The Cassock

Had you stepped on board the Pequod at a certain juncture of this post-mortemizing of the whale; and had you strolled forward nigh the windlass, pretty sure am I that you would have scanned with no small curiosity a very strange, enigmatical object, which you would have seen there, lying along lengthwise in the lee scuppers. Not the wondrous cistern in the whale’s huge head; not the prodigy of his unhinged lower jaw; not the miracle of his symmetrical tail; none of these would so surprise you, as half a glimpse of that unaccountable cone,—longer than a Kentuckian is tall, nigh a foot in diameter at the base, and jet-black as Yojo, the ebony idol of Queequeg. And an idol, indeed, it is; or, rather, in old times, its likeness was. Such an idol as that found in the secret groves of Queen Maachah in Judea; and for worshipping which, King Asa, her son, did depose her, and destroyed the idol, and burnt it for an abomination at the brook Kedron, as darkly set forth in the 15th chapter of the First Book of Kings.

If you had boarded the Pequod at a certain point during the examination of the dead whale, you might have strolled forward near the windlass. I am quite sure you would have looked with great curiosity at a strange, mysterious object. It lay lengthwise in the lee scuppers. The marvelous reservoir in the whale’s huge head would not have surprised you as much. Nor would its astonishing unhinged lower jaw or its miraculous symmetrical tail. None of these would have surprised you as much as half a glimpse of that inexplicable cone. It was longer than a Kentuckian is tall, nearly a foot wide at the base, and jet-black as Yojo, Queequeg’s ebony idol. And an idol it is, indeed, or rather, in ancient times, its likeness was. It was an idol like the one found in Queen Maachah’s secret groves in Judea. Because she worshipped it, her son, King Asa, removed her from power. He destroyed the idol and burned it as an abomination at the brook Kedron. This is darkly described in the 15th chapter of the First Book of Kings.

Look at the sailor, called the mincer, who now comes along, and assisted by two allies, heavily backs the grandissimus, as the mariners call it, and with bowed shoulders, staggers off with it as if he were a grenadier carrying a dead comrade from the field. Extending it upon the forecastle deck, he now proceeds cylindrically to remove its dark pelt, as an African hunter the pelt of a boa. This done he turns the pelt inside out, like a pantaloon leg; gives it a good stretching, so as almost to double its diameter; and at last hangs it, well spread, in the rigging, to dry. Ere long, it is taken down; when removing some three feet of it, towards the pointed extremity, and then cutting two slits for arm-holes at the other end, he lengthwise slips himself bodily into it. The mincer now stands before you invested in the full canonicals of his calling. Immemorial to all his order, this investiture alone will adequately protect him, while employed in the peculiar functions of his office.

Look at the sailor called the mincer, who now comes along with two helpers. Together they load the grandissimus, as the sailors call it, onto his back. He staggers away under it, his shoulders bowed, like a grenadier carrying a dead comrade from the battlefield. He lays it out on the forecastle deck and strips off its dark skin in one piece, as an African hunter strips the skin from a boa. Then he turns the skin inside out like a trouser leg. He stretches it until it is almost twice as wide, then hangs it spread open in the rigging to dry. Before long, he takes it down and removes about three feet from the pointed end. He cuts two armholes at the other end and slips his whole body lengthwise into the skin. The mincer now stands before you in the full ceremonial dress of his calling. Mincers have worn this garment since time immemorial. It alone can adequately protect him while he performs the special duties of his office.

That office consists in mincing the horse-pieces of blubber for the pots; an operation which is conducted at a curious wooden horse, planted endwise against the bulwarks, and with a capacious tub beneath it, into which the minced pieces drop, fast as the sheets from a rapt orator’s desk. Arrayed in decent black; occupying a conspicuous pulpit; intent on bible leaves; what a candidate for an archbishopric, what a lad for a Pope were this mincer!*

The job is to mince the horse-pieces of blubber for the pots. The mincer works at a curious wooden horse, set lengthwise against the ship’s side, with a large tub underneath. The minced pieces drop into the tub as fast as pages fall from the desk of an engrossed speaker. Dressed in respectable black, standing in a prominent pulpit, and absorbed in the pages of a Bible, what a candidate for archbishop this mincer would make! What a fine Pope he would be!*

*Bible leaves! Bible leaves! This is the invariable cry from the mates to the mincer. It enjoins him to be careful, and cut his work into as thin slices as possible, inasmuch as by so doing the business of boiling out the oil is much accelerated, and its quantity considerably increased, besides perhaps improving it in quality.

*Bible leaves! Bible leaves! This is what the mates always cry to the mincer. They are telling him to be careful and cut the blubber into slices as thin as possible. Thin slices make the oil boil out much faster and yield considerably more oil. They may also improve its quality.