a hero in the German wars of the 17th century,
in which poem occur the lines.
This tis to have been from the first in a domestic heaven nursed,
under the discipline severe of Fairfax and the Starry Veer.
And so, upon embracing his cousin,
fresh from Rodney's victory, wherein he had played so gallant apart, brimming over with just
family pride in the sailor of their house, he exuberantly exclaimed,
Give ye joy, Ed, give ye joy, my starry veer. This got currency, and the novel prefix,
serving in familiar parlance readily to distinguish the indomitables captain from another
veer, his senior, a distant relative, an officer of like rank in the navy. It remained
permanently attached to the surname.
Chapter 6
In view of the part that the commander of the indomitable plays in scenes shortly to follow,
it may be well to fill out that sketch of him outlined in the previous chapter.
Aside from his qualities as a sea officer, Captain Veer was an exceptional character.
Unlike no few of England's renowned sailors, long and arduous service with signal devotion to it
had not resulted in absorbing and salting the entire man. He had a marked leaning toward everything
intellectual. He loved books, never going to see without a newly replenished library, compact, but of the
best. The isolated leisure, in some cases so wearisome, falling at intervals to commanders even
during a war cruise, never was tedious to Captain Veer. With nothing of that literary taste which
less heeds the thing conveyed than the vehicle, his bias was toward those books to which every
serious mind of superior order occupying any active post of authority in the world naturally inclines.
Books treating of actual men in events, no matter of what era, history, biography, and unconventional
writers who, free from cant and convention like Montaigne, honestly and in the spirit of common sense,
philosophize upon realities. In this love of reading, he found a constant,
confirmation of his own more reserved thoughts, confirmation which he had vainly sought in social converse,
so that, as touching most fundamental topics, there had got to be established in him some
positive convictions which he felt would abide in him essentially unmodified so long as his
intelligent part remained unimpaired. In view of the humbled period in which his lot was cast,
this was well for him. His settled convictions were as a dyke against those invading waters of novel
opinion, social, political, and otherwise, which carried away as in a torrent no few minds in
those days, minds by nature not inferior to his own. While other members of that aristocracy to which
by birth he belonged were incensed at the innovators mainly because their theories were inimical
to the privileged classes, Captain Veer disinterestedly opposed them not alone because they seemed to him
incapable of embodiment in lasting institutions, but at war with the world and the peace.
of mankind. With minds less stored than his and less earnest, some officers of his rank, with whom at
times he would necessarily consort, found him lacking in the companionable quality, a dry and bookish
gentleman, as they deemed. Upon any chance withdrawal from their company, one would be apt to say
to another something like this. Veer is a noble fellow, Starry Veer. Spite the Gazettes, Sir Horatio
is at bottom scarce a better seaman or fighter.
But between you and me now,
don't you think there is a queer streak of the pedantic running through him?
Yes, like the king's yarn in a coil of navy rope.
Some apparent ground there was for this sort of confidential criticism,
since not only did the captain's discourse never fall into the jocosely familiar,
but in illustrating any point touching the stirring personages and events of the time,
he would cite some historical character or incident of antiquity.
with the same easy air that he would cite from the moderns.
He seemed unmindful of the circumstance that to his bluff company such illusions,
however pertinent they might really be, were altogether alien to men whose reading was mainly
confined to the journals. But considerateness in such matters is not easy in nature's
constituted like Captain Veers. Their honesty prescribes to them directness,
sometimes far-reaching like that of a migratory fowl that in its flight never heeds when it
crosses a frontier.
Chapter 7.
The lieutenants and other commissioned gentlemen forming Captain Veer's staff,
it is not necessary here to particularize, nor needs it to make mention of any of the
warrant officers.
But among the petty officers was one who, having much to do with the story, may as well
be forthwith introduced.
This portrait ISA, but shall never hit it.
This was John Claggart, the master at arms.
but that sea title may to landsmen seems somewhat equivocal.
Originally, doubtless, that petty officer's function was the instruction of the men in the use of arms,
sword, or cutlass.
But very long ago, owing to the advance in gunnery making hand-to-hand encounters less frequent,
and giving to Niter and sulfur the preeminence over steel, that function ceased.
The mastered arms of a great warship becoming a sort of chief of police charged,
among other matters with the duty of preserving order on the populous lower gun decks.
Clygert was a man of about five and thirty, somewhat spare and tall, yet of no ill figure upon the
whole. His hand was too small and shapely to have been accustomed to hard toil. The face was a
notable one. The features, all except the chin, cleanly cut as those on a Greek medallion. Yet the chin,
beardless as Tecumse's, had something of the strange protuberant heaviness in its make that
recalled the prince of the Reverend Dr. Titus Oates, the historical deponent with the clerical
drawl in the time of Charles II, and the fraud of the alleged popish plot. It served Claggart in
his office that his eye could cast a tutoring glance. His brow was of the sort phrenologically
associated with more than average intellect. Silken jet curls partly clustering over it, making a foil
to the pallor below, a pallor tinged with a faint shade of amber akin to the hue of time-tinted
marbles of old. This complexion, singularly contrasting with the red or deeply bronzed visages
of the sailors, and in part the result of his official seclusion from the sunlight, though it was
not exactly displeasing, nevertheless seemed to hint of something defective or abnormal in the
constitution and blood. But his general aspect and manner were so suggestive of an education and
career incongruous with his naval function, that when not actively engaged in it, he looked like a man
of high quality, social and moral, who for reasons of his own, was keeping incognito.
Nothing was known of his former life. It might be that he was an Englishman, and yet there
lurked a bit of accent in his speech, suggesting that possibly he was not such by birth,
but through naturalization in early childhood. Among certain grizzled sea gossips of the gun decks and
forecastle went a rumor Purdue that the master at arms was a chevalier who had volunteered into the
King's Navy by way of compounding for some mysterious swindle whereof he had been arraigned at the
king's bench. The fact that nobody could substantiate this report was, of course, nothing against
its secret currency. Such a rumor once started on the gun decks in reference to almost anyone
below the rank of a commissioned officer would, during the period assigned to this narrative,
have seemed not altogether wanting in credibility to the Tari-old
wiseacres of a man of war crew. And indeed, a man of Clygert's accomplishments, without prior
nautical experience entering the Navy at mature life, as he did, and necessarily allotted at the
start to the lowest grade in it, a man, too, who never made allusion to his previous life ashore,
these were circumstances which in the dearth of exact knowledge as to his true antecedents
opened to the invidious a vague field for unfavorable surmise. But the sailors' dog watch gossip
concerning him derived a vague plausibility from the fact that now for some period the British Navy
could so little afford to be squeamish in the matter of keeping up the muster rolls,
that not only were press gangs notoriously abroad both afloat and ashore,
but there was little or no secret about another matter, namely that the London police were at
liberty to capture any able-bodied suspect and any questionable fellow at large,
and summarily ship him to the dockyard or fleet. Furthermore, even among voluntary and
there were instances where the motive thereto partook neither of patriotic impulse nor yet of a random desire to experience a bit of sea life and martial adventure.
Insolvent debtors of minor grade, together with the promiscuous lame ducks of morality, found in the Navy a convenient and secure refuge.
Secure, because once enlisted aboard a king's ship, they were as much in sanctuary as the transgressor of the Middle Ages harboring himself under the shadow of the altar.
such sanctioned irregularities, which for obvious reasons the government would hardly think to parade at the time,
and which, consequently, and as affecting the least influential class of mankind, have all but dropped into oblivion,
lends color to something for the truth whereof I do not vouch, and hence have some scruple and stating.
Something I remember having seen in print, though the book I cannot recall,
but the same thing was personally communicated to me now more than 40 years ago by an old pension
in a cocked hat, with whom I had a most interesting talk on the terrace at Greenwich,
a Baltimore Negro, a Trafalgar man. It was to this effect. In the case of a warship short of
hands, whose speedy sailing was imperative, the deficient quota, in lack of any other way of making
it good, would be eeked out by drafts called direct from the jails. For reasons previously suggested
it would not perhaps be easy at the present day directly to prove or disprove the allegation.
But allowed as a verity, how significant would it be of England's straits at the time,
confronted by these wars which like a flight of harpies rose shrieking from the din and dust of the fallen bastille.
That era appears measurably clear to us who look back at it, and but read of it.
But to the grandfathers of us graybeards, the thoughtful of them,
the genius of it presented an aspect like that of Camon's spirit of the cape,
an eclipsing menace mysterious and prodigious.
Not America was exempt from apprehension.
At the height of Napoleon's unexampled conquests,
there were Americans who had fought at Bunker Hill
who looked forward to the possibility
that the Atlantic might prove no barrier
against the ultimate schemes of this portentous upstart
from the revolutionary chaos,
who seemed an act of fulfilling judgment prefigured in the apocalypse.
But the less credence was to be given to the Gundek talk
touching Clygert,
seeing that no man holding his office in a man-of-war
and ever hope to be popular with the crew.
Besides, in derogatory comments upon one against whom they have a grudge,
or for any reason or no reason, mislike,
sailors are much like landsmen.
They are apt to exaggerate or romance.
About as much was really known to the indomitable tars of the master at arms career
before entering the service,
as an astronomer knows about a comet's travels prior to its first observable appearance in the sky.
The verdict of the sea quidnunks has been cited only by,
way of showing what sort of moral impression the man made upon rude, uncultivated natures,
whose conceptions of human wickedness were necessarily of the narrowest, limited to ideas of vulgar
rascality, a thief among the swinging hammocks during a night watch, or the man-brokers and
land sharks of the seaports. It was no gossip, however, but fact that though, as before hinted,
Cleggart upon his entrance into the Navy was as a novice assigned to the least honorable section of a man-of-war's crew,
embracing the drudges, he did not long remain there.
The superior capacity he immediately evinced, his constitutional sobriety,
ingratiating deference to superiors, together with a peculiar ferreting genius manifested on a singular occasion,
all this capped by a certain austere patriotism, abruptly advanced him to the position of,
master-at-arms. Of this maritime chief of police, the ship's corporals, so-called,
were the immediate subordinates and compliant ones, and this, as is to be noted in some business
departments ashore, almost to a degree inconsistent with entire moral volition. His place put
various converging wires of underground influence under the chief's control, capable when astutely
worked through his understrapers of operating to the mysterious discomfort, if nothing worse,
any of the sea commonality.
End of section 3.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Section 4 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville.
This Librevox recording is in the public domain.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Chapter 8.
Life in the foretop well agreed with Billy Budd.
There, when not actually engaged on the yards yet Hyeroloft,
the topman, who as such,
had been picked out for youth and activity,
constituted an aerial club,
lounging at ease against the smaller stun sails
rolled up into cushions,
spinning yarns like the lazy gods,
and frequently amused with what was going on
in the busy world of the decks below.
No wonder, then, that a young fellow of Billy's disposition
was well content in such society.
Giving no cause of offense to anybody,
he was always alert at a call.
So in the merchant service it had been with him.
But now such punctiliousness in duty was shown that his topmates would sometimes good-naturedly laugh at him for it.
This heightened alacrity had its cause, namely the impression made upon him by the first formal gangway punishment he had ever witnessed,
which befell the day following his impressment.
It had been incurred by a little fellow, young, a novice, an after-guardsman absent from his assigned post when the ship was being put about,
a dereliction resulting in a rather serious hitch to that maneuver.
one demanding instantaneous promptitude in letting go and making fast.
When Billy saw the culprit's naked back under the scourge gridironed with red welts,
and worse, when he marked the dire expression in the liberated man's face,
as with his woolen shirt flung over him by the executioner he rushed forward from the spot
to bury himself in the crowd, Billy was horrified.
He resolved that never through remissness would he make himself liable to such a visitation,
or do or omit ought that might merit even verbal reproof.
What then was his surprise and concern when ultimately he found himself getting into petty trouble
occasionally about such matters as the stowage of his bag, or something amiss in his hammock,
matters under the police oversight of the ship's corporals of the lower decks, and which brought
down on him a vague threat from one of them?
So heedful in all things as he was, how could this be?
He could not understand it, and it more than vexed him.
When he spoke to his young topmates about it, they were either lightly incredulous
or found something comical in his unconcealed anxiety.
Is it your bag, Billy? said one.
Well, sew yourself up in it, Billy Boy, and then you'll be sure to know if anybody meddles with it.
Now there was a veteran aboard who, because his years began to disqualify him for more active work,
had been recently assigned duty as main-masdman in his watch,
looking to the gear belayed at the rail roundabout that great spar near the,
the deck. At off times, the foretopman had picked up some acquaintance with him, and now in his
trouble it occurred to him that he might be the sort of person to go to for wise counsel.
He was an old dancer, long anglicized in the service, of few words, many wrinkles, and some
honorable scars. His wizened face, time-tinted and weather-stormed to the complexion of an antique
parchment, was here and there peppered blue by the chance explosion of a gun cartridge in action.
He was an Agamemnon man, some two years prior to the time of this story having served under Nelson,
when but Sir Horatio in that ship immortal and naval memory,
and which, dismantled and in parts broken up to her bare ribs, is seen a grand skeleton in Hayden's etching.
As one of a boarding party from the Agamemnon, he had received a cut slantwise across one temple in cheek,
leaving a long pale scar like a streak of dawn's light falling a thwart the day.
dark visage. It was on account of that scar and the affair in which it was known that he had received
it, as well as from his blue-peppered complexion, that the Dansker went among the Indomitable's crew by
the name of Bordher in the Smoke. Now the first time that his small weasel eyes happened to
light on Billy Budd, a certain grim internal merriment set all his ancient wrinkles into
antic play. Was it that his eccentric, unsentimental, old sapience, primitive in its kind,
saw or thought it saw something which in contrast with the warships environment looked oddly incongruous in the handsome sailor.
But after slyly studying him at intervals, the old Merlin's equivocal merriment was modified by now.
For now, when the twain would meet, it would start in his face a quizzing sort of look.
But it would be but momentary and sometimes replaced by an expression of speculative query as to what might eventually befall a nature like that,
dropped into a world not without some man-traps, and against whose subtleties simple courage,
lacking experience, and address, and without any touch of defensive ugliness, is of little avail.
