Ambergris

Now this ambergris is a very curious substance, and so important as an article of commerce, that in 1791 a certain Nantucket-born Captain Coffin was examined at the bar of the English House of Commons on that subject. For at that time, and indeed until a comparatively late day, the precise origin of ambergris remained, like amber itself, a problem to the learned. Though the word ambergris is but the French compound for grey amber, yet the two substances are quite distinct. For amber, though at times found on the sea-coast, is also dug up in some far inland soils, whereas ambergris is never found except upon the sea. Besides, amber is a hard, transparent, brittle, odorless substance, used for mouth-pieces to pipes, for beads and ornaments; but ambergris is soft, waxy, and so highly fragrant and spicy, that it is largely used in perfumery, in pastiles, precious candles, hair-powders, and pomatum. The Turks use it in cooking, and also carry it to Mecca, for the same purpose that frankincense is carried to St. Peter’s in Rome. Some wine merchants drop a few grains into claret, to flavor it.

Ambergris is a very curious substance and an important article of trade. In 1791, a Nantucket-born Captain Coffin was questioned about it before the English House of Commons. At that time, and until relatively recently, the exact origin of ambergris puzzled scholars, just as the origin of amber did. Although ambergris is simply French for grey amber, the two substances are quite different. Amber is sometimes found on the seashore, but it is also dug up from soil far inland. Ambergris, on the other hand, is found only at sea. Amber is also hard, transparent, brittle, and odorless. It is used for pipe mouthpieces, beads, and ornaments. But ambergris is soft and waxy, with such a strong, spicy fragrance that it is widely used in perfumes, scented pastilles, expensive candles, hair powders, and pomade. The Turks use it in cooking. They also carry it to Mecca for the same purpose that frankincense is carried to St. Peter’s in Rome. Some wine merchants drop a few grains into claret to flavor it.

Who would think, then, that such fine ladies and gentlemen should regale themselves with an essence found in the inglorious bowels of a sick whale! Yet so it is. By some, ambergris is supposed to be the cause, and by others the effect, of the dyspepsia in the whale. How to cure such a dyspepsia it were hard to say, unless by administering three or four boat loads of Brandreth’s pills, and then running out of harm’s way, as laborers do in blasting rocks.

Who would think that such fine ladies and gentlemen would enjoy a scent found in the unglamorous guts of a sick whale! Yet that is exactly what they do. Some believe ambergris causes indigestion in the whale. Others believe it is the result. How to cure such indigestion is hard to say. Perhaps one could give the whale three or four boatloads of Brandreth’s pills. Then one would have to run out of harm’s way, as workers do when blasting rocks.

I have forgotten to say that there were found in this ambergris, certain hard, round, bony plates, which at first Stubb thought might be sailors’ trowsers buttons; but it afterwards turned out that they were nothing more than pieces of small squid bones embalmed in that manner.

I forgot to mention that some hard, round, bony plates were found in the ambergris. At first, Stubb thought they might be buttons from sailors’ pants. But they turned out to be nothing more than pieces of small squid bones preserved in the ambergris.

Now that the incorruption of this most fragrant ambergris should be found in the heart of such decay; is this nothing? Bethink thee of that saying of St. Paul in Corinthians, about corruption and incorruption; how that we are sown in dishonor, but raised in glory. And likewise call to mind that saying of Paracelsus about what it is that maketh the best musk. Also forget not the strange fact that of all things of ill-savor, Cologne-water, in its rudimental manufacturing stages, is the worst.

Is it nothing that this sweet-smelling, incorruptible ambergris is found in the heart of such decay? Think of what St. Paul says in Corinthians about corruption and incorruption: we are sown in dishonor, but raised in glory. Remember, too, what Paracelsus says about what makes the best musk. And do not forget the strange fact that, of all foul-smelling things, Cologne-water is the worst in its early stages of manufacture.

I should like to conclude the chapter with the above appeal, but cannot, owing to my anxiety to repel a charge often made against whalemen, and which, in the estimation of some already biased minds, might be considered as indirectly substantiated by what has been said of the Frenchman’s two whales. Elsewhere in this volume the slanderous aspersion has been disproved, that the vocation of whaling is throughout a slatternly, untidy business. But there is another thing to rebut. They hint that all whales always smell bad. Now how did this odious stigma originate?

