Dammy

Dammy is the nickname that the child Myra Selfridge gives to John Rowland, the disgraced former naval officer who saves her from the wreck of the Titan and protects her on the iceberg. The name first appears in the chaos of the confrontation at Lloyds, where the frightened child, separated from Rowland, cries out for him, and it recurs throughout the story as a marker of the deep, almost paternal attachment that grows between the two survivors. More than a simple term of endearment, "Dammy" becomes a symbol of Rowland's redemption and the bond that transcends the social disgrace and physical ruin he has suffered.

Origin and First Appearance

The nickname emerges in the office of Mr. Meyer, the underwriter, during the tense confrontation over the insurance of the Titan. When Captain Barry knocks down Captain Bryce, the commotion frightens little Myra, who begins to cry and call for Rowland in her own way. She struggles to go to him, crying, "Dammy," which puzzles and slightly scandalizes the gentle old Mr. Selfridge, who is trying to soothe her. Mr. Meyer, with his characteristic jocularity, remarks, "Oh, what a pad little girl," and asks where she learned such language. Rowland, smiling in spite of himself, explains, "It is my nickname," and adds that she has coined the word and that he has not been able to persuade her to drop it, nor could he be harsh with her. This moment establishes the nickname as a private, affectionate term that only the child uses, and it reveals the tenderness that has developed between them during their shared ordeal.

The Bond It Represents

The nickname encapsulates the relationship that forms between Rowland and Myra from the moment of the shipwreck. When the Titan strikes the iceberg, Rowland, drugged and on lookout, finds the sleepwalking child at his feet and instinctively protects her, wrapping his pea-jacket around her cold body. On the iceberg, he fights and kills a polar bear to save her, sustaining injuries that lead to the amputation of his left arm. He cares for her with makeshift bandages and clothing, and even in his delirium, he feeds and dresses her wounds. The child's trust in him is so complete that she calls him "Dammy," a name that suggests a fatherly or protective figure. This bond is so strong that when Rowland is arrested in New York, Myra screams for him, and at the trial, she calls out his nickname, causing Mrs. Selfridge to admonish her not to say "that bad word." The nickname thus becomes a testament to the genuine love and care that Rowland, despite his past, has shown the child.

Recurrence and Significance

The nickname recurs at pivotal moments, underscoring its emotional weight. After the confrontation at Lloyds, when Rowland, Captain Barry, and Myra leave the office, the child is frightened and calls for "Dammy," and Rowland takes her, and she nestles up to him contentedly. Later, when Rowland brings Myra to New York and is arrested on Broadway, the child screams for him from the arms of a female member of the party. At the trial, Myra, seeing Rowland, calls his nickname, and Mrs. Selfridge, in her testimony, mentions that the child has been taught to "swear horribly," referring to the nickname. The magistrate, after reading the newspaper account of Rowland's heroism, discharges him, and Myra shouts profanely for Rowland as she leaves the courtroom. The nickname thus serves as a counterpoint to the accusations against Rowland, reminding the reader of his true character and the bond that the legal system and Mrs. Selfridge fail to understand.

The Nickname as a Symbol of Redemption

"Dammy" is more than a child's mispronunciation; it is a symbol of Rowland's redemption. Throughout the novella, Rowland is portrayed as a broken man, disgraced, alcoholic, and atheistic, but his selfless acts on the iceberg and his devotion to Myra transform him. The nickname represents the innocent love that redeems him, and it is through this bond that he finds a new purpose in life. After the trial, Rowland, now one-armed, rebuilds his life, eventually securing a government position, and he reflects that his past suffering was due to "a mistaken estimate of the importance of women and whisky." Yet, when he receives a letter from Mrs. Selfridge, who writes that Myra will not let her rest and asks him to come and see Myra, he goes. The nickname, though not explicitly mentioned in the letter, is the unspoken thread that draws him back, signifying that the bond he formed with the child is the most enduring and meaningful connection in his life.