And where such innocence as man is capable of does yet in a moral emergency not always sharpen
the faculties or enlighten the will. However it was, the Dansker in his ascetic way rather took to
Billy, nor was this only because of a certain philosophic interest in such a character.
was another cause. While the old man's eccentricities, sometimes bordering on the ursn, repelled the
juniors, Billy, undeterred thereby, would make advances, never passing the old Agamemnon man
without a salutation marked by that respect which is seldom lost on the aged, however crabbed at
times, or whatever their station in life. There was a vein of dry humor or whatnot in the
mastman, and whether, in freak of patriarchal irony touching Billy's youth and athletic frame,
or for some other and more recondite reason,
from the first in addressing him he always substituted baby for Billy,
the Dansker, in fact, being the originator of the name by which the foretopman
eventually became known aboard ship.
Well then, in his mysterious little difficulty going in quest of the wrinkled one,
Billy found him off-duty in a dog watch ruminating by himself,
seated on a shot-box of the upper gun-deck,
now and then surveying with a somewhat cynical regard certain of the most,
more swaggering promenaders there. Billy recounted his trouble, again wondering how it all happened.
The salt seer attentively listened, accompanying the Fort Topman's recitals with queer twitchings of his
wrinkles and problematical little sparkles of his small ferret eyes. Making an end of his story,
the foretopman asked, and now, Dansker, do tell me what you think of it. The old man,
shoving up the front of his tarpaulin and deliberately rubbing the long slant scar at the point where it
the thin hair, laconically said,
Baby Bud, jemmy legs,
meaning the master at arms, is down on you.
Jemmy legs ejaculated Billy, his welkin eyes expanding.
What for?
Why he calls me the sweet and pleasant young fellow, they tell me.
Does he so, grinned the grizzled one.
Then said, I, baby lad, a sweet voice has jemmy legs.
No, not always, but to me he has.
I seldom pass him, but there comes a pleasant word.
and that's because he's down upon you, baby bud.
Such reiteration, along with the manner of it, incomprehensible to a novice,
disturbed Billy almost as much as the mystery for which he had sought explanation.
Something less unpleasingly oracular he tried to extract,
but the old C. Chiron, thinking perhaps that for the nantes he had sufficiently instructed
his young Achilles, pursed his lips, gathered all his wrinkles together,
and would commit himself to nothing further.
Years, and these experiences which befall certain Schrooter men subordinated lifelong to the will of superiors,
all this had developed in the Dansker the pithy-guarded cynicism that was his leading characteristic.
Chapter 9
The next day, an incident served to confirm Billy Budd in his incredulity as to the Dansker's strange summing up of the case submitted.
The ship at noon going large before the wind was rolling on her course, and he, below at dinner,
and engaged in some sportful talk with the members of his mess,
chanced in a sudden lurch to spill the entire contents of his soup pan upon the new scrubbed deck.
Claggart, the master at arms, official Rattan in hand,
happened to be passing along the battery in a bay of which the mess was lodged,
and the greasy liquid streamed just across his path.
Stepping over it, he was proceeding on his way without comment,
since the matter was nothing to take notice of under the circumstances,
when he happened to observe who it was that had done the spot.
spilling. His countenance changed. Posing, he was about to ejaculate something hasty at the sailor,
but checked himself, and pointing down to the streaming soup, playfully tapped him from behind with
his rattan, saying, in a low musical voice, peculiar to him at times,
handsomely done, my lad, and handsome is as handsome did it, too. And with that, passed on.
Not noted by Billy as not coming within his view was the involuntary smile, or rather grimace,
that accompanied Clygert's equivocal words. Eridly it drew down the thin corners of his shapely mouth.
But everybody taking his remark as meant for humorous, and at which, therefore, as coming from
a superior, they were bound to laugh with counterfeited glee, acted accordingly. And Billy,
tickled, it may be, by the allusion to his being the handsome sailor, merrily joined in.
Then, addressing his messmates exclaimed,
There now, who says that Jimmy Legs is down on me?
And who said he was, beauty, demanded one Donald with some surprise.
Whereat the Fort Topman looked a little foolish,
recalling that it was only one person, bored her in the smoke,
who had suggested what to him was the smoky idea that this pleasant master at arms
was in any peculiar way hostile to him.
Meantime, that functionary resuming his path must have momentarily worn some expression
less guarded than that of the bitter smile,
and, usurping the face from the heart, some distorting expression,
perhaps, for a drummer boy heedlessly frolicking along from the opposite direction, and chancing
to come into light collision with his person, was strangely disconcerted by his aspect.
Nor was the impression lessened when the official impulsively giving him a sharp cut with the
Rattan, vehemently exclaimed, Look where you go!
Chapter 10
What was the matter with the master at arms?
And be the matter what it might, how could it have direct relation to Billy Budd, with whom, prior to
affair of the spilled soup he had never come into any special contact, official, or otherwise.
What indeed could the trouble have to do with one so little inclined to give offence as the merchant
ship's peacemaker? Even him who in Clygard's own phrase was the sweet and pleasant young fellow.
Yes, why should jemmy legs, to borrow the Dansker's expression, be down on the handsome sailor?
But at heart, and not for nothing, as the late chance encounter may indicate to the discerning,
down on him, secretly down on him, he assuredly was.
Now to invent something touching the more private career of Claggart, something involving Billy Budd,
of which something the latter should be wholly ignorant, some romantic incident implying that
Clygert's knowledge of the young Blue Jacket began at some period anterior to catching sight of him
on board the 74, all this, not so difficult to do, might avail in a way more or less interesting
to account for whatever enigma may appear to lurk in the case.
But in fact, there was nothing of the sort.
And yet the cause, necessarily to be assumed as the sole one assignable,
is in its very realism as much charged with that prime element of Rattcliffian romance,
the mysterious, as any that the ingenuity of the author of the mysteries of Udolfo could devise.
For what can more partake of the mysterious than an antipathy spontaneous and profound,
such as is evoked in certain exceptional mortals by the mere aspect of some other mortal,
however harmless he may be, if not called forth by that very harmlessness itself.
Now there can exist no irritating juxtaposition of dissimilar personalities comparable to that
which is possible aboard a great warship fully manned and at sea. There, every day, among all
ranks, almost every man comes into more or less of contact with almost every other man,
wholly there to avoid even the sight of an aggravating object, one must needs give it Jonah's toss or jump overboard himself.
Imagine how all this might eventually operate on some peculiar human creature of the direct reverse of a saint.
But for the adequate comprehending of Cligert by a normal nature these hints are insufficient.
To pass from a normal nature to him, one must cross the deadly space between, and this is best done by indirection.
long ago an honest scholar, my senior, said to me in reference to one who like himself is now no more,
a man so unimpeachably respectable that against him nothing was ever openly said,
though among the few something was whispered,
yes, X is a nut not to be cracked by the tap of a lady's fan.
You are aware that I am the adherent of no organized religion,
much less of any philosophy built into a system.
Well, for all that, I think that to try and get into X,
enter his labyrinth and get out again, without a clue derived from some source other than what is
known as knowledge of the world, that were hardly possible, at least for me.
Why, said I, X, however singular a study to some, is yet human, and knowledge of the world
assuredly implies the knowledge of human nature, and in most of its varieties. Yes, but a superficial
knowledge of it, serving ordinary purposes. But for anything deeper, I am not certain whether to know
the world and to know human nature be not two distinct branches of knowledge, which, while they may
coexist in the same heart, yet either may exist with little or nothing of the other.
Nay, in an average man of the world, his constant rubbing with it blunts that finds spiritual
insight indispensable to the understanding of the essential and certain exceptional characters,
whether evil ones or good. In a matter of some importance, I have seen a girl whined an old
lawyer about her little finger, nor was it the dotage of senile love.
nothing of the sort, but he knew law better than he knew the girl's heart.
Coke and Blackstone hardly shed so much light into obscure spiritual places as the Hebrew prophets,
and who were they? Mostly recluses.
At the time my inexperience was such that I did not quite see the drift of all this.
It may be that I see it now, and, indeed, if that lexicon which is based on Holy Rit were any longer
popular, one might with less difficulty define and denominate certain phenomenal men.
As it is, one must turn to some authority not liable to the charge of being tinctured with the
biblical element. In a list of definitions included in the authentic translation of Plato,
a list attributed to him occurs this. Natural depravity. A depravity according to nature,
a definition which, though savoring of Calvinism, by no means involves Calvin's dogma as to
total mankind. Evidently its intent makes it applicable but to individuals. Not many are the examples
of this depravity which the gallows and jail supply. At any rate, for notable instances, since these
have no vulgar alloy of the brute in them, but invariably are dominated by intellectuality,
one must go elsewhere. Civilization, especially if of the austereer sort, is auspicious to it.
It folds itself in the mantle of respectability. It has its certain
negative virtues serving as silent auxiliaries. It is not going too far to say that it is without
vices or small sins. There is a phenomenal pride in it that excludes them from anything, never mercenary or
avaricious. In short, the depravity here meant partakes nothing of the sordid or sensual.
It is serious, but free from asserbity, though no flatterer of mankind, it never speaks ill of it.
but the thing which in eminent instances signalizes so exceptional a nature is this.
Though the man's even temper and discreet bearing would seem to intimate a mind peculiarly subject to the law of reason,
not the less in his soul's recesses he would seem to riot in complete exemption from that law,
having apparently little to do with reason further than to employ it as an ambidexter implement for affecting the irrational.
That is to say, toward the accomplishment of an aim which in wantonness of malignity would seem to partake of the insane, he will direct a cool judgment sagacious and sound.
These men are true madmen, and of the most dangerous sort, for their lunacy is not continuous but occasional, evoked by some special object.
It is secretive and self-contained, so that when most active it is to the average mind not distinguished from sanity, and for the reason above suggested,
that whatever its aim may be, and the aim is never disclosed, the method and the outward proceeding
is always perfectly rational. Now something such was Claggart, in whom was the mania of an evil nature,
not engendered by vicious training or corrupting books or licentious living, but born with him an
innate, in short, a depravity according to nature. Can it be this phenomenon, disowned or not
acknowledge that in some criminal cases puzzles the court? For this cause have our
juries at times not only to endure the prolonged contentions of lawyers with their fees,
but also the yet more perplexing strife of the medical experts with theirs.
But why leave it to them? Why not subpoena as well the clerical proficence? Their vocation
bringing them into peculiar contact with so many human beings, and sometimes in their least
guarded hour, in interviews very much more confidential than those of physician and patient.
this would seem to qualify them to know something about those intricacies involved in the question of moral responsibility,
whether in a given case, say, the crime proceeded from mania in the brain or rabies of the heart.
As to any differences among themselves these clerical proficients might develop on the stand,
these could hardly be greater than the direct contradictions exchanged between the remunerated medical experts.
Dark sayings are these, some will say, but why?
It is because they somewhat savor of holy writ in its phrase,
Mysteries of Iniquity.
The point of the story turning on the hidden nature of the master at arms
has necessitated this chapter.
With an added hint or two in connection with the accident of the mess,
the resumed narrative must be left to vindicate as it may its own credibility.
End of Section 4.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Section 5 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville.
Ville. This Libravage recording is in the public domain. Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Chapter 11. Pale ire, envy, and despair. That Clygert's figure was not amiss, and his face,
save the chin, well-moulded, has already been said. Of these favorable points he seemed not insensible,
for he was not only neat but careful in his dress. But the form of Billy Budd was heroism.
and if his face was without the intellectual look of the pallid claggerts,
not the less was it lit, like his, from within, though from a different source.
The bonfire in his heart made luminous the rose tan in his cheek.
In view of the marked contrast between the persons of the twain,
it is more than probable that when the mask-red arms and the scene last given
applied to the sailor the proverb,
Handsome is as handsome does, he there let escape an ironic inkling,
caught by the young sailors who heard it as to what it was that had first moved him against Billy,
namely his significant personal beauty. Now envy and antipathy, passions irreconcilable in reason,
nevertheless in fact may spring conjoined like Chang and Eng in one birth. Is envy then such a monster?
Well, though many an arraigned mortal has in hopes of mitigated penalty pleaded guilty to horrible
actions, did ever anybody seriously confess to envy? Something there is in it universally felt to be
more shameful than even felonious crime, and not only does everybody disown it, but the better sort
are inclined to incredulity when it is in earnest imputed to an intelligent man. But since its
lodgment is in the heart, not the brain, no degree of intellect supplies a guarantee against it.
But Clygerts was no vulgar form of the passion, nor, as directed toward
Billy Budd did it partake of that streak of apprehensive jealousy that marred Saul's visage
perturbably brooding on the comely young David. Cligert's envy struck deeper. If askance he eyed the
good looks cheery health and frank enjoyment of young life in Billy Budd, it was because these happened to go
along with a nature that, as Clygert magnetically felt, had in its simplicity never-willed malice
or experienced the reactionary bite of that serpent. To him the spirit lodged within Billy and
and looking out from his welkin eyes as from windows,
that ineffability which made the dimple in his dyed cheek,
suppled his joints, and danced in his yellow curls,
made him pre-eminently the handsome sailor.
One person accepted, the master at arms,
was perhaps the only man in the ship intellectually capable
of adequately appreciating the moral phenomenon presented in Billy Budd,
and the insight but intensified his passion,
which, assuming various secret forms within him,
at times assumed that of cynic disdain, disdain of innocence.
To be nothing more than innocent.
Yet in an aesthetic way he saw the charm of it,
the courageous free and easy temper of it,
and fain would have shared it, but he despaired of it.
With no power to annul the elemental evil in himself,
though he could hide it readily enough,
apprehending the good but powerless to be it,
what recourse is left to a nature like Clygerts,
surcharged with energy as such nature's almost
invariably are, but to recoil upon itself, and, like the scorpion for which the creator alone
is responsible, act out to the end its allotted part. Passion, and passion in its profoundest,
is not a thing demanding a palatial stage whereon to play its part. Down among the groundlings,
among the beggars and rakers of the garbage, profound passion is enacted, and the circumstances
that provoke it, however trivial or mean, are no measure of its power.
In the present instance the stage is a scrubbed gun deck,
and one of the external provocations a man-of-war's man's spilled soup.
Now when the master at arms noticed whence came that greasy fluid streaming before his feet,
he must have taken it, to some extent willfully perhaps,
not for the mere accident it assuredly was,
but for the sly escape of a spontaneous feeling on Billy's part,
more or less answering to the antipathy on his own.
