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

by Herman Melville

  CHAPTER LVI.

  A SHORE EMPEROR ON BOARD A MAN-OF-WAR.

  While we lay in Rio, we sometimes had company from shore; but anunforeseen honour awaited us. One day, the young Emperor, Don PedroII., and suite--making a circuit of the harbour, and visiting all themen-of-war in rotation--at last condescendingly visited the Neversink.

  He came in a splendid barge, rowed by thirty African slaves, who, afterthe Brazilian manner, in concert rose upright to their oars at everystroke; then sank backward again to their seats with a simultaneousgroan.

  He reclined under a canopy of yellow silk, looped with tassels ofgreen, the national colours. At the stern waved the Brazilian flag,bearing a large diamond figure in the centre, emblematical, perhaps, ofthe mines of precious stones in the interior; or, it may be, amagnified portrait of the famous "Portuguese diamond" itself, which wasfound in Brazil, in the district of Tejuco, on the banks of the RioBelmonte.

  We gave them a grand salute, which almost made the ship's live-oak_knees_ knock together with the tremendous concussions. We manned theyards, and went through a long ceremonial of paying the Emperor homage.Republicans are often more courteous to royalty than royaliststhemselves. But doubtless this springs from a noble magnanimity.

  At the gangway, the Emperor was received by our Commodore in person,arrayed in his most resplendent coat and finest French epaulets. Hisservant had devoted himself to polishing every button that morning withrotten-stone and rags--your sea air is a sworn foe to metallic glosses;whence it comes that the swords of sea-officers have, of late, sorusted in their scabbards that they are with difficulty drawn.

  It was a fine sight to see this Emperor and Commodore complimentingeach other. Both were _chapeaux-de-bras_, and both continually wavedthem. By instinct, the Emperor knew that the venerable personage beforehim was as much a monarch afloat as he himself was ashore. Did not ourCommodore carry the sword of state by his side? For though not bornebefore him, it must have been a sword of state, since it looked far tolustrous to have been his fighting sword. _That_ was naught but alimber steel blade, with a plain, serviceable handle, like the handleof a slaughter-house knife.

  Who ever saw a star when the noon sun was in sight? But you seldom seea king without satellites. In the suite of the youthful Emperor came aprincely train; so brilliant with gems, that they seemed just emergedfrom the mines of the Rio Belmonte.

  You have seen cones of crystallised salt? Just so flashed thesePortuguese Barons, Marquises, Viscounts, and Counts. Were it not fortheir titles, and being seen in the train of their lord, you would havesworn they were eldest sons of jewelers all, who had run away withtheir fathers' cases on their backs.

  Contrasted with these lamp-lustres of Barons of Brazil, how waned thegold lace of our barons of the frigate, the officers of the gun-room!and compared with the long, jewel-hilted rapiers of the Marquises, thelittle dirks of our cadets of noble houses--the middies--looked likegilded tenpenny nails in their girdles.

  But there they stood! Commodore and Emperor, Lieutenants and Marquises,middies and pages! The brazen band on the poop struck up; the marineguard presented arms; and high aloft, looking down on this scene, all_the people_ vigorously hurraed. A top-man next me on themain-royal-yard removed his hat, and diligently manipulated his head inhonour of the event; but he was so far out of sight in the clouds, thatthis ceremony went for nothing.

  A great pity it was, that in addition to all these honours, thatadmirer of Portuguese literature, Viscount Strangford, of GreatBritain--who, I believe, once went out Ambassador Extraordinary to theBrazils--it was a pity that he was not present on this occasion, toyield his tribute of "A Stanza to Braganza!" For our royal visitor wasan undoubted Braganza, allied to nearly all the great families ofEurope. His grandfather, John VI., had been King of Portugal; his ownsister, Maria, was now its queen. He was, indeed, a distinguished younggentleman, entitled to high consideration, and that consideration wasmost cheerfully accorded him.

  He wore a green dress-coat, with one regal morning-star at the breast,and white pantaloons. In his chapeau was a single, bright, golden-huedfeather of the Imperial Toucan fowl, a magnificent, omnivorous,broad-billed bandit bird of prey, a native of Brazil. Its perch is onthe loftiest trees, whence it looks down upon all humbler fowls, and,hawk-like, flies at their throats. The Toucan once formed part of thesavage regalia of the Indian caciques of the country, and upon theestablishment of the empire, was symbolically retained by thePortuguese sovereigns.

  His Imperial Majesty was yet in his youth; rather corpulent, ifanything, with a care-free, pleasant face, and a polite, indifferent,and easy address. His manners, indeed, were entirely unexceptionable.

