While this harangue was going on, I stood in a circle, of which I was the centre, and the admiral and the captains formed the circumference: what little air there was their bodies intercepted, so that I was not only in a stew, but stupefied into the bargain.

  “There, sir, you hear me — you may go.”

  “Yes, I do hear you,” thinks I; “but how the devil am I to get away from you?” for the cruel captains, like schoolboys round a rat-trap, stood so close that I could not start. Fortunately, this my blockade, which they no doubt intended for their amusement, saved me for that time. I recollected myself, and said, with affected simplicity of manner, that I had that morning put on my uniform for the first time; that I had never seen my captain, and never was on board a ship in all my life. At this explanation, the countenance of the admiral relaxed into something that was meant for a smile, and the captains all burst into a loud laugh.

  “Well, young man,” said the admiral — who was really a good-tempered fellow, though an old one— “well, young man, since you have never been at sea, it is some excuse for not knowing good manners; there is no necessity now for delivering my message to the first lieutenant, but you may go on board your ship.”

  Having seen me well roasted, the captains opened right and left, and let me pass. As I left them I heard one say, “Just caught — marks of the dogs’ teeth in his heels, I warrant you.”

  I did not stop to make any reply, but sneaked away, mortified and crest-fallen, and certainly obeyed this, the first order which I had ever received in the service, with more exactness than I ever did any subsequent one.

  During the remainder of my walk, I touched my hat to every one I met. I conferred the honour of salute on midshipmen, master’s mates, sergeants of marines, and two corporals. Nor was I aware of my over complaisance, until a young woman, dressed like a lady, who knew more of the navy than I did, asked me if I had come down to stand for the borough? Without knowing what she meant, I replied, “No.”

  “I thought you might,” said she, “seeing you are so damned civil to everybody.” Had it not been for this friendly hint, I really believe I should have touched my hat to a drummer.

  Having gone through this ordeal, I reached the inn at Plymouth, where I found my captain, and presented my father’s letter. He surveyed me from top to toe, and desired the pleasure of my company to dinner at six o’clock. “In the meantime,” he said, “as it is now only eleven, you may go aboard, and show yourself to Mr Handstone, the first lieutenant, who will cause your name to be entered on the books, and allow you to come back here to dine.” I bowed and retired; and on my way to Mutton Cove was saluted by the females with the appellation of “royal reefer” (midshipman), and a “biscuit nibbler;” but all this I neither understood nor cared for. I arrived safely at Mutton Cove, where two women, seeing my inquiring eye and span-new dress, asked what ship they should take “my honour” to. I told them the ship which I wished to go on board of.

  “She lays under the Obelisk,” said the elder woman, who appeared to be about forty years of age; “and we will take your honour off for a shilling.”

  I agreed to this, both for the novelty of the thing, as well as on account of my natural gallantry and love of female society. The elder woman was mistress of her profession, handling her scull (oar) with great dexterity: but Sally, the younger one, who was her daughter, was still in her novitiate. She was pretty, cleanly dressed, had on white stockings, and sported a neat foot and ankle.

  “Take care, Sally,” said the mother; “keep stroke, or you will catch a crab.”

  “Never fear, mother,” said the confident Sally; and at the same moment, as if the very caution against the accident was the cause of it, the blade of her scull did not dip into the water. The oar meeting no resistance, its loom, or handle, came back upon the bosom of the unfortunate Sally, tipped her backwards — up went her heels in the air, and down fell her head into the bottom of the boat. As she was pulling the stroke oar, her feet almost came in contact with the rosette of my cocked-hat.

  “There now, Sally,” said the wary mother; “I told you how it would be — I knew you would catch a crab!”

  Sally quickly recovered herself, blushed a little, and resumed her occupation. “That’s what we call catching a crab in our country,” said the woman. I replied that I thought it was a very pretty amusement, and I asked Sally to try and catch another; but she declined, and by this time we had reached the side of the ship.

  Having paid my naiads, I took hold of the man-rope, as I was instructed by them, and mounted the side. Reaching the gangway, I was accosted by a midshipman in a round jacket and trousers, a shirt none of the cleanest, and a black silk handkerchief tied loosely round his neck.

  “Who did you want, sir?” said he.

  “I wish to speak with Mr Handstone, the first lieutenant,” said I. He informed me that the first lieutenant was then gone down to frank the letters, and when he came on deck, he would acquaint him with my being there.

  After this dialogue, I was left on the larboard side of the quarter-deck to my own meditations. The ship was at this time refitting, and was what is usually called in the hands of the dockyard, and a sweet mess she was in. The quarter-deck carronades were run fore and aft; the slides unbolted from the side, the decks were covered with pitch fresh poured into the seams, and the caulkers were sitting on their boxes ready to renew their noisy labours as soon as the dinner-hour had expired. The middies, meanwhile, on the starboard side of the quarter-deck, were taking my altitude, and speculating as to whether I was to be a messmate of theirs, and what sort of a chap I might chance to be — both these points were solved very speedily.

  The first lieutenant came on deck; the midshipman of the watch presented me, and I presented my name and the captain’s message.

  “It is all right, sir,” said Mr Handstone. “Here, Mr Flyblock, do you take this young gentleman into your mess; you may show him below as soon as you please, and tell him where to hang his hammock up.”