In effect a foolish demonstration he must have thought,
very harmless, like the futile kick of a heifer, which yet were the heifer a shod stallion,
would not be so harmless. Even so was it that into the gall of envy, Cligard infused the vitriol
of his contempt. But the incident confirmed to him certain tell-tale reports pervade to his ear
by squeak, one of his more cunning corporals, a grizzled little man, so nicknamed by the sailors
on account of his squeaky voice and sharp visage ferreting about the dark corners of the lower decks
after interlopers, satirically suggesting to them the idea of a rat in a cellar.
Now his chiefs employing him as an implicit tool in laying little traps for the worriment of the
foretopman, for it was from the master-at-arms that the petty persecutions heretofore averted
to had proceeded, the corporal, having naturally enough concluded that his master could have no love
for the sailor, made it his business, faithful understrepper that he was, to ferment the ill-blood by
perverting to his chief certain innocent frolics of the good-natured foretopman,
besides inventing for his mouth sundry contumelious epithets he claimed to have overheard him let fall.
The Master at Arms never suspected the veracity of these reports, more especially as to the epithets,
for he well knew how secretly unpopular may become a Master at Arms, at least a Master at Arms in
those days, zealous in his function, and how the Blue Jackets shoot at him in private their
raillery and wit, the nickname by which he goes among them, jemmy legs, implying under the form of
merriment their cherished disrespect and dislike. In view of the greediness of hate for provocation,
it hardly needed a purveyor to feed Clygert's passion. An uncommon prudence is habitual with the
subtler depravity, for it has everything to hide, and in case of any merely suspected injury,
its secretiveness voluntarily cuts it off from enlightenment or disillusion, and not
unreluctantly, action is taken upon surmise as upon certainty, and the retaliation is apt to be
in monstrous disproportion to the supposed offense, for when in anybody was revenge in its exactions
ought else but an inordinate usurer. But how with Cligert's conscience? For though consciences are
unlike his foreheads, every intelligence, not excluding the scriptural devils who believe and
tremble, has one. But Cligert's conscience being but the lawyer to his will, made
ogres of trifles, probably arguing that the motive imputed to Billy in spilling the soup just when he
did, together with the epithets alleged, these, if nothing more, made a strong case against him,
nay, justified animosity into a sort of retributive righteousness.
The Pharisee is the Guy Fawking, prowling in the hid chambers underlying some natures like
Cligerts, and they can really form no conception of an unrerecipricated malice.
Probably the master-at-armed clandestine persecution of Billy was started to try the temper of the man,
but it had not developed any quality in him that enmity could make official use of,
or ever pervert into even plausible self-justification,
so that the occurrence at the mess, petty if it were,
was a welcome one to that peculiar conscience assigned to be the private mentor of Clygert,
and for the rest, not improbably, it put him upon new experiments.
Chapter 12
Not many days after the last incident narrated,
something befell Billy Budd that more gravelled him than ought that had previously occurred.
It was a warm night for the latitude,
and the foretopman, whose watch at the time was properly below,
was dozing on the uppermost deck whither he had ascended from his hot hammock,
one of hundreds suspended so closely wedged together over a lower gun deck
that there was little or no swing to them.
He lay as in the shadow of a hillside stretched under the lee of the booms, a piled ridge of spare spars,
and among which the ship's largest boat the launch was stowed.
Alongside three other slumberers from below, he lay near one end of the booms which approached from the foremast,
his station aloft on duty as a fore-topman being just over the deck station of the four-castleman,
entitling him according to usage to make himself more or less at home in that neighborhood.
Presently he was stirred into semi-consciousness by somebody who must have previously sounded the sleep of the others, touching his shoulder.
And then, as the foretopman raised his head, breathing into his ear in a quick whisper,
slip into the Lee four-chains, Billy, there is something in the wind. Don't speak. Quick. I will meet you there.
And disappeared. Now, Billy, like sundry other essentially good-natured ones,
had some of the weaknesses inseparable from essential good-nature, and among these was a
reluctance, almost an incapacity of plumbly saying no to an abrupt proposition not obviously
absurd on the face of it, nor obviously unfriendly, nor iniquitous. And being of warm blood
had not the phlegm to negate any proposition by unresponsive inaction. Like his sense of
fear, his apprehension as to ought outside of the honest and natural was seldom very quick. Besides,
upon the present occasion the drowse from his sleep still hung upon him. However, at
was, he mechanically rose and sleepily wondering what could be in the wind, betook himself
to the designated place, a narrow platform, one of six, outside of the high bulwarks, and screened
by the great dead eyes and multiple-columned lanyards of the shrouds and backstays, and in a great
warship of that time of dimensions commensurate to the ample hull's magnitude, a tarry balcony,
in short, overhanging the sea, and so secluded that one mariner of the indomitable, a non-conformant
old tar of a serious turn, made it even in daytime his private oratory.
In this retired nook, the stranger soon joined Billy Budd. There was no moon as yet,
a haze obscured the starlight. He could not distinctly see the stranger's face.
Yet from something in the outline and carriage, Billy took him to be, and correctly, one of the
afterguard. Hest, Billy, said the man in the same quick cautionary whisper as before.
You were impressed, weren't you? Well, so was I.
and he paused as to mark the effect.
But Billy, not knowing exactly what to make of this, said nothing.
Then the other.
We are not the only impressed ones, Billy.
There's a gang of us.
Couldn't you help at a pinch?
What do you mean, demanded Billy, here shaking off his drowse.
Hest, hissed.
The hurried whisper now growing husky.
See here, and the man held up two small objects,
faintly twinkling in the night light.
See they are yours, Billy, if you'll be.
only. But Billy broke in, and in his resentful eagerness to deliver himself, his vocal infirmity
somewhat intruded. D-Dammy, I don't know what you were driving at or what you mean, but you had
better go where you belong. For the moment, the fellow, as confounded, did not stir, and Billy,
springing to his feet, said, If you don't start, I'll toss you back over the rail.
There was no mistaking this, and the mysterious emissary decamped,
disappearing in the direction of the mainmast in the shadow of the booms.
Hello, what's the matter?
Here came growling from a four-castleman awakened from his deck-dose by Billy's raised voice,
and as the foretopman reappeared and was recognized by him,
ah, beauty, is it you?
Well, something must have been the matter, for you stuttered.
Oh, rejoined Billy, now mastering the impediment.
I found an afterguardsman in our part of the ship here, and I bid him be off where he belongs.
"'And is that all you did about it, Fort Topman?'
"'Gruffly demanded another, an irascible old fellow of brick-colored visage and hair,
"'and who was known to his associate forecastleman as Red Pepper.
"'Such sneaks I should like to marry to the gunner's daughter,
"'by that expression meaning that he would like to subject them to disciplinary castigation over a gun.
"'However, Billy's rendering of the matter satisfactorily accounted to these inquirers for the brief commotion,
"'since of all the sections of a ship's company the forecastleman,
Veterans, for the most part, and bigoted in their sea prejudices,
are the most jealous in resenting territorial encroachments,
especially on the part of any of the afterguard of whom they have but a sorry opinion,
chiefly landsmen, never going aloft except to re-for-ferral the mainsail,
and in no wise competent to handle a marling spike or turn in a dead-eye, say.
End of Section 5, recording by Scientific Methodist.
Section 6 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Chapter 13
This incident sorely puzzled Billy Budd.
It was an entirely new experience,
the first time in his life that he had ever been personally approached
in underhand intriguing fashion.
Prior to this encounter, he had known nothing of the after-guardsman.
the two men being stationed wide apart, one forward and aloft during his watch, the other on deck, and aft.
What could it mean? And could they really be guineas, those two glittering objects the interloper had held up to his, Billy's eyes?
Where could the fellow get guineas? Why, even buttons, spare buttons, are not so plentiful at sea.
The more he turned the matter over, the more he was nonplussed, and made uneasy and discomforted.
In his disgustful recoil from an overture which though he but ill-comprehended he instinctively knew must involve evil of some sort,
Billy Budd was like a young horse fresh from the pasture suddenly inhaling a vile whiff from some chemical factory,
and by repeated snortings tries to get it out of his nostrils and lungs.
This frame of mind barred all desire of holding further parlay with the fellow,
even were it but for the purpose of gaining some enlightenment as to his design in a
approaching him. And yet he was not without natural curiosity to see how such a visitor in the
dark would look in broad day. He espied him the following afternoon in his first dog watch below,
one of the smokers on that forward part of the upper gun deck allotted to the pipe. He recognized him
by his general cut and build more than by his round, freckled face and glassy eyes of pale blue
veiled with lashes all but white. And yet Billy was a bit uncertain whether indeed it were he,
yonder chap about his own age, chatting and laughing in free-hearted way, leaning against a gun,
a genial young fellow enough to look at, and something of a rattlebrain to all appearance.
Rather chubby, too, for a sailor, even an after-guardsman.
In short, the last man in the world one would think to be overburdened with thoughts,
especially those perilous thoughts that must needs belong to a conspirator in any serious project,
or even to the underling of such a conspirator.
Although Billy was not aware of it, the fellow with a sidelong watchful glance had perceived Billy first,
and then noting that Billy was looking at him, thereupon nodded a familiar sort of friendly recognition as to an old acquaintance,
without interrupting the talk he was engaged in with the group of smokers.
A day or two afterwards, chancing in the evening promenade on a gun deck to pass Billy,
he offered a flying word of good fellowship, as it were, which by its unexpectedness and equivocalness under the circumstances,
so embarrassed Billy that he knew not how to respond to it and let it go unnoticed.
Billy was now left more at a loss than before. The ineffectual speculations into which he was led
were so disturbingly alien to him that he did his best to smother them. It never entered his mind that
here was a matter which, from its extreme questionableness, it was his duty as a loyal bluejacket
to report in the proper quarter. And, probably, had such a step been suggested to him, he would have been
deterred from taking it by the thought, one of novice magnanimity, that it would savor over much
of the dirty work of a tell-tale. He kept the thing to himself. Yet upon one occasion he could not
forbear a little disburdening himself to the old Dansker, tempted ther too, perhaps by the influence
of a balmy night when the ship lay becalmed. The twain, silent for the most part, sitting together
on deck, their heads propped against the bulwarks. But it was only a partial and anonymous account that
Billy gave, the unfounded scruples above referred to, preventing full disclosure to anybody.
Upon hearing Billy's version, the sage Dancer seemed to divine more than he was told, and after a little
meditation, during which his wrinkles were pursed as into a point, quite effacing for the time that
quizzing expression his face sometimes wore, didn't I say so, baby bud?
Say what? demanded Billy. Why, jemmy legs is down on you. And what, rejoined Billy in amazement,
has jemmy legs to do with that cracked afterguardsman.
Ho, it was an afterguardsman then, a cat's paw, a cat's paw.
And with that exclamation, which whether it had reference to a light puff of air
just then coming over the calm sea, or subtler relation to the afterguardsman,
there is no telling. The old Merlin gave a twisting wrench with his black teeth at his
plug of tobacco, vouchsafing no reply to Billy's impetuous question, for it was his want
to relapse into grim silence when interrogated in skeptical sort as to any of his sententious oracles,
not always very clear ones, rather partaking of that obscurity which invests most Delphic
Deliverances from any quarter. Chapter 14
Long experience had very likely brought this old man to that bitter prudence which never
interferes in aught and never gives advice. Yet despite the Dansker's pithy insistence as to the
master-at-arms being at the bottom of these strange experiences of Billy on board the
indomitable, the young sailor was ready to ascribe them to almost anybody but the man who,
to use Billy's own expression, always had a pleasant word for him. This is to be wondered at,
yet not so much to be wondered at. In certain matters, some sailors, even in mature life, remain
unsophisticated enough. But a young seafarer of the disposition of our athletic Fort Topman
is much of a child man. And yet a child's utter innocence is but its blank ignorance,
and the innocence more or less wanes as intelligence waxes. But in Billy Budd,
intelligence, such as it was, had advanced, while yet his simple-mindedness remained for the
most part unaffected. Experience is a teacher indeed, yet did Billy's years make his experience
small? Besides, he had none of that intuitive knowledge of the bad which in nature's not good
or incompletely so, forrun's experience, and therefore may pertain as in some instances it too clearly
does pertain, even to youth. And what could Billy know of man except of man as a mere sailor,
and the old-fashioned sailor, the veritable man before the mast, the sailor from boyhood up,
he, though indeed of the same species as a landsman, is in some respects singularly distinct from him.
The sailor is frankness, the landsman is finesse. Life is not a game with the sailor,
demanding the long head. No intricate game of chess where few moves are made in straightforwardness,
but ends are attained by indirection. An oblique, tedious, barren game hardly worth that poor
candle burnt out in playing it. Yet, as a class, sailors are in character a juvenile race.
Even their deviations are marked by juvenility, and this more especially holding true with the
sailors of Billy's time. Then, too, certain things which apply to all sailors do more pointedly
operate here and there upon the junior one. Every sailor, too, is accustomed to obey orders
without debating them. His life afloat is externally ruled for him. He is not brought into that
promiscuous commerce with mankind where unobstructed free agency on equal terms, equal superficially,
at least, soon teaches one that unless upon occasion he exercises a distrust keen in
proportion to the fairness of the appearance, some foul turn may be served him. A ruled, undemonstrative
distrustfulness is so habitual, not with businessmen so much as with men who know their kind in less
shallow relations than business, namely certain men of the world that they come at last to employ it
all but unconsciously, and some of them would very likely feel real surprise at being charged with it
as one of their general characteristics. Chapter 15
But after the little matter at the mess, Billy Budd no more found himself in strange trouble at times about his hammock or his clothesbag or whatnot.
While, as to that smile that occasionally sunned him and the pleasant passing word,
these were, if not more frequent, yet if anything more pronounced than before.
But for all that, there were certain other demonstrations now.
When Claggart's unobserved glance happened to light on belted Billy rolling along the upper gun deck in the leisure of the second dog watch,
exchanging passing broadsides of fun with other young promenaders in the crowd,
that glance would follow the cheerful Sea Hyperion with a settled meditative and melancholy expression.
His eyes strangely suffused with incipient feverish tears.
Then would Cligert look like the man of sorrows.
Yes, and sometimes the melancholy expression would have in it a touch of soft yearning,
as if Cligert could even have loved Billy but for fate and ban.
