您的位置 : 首页 > 英文著作
Redburn: His First Voyage
Chapter 38. The Dock-Wall Beggars
Herman Melville
下载:Redburn: His First Voyage.txt
本书全文检索:
       _ CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE DOCK-WALL BEGGARS
       I might relate other things which befell me during the six weeks and more that I remained in Liverpool, often visiting the cellars, sinks, and hovels of the wretched lanes and courts near the river. But to tell of them, would only be to tell over again the story just told; so I return to the docks.
       The old women described as picking dirty fragments of cotton in tie empty lot, belong to the same class of beings who at all hours of the day are to be seen within the dock walls, raking over and over the heaps of rubbish carried ashore from the holds of the shipping.
       As it is against the law to throw the least thing overboard, even a rope yarn; and as this law is very different from similar laws in New York, inasmuch as it is rigidly enforced by the dock-masters; and, moreover, as after discharging a ship's cargo, a great deal of dirt and worthless dunnage remains in the hold, the amount of rubbish accumulated in the appointed receptacles for depositing it within the walls is extremely large, and is constantly receiving new accessions from every vessel that unlades at the quays.
       Standing over these noisome heaps, you will see scores of tattered wretches, armed with old rakes and picking-irons, turning over the dirt, and making as much of a rope-yarn as if it were a skein of silk. Their findings, nevertheless, are but small; for as it is one of the immemorial perquisites of the second mate of a merchant ship to collect, and sell on his own account, all the condemned "old junk" of the vessel to which he belongs, he generally takes good heed that in the buckets of rubbish carried ashore, there shall be as few rope-yarns as possible.
       In the same way, the cook preserves all the odds and ends of pork-rinds and beef-fat, which he sells at considerable profit; upon a six months' voyage frequently realizing thirty or forty dollars from the sale, and in large ships, even more than that. It may easily be imagined, then, how desperately driven to it must these rubbish-pickers be, to ransack heaps of refuse which have been previously gleaned.
       Nor must I omit to make mention of the singular beggary practiced in the streets frequented by sailors; and particularly to record the remarkable army of paupers that beset the docks at particular hours of the day.
       At twelve o'clock the crews of hundreds and hundreds of ships issue in crowds from the dock gates to go to their dinner in the town. This hour is seized upon by multitudes of beggars to plant themselves against the outside of the walls, while others stand upon the curbstone to excite the charity of the seamen. The first time that I passed through this long lane of pauperism, it seemed hard to believe that such an array of misery could be furnished by any town in the world.
       Every variety of want and suffering here met the eye, and every vice showed here its victims. Nor were the marvelous and almost incredible shifts and stratagems of the professional beggars, wanting to finish this picture of all that is dishonorable to civilization and humanity.
       Old women, rather mummies, drying up with slow starving and age; young girls, incurably sick, who ought to have been in the hospital; sturdy men, with the gallows in their eyes, and a whining lie in their mouths; young boys, hollow-eyed and decrepit; and puny mothers, holding up puny babes in the glare of the sun, formed the main features of the scene.
       But these were diversified by instances of peculiar suffering, vice, or art in attracting charity, which, to me at least, who had never seen such things before, seemed to the last degree uncommon and monstrous.
       I remember one cripple, a young man rather decently clad, who sat huddled up against the wall, holding a painted board on his knees. It was a picture intending to represent the man himself caught in the machinery of some factory, and whirled about among spindles and cogs, with his limbs mangled and bloody. This person said nothing, but sat silently exhibiting his board. Next him, leaning upright against the wall, was a tall, pallid man, with a white bandage round his brow, and his face cadaverous as a corpse. He, too, said nothing; but with one finger silently pointed down to the square of flagging at his feet, which was nicely swept, and stained blue, and bore this inscription in chalk:--
       "I have had no food for three days;
       My wife and children are dying."
       Further on lay a man with one sleeve of his ragged coat removed, showing an unsightly sore; and above it a label with some writing.
       In some places, for the distance of many rods, the whole line of flagging immediately at the base of the wall, would be completely covered with inscriptions, the beggars standing over them in silence.
       But as you passed along these horrible records, in an hour's time destined to be obliterated by the feet of thousands and thousands of wayfarers, you were not left unassailed by the clamorous petitions of the more urgent applicants for charity. They beset you on every hand; catching you by the coat; hanging on, and following you along; and, for Heaven's sake, and for God's sake, and for Christ's sake, beseeching of you but one ha'penny. If you so much as glanced your eye on one of them, even for an instant, it was perceived like lightning, and the person never left your side until you turned into another street, or satisfied his demands. Thus, at least, it was with the sailors; though I observed that the beggars treated the town's people differently.
       I can not say that the seamen did much to relieve the destitution which three times every day was presented to their view. Perhaps habit had made them callous; but the truth might have been that very few of them had much money to give. Yet the beggars must have had some inducement to infest the dock walls as they did.
       As an example of the caprice of sailors, and their sympathy with suffering among members of their own calling, I must mention the case of an old man, who every day, and all day long, through sunshine and rain, occupied a particular corner, where crowds of tars were always passing. He was an uncommonly large, plethoric man, with a wooden leg, and dressed in the nautical garb; his face was red and round; he was continually merry; and with his wooden stump thrust forth, so as almost to trip up the careless wayfarer, he sat upon a great pile of monkey jackets, with a little depression in them between his knees, to receive the coppers thrown him. And plenty of pennies were tost into his poor-box by the sailors, who always exchanged a pleasant word with the old man, and passed on, generally regardless of the neighboring beggars.
       The first morning I went ashore with my shipmates, some of them greeted him as an old acquaintance; for that corner he had occupied for many long years. He was an old man-of-war's man, who had lost his leg at the battle of Trafalgar; and singular to tell, he now exhibited his wooden one as a genuine specimen of the oak timbers of Nelson's ship, the Victory.
       Among the paupers were several who wore old sailor hats and jackets, and claimed to be destitute tars; and on the strength of these pretensions demanded help from their brethren; but Jack would see through their disguise in a moment, and turn away, with no benediction.
       As I daily passed through this lane of beggars, who thronged the docks as the Hebrew cripples did the Pool of Bethesda, and as I thought of my utter inability in any way to help them, I could not but offer up a prayer, that some angel might descend, and turn the waters of the docks into an elixir, that would heal all their woes, and make them, man and woman, healthy and whole as their ancestors, Adam and Eve, in the garden.
       Adam and Eve! If indeed ye are yet alive and in heaven, may it be no part of your immortality to look down upon the world ye have left. For as all these sufferers and cripples are as much your family as young Abel, so, to you, the sight of the world's woes would be a parental torment indeed. _
用户中心