I would like to end this chapter with the appeal above. But I must answer an accusation often made against whalemen. Some people who are already biased might think my account of the Frenchman’s two whales indirectly supports the accusation. Elsewhere in this book, I have disproved the slanderous claim that whaling is a messy, untidy business in every respect. But there is another claim to refute. Some people suggest that all whales always smell bad. How did this terrible stigma begin?

I opine, that it is plainly traceable to the first arrival of the Greenland whaling ships in London, more than two centuries ago. Because those whalemen did not then, and do not now, try out their oil at sea as the Southern ships have always done; but cutting up the fresh blubber in small bits, thrust it through the bung holes of large casks, and carry it home in that manner; the shortness of the season in those Icy Seas, and the sudden and violent storms to which they are exposed, forbidding any other course. The consequence is, that upon breaking into the hold, and unloading one of these whale cemeteries, in the Greenland dock, a savor is given forth somewhat similar to that arising from excavating an old city grave-yard, for the foundations of a Lying-in Hospital.

I believe it can be traced directly to the first arrival of the Greenland whaling ships in London, over two centuries ago. Unlike Southern ships, Greenland whalers did not then, and do not now, boil their blubber into oil at sea. Southern ships have always done this at sea. Instead, Greenland whalers cut the fresh blubber into small pieces, push it through the bung holes of large casks, and carry it home that way. The short season in those icy seas and the sudden, violent storms leave them no other choice. As a result, when one of these whale cemeteries is opened and unloaded at the Greenland dock, it gives off a smell. It is rather like the smell of digging up an old city graveyard to lay the foundations of a maternity hospital.

I partly surmise also, that this wicked charge against whalers may be likewise imputed to the existence on the coast of Greenland, in former times, of a Dutch village called Schmerenburgh or Smeerenberg, which latter name is the one used by the learned Fogo Von Slack, in his great work on Smells, a text-book on that subject. As its name imports (smeer, fat; berg, to put up), this village was founded in order to afford a place for the blubber of the Dutch whale fleet to be tried out, without being taken home to Holland for that purpose. It was a collection of furnaces, fat-kettles, and oil sheds; and when the works were in full operation certainly gave forth no very pleasant savor. But all this is quite different with a South Sea Sperm Whaler; which in a voyage of four years perhaps, after completely filling her hold with oil, does not, perhaps, consume fifty days in the business of boiling out; and in the state that it is casked, the oil is nearly scentless. The truth is, that living or dead, if but decently treated, whales as a species are by no means creatures of ill odor; nor can whalemen be recognised, as the people of the middle ages affected to detect a Jew in the company, by the nose. Nor indeed can the whale possibly be otherwise than fragrant, when, as a general thing, he enjoys such high health; taking abundance of exercise; always out of doors; though, it is true, seldom in the open air. I say, that the motion of a Sperm Whale’s flukes above water dispenses a perfume, as when a musk-scented lady rustles her dress in a warm parlor. What then shall I liken the Sperm Whale to for fragrance, considering his magnitude? Must it not be to that famous elephant, with jewelled tusks, and redolent with myrrh, which was led out of an Indian town to do honor to Alexander the Great?

I also suspect that this unfair accusation against whalers may partly come from a Dutch village once on the coast of Greenland. The village was called Schmerenburgh or Smeerenberg. The learned Fogo Von Slack uses the latter name in his great work on Smells, a textbook on the subject. As the name suggests (smeer, fat; berg, to put up), the village was founded to provide a place to boil down the Dutch whale fleet’s blubber. That way, the blubber did not have to be taken home to Holland for processing. The village was a collection of furnaces, fat kettles, and oil sheds. When the works were in full operation, they certainly gave off no pleasant smell. But things are quite different on a South Sea Sperm Whaler. On a voyage of perhaps four years, the ship may fill its hold with oil. Yet it may spend fewer than fifty days boiling down blubber. And by the time the oil is put into casks, it has almost no smell. The truth is that whales, living or dead, are not bad-smelling creatures if they are treated decently. Nor can whalemen be recognized by smell, as people in the Middle Ages claimed to detect a Jew in their company. Indeed, how could a whale be anything but fragrant? As a rule, he enjoys excellent health. He gets plenty of exercise and is always outdoors, though he is seldom in the open air. I say that a Sperm Whale’s flukes spread perfume as they move above the water, just as a musk-scented lady does when she rustles her dress in a warm parlor. So what can I compare the Sperm Whale’s fragrance to, given his size? Must it not be that famous elephant, with jeweled tusks and smelling sweetly of myrrh, led out of an Indian town to honor Alexander the Great?