But this was an evanescence, and quickly repenting.
of, as it were, by an immitigable look pinching and shriveling the visage into the momentary
semblance of a wrinkled walnut. But sometimes catching sight in advance of the Fort Topman
coming in his direction, he would, upon their nearing, step aside a little to let him pass,
dwelling upon Billy for the moment with the glittering dental satire of a guise.
But upon any abrupt, unforeseen encounter, a red light would flash forth from his eye,
like a spark from an anvil in a dusk smithy. That quick fiercely, fiercely,
light was a strange one, darted from
orbs which in repose were of a color
nearest approaching a deeper violet,
the softest of shades.
Though some of these caprices of the
pit could not but be observed by their
object, yet were they beyond the
construing of such a nature, and
the fuse of Billy were hardly comparable
with that sort of sensitive,
spiritual organization which in some
cases instinctively conveys to ignorant
innocence and admonition of the
proximity of the malign. He thought the
master at arms acted in
in a manner rather queer at times. That was all. But the occasional frank air and pleasant word
went for what they purported to be, the young sailor, never having heard as yet of the too-fair-spoken man.
Had the fortopman been conscious of having done or said anything to provoke the ill-will of the
official, it would have been different with him, and his sight might have been pursed, if not
sharpened. So was it with him in yet another matter. Two minor officers, the armorer and captain of the
hold, with whom he had never exchanged a word, his position on the ship not bringing him into contact
with them, these men now, for the first time began to cast upon Billy, when they chanced to
encounter him, that peculiar glance which evidences that the man from whom it comes has been
some way tampered with, and to the prejudice of him upon whom the glance lights. Never did it occur to
Billy as a thing to be noted, or a thing suspicious, though he well knew the fact that the
armorer and captain of the hold, with the ship's yeoman, apothecary, and others of that
grade, were by naval usage messmates of the master at arms, men with ears convenient to
his confidential tongue. Our handsome sailors' manly forwardness upon occasion, an irresistible
good nature, indicating no mental superiority tending to excite an invidious feeling bred general
popularity, and this goodwill on the part of most of his shipmates made him the less to concern
himself about such mute aspects toward him as those where to allusion has just been made.
As to the after-guardsman, though Billy, for reasons already given, necessarily saw little of him,
yet when the two did happen to meet, invariably came the fellow's offhand cheerful recognition,
sometimes accompanied by a passing pleasant word or two.
Whatever that equivocal young person's original design may really have been, or the
the design of which he might have been the deputy, certain it was from his manner upon these
occasions that he had wholly dropped it. It was as if his precocity of crookedness, and every vulgar
villain is precocious, had for once deceived him, and the man he had sought to entrap as a simpleton
had, through his very simplicity, baffled him. But shrewd ones may opine that it was hardly possible
for Billy to refrain from going up to the after-guardsman and bluntly demanding to know his
purpose in the initial interview, so abruptly closed in the forechains. Shrewd ones may also think it
but natural in Billy to set about sounding some of the other impressed men of the ship in order
to discover what basis, if any, there was for the emissary's obscure suggestions as to plotting
disaffection aboard. Yes, the shrewd may think so, but something more, or rather, something else than
mere shrewdness is perhaps needful for the due understanding of such a character as Billy Budd's.
As to Cligert, the monomania in the man, if that indeed it were, as involuntarily disclosed by starts in the manifestations detailed, yet in general covered over by his self-contained and rational demeanor, this, like a subterranean fire was eating its way deeper and deeper in him, something decisive must come of it.
End of Section 6.
Recording by Scientific Methodist
Section 7 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville
This Libravox recording is in the public domain
Recording by Scientific Methodist
Chapter 16
After the mysterious interview in the four chains
The one so abruptly ended there by Billy
Nothing especially germane to the story occurred
until the events now about to be narrated
Elsewhere it has been said that owing to the lack of frigates
of course better sailors than line of battleships, in the English squadron up the straits at that
period, the indomitable 74 was occasionally employed not only as an available substitute for a scout,
but at times on detached service of more important kind. This was not alone because of her sailing
qualities, not common in a ship of her rate, but quite as much probably that the character
of her commander it was thought, specially adapted him for any duty where under unforeseen difficulties
a prompt initiative might have to be taken in some matter demanding knowledge and ability
in addition to those qualities employed in good seamanship.
It was on an expedition of the latter sort, a somewhat distant one,
and when the indomitable was almost at her furthest removed from the fleet,
that in the latter part of an afternoon watch she unexpectedly came in sight of a ship of the enemy.
It proved to be a frigate.
The latter, perceiving through the glass that the weight of men in metal would be heavily against her,
invoking her light heels, crowded sail to get away. After a chase urged almost against hope,
and lasting until about the middle of the first dog watch, she signally succeeded in affecting her
escape. Not long after the pursuit had been given up, an air the excitement incident thereto
had altogether waned away, the master at arms, ascending from his cavernous sphere, made his
appearance cap in hand by the mainmast, respectfully waiting the notice of Captain Veer, then solitary
walking the weather side of the quarter-deck, doubtless somewhat chafed at the failure of the pursuit.
The spot where Clygert stood was the place allotted to men of lesser grades, seeking some more
particular interview either with the officer of the deck or the captain himself. But from the latter,
it was not often that a sailor or petty officer of those days would seek a hearing. Only some
exceptional cause would, according to established custom, have warranted that. Presently, just as the
commander absorbed in his reflections was on the point of turning aft in his promenade, he became
sensible of Cligert's presence, and saw the doffed cap held in deferential expectancy. Here be it said
that Captain Veer's personal knowledge of this petty officer had only begun at the time of the
ship's last sailing from home. Claggart then for the first in transfer from a ship detained for
repairs, supplying on board the indomitable, the place of a previous master at arms disabled and
ashore. No sooner did the commander observe who it was that now so deferentially stood awaiting
his notice, than a peculiar expression came over his face. It was not unlike that which uncontrollably
will flit across the countenance of one at unawares encountering a person who, though known to him
indeed has hardly been long enough known for thorough knowledge, but something in whose aspect
nevertheless now for the first provokes a vaguely repellent distaste. But coming to a stand,
and, in resuming much of his wanted official manner,
save that a sort of impatience lurked in the intonation of the opening word,
he said,
Well, what is it, Master at Arms?
With the air of a subordinate grieved at the necessity of being a messenger of ill tidings,
and while conscientiously determined to be frank,
yet equally resolved upon shunning overstatement,
Claggart at this invitation, or rather summons to disburden, spoke up.
What he said, conveyed in the language of no uneducated man,
was to the effect following, if not altogether in these words, namely, that during the chase and
preparations for the possible encounter he had seen enough to convince him that at least one sailor
aboard was a dangerous character in a ship mustering some who not only had taken a guilty
part in the late serious trouble, but others also who, like the man in question, had entered
his majesty's service under another form than enlistment. At this point, Captain Veer, with some
impatience interrupted him. Be direct, man, say, impressed men. Cligert made a gesture of subservience
and proceeded. Quite lately, he, Clygert, had begun to suspect that some sort of movement prompted
by the sailor in question was covertly going on, but he had not thought himself warranted in
reporting the suspicion so long as it remained indistinct. But from what he had that afternoon
observed in the man referred to, the suspicion of something clandestine going on had advanced to a point
less removed from certainty. He deeply felt, he added, the serious responsibility assumed in making a
report involving such possible consequences to the individual mainly concerned, besides tending to augment
those natural anxieties which every naval commander must feel in view of extraordinary outbreaks
so recent as those, which, he sorrowfully said it, it needed not to name. Now at the first
broaching of the matter, Captain Veer, taken by surprise, could not wholly dissemble his disquietude.
But as Clygert went on, the former's aspect changed into restiveness under something in the
testifier's manner in giving his testimony.
However, he refrained from interrupting him, and Clygert, continuing, concluded with this.
God forbid your honor that the indomitable should be the experience of the...
Never mind that!
Here peremptorily broke in the superior, his face altering with anger instantly, divining the ship
that the other was about to name, one in which the Norr mutiny had assumed a singularly
tragical character that for a time jeopardized the life of its commander.
Under the circumstances, he was indignant at the purposed illusion.
When the commissioned officers themselves were on all occasions very heedful how they referred
to the recent event, for a petty officer unnecessarily to allude to it in the presence of
his captain, this struck him as a most immodest presumption.
Besides, to his quick sense of self-respect, it even looked under the circumstances something
like an attempt to alarm him.
nor at that was he without some surprise that one who so far as he had hitherto come under his notice
had shown considerable tact in his function should in this particular evince such lack of it.
But these thoughts and kindred dubious ones flitting across his mind were suddenly replaced by an
intuitional surmise, which though as yet obscure in form, served practically to affect his reception
of the ill tidings. Certain it is that long-versed in everything pertaining to the complicated
gun-deck life, which like every other form of life has its secret minds and dubious side,
the side popularly disclaimed, Captain Veer did not permit himself to be unduly disturbed by the
general tenor of his subordinates' report. Furthermore, if in view of recent events, prompt
action should be taken at the first palpable sign of recurring insubordination, for all that,
not judicious would it be, he thought, to keep the idea of lingering disaffection alive
by undue forwardness in crediting an informer, even if his own subordinate, and charged among other
honors with police surveillance of the crew. This feeling would not perhaps have so prevailed with him,
were it not that upon a prior occasion the patriotic zeal officially evinced by Clygert
had somewhat irritated him as appearing rather super-sensitive and strained.
Furthermore, something even in the officials' self-possessed and somewhat ostentatious manner
in making his specifications strangely reminded him of a bandsman,
a perjured witness in a capital case before a court-martial ashore of which when a lieutenant, he, Captain Veer, had been a member.
Now the peremptory check given to Claggart in the matter of the arrested illusion was quickly followed up by this.
You say that there is at least one dangerous man aboard. Name him. William Bud, a foretopman, your honor.
William Bud, repeated Captain Veer with unfeigned astonishment.
And mean you the man that Lieutenant Ratcliffe took from the merchant.
merchantman not very long ago, the young fellow who seems to be so popular with the men, Billy,
the handsome sailor, as they call him? The same, Your Honor, but for all his youth and good looks,
a deep one. Not for nothing does he insinuate himself into the goodwill of his shipmates,
since at the least they will at a pinch say a good word for him at all hazards.
Did Lieutenant Ratcliffe happen to tell Your Honor of that adroit fling of buds,
jumping up in the Cutter's bow under the merchantman's stern when he was being taken off?
That sort of good-humoured air even masks that at heart he resents his impressment.
You have but noted his fair cheek.
A man-trap may be under his ruddy-tipped daisies.
Now the handsome sailor, as a signal figure among the crew,
had naturally enough attracted the captain's attention from the first.
Though in general not very demonstrative to his officers,
he had congratulated Lieutenant Ratcliffe upon his good fortune
in lighting on such a fine specimen of the genus Homo,
who in the nude might have passed for a,
statue of young Adam before the fall. As to Billy's adieu to the ship, rights of man,
which the boarding lieutenant in a deferential way, had indeed reported to him, Captain Veer,
more as a good story than ought else, having mistakenly understood it as a satiric sally,
had but thought so much the better of the impressed man for it, as a military sailor,
admiring the spirit that could take an arbitrary enlistment so merrily and sensibly.
The Fort Topman's conduct, too, so far as it had fallen under the
the captain's notice had confirmed the first happy augury, while the new recruits' qualities as a sailor man
seemed to be such that he had thought of recommending him to the executive officer for promotion
to a place that would more frequently bring him under his own observation, namely the captaincy of the
mizzen-top, replacing there in the Starboard Watch a man not so young whom, partly for that
reason he deemed less fitted for the post. Be it parenthesized here that since the mizontotman have not to handle
such breadth of heavy canvas as the lower sails on the mainmast and foremast,
a young man, if of the right stuff, not only seems best adapted to duty there,
but in fact is generally selected for the captaincy of that top,
and the company under him are light hands, and often but striplings.
In some, Captain Veer had, from the beginning, deemed Billy Budd to be what in the naval
parlance of the time was called a king's bargain, that is to say, for his Britannic Majesty's
Navy, a capital investment at small outlay, or none at all.
After a brief pause during which the reminiscences above mentioned passed vividly through
his mind, he weighed the import of Clygert's last suggestion conveyed in the phrase,
a man-trap under his ruddy-tipped daisies, and the more he weighed it, the less reliance he felt
in the informer's good faith. Suddenly he turned upon him,
Do you come to me, master at arms, with so foggy a tale? As to bud, cite me an act or
spoken word of his confirmatory of what you in general charge against him. Stay, drawing nearer to him,
heed what you speak. Just now, and in a case like this, there is a yard-arm end for the false witness.
Ah, your honor, sighed Cleggart, mildly shaking his shapely head as in sad deprecation of such
unmerited severity of tone. Then bridling, erecting himself as in virtuous self-assertion,
he circumstantially alleged certain words and acts which collect.
if credited, led to presumptions mortally inculpating bud, and for some of these averments,
he added, substantiating proof was not far. With gray eyes impatient and distrustful, as saying to fathom
to the bottom, Clygert's calm violet ones, Captain Veer again heard him out. Then for the moment
stood ruminating. The mood he evinced, Cligert, himself for the time liberated from the other's
scrutiny, steadily regarded with a look difficult to render. A look to look
curious of the operation of his tactics, a look such as might have been that of the spokesman
of the envious children of Jacob, deceptively imposing upon the troubled patriarch the blood-died
coat of young Joseph. Though something exceptional in the moral quality of Captain Veer made him,
in earnest encounter with a fellow man, a veritable touchstone of that man's essential nature,
yet now as to Clygert and what was really going on in him, his feeling partook less of
intuition than of strong suspicion clogged by strange dubieties.
The perplexity he evinced proceeded less from ought touching the man informed against,
as Claggart doubtless opined, than from considerations how best to act in regard to the informer.
At first, indeed, he was naturally for summoning that substantiation of his allegations which
Clagert said was at hand.
But such a proceeding would result in the matter at once getting abroad, which in the present
stage of it, he thought, might undesirably affect the ship's company. If Clygert was a false witness,
that closed the affair. And therefore, before trying the accusation, he would first practically
test the accuser, and he thought this could be done in a quiet, undemonstrative way.