本站图书检索

本书目录

Chapter 1. How Wellingborough Redburn's Taste For The Sea...
Chapter 2. Redburn's Departure From Home
Chapter 3. He Arrives In Town
Chapter 4. How He Disposed Of His Fowling-Piece
Chapter 5. He Purchases His Sea-Wardrobe...
Chapter 6. He Is Initiated In The Business Of...
Chapter 7. He Gets To Sea And Feels Very Bad
Chapter 8. He Is Put Into The Larboard Watch; Gets Sea-Sick; And Relates Some Other Of His Experiences
Chapter 9. The Sailors Becoming A Little Social...
Chapter 10. He Is Very Much Frightened; The Sailors Abuse Him...
Chapter 11. He Helps Wash The Decks, And Then Goes To Breakfast
Chapter 12. He Gives Some Account Of One Of His...
Chapter 13. He Has A Fine Day At Sea, Begins...
Chapter 14. He Contemplates Making A Social Call On The Captain...
Chapter 15. The Melancholy State Of His Wardrobe
Chapter 16. At Dead Of Night He Is Sent Up To Loose...
Chapter 17. The Cook And Steward
Chapter 18. He Endeavors To Improve His Mind...
Chapter 19. A Narrow Escape
Chapter 20. In A Fog He Is Set To Work As A Bell-Toller...
Chapter 21. A Whaleman And A Man-Of-War's-Man
Chapter 22. The Highlander Passes A Wreck
Chapter 23. An Unaccountable Cabin-Passenger...
Chapter 24. He Begins To Hop About In The Rigging...
Chapter 25. Quarter-Deck Furniture
Chapter 26. A Sailor A Jack Of All Trades
Chapter 27. He Gets A Peep At Ireland, And At Last Arrives At Liverpool
Chapter 28. He Goes To Supper At The Sign Of The Baltimore Clipper
Chapter 29. Redburn Deferentially Discourses...
Chapter 30. Redburn Grows Intolerably Flat And Stupid...
Chapter 31. With His Prosy Old Guide-Book...
Chapter 32. The Docks
Chapter 33. The Salt-Droghers, And German Emigrant Ships
Chapter 34. The Irrawaddy
Chapter 35. Galliots, Coast-Of-Guinea-Man, And Floating Chapel
Chapter 36. The Old Church Of St. Nicholas, And The Dead-House
Chapter 37. What Redburn Saw In Launcelott's-Hey
Chapter 38. The Dock-Wall Beggars
Chapter 39. The Booble-Alleys Of The Town
Chapter 40. Placards, Brass-Jewelers, Truck-Horses, And Steamers
Chapter 41. Redburn Roves About Hither And Thither
Chapter 42. His Adventure With The Cross Old Gentleman
Chapter 43. He Takes A Delightful Ramble Into The Country...
Chapter 44. Redburn Introduces Master Harry Bolton...
Chapter 45. Harry Bolton Kidnaps Redburn, And Carries Him Off To London
Chapter 46. A Mysterious Night In London
Chapter 47. Homeward Bound
Chapter 48. A Living Corpse
Chapter 49. Carlo
Chapter 50. Harry Bolton At Sea
Chapter 51. The Emigrants
Chapter 52. The Emigrants' Kitchen
Chapter 53. The Horatii And Curiatii
Chapter 54. Some Superior Old Nail-Rod And Pig-Tail
Chapter 55. Drawing Nigh To The Last Scene In Jackson's Career
Chapter 56. Under The Lee Of The Long-Boat, Redburn And Harry Hold...
Chapter 57. Almost A Famine
Chapter 58. Though The Highlander Puts Into No Harbor As Yet...
Chapter 59. The Last End Of Jackson
Chapter 60. Home At Last
Chapter 61. Redburn And Habby, Arm In Arm, In Harbor
Chapter 62. The Last That Was Ever Heard Of Harry Bolton