  Now here, thought I, is a very fine lad, with very fine prospectsbefore him. He is supreme Emperor of all these Brazils; he has nostormy night-watches to stand; he can lay abed of mornings just as longas he pleases. Any gentleman in Rio would be proud of his personalacquaintance, and the prettiest girl in all South America would deemherself honoured with the least glance from the acutest angle of hiseye.

  Yes: this young Emperor will have a fine time of this life, even solong as he condescends to exist. Every one jumps to obey him; and see,as I live, there is an old nobleman in his suit--the Marquis d'Acartythey call him, old enough to be his grandfather--who, in the hot sun,is standing bareheaded before him, while the Emperor carries his hat onhis head.

  "I suppose that old gentleman, now," said a young New England tarbeside me, "would consider it a great honour to put on his RoyalMajesty's boots; and yet, White-Jacket, if yonder Emperor and I were tostrip and jump overboard for a bath, it would be hard telling which wasof the blood royal when we should once be in the water. Look you, DonPedro II.," he added, "how do you come to be Emperor? Tell me that. Youcannot pull as many pounds as I on the main-topsail-halyards; you arenot as tall as I: your nose is a pug, and mine is a cut-water; and howdo you come to be a '_brigand_,' with that thin pair of spars? A_brigand_, indeed!"

  "_Braganza_, you mean," said I, willing to correct the rhetoric of sofierce a republican, and, by so doing, chastise his censoriousness.

  "Braganza! _bragger_ it is," he replied; "and a bragger, indeed. Seethat feather in his cap! See how he struts in that coat! He may wellwear a green one, top-mates--he's a green-looking swab at the best."

  "Hush, Jonathan," said I; "there's the _First Duff_ looking up. Bestill! the Emperor will hear you;" and I put my hand on his mouth.

  "Take your hand away, White-Jacket," he cried; "there's no law up alofthere. I say, you Emperor--you greenhorn in the green coat, there--lookyou, you can't raise a pair of whiskers yet; and see what a pair ofhomeward-bounders I have on my jowls! _Don Pedro_, eh? What's that,after all, but plain Peter--reckoned a shabby name in my country. Damnme, White-Jacket, I wouldn't call my dog Peter!"

  "Clap a stopper on your jaw-tackle, will you?" cried Ringbolt, thesailor on the other side of him. "You'll be getting us all into darbiesfor this."

  "I won't trice up my red rag for nobody," retorted Jonathan. "So youhad better take a round turn with yours, Ringbolt, and let me alone, orI'll fetch you such a swat over your figure-head, you'll think a LongWharf truck-horse kicked you with all four shoes on one hoof! YouEmperor--you counter-jumping son of a gun--cock your weather eye upaloft here, and see your betters! I say, top-mates, he ain't anyEmperor at all--I'm the rightful Emperor. Yes, by the Commodore'sboots! they stole me out of my cradle here in the palace of Rio, andput that green-horn in my place. Ay, you timber-head, you, I'm DonPedro II., and by good rights you ought to be a main-top-man here, withyour fist in a tar-bucket! Look you, I say, that crown of yours oughtto be on my head; or, if you don't believe _that_, just heave it intothe ring once, and see who's the best man."

  "What's this hurra's nest here aloft?" cried Jack Chase, coming up thet'-gallant rigging from the top-sail yard. "Can't you behave yourself,royal-yard-men, when an Emperor's on board?"

  "It's this here Jonathan," answered Ringbolt; "he's been blackguardingthe young
nob in the green coat, there. He says Don Pedro stole hishat."

  "How?"

  "Crown, he means, noble Jack," said a top-man.

  "Jonathan don't call himself an Emperor, does he?" asked Jack.

  "Yes," cried Jonathan; "that greenhorn, standing there by theCommodore, is sailing under false colours; he's an impostor, I say; hewears my crown."

  "Ha! ha!" laughed Jack, now seeing into the joke, and willing to humourit; "though I'm born a Briton, boys, yet, by the mast! these Don Pedrosare all Perkin Warbecks. But I say, Jonathan, my lad, don't pipe youreye now about the loss of your crown; for, look you, we all wearcrowns, from our cradles to our graves, and though in _double-darbies_in the _brig_, the Commodore himself can't unking us."

  "A riddle, noble Jack."

  "Not a bit; every man who has a sole to his foot has a crown to hishead. Here's mine;" and so saying, Jack, removing his tarpaulin,exhibited a bald spot, just about the bigness of a crown-piece, on thesummit of his curly and classical head.