The measure he determined upon involved a shifting of the scene, a transfer to a place
less exposed to observation than the broad quarter-deck, for although the few gun-room
officers there at the time had, in due observance of naval etiquette, withdrawn to leeward the moment
Captain Veer had begun his promenade on the deck's weatherside, and though during the colloquy
with Claggart they, of course, ventured not to diminish the distance, and though throughout the
interview Captain Veer's voice was far from high, and Claggart's silvery and low, and the wind in
the cordage and the wash of the sea helped the more to put them beyond earshot. Nevertheless,
the interview's continuance already had attracted observation from some
topmen aloft, and other sailors in the waist or farther forward.
Having determined upon his measures, Captain Veer forthwith took action.
Abruptly turning to Claggart, he asked,
Master at Arms, is it now Bud's watch aloft?
No, Your Honor.
Whereupon Mr. Wilkes, summoning the nearest midshipman,
tell Albert to come to me.
Albert was the captain's hammock boy, a sort of sea valet,
in whose discretion and fidelity his master had much confidence.
The lad appeared.
You know, Bud, the foretopman?
I do, sir. Go find him. It is his watch-off.
Managed to tell him out of earshot that he is wanted aft.
Contrive it that he speaks to nobody.
Keep him in talk yourself.
And not till you get well aft here, not till then let him know that the place where he is wanted is my cabin.
You understand? Go.
Master at arms, show yourself on the decks below,
and when you think at time for Albert to be coming with his man, stand by quietly to follow the sailor.
in. Chapter 17. Now when the Fortopman found himself closeted, as it were, in the cabin with the
captain in Clygert, he was surprised enough. But it was a surprise unaccompanied by apprehension or
distrust. To an immature nature, essentially honest and humane, forewarning intimations of a
subtler danger from one's kind came tardily, if at all. The only thing that took shape in the young
sailor's mind was this. Yes, the captain I have always thought, looks kindly upon me.
Wonder if he's going to make me as coxen. I should like that. And maybe now he is going to ask the
Master at Arms about me. Shut the door there, sentry, said the commander. Stand without and let
nobody come in. Now Master at Arms, tell this man to his face what you told of him to me,
and stood prepared to scrutinize the mutually confronting visages. With the measured step and calm
collected air of an asylum physician approaching in the public hall some patient beginning to show
indications of a coming paroxysm, Cligert deliberately advanced within short range of Billy,
and mesmerically looking him in the eye, briefly recapitulated the accusation. Not at first did
Billy take it in. When he did, the rose tan of his cheek looked struck as by white leprosy.
He stood like one impaled and gagged. Meanwhile, the accuser's eyes, removing not as yet from the blue
dilated ones, underwent a phenomenal change, their wanted rich violet color blurring into a muddy purple,
those lights of human intelligence losing human expression, gelidly protruding like the alien eyes of
certain uncatalogued creatures of the deep. The first mesmeric glance was one of surprised
fascination, the last was as the hungry lurch of the torpedo fish. Speak man, said Captain Veer to
the transfixed one, struck by his aspect even more than by Cliger.
speak, defend yourself. Which appeal caused but a strange, dumb, gesturing, and gurgling in Billy,
amazement at such an accusation so suddenly sprung on inexperienced nonage, this, and it may be
horror at the accuser, serving to bring out his lurking defect, and in this instance, for the time
intensifying it into a convulsed tongue-tie, while the intent had an entire form,
straining forward in an agony of ineffectual eagerness to obey the injunction to speak and defend
himself, gave an expression to the face like that of a condemned vestal priestess in the moment of
being buried alive and in the first struggle against suffocation. Though at the time Captain Veer
was quite ignorant of Billy's liability to vocal impediment, he now immediately divined it,
since vividly Billy's aspect recalled to him that of a bright young schoolmate of his whom he
had seen struck by much the same startling impotence in the act of eagerly rising in the class
to be foremost in response to a testing question put to it by the master.
Going close up to the young sailor and laying a soothing hand on his shoulder, he said,
there is no hurry, my boy, take your time, take your time.
Contrary to the effect intended, these words so fatherly in tone, doubtless touching Billy's
heart to the quick, prompted yet more violent efforts at utterance, efforts soon ending for the time
in confirming the paralysis, and bringing to the face an expression which was as a crucifixion
to behold. The next instant, quick as the flame from a discharged cannon at night, his right
arm shot out, and Cleggart dropped to the deck. Whether intentionally or but owing to the young
athlete's superior height, the blow had taken effect full upon the forehead, so shapely and intellectual
looking a feature in the master at arms, so that the body fell over lengthwise, like a heavy plank
tilted from erectness. A gasp or two, and he lay motionless. Fated boy, breathed.
Captain Veer and toned so low as to be almost a whisper,
What have you done?
But here, help me.
The twain raised the felled one from the loins up into a sitting position.
The spare form flexibly acquiesced, but inertly.
It was like handling a dead snake.
They lowered it back.
Regaining erectness, Captain Veer with one hand covering his face,
stood to all appearance as impassive as the object at his feet.
Was he absorbed in taking in all the bearings of the event,
and what was best not only now at once to be done, but also in the sequel.
Slowly he uncovered his face, and the effect was as if the moon emerging from eclipse
should reappear with quite another aspect than that which had gone into hiding.
The father and him, manifested towards Billy thus far in the scene, was replaced by the
military disciplinarian. In his official tone he bade the Fort Topman retire to a state-room aft,
pointing it out, and there remained till thence summoned.
This order Billy in silence mechanically obeyed.
Then going to the cabin door where it opened on the quarter-deck,
Captain Veer said to the sentry without,
Tell somebody to send Albert here.
When the lad appeared, his master so contrived it that he should not catch sight of the prone one.
Albert, he said to him, tell the surgeon I wish to see him.
You need not come back till called.
When the surgeon entered, a self-poised character of that grave sense and experience
that hardly anything could take him aback, Captain Veer advanced to meet him,
thus unconsciously interrupting his view of Claggart, and interrupting the other's wanted ceremonious salutation,
said, Nay, tell me how it is with yonder man, directing his attention to the prostrate one.
The surgeon looked, and for all his self-command, somewhat started at the abrupt revelation.
On Claggart's always pallid complexion, thick black blood was now oozing from mouth and ear,
To the gazer's professional eyes it was unmistakably no living man that he saw.
Is it so, then, said Captain Veer, intently watching him?
I thought it, but verify it.
Whereupon the customary tests confirmed the surgeon's first glance,
who now looking up in unfeigned concern,
cast a look of intense inquisitiveness upon his superior.
But Captain Veer, with one hand to his brow, was standing motionless.
Suddenly, catching the surgeon's arm convulsively, he exclaimed,
pointing down to the body,
it is the divine judgment of Ananias, look!
Disturbed by the excited manner
he had never before observed in the Indomitable's captain,
and as yet wholly ignorant of the affair,
the prudent surgeon nevertheless held his peace,
only again looking in earnest interrogation
as to what it was that had resulted in such a tragedy.
But Captain Veer was now again motionless,
standing absorbed in thought.
But again starting, he vehemently exclaimed,
struck dead by an angel of God, yet the angel must hang. At these interjections, incoherences to the listener
as yet unapprised of the antecedent event, the surgeon was profoundly discomforted. But now, as
recollecting himself, Captain Veer in less harsh tone briefly related the circumstances leading
up to the event. But come, we must dispatch, he added, help me to remove him, meaning the body,
to yonder compartment, designating one opposite where the foretimore. Designating one opposite where the
for Topman remained immured.
A new disturbed by a request that, as implying a desire for secrecy, seemed unaccountably strange
to him, there was nothing for the subordinate to do but comply.
Go now, said Captain Veer, with something of his wanted manner, go now.
I shall presently call a drumhead court.
Tell the lie lie lie lie Mr. Morton, meaning the captain of Marines, and charge them to
keep the matter to themselves.
Full of disquietude and misgivings, the surgeon left,
the cabin. Was Captain Veer suddenly affected in his mind, or was it but a transient excitement brought
about by so strange and extraordinary a happening? As to the drumhead court, it struck the surgeon
as impolitic, if nothing more. The thing to do, he thought, was to place Billy Budd in confinement,
and in a way dictated by usage, and postpone further action in so extraordinary a case to such
time as they should again join the squadron, and then transfer it to the admiral. He recalled the
unwanted agitation of Captain Veer and his excited exclamations, so at variance with his normal manner.
Was he unhinged? But assuming that he was, it were not so susceptible of proof. What then could he do?
No more trying situation is conceivable than that of an officer subordinated under a captain
whom he suspect to be, not mad indeed, but yet not quite unaffected in his intellect.
To argue his order to him would be insolence. To resist him would be mutiny.
In obedience to Captain Veer, he communicated to the lieutenants and Captain of Marines what had happened, saying nothing as to the Captain's state.
They stared at him in surprise and concern.
Like him, they seemed to think that such a matter should be reported to the Admiral.
Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins?
Distinctly, we see the difference of the color, but where exactly does the first one visibly enter into the other?
so with sanity and insanity.
In pronounced cases there is no question about them,
but in some cases, in various degrees supposedly less pronounced,
to draw the line of demarcation few will undertake,
though for a fee some professional experts will.
There is nothing namable but that some men will undertake to do for pay.
In other words, there are instances where it is next to impossible
to determine whether a man is sane or beginning to be otherwise.
Whether Captain Veer, as the surgeon professionally surmised, was really the sudden victim of any degree of aberration, one must determine for himself by such light as this narrative may afford.
End of Section 7. Recording by Scientific Methodist
Section 8 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville. This Librevox recording is in the public domain.
Recording by Scientific Methodist
Chapter 18
The unhappy event which has been narrated could not have happened at a worse juncture,
for it was close on the heel of the suppressed insurrections,
an after-time very critical to naval authority,
demanding from every English sea commander two qualities not readily interfusable,
prudence and rigor.
Moreover, there was something crucial in the case.
In the jugglery of circumstances proceeding and attending the event
on board the indomitable, and in the light of that martial code whereby it was formally to be judged,
innocence and guilt, personified in Cligert and Bud, in effect, changed places.
In the legal view, the apparent victim of the tragedy was he who had sought to victimize a man
blameless, and the indisputable deed of the latter, navely regarded, constituted the most
heinous of military crimes, yet more. The essential right and wrong involved in the matter,
the clearer that might be, so much the worse for the responsibility of a loyal sea commander,
inasmuch as he was authorized to determine the matter on that primitive legal basis.
Small wonder then that the indomitable's captain, though in general a man of rigid decision,
felt that circumspectness not less than promptitude was necessary,
until he could decide upon his course, and in each detail and not only so,
but until the concluding measure was upon the point of being enacted,
he deemed it advisable, in view of all the circumstances,
to guard as much as possible against publicity.
Here he may or may not have erred.
Certain it is, however, that subsequently in the confidential talk
of more than one or two gun rooms and cabins he was not a little criticized by some officers,
a fact imputed by his friends and vehemently by his cousin Jack Denton,
to professional jealousy of his own.
Starry Veer. Some imaginative ground for invidious comment there was. The maintenance of secrecy in the
matter, the confining all knowledge of it for a time to the place where the homicide occurred,
the quarter-deck cabin, in these particulars lurked some resemblance to the policy adopted
in those tragedies of the palace which have occurred more than once in the capital founded by Peter
the barbarian, great chiefly by his crimes. The case was such that fain would the indomitable's
captain have deferred taking any action whatever, respecting it further than to keep the foretopman
a close prisoner till the ship rejoined the squadron, and then submitting the matter to the judgment of
his admiral. But a true military officer is in one particular, like a true monk. Not with more of
self-abnegation will the latter keep his vows of monastic obedience than the former his vows of
allegiance to martial duty. Feeling that unless quick action was taken on it, the deed of the fortatman,
as soon as it should be known on the gun decks,
would tend to awaken any slumbering embers of the noor among the crew,
a sense of the urgency of the case overruled in Captain Veer every other consideration.
But though a conscientious disciplinarian he was no lover of authority for mere authority's sake,
very far was he from embracing opportunities for monopolizing to himself the perils of moral responsibility,
none at least that could properly be referred to an official superior,
or shared with him by his official equals or even subordinates.
So thinking, he was glad it would not be at variance with usage to turn the matter over to a summary
court of his own officers, reserving to himself, as the one on whom the ultimate accountability
would rest, the right of maintaining a supervision of it, or formally or informally interposing
at need. Accordingly, a drumhead court was summarily convened, he electing the individuals
composing it, the First Lieutenant, the Captain of Marines, and the Sailing Master.
In associating an officer of Marines with the sea lieutenant in a case having to do with a sailor,
the commander perhaps deviated from general custom. He was prompted thereto by the circumstance
that he took that soldier to be a judicious person, thoughtful and not altogether incapable
of grappling with a difficult case unprecedented in his prior experience. Yet even as to him,
he was not without some latent misgiving, for withal he was an extremely good-natured man,
an enjoyer of his dinner, a sound sleeper, and inclined to obesity.
The sort of man who, though he would always maintain his manhood in battle,
might not prove altogether reliable in a moral dilemma involving aught of the tragic.
As to the first lieutenant and the sailing master, Captain Veer could not but be aware that,
though honest natures of approved gallantry upon occasion, their intelligence would,
was mostly confined to the matter of active seamanship and the fighting demands of their profession.
The court was held in the same cabin where the unfortunate affair had taken place.
This cabin, the commanders, embraced the entire area under the poop deck.
Aft and on either side was a small state room, the one room temporarily a jail, and the other a dead house,
and a yet smaller compartment leaving a space between, expanding forward into a goodly oblong of length
coinciding with the ship's beam. A skylight of moderate dimensions was overhead, and at each end of
the oblong space were two sashed porthole windows easily convertible back into embrasures for short carronades.
All being quickly in readiness, Billy Budd was arraigned, Captain Veer necessarily appearing as the
sole witness in the case, and as such temporarily sinking his rank, though singularly maintaining it
in a matter apparently trivial, namely, that he testified from the ship's weather
side, with that object having caused the court to sit on the lee side.
Concisely he narrated all that had led up to the catastrophe,
omitting nothing in Clygert's accusation, and deposing as to the manner in which the prisoner
had received it. At this testimony, the three officers glanced with no little surprise at
Billy Budd, the last man they would have suspected, either of mutinous design alleged by
Cligert, or of the undeniable deed he himself had done. The first lieutenant taking judicial
primary, and turning toward the prisoner, said,
Captain Veer has spoken, is it or is it not, as Captain Veer says?
In response came syllables not so much impeded in the utterance as might have been anticipated.
They were these.
Captain Veer tells the truth.
It is just as Captain Veer says, but it is not, as the master at arms said.
I have eaten the king's bread, and I am true to the king.
I believe you, my man, said the witness, his voice indicating a suppressed emotion not
otherwise betrayed. God will bless you for that, Your Honor. Not without stammering, said Billy,
and all but broke down. But immediately was recalled to self-control by another question,
to which, with the same emotional difficulty of utterance, he said,
No, there was no malice between us. I never bore malice against the master at arms. I am sorry
that he is dead. I did not mean to kill him. Could I have used my tongue, I would not have struck him.
but he fouly lied to my face and in the presence of my captain,
and I had to say something, and I could only say it with a blow.
God help me!
In the impulsive above-board manner of the Frank one,
the court saw confirmed all that was implied in words
that just previously had perplexed them coming as they did from the testifier to the tragedy,
and promptly following Billy's impassioned disclaimer of mutinous intent,
Captain Veer's words,
I believe you, my man.
Next, it was asked of him whether he knew of or suspected,
aught savoring of incipient trouble, meaning mutiny, though the explicit term was avoided,
going on in any section of the ship's company. The reply lingered. This was naturally imputed by the
court to the same vocal embarrassment which had retarded or obstructed previous answers. But in Maine,
it was otherwise here, the question immediately recalling to Billy's mind the interview with the
afterguardsman in the forechains. But an innate repugnance to playing a part at all approaching that of an
informer against one's own shipmates, the same erring sense of uninstructed honor which had stood in the
way of his reporting the matter at the time, though as a loyal man-of-war's man it was incumbent on him,
and failure so to do it charged against him and proven would have subjected him to the heaviest of
penalties. This, with the blind feeling now his, that nothing really was being hatched, prevailed with
him. When the answer came, it was a negative. One question more, said the officer of Marines, now
first speaking and with a troubled earnestness? You tell us that what the master at arms said against
you was a lie. Now why should he have so lied, so maliciously lied, since you declare there was no
malice between you? At that question, unintentionally touching on a spiritual sphere, wholly obscure to
Billy's thoughts, he was nonplussed, evincing a confusion indeed that some observers such as can be
imagined would have construed into involuntary evidence of hidden guilt. Nevertheless, he strove some way
to answer, but all at once relinquished the vain endeavor, at the same time turning an appealing
glance toward Captain Veer, as deeming him his best helper and friend. Captain Veer, who had been
seated for a time, rose to his feet, addressing the interrogator. The question you put to him
comes naturally enough, but how can he rightly answer it or anybody else, unless indeed it be he
who lies within there, designating the compartment where lay the corpse. But the prone one there
will not rise to our summons. In effect, though, as it seems to me, the point you make is hardly
material. Quite aside from any conceivable motive actuating the master at arms, and irrespective
of the provocation of the blow, a martial court must needs in the present case confine its attention
to the blow's consequence, which consequence is to be deemed not otherwise than as the striker's
deed. This utterance, the full significance of which it was not at all likely that Billy took in,
nevertheless caused him to turn a wistful interrogative look toward the speaker,
a look in its dumb expressiveness not unlike that which a dog of generous breed might turn upon his master,
seeking in his face some elucidation of a previous gesture ambiguous to the canine intelligence,
nor was the same utterance without marked effect upon the three officers, more especially the soldier.
Couched in it seemed to them a meaning unanticipated, involving a prejudgment on the speaker's part.
It served to augment a mental disturbance previously evident enough.
The soldier once more spoke, in a tone of suggestive dubiety, addressing at once his associates and Captain Veer.
Nobody is present, none of the ship's company, I mean, who might shed lateral light if any is to be had upon what remains mysterious in this matter.
That is thoughtfully put, said Captain Veer, I see your drift. Aye, there is a mystery, but to use a scriptural phrase, it is a mystery of iniquity.
a matter for psychological theologians to discuss.
But what has a military court to do with it?
Not to add that for us, any possible investigation of it is cut off by the lasting tongue-tie of
him in yonder, again designating the mortuary statero'room.
The prisoner's deed, with that alone we have to do.
To this, and particularly the closing reiteration, the Marine soldier, knowing not how aptly
to reply, sadly abstained for.
from saying ought. The first lieutenant, who at the outset had not unnaturally assumed primacy
in the court, now overrulingly instructed by a glance from Captain Veer, a glance more effective
than words, resumed that primacy. Turning to the prisoner, Bud, he said, and scarce inequitable
tones, bud, if you have aught further to say for yourself, say it now. Upon this the young
sailor turned another quick glance toward Captain Veer, then, as taking a hint from that aspect,
a hint confirming his own instinct that silence was now best, replied to the lieutenant,
I have said all, sir. The Marine, the same who had been the sentinel without the cabin door at the
time that the foretopman, followed by the master at arms, entered it, he, standing by the
sailor throughout their judicial proceedings, was now directed to take him back to the after
compartment originally assigned to the prisoner and his custodian. As the twain disappeared from
view, the three officers, as partially liberated from some inward constraint associated with
Billy's mere presence, simultaneously stirred in their seats. They exchanged looks of troubled
indecision, yet feeling that decide they must and without long delay, for Captain Veer was for
the time sitting unconsciously with his back toward them, apparently in one of his absent fits,
gazing out from a sashed portal to windward upon the monotonous blank of the twilight sea.
but the court's silence continuing, broken only at moments by brief consultations in low earnest tones,
this seemed to assure him and encourage him.
Turning, he to and fro paced the cabin athwart, in the returning ascent to windward,
climbing the slant deck in the ship's lee roll, without knowing it symbolizing thus in his
action a mind resolute to surmount difficulties even if against primitive instincts strong as the
wind in the sea.
Presently he came to a stand before the three.
After scanning their faces, he stood less as mustering his thoughts for expression
than as one only deliberating how best to put them to well-meaning men not intellectually mature,
men with whom it was necessary to demonstrate certain principles that were axioms to himself.
Similar impatience as to talking is perhaps one reason that deters some minds from addressing any popular assemblies,
under which head is to be classed most legislatures in a democracy.
When speak he did, something both in the substance of what he said and his manner of saying
it showed the influence of unshared studies modifying and tempering the practical training of an
active career. This, along with his phraseology now and then, was suggestive of the grounds
whereon rested that imputation of a certain pedantry socially alleged against him by certain naval
men of wholly practical cast, captains who nevertheless would frankly concede that his
majesty's navy mustered no more efficient officers of their grade than Starry Veer.
What he said was to this effect. Hitherto I have been but the witness, little more,
and I should hardly think now to take another tone, that of your coadjutor. For the time did I not
perceive in you at the crisis too, a troubled hesitancy, proceeding, I doubt not, from the
clashing of military duty with moral scruple.
Scruple vitalized by compassion.
For the compassion, how can I otherwise but share it?
But mindful of paramount obligation, I strive against scruples that may tend to enervate
decision.
Not, gentlemen, that I hide from myself that the case is an exceptional one.
Speculatively regarded, it well might be referred to a jury of casuists.
But for us here, acting not as casuists or moralists, it is a case practical and
and under martial law practically to be dealt with.
But your scruples. Do they move as in a dusk?
Challenge them. Make them advance and declare themselves.
Come now. Do they impart something like this?
If, mindless of paliating circumstances, we are bound to regard the death of the master at
arms as the prisoner's deed, then does that deed constitute a capital crime whereof the
penalty is a mortal one?
But in natural justice is nothing but the prisoner's overt act to be considered?
Now can we adjudge to summary and shameful death a fellow creature, innocent before God, and whom we feel to be so?
Does that state it all right?
You sign sad assent.
Well, I too feel that, the full force of that.
It is nature.
But do these buttons that we wear a test that our allegiance is to nature?
No, to the king.
Though the ocean, which is inviolate nature primeval,
though this be the element where we move and have our being as sailors,
yet as the king's officers lies our duty in a sphere correspondingly natural?
So little is that true that in receiving our commissions we in the most important regard cease to be natural free agents.
When war is declared, are we the commissioned fighters previously consulted?
We fight at command.
If our judgments approve the war, that is but coincidence.
So in other particulars.
So now, would it be so much we ourselves that would condemn as it would be martial or,
law operating through us? For that law and the rigor of it, we are not responsible. Our vowed
responsibility is in this, that however pitilessly that law may operate, we nevertheless adhere to it,
and administer it. But the exceptional in the matter moves the heart within you. Even so, too,
is mine moved. But let not warm hearts betray heads that should be cool. Assure, in a criminal case,
will an upright judge allow himself off the bench to be waylaid by some
tender kinswoman of the accused seeking to touch him with her tearful plea? Well, the heart here is as
that piteous woman. The heart is the feminine in man, and hard though it be, she must here be ruled out.
He paused, earnestly studying them for a moment, then resumed. But something in your aspect
seems to urge that it is not solely that heart that moves in you, but also the conscience,
the private conscience. But tell me whether or not, occupying the position we do,
private conscience should not yield to that imperial one formulated in the code under which alone we officially
proceed. Here the three men moved in their seats, less convinced than agitated by the course of an
argument troubling but the more the spontaneous conflict within, perceiving which the speaker
paused for a moment. Then abruptly changing his tone went on. To steady us a bit, let us recur to the facts.
In wartime at sea, a man-of-war's man strikes his superior ingraties.
and the blow kills. Apart from its effect, the blow itself is, according to the Articles of War,
a capital crime. Furthermore, I, sir, emotionally broke in the officer of Marines. In one sense it was,
but surely Bud purposed neither mutiny nor homicide. Surely not, my good man. And before a court
less arbitrary and more merciful than a martial one, that plea would largely extenuate.
At the last assizes it shall acquit. But how here?
We proceed under the law of the Mutiny Act.
In feature, no child can resemble his father more than that act resembles in spirit the thing
from which it derives, war.
In His Majesty's service, in this ship indeed, there are Englishmen forced to fight for the
king against their will, against their conscience, for aught we know.
Though as their fellow creatures some of us may appreciate their position, yet as Navy
officers, what wreck we of it?
Still less wrecks the enemy.
our impressed men he would fain cut down in the same swath with our volunteers.
As regards the enemy's naval conscripts, some of whom may even share our own abhorrence of the
regicidal French directory, it is the same on our side.
War looks but to the frontage, the appearance, and the mutiny act, War's child, takes after the father.
Bud's intent or non-intent is nothing to the purpose.
But while, put to it by those anxieties in you which I cannot
but respect, I only repeat myself, while thus strangely we prolong proceedings that should be summary,
the enemy may be cited and an engagement result. We must do, and one of two things must we do,
condemn, or let go. Can we not convict and yet mitigate the penalty? asked the junior lieutenant,
here speaking and falteringly for the first. Lieutenant, were that clearly lawful for us under the
circumstances, consider the consequences of such clemency. The people, meaning the ship's
company, have native sense. Most of them are familiar with our naval usage and tradition.
And how would they take it? Even could you explain it to them, which our official position forbids,
they, long-moulded by arbitrary discipline, have not that kind of intelligent responsiveness
that might qualify them to comprehend and discriminate. No, to the people the Fort Topman's deed,
however it be worded in the announcement, will be plain homicide committed in a flagrant act of
mutiny. What penalty for that should follow, they know. But it does not follow. Why, they will
ruminate. You know what sailors are. Will they not revert to the recent outbreak at the Noor?
Aye, they know the well-founded alarm, the panic it struck throughout England. Your clement
sentence they would account pusillanimous. They would think that we flinch, that we are afraid of them,
afraid of practicing a lawful rigor singularly demanded at this juncture lest it should provoke new troubles.
What shame to us such a conjecture on their part, and how deadly to discipline?
You see them wither, prompted by duty and the law, I steadfastly drive.
But I beseech you, my friends, do not take me amiss.
I feel as you do for this unfortunate boy.
But did he know our hearts, I take him to be of that generous nature that he would feel even for us on whom in this military
necessity so heavy a compulsion is laid. With that, crossing the deck, he resumed his place by
the sashed porthole, tacitly leaving the three to come to a decision. On the cabin's opposite side,
the troubled court sat silent. Loyal lieges, plain and practical, though at bottom they dissented
from some points Captain Veer had put to them, they were without the faculty, hardly had the
inclination to gainsay one whom they felt to be an earnest man. One, two, not lest their
superior in mind than in naval rank. But it is not improbable that even such of his words as
were not without influence over them came home to them less than his closing appeal to their
instinct as sea officers. He forecasted the practical consequences to discipline, considering the
unconfirmed tone of the fleet at the time, if violent killing at sea by a man-of-war's man of a
superior in grade were allowed to pass for aught else than a capital crime, and one demanding
prompt infliction of the penalty.
Not unlikely they were brought to something more or less akin to that harassed frame of mind
which in the year 1842 actuated the commander of the U.S. Brigg of War Summers to resolve,
under the so-called Articles of War, articles modeled upon the English Mutiny Act,
to resolve upon the execution at sea of a midshipman and two petty officers as mutineers
designing the seizure of the brig, which resolution was carried out, though, in a time of
peace and within not many days' sale of home, an act vindicated by a naval court of inquiry
subsequently convened ashore. History, and here cited without comment, true the circumstances
on board the summers were different from those on board the indomitable, but the urgency felt,
well warranted or otherwise, was much the same. Says a writer whom few know,
40 years after a battle, it is easy for a non-combatant to reason about how it ought to have been fought.
It is another thing personally and under fire to direct the fighting while involved in the obscuring smoke of it,
much so with respect to other emergencies involving considerations both practical and moral,
and when it is imperative promptly to act.
The greater the fog, the more it imperils the steamer, and speed is put on, though, at the hazard of running somebody down.
Little weaned the snug card players in the cabin of the responsibilities of the sleepless man on the bridge.
In brief, Billy Budd was formally convicted and sentenced to be hung at the yardarm in the early morning watch, it being now night.
Otherwise, as is customary in such cases, the sentence would forthwith have been carried out.
In wartime on the field or in the fleet, a mortal punishment decreed by a drum head court,
on the field sometimes decreed by but a nod from the general,
follows without delay on the heel of conviction without appeal.
End of Section 8.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Section 9 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville.
This Librevox recording is in the public domain.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Chapter 19.
It was Captain Veer himself, who of his own
motion communicated the finding of the court to the prisoner, for that purpose going to the
compartment where he was in custody and bidding the Marine there to withdraw for the time. Beyond the
communication of the sentence, what took place at this interview was never known. But, in view of
the character of the Twain briefly closeted in that stateroom, each radically sharing in the rarer
qualities of one nature, so rare indeed as to be all but incredible to average minds, however,
much cultivated, some conjectures may be ventured.
It would have been in consonance with the spirit of Captain Veer
should he on this occasion have concealed nothing from the condemned one,
should he indeed have frankly disclosed to him the part he himself had played
in bringing about the decision, at the same time revealing his actuating motives.
On Billy's side, it is not improbable that such a confession would have been received
in much the same spirit that prompted it, not without a sort of joy, indeed he might
have appreciated the brave opinion of him implied in his captain making such a confidant of him.
Nor as to the sentence itself could he have been insensible that it was imparted to him as to one not
afraid to die. Even more may have been. Captain Veer in the end may have developed the passion
sometimes latent under an exterior stoical or indifferent. He was old enough to have been Billy's
father, the austere devotee of military duty, letting himself melt back into what
remains primeval in our formalized humanity, may in the end have caught Billy to his heart,
even as Abraham may have caught young Isaac on the brink of resolutely offering him up in obedience to
the exacting behest. But there is no telling the sacrament, seldom if in any case revealed to the
gadding world wherever under circumstances at all akin to those here attempted to be set forth,
two of great nature's nobler order embrace. There is privacy at the time,
inviolable to the survivor, and wholly oblivion, the sequel to each diviner magnanimity,
providentially covers all at last. The first to encounter Captain Veer in the act of leaving the
compartment was the senior lieutenant. The face he beheld, for the moment one expressive of the agony
of the strong, was to that officer, though a man of fifty, a startling revelation.
That the condemned one suffered less than he who mainly had affected the condemnation,
was apparently indicated by the former's exclamation in the scene soon perforced to be touched upon.
Of a series of incidents within a brief term rapidly following each other,
the adequate narration may take up a term less brief,
especially if explanation or comment here and there seems requisite to the better understanding of such incidents.
Between the entrance into the cabin of him who never left it alive,
and him who when he did leave it, left it as one condemned to die,
between this and the closeted interview just given, less than an hour and a half had elapsed.
It was an interval long enough, however, to awaken speculations among no few of the ship's
company as to what it was that could be detaining in the cabin the master at arms and the sailor,
for it was rumored that both of them had been seen to enter it, and neither of them had been
seen to emerge. This rumor had got abroad upon the gun decks and in the tops,
the people of a great warship being in one respect like villagers,
taking microscopic note of every untoward movement or non-movement going on.
When therefore in whether not at all tempestuous,
all hands were called in the second dog watch,
a summons under such circumstances not usual in those hours.
The crew were not wholly unprepared for some announcement extraordinary,
one having connection, too,
with the continued absence of the two men from their wanted haunts.
There was a moderate sea at the time, and the moon newly risen, and near to being at its full,
silvered the white spar deck wherever not blotted by the clear-cut shadows horizontally thrown of fixtures and moving men.
On either side of the quarter-deck, the Marine Guard under arms was drawn up,
and Captain Veer, standing in his place, surrounded by all the wardroom officers, addressed his men.
In so doing, his manner showed neither more nor less than that properly pertaining to his support,
position aboard his own ship. In clear terms and concise, he told them what had taken place in
the cabin, that the master at arms was dead, that he who had killed him had been already tried
by a summary court and condemned to death, and that the execution would take place in the early
morning watch. The word mutiny was not named in what he said. He refrained, too, from making the
occasion an opportunity for any preachment as to the maintenance of discipline, thinking perhaps
that under existing circumstances in the Navy, the consequence of violating discipline should be made to speak for itself.
Their captain's announcement was listened to by the throng of standing sailors in a dumbness like that of a seated congregation of believers in hell
listening to their clergyman's announcement of his Calvinistic text. At the close, however, a confused murmur went up.
It began to wax all but instantly, then at a sign was pierced and suppressed by shrill whistles of the boats and in his mate's piping,
Down one watch. To be prepared for burial, Claggart's body was delivered to certain petty officers
of his mess. And here, not to clog the sequel with lateral matters, it may be added that at a
suitable hour, the Master at Arms was committed to the sea with every funeral honor properly
belonging to his naval grade. In this proceeding, as in every public one growing out of the
tragedy, strict adherence to usage was observed. Nor in any point could it have been at all
deviated from, either with respect to Clygert or Billy Budd, without begetting undesirable
speculations in the ship's company. Sailors, and more particularly man-of-war's men, being of all men
the greatest sticklers for usage. For similar cause, all communication between Captain Veer and the
condemned one ended with the closeted interview already given, the latter being now surrendered to the
ordinary routine preliminary to the end. This transfer under guard from the captain's quarters was
affected without unusual precautions, at least no visible ones. If possible, not to let the men
so much as surmise that their officers anticipate aught amiss from them, is the tacit rule in a military
ship, and the more that some sort of trouble should really be apprehended, the more do the officers
keep that apprehension to themselves, though not the less unostentatious vigilance may be augmented.
In the present instance, the sentry placed over the prisoner had strict orders to let no one have
communication with him but the chaplain, and certain unobtrusive measures were taken absolutely
to ensure this point.
Chapter 20
In a 74 of the old order, the deck known as the upper gun deck was the one covered over
by the spar deck, which last, though not without its armament, was for the most part exposed
to the weather.
In general, it was at all hours free from hammocks.
Those of the crew swinging on the lower gun deck and berth deck, the last
ladder being not only a dormitory, but also the place for the stowing of the sailor's bags,
and on both sides lined with the large chests or movable pantries of the many messes of the men.
On the starboard side of the Indomitable's upper gun deck,
behold Billy Budd under Sentry lying prone in irons in one of the bays
formed by the regular spacing of the guns comprising the batteries on either side.
All these pieces were of the heavier caliber of that period,
mounted on lumbering wooden carriages,
they were hampered with cumbersome harness of breaching and strong side tackles for running them out.
Guns and carriages, together with the long rammers and shorter lintstocks lodged in loops overhead,
all these, as customary, were painted black,
and the heavy hempen breechings tarred to the same tint wore the like livery of the undertaker.
In contrast with the funereal tone of these surroundings,
the prone sailor's exterior apparel, white jumper and white duck trousers, each more
or less soiled, dimly glimmered in the obscure light of the bay like a patch of discolored snow
in early April lingering at some upland cave's black mouth. In effect, he is already in his shroud
or the garments that shall serve him in lieu of one. Over him, but scarce illuminating him,
two battle lanterns swing from two massive beams of the deck above. Fed with the oil supplied by
the war contractors, whose gains, honest or otherwise, are in every land in anticipated portion of
harvest of death, with flickering splashes of dirty yellow light they pollute the pale moonshine
all but ineffectually struggling in obstructed flecks through the open ports from which the
topiond cannon protrude. Other lanterns at intervals serve but to bring out somewhat the obscure
bays which, like small confessionals or side chapels in a cathedral, branch from the long, dim-visted
broad aisle between the two batteries of that covered tier. Such was the deck where now lay the
handsome sailor. Through the rose-tan of his complexion no pallor could have shown. It would have taken
days of sequestration from the winds and the sun to have brought about the effacement of that,
but the skeleton and the cheekbone at the point of its angle was just beginning delicately to be
defined under the warm-tinted skin. In fervid hearts self-contained some brief experiences devour our
human tissue as secret fire in a ship's hold consumes cotton in the bale. But now, lying between the two
guns, as nipped in the vice of fate, Billy's agony, mainly proceeding from a generous young
heart's virgin experience of the diabolical incarnate and effective in some men, the tension of that
agony was over now. It survived not the something healing in the closeted interview with Captain
Veer. Without movement, he lay as in a trance, that adolescent expression, previously noted as his,
taking on something akin to the look of a slumbering child in the cradle when the warm hearth-glow of
the still chamber of night plays on the dimples that at wiles mysteriously form in the cheek,
silently coming and going there. For now and then, in the jived one's trance, a serene, happy light
born of some wandering reminiscence or dream would diffuse itself over his face, and then wane away
only anew to return. The chaplain coming to see him and finding him thus, and perceiving no sign
that he was conscious of his presence, attentively regarded him for a space, then slipping aside,
withdrew for the time, peradventure feeling that even he, the minister of Christ,
though receiving his stipend from wars, had no consolation to proffer which could result in
a peace transcending that which he beheld. But in the small hours he came again, and the prisoner,
now awake to his surroundings, noticed his approach, and civilly, all but cheerfully, welcomed him.
But it was to little purpose that in the interview following the good man sought to bring
Billy Budd to some godly understanding that he must die and at dawn. True, Billy himself freely referred
to his death as a thing close at hand, but it was something in the way that children will refer to death
in general, who yet among their other sports will play a funeral with hearse and mourners.
Not that, like children, Billy was incapable of conceiving what death really is. No, but he was wholly
without irrational fear of it, a fear more prevalent in highly civilized communities than those
so-called barbarous ones which in all respects stand nearer to unadulterate nature.
And, as elsewhere said, a barbarian Billy radically was, quite as much so, for all the costume,
as his countrymen the British captives living trophies made to march in the Roman triumph of
Germanicus. Quite as much so as those later barbarians, young men probably, and picked specimens
among the earlier British converts to Christianity, at least nominally such, and taken to Rome,
as today converts from lesser isles of the sea may be taken to London, of whom the Pope of that time,
admiring the strangeness of their personal beauty, so unlike the Italian stamp,
their clear, ruddy complexions and curled flaxen locks exclaimed,
Angles, meaning English the modern derivative,
Angles do you call them? And is it because they look so like angels?
Had it been later in time, one would think that the Pope had in mind Fra Angelico's seraphs,
some of whom, plucking apples in gardens of Hesperides, have the faint rosebud complexion
of the more beautiful English girls.
Chapter 21
If in vain the good chaplain sought to impress the young barbarian with ideas of death
akin to those conveyed in the skull, dial, and crossbones on old tombstones,
equally futile to all appearance were his efforts to bring home to him the thought of salvation and a savior.
Billy listened, but less out of awe or reverence, perhaps, than from a certain natural politeness,
doubtless at bottom regarding all that in much the same way that most mariners of his class take any discourse,
abstract or out of the common tone of the work-a-day world.
And this sailor way of taking clerical discourse is not wholly unlike the way in which the pioneer of Christianity,
full of transcendent miracles, was received long ago on tropic aisles by any superior savage,
so-called, a Tahitian, say, of Captain Cook's time or shortly after that time.
Out of natural courtesy he received but did not appreciate.
It was like a gift placed in the palm of an outstretched hand upon which the fingers do not close.
But the Indomitable's chaplain was a discreet man possessing the good sense of a good heart,
so he insisted not on his vocation here.
At the instance of Captain Veer, a lieutenant had apprised him of pretty much everything as to Billy,
and since he felt that innocence was even a better thing than religion wherewith to go to judgment,
he reluctantly withdrew. But, in his emotion, not without first performing an act strange
enough in an Englishman, and under the circumstances yet more so in any regular priest.
Stooping over, he kissed on the fair cheek his fellow man, a felon in martial law,
one who, though in the confines of death, he felt he could never convert to a dogma,
nor for all that did he fear for his future.
Marvel not that having been made acquainted with the young sailors' essential innocence,
the worthy man lifted not a finger to avert the doom of such a martyr to martial discipline.
So to do would not only have been as idle as invoking the desert,
but would also have been an audacious transgression of the bounds of his function,
one as exactly prescribed to him by military law as that of the boatswain or any other naval officer.
Bluntly put, a chaplain is the minister of the Prince of Peace, serving in the host of the god of war, Mars.
As such, he is as incongruous as a musket would be on the altar at Christmas.
Why, then, is he there?
Because he indirectly subserves the purpose attested by the canon.
Because, too, he lends the sanction of the religion of the meek to that which practice,
is the abrogation of everything but force.
End of Section 9.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Section 10 of Billy Budd by Herman Melville.
This Librevox recording is in the public domain.
Recording by Scientific Methodist.
Chapter 22
The night so luminous on the spar deck,
otherwise on the cavernous ones below,
levels so like the tiered galleries and night.
a coal mine, passed away. Like the prophet in the chariot disappearing in heaven and dropping his mantle
to Elisha, the withdrawing night transferred its pale robe to the peeping day. A meek, shy light appeared in the
east, where stretched a diaphanous fleece of white furrowed vapor. That light slowly waxed. Suddenly,
one bell was struck aft, responded to by one louder metallic stroke from forward. It was
4 o'clock in the morning. Instantly the silver whistles were heard summoning all hands to witness
punishment. Up through the great hatchway rimmed with racks of heavy shot, the watch below came
pouring, overspreading with the watch already on deck the space between the mainmast and
foremast, including that occupied by the capacious launch and the black booms tiered on either side of it,
boat and booms making a summit of observation for the powder boys and younger tars. A different group
comprising one watch of Topmen leaned over the side of the rail of that sea balcony,
no small one in a 74, looking down on the crowd below.
Man or boy, none spake but in whispers, and few spake at all.
Captain Veer, as before, the central figure among the assembled commissioned officers,
stood nigh the break of the poop deck, facing forward.
Just below him on the quarter-deck, the Marines in full equipment were drawn up
much as at the scene of the promulgated sentence.
At sea in the old time, the execution by halter of a military sailor was generally from the foreyard.
In the present instance, for special reasons, the main yard was assigned.
Under an arm of that yard the prisoner was presently brought up, the chaplain attending him.
It was noted at the time, and remarked upon afterwards, that in this final scene the good man evinced little or nothing of the perfunctory.
Brief speech indeed he had with the condemned one, but the genuine gospel was,
was less on his tongue than in his aspect and manner toward him.
The final preparations personal to the latter being speedily brought to an end by two Boatson's mates,
the consummation impended.
Billy stood facing aft.
At the penultimate moment, his words, his only ones, words wholly unobstructed in the utterance,
were these.
God bless Captain Veer.
Syllibles so unanticipated coming from one with the ignominious hemp about his neck,
A conventional felon's benediction directed aft toward the quarters of honor.
Syllables, too, delivered in the clear melody of a singing bird on the point of launching from the twig,
had a phenomenal effect, not unenhanced by the rare personal beauty of the young sailor,
spiritualized now through late experiences so poignantly profound.
Without volition, as it were, as if indeed the ship's populace were the vehicles of some vocal current electric,
with one voice from a low and aloft came a resonant echo.
God bless Captain Veer.
And yet at that instant, Billy alone must have been in their hearts, even as he was in their eyes.
At the pronounced words and the spontaneous echo that voluminously rebounded them,
Captain Veer, either through stoic self-control or a sort of momentary paralysis induced by emotional shock,
stood erectly rigid as a musket in the ship Armourer's rack.
The hull, deliberately recovering from the periodic roll to leeward, was just regaining an even keel,
when the last signal, the preconcerted dumb one, was given.
At the same moment it chanced that the vapory fleece hanging low in the east was shot through with a soft glory
as of the fleece of the Lamb of God seen in mystical vision, and simultaneously therewith,
watched by the wedged mass of upturned faces.
Billy ascended, and ascending took the full rows of the dawn.
In the pinioned figure, arrived at the yard end, to the wonder of all,
no motion was apparent save that created by the slow roll of the hull,
in moderate weather so majestic in a great ship-heavy cannoned.
A digression.
When some days afterwards, in reference to the singularity just mentioned,
the purser, a rather ruddy rotund person,
more accurate as an accountant than profound as a philosopher,
said it mess to the surgeon.
What testimony to the force-lawful?
lodged in willpower. The latter, spare and tall, one in whom a discreet causticity went along
with a manner less genial than polite, replied, "'Your pardon, Mr. Purser?' In a hanging scientifically
conducted, and under special orders I myself directed how Buds was to be affected, any movement
following the completed suspension and originating in the body suspended, such movement indicates
mechanical spasm in the muscular system. Hence the absence of that is no more attributable to willpower,
call it, than to horsepower, begging your pardon. But this muscular spasm you speak of,
is not that in a degree more or less invariable in these cases? Assuredly so, Mr. Purser.
How then, my good sir, do you account for its absence in this instance? Mr. Purser, it is clear
that your sense of the singularity in this matter equals not mine. You account for it by what you call
willpower, a term not yet included in the lexicon of science. For me, I do not with my present
knowledge pretend to account for it at all. Even should one assume the hypothesis that at the first
touch of the halliards, the action of Billy's heart, intensified by extraordinary emotion at its
climax, abruptly stopped, much like a watch when in carelessly winding it up you strain at the
finish, thus snapping the chain, even under that hypothesis how account for the phenomenon that
followed. You admit then that the absence of spasmodic movement was phenomenal. It was phenomenal,
Mr. Purser, in the sense that it was an appearance, the cause of which is not immediately to be assigned.
But tell me, my dear sir, pertinaciously continued the other, was the man's death affected by the halter,
or was it a species of euthanasia?
Euthanasia, Mr. Purser, is something like your willpower. I doubt its authenticity as a scientific
term, begging your pardon again. It is at once imaginative and metaphysical, in short, Greek.
But, abruptly changing his tone, there is a case.
in the sick bay that I do not care to leave to my assistance.
Beg your pardon, but excuse me.
And rising from the mess, he formally withdrew.
Chapter 23
The silence at the moment of execution, and for a moment or two continuing thereafter,
but emphasized by the regular wash of the sea against the hull,
or the flutter of a sail caused by the helmsman's eyes being tempted astray,
this emphasized silence was gradually disturbed by a sound not easily to be verbally rendered.
Whoever has heard the freshet wave of a torrent suddenly swelled by pouring showers in tropical mountains, showers not shared by the plain,
whoever has heard the first muffled murmur of its sloping advance through precipitous woods may form some conception of the sound now heard.
The seeming remoteness of its source was because of its murmurous indistinctness, since it came from close by, even from the men massed on the ship's open deck.
Being inarticulate, it was dubious in significance further than it seemed to indicate some.
some capricious revulsion of thought or feelings such as mobs ashore are liable to,
in the present instance possibly implying a sullen revocation on the men's part of their
involuntary echoing of Billy's benediction. But ere the murmur had time to wax into clamor,
it was met by a strategic command, the more telling that it came with abrupt unexpectedness.
Pipe down the starboard watch, Boatson, and see that they go. Shrill is the shriek of the Seahawk,
the whistles of the Boatson and his mates pierced that ominous low sound.
dissipating it, and yielding to the mechanism of discipline the throng was thinned by one half.
For the remainder, most of them were set to temporary employments connected with trimming the yards
and so forth, business readily to be found upon occasion by any officer of the deck.
Now each proceeding that follows a mortal sentence pronounced at sea by a drumhead court is
characterized by promptitude, not perceptibly merging into hurry, though bordering that.
The hammock, the one which had been Billy's bed when alive, having already been ballasted with shot and otherwise prepared to serve for his canvas coffin, the last office of the sea undertakers, the sailmaker's mates, was now speedily completed.
When everything was in readiness a second call for all hands, made necessary by the strategic movement before mentioned, was sounded, and now to witness burial.
The details of this closing formality it needs not to give, but when the tilted plank let slide its frayings,
into the sea, a second strange human murmur was heard, blended now with another inarticulate sound
proceeding from certain larger sea-fowl, who, their attention having been attracted by the peculiar
commotion in the water resulting from the heavy sloped dive of the shodded hammock into the sea,
flew screaming to the spot. So near the hull did they come that the strider or bony creek
of their gaunt double-jointed pinions was audible. As the ship under light airs passed on,
leaving the burial spot astern, they still kept circling it low down with the moving shadow of their outstretched wings and the croaked requiem of their cries.
Upon sailors as superstitious as those of the age preceding hours, man-of-war's men, too, who had just beheld a prodigy of repose in the form suspended in air and now foundering in the deeps,
to such mariners the action of the sea-fowl, though dictated by mere animal greed for prey, was big with no prosaic significance.
An uncertain movement began among them, in which some encroachment was made.
It was tolerated but for a moment, for suddenly the drum beat to quarters, which familiar sound
happening at least twice every day, had upon the present occasion a signal peremptoriness in it.
True martial discipline long-continued superinduces an average man a sort of impulse of docility
whose operation at the official tone of command much resembles in its promptitude the effect of an instinct.
The drumbeat dissolved the multitude, distributing most of them along the batteries of the two covered gun decks.
There, as want, the gun crews stood by their respective cannon erect and silent.
In due course, the first officer, sword under arm and standing in his place on the quarterdeck,
formally received the successive reports of the sordid lieutenants commanding the sections of batteries below,
the last of which reports being made, the summed report he delivered with the customary salute to the commander.
All this occupied time, which in the present case was the object of beating to quarters at an hour prior to the customary one,
that such variance from usage was authorized by an officer like Captain Veer, a martinet, as some deemed him,
was evidence of the necessity for unusual action implied in what he deemed to be temporarily the mood of his men.
With mankind, he would say, forms, measured forms, are everything,
and that is the import couched in the story of Orpheus with his leer spellbinding the wild,
denizens of the woods, and this he once applied to the disruption of forms going on across the
channel and the consequences thereof. At this unwanted muster, at quarters all proceeded as at the
regular hour. The band on the quarter-deck played a sacred air, after which the chaplain went through
the customary morning service. That done, the drum beat the retreat, and toned by music and
religious rights subserving the discipline and purpose of war, the men in their wanted,
orderly manner dispersed to the places allotted them when not at the guns. And now it was full
day. The fleece of low-hanging vapor had vanished, licked up by the sun that late had so glorified it,
and the circumambient air and the clearness of its serenity was like smooth white marble in the
polished block not yet removed from the marble dealer's yard.
The symmetry of form attainable in pure fiction cannot so readily be achieved in a narration
essentially having less to do with fable than with fact.
Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its ragged edges.
Hence the conclusion of such a narration is apt to be less finished than an architectural finial.
How it fared with the handsome sailor during the year of the great mutiny has been faithfully given.
But though properly the story ends with his life, something in way of sequel would,
not be amiss. Three brief chapters will suffice. In the general rechristening under the directory of the
craft originally forming the navy of the French monarchy, the St. Louis line of battleship was named
the Atiste. Such a name, like some other substituted ones in the revolutionary fleet, while
proclaiming the infidel audacity of the ruling power, was yet, though not so intended to be,
the aptest name, if one considerate, ever given to a warship. Farmer,
more so indeed than the devastation, the Erebus, the Hell, and similar names bestowed upon
fighting ships. On the return passage to the English fleet, from the detached cruise during which
occurred the events already recorded, the indomitable fell in with the Atteist. An engagement ensued,
during which Captain Veer, in the act of putting his ship alongside the enemy with a view of
throwing his borders across the bulwarks, was hit by a musketball from a portal of the enemy's main cabin,
More than disabled, he dropped to the deck and was carried below to the same cockpit where some of his men already lay.
The senior lieutenant took command. Under him the enemy was finally captured, and though much crippled,
was by rare good fortune successfully taken into Gibraltar, an English port not very distant from the scene of the fight.
There, Captain Veer, with the rest of the wounded, was put ashore. He lingered for some days, but the end came.
unhappily he was cut off too early for the Nile and Trafalgar.
The spirit that, spite its philosophic austerity may yet have indulged in the most secret of all passions, ambition, never attained to the fullness of fame.
Not long before death, while lying under the influence of that magical drug which, soothing the physical frame, mysteriously operates on the subtler elements in a man,
he was heard to murmur words inexplicable to his attendance.
Billy Budd
Billy Bud
That these were not the accents of remorse
would seem clear from what the attendant said
to the indomitable senior officer of Marines
who, as the most reluctant to condemn
of the members of the Drumhead Court,
too well knew, though here he kept the knowledge to himself,
who Billy Budd was.
Chapter 25
Some few weeks after the execution,
among other matters under the head of news from the Mediterranean,
There appeared in a naval chronicle of the time, an authorized weekly publication, an account of the
affair. It was doubtless for the most part written in good faith, though the medium, partly rumor,
through which the facts must have reached the writer, served to deflect and in part falsify them.
Because it appeared in a publication now long ago superannuated and forgotten, and is all that hitherto
has stood on human record to attest what manner of men respectively were John Claggart and Billy Budd,
it is here reproduced.
On the tenth of the last month,
a deplorable occurrence took place
on board HMS indomitable.
John Claggart, the ship's master at arms,
discovering that some sort of plot
was insipient among an inferior section
of the ship's company,
and that the ringleader was one William Budd,
he, Claggart, in the act of arraining the man
before the captain, was vindictively stabbed to the heart
by the suddenly drawn sheath-knife of Bud.
The deed and the implement employed
sufficiently suggest that though mustered into the service under an English name, the assassin
was no Englishman, but one of those aliens adopting an English cognomen whom the present extraordinary
necessities of the service have caused to be admitted into it in considerable numbers.
The enormity of the crime and the extreme depravity of the criminal appear the greater in view
of the character of the victim, a middle-aged man, respectable and discreet, belonging to that
minor official grade, the petty officers upon whom, as none know better than the commissioned gentleman,
the efficiency of his Majesty's Navy so largely depends. His function was a responsible one,
at once onerous and thankless, and his fidelity in it the greater because of his strong
patriotic impulse. In this instance, as in so many other instances in these days, the character
of the unfortunate man signally refutes, if refutation were needed, that peevish saying a
attributed to Dr. Johnson that patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.
The criminal paid the penalty of his crime. The promptitude of the punishment has proved salutary.
Nothing amiss is now apprehended aboard HMS indomitable.
Chapter 26
Everything is, for a season, remarkable in navies. Any tangible object associated with some
striking incident of the service is converted into a monument.
The spar from which the foretopman was suspended was for some few years kept trace of by the blue jackets.
Then knowledge followed it from ship to dockyard and again from dockyard to ship,
still pursuing it even when at last reduced to a mere dockyard boom.
To them a chip of it was as a piece of the cross,
ignorant though they were of the real facts of the happening,
and not thinking but that the penalty was unavoidably inflicted from the naval point of view,
for all that they instinctively felt that Billy was a sort of,
sort of man as incapable of mutiny as of willful murder.
They recalled the fresh young image of the handsome sailor, that face never deformed by a sneer
or subtler vile freak of the heart within. This impression of him was doubtless deepened by the
fact that he was gone, and in a measure mysteriously gone. On the gun-decks of the indomitable,
the general estimate of his nature and its unconscious simplicity eventually found rude utterance
from another foretopman, one of his own watch, gifted as a man.
some sailors are, with an artless poetic temperament. The tarry hands made some lines, which,
after circulating among the shipboard crew for a while, finally got rudely printed at Portsmouth
as a ballad. The title given to it was the sailors. Billy in the Darbys
Good of the chaplain to enter Lone Bay, and down on his marrow bones here and pray. For the like's
just a me, Billy Budd, but look, through the port comes the port comes
the moonshine astray. It tips the guards cutlass and silvers this nook, but twill die in the dawning
of Billy's last day. A jewel block they'll make of me tomorrow, pennant pearl from the yard-arm end.
Like the eardrop I gave to Bristol Mali, oh, tis me not the sentence they'll suspend.
Aye, aye, all is up, and I must up too. Early in the morning, aloft from a low.
On an empty stomach
Now, never it would do
They'll give me a nibble
Bit a biscuit, ere I go
Sure a messmate will reach me
The last parting cup
But turning heads away from the hoist
And the belay
Heaven knows who will have the running of me up
No pipe to those halliards
But aren't it all sham
A bluer's in my eyes
It is dreaming that I am
A hatchet to my panzer
All adrift to go
The drum roll to grog
And Billy never know
But Donald he has promised
To stand by the plank
So I'll shake a friendly hand
ere I sink
But no, it is dead then I'll be
Come to think
I remember Taff the Welshman
When he sank
And his cheek it was like the budding pink
But me they'll lash me
And hammock drop me deep
Fathoms down, fathoms down
How I'll dream fast asleep
I feel it stealing now
Sentry, are you there?
Just ease these derbies at the wrist
And roll me over fair
I am sleepy and the oozy weeds about me twist
End of Section 10
End of Billy Budd by Herman Melville