  I followed my new friend down the ladder, under the half-deck, where sat a woman, selling bread and butter and red herrings to the sailors; she had also cherries and clotted cream, and a cask of strong beer, which seemed to be in great demand. We passed her, and descended another ladder, which brought us to the ‘tween decks, and into the steerage, in the forepart of which, on the larboard side, abreast of the mainmast, was my future residence — a small hole which they called a berth; it was ten feet long by six, and about five feet four inches high; a small aperture, about nine inches square, admitted a very scanty portion of that which we most needed, namely, fresh air and daylight. A deal table occupied a very considerable extent of this small apartment, and on it stood a brass candlestick, with a dip candle, and a wick like a full-blown carnation. The table-cloth was spread, and the stains of port wine and gravy too visibly indicated, like the midshipman’s dirty shirt, the near approach of Sunday. The black servant was preparing for dinner, and I was shown the seat I was to occupy. “Good Heaven!” thought I, as I squeezed myself between the ship’s side and the mess-table; “and is this to be my future residence? Better go back to school; there, at least, there is fresh air and clean linen.”

  I would have written that moment to my dear, broken-hearted mother, to tell her how gladly her prodigal son would fly back to her arms; but I was prevented doing this, first by pride, and secondly by want of writing materials. Taking my place, therefore, at the table, I mustered up all my philosophy; and, to amuse myself, called to mind the reflections of Gil Blas, when he found himself in the den of the robbers, “Behold, then, the worthy nephew of my uncle, Gil Perez, caught like a rat in a trap.”

  Most of my new associates were absent on duty; the ‘tween deck was crammed, with casks, and cases, and chests, and bags, and hammocks; the noise of the caulkers was resumed over my head and all around me; the stench of bilge-water, combining with the smoke of tobacco, the effluvia of gin and beer, the frying of beef-steaks and onions, and red herrings — the pressure of a dark atmosphere and a heavy shower of rain, all conspired to oppress my spirits, and render me the most miserable dog that ever lived. I had almost resigned myself to despair, when I recollected the captain’s invitation, and mentioned it to Flyblock. “That’s well thought of,” said he; “Murphy also dines with him; you can both go together, and I dare say he will be very glad of your company.”

  A captain seldom waits for a midshipman, and we took good care he should not wait for us. The dinner was in all respects one “on service.” The captain said a great deal, the lieutenants very little, and the midshipmen nothing at all; but the performance of the knife and fork, and wine-glass (as far as it could be got at), were exactly in the inverse ratio. The company consisted of my own captain, and two others, our first lieutenant, Murphy, and myself.

  As soon as the cloth was removed, the captain filled me out a glass of wine, desired I would drink it, and then go and see how the wind was. I took this my first admonitory hint in its literal sense and meaning; but having a very imperfect idea of the points of the compass, I own I felt a little puzzled how I should obtain the necessary information. Fortunately for me, there was a weathercock on the old church-steeple; it had four letters, which I certainly did know were meant to represent the cardinal points. One of these seemed so exactly to correspond with the vane above it, that I made up my mind the wind must be west, and instantly returned to give my captain the desired information, not a little proud with my success in having obtained it so soon. But what was my surprise to find that I was not thanked for my trouble; the company even smiled and winked at each other; the first lieutenant nodded his head and said, “Rather green yet.” The captain, however, settled the point according to the manners and customs, in such cases used at sea. “Here, youngster,” said he, “here is another glass for you; drink that, and then Murphy will show you what I mean.” Murphy was my chaperon; he swallowed his wine — rather à gorge déployée, put down his glass very energetically, and bowing, left the room.

  When we had got fairly into the hall, we had the following duet:— “What the hell brought you back again, you damned young greenhorn? Could you not take a hint, and be off, as the captain intended? So I must lose my wine for such a young whelp as you. I’ll pay you off for this, my tight fellow, before we have been many weeks together.”

  I listened to this elegant harangue with some impatience, and much more indignation. “I came back,” said I, “to tell the captain how the wind was.”

  “You be damned,” replied Murphy: “do you think the captain did not know how the wind was — and if he had wanted to know, don’t you think he would have sent a sailor like me, instead of such a damned lubberly whelp as you?”

  “As to what the captain meant,” said I, “I do not know. I did as I was bid — but what do you mean by calling me a whelp? I am no more a whelp than yourself!”

  “Oh, you are not, a’n’t you?” said Murphy, seizing me by one of my ears, which he pulled so unmercifully that he altered the shape of it very considerably, making it something like the lee-board of a Dutch schuyt.

  This was not to be borne; though, as I was but thirteen, he seventeen, and a very stout fellow, I should rather not have sought an action with him. But he had begun it; my honour was at stake, and I only wonder I had not drawn my dirk, and laid him dead at my feet. Fortunately for him, the rage I was in made me forget I had it by my side: though I remembered my uniform, the disgrace brought upon it, and the admiration of the chambermaid, as well as the salute of the sentinel; all which formed a combustible in my brain. I went off like a flash, and darted my fist (the only weapon I had been most accustomed to wield) into the left eye of my adversary, with a force and precision which Cribb would have applauded. Murphy staggered back with the blow, and for a moment I flattered myself he had had enough of it.

  But no — alas, this was a day of disappointments! he had only retreated to take a spring; he then came on me like the lifeguards at Waterloo, and his charge was irresistible. I was upset, pummelled, thumped, kicked, and should probably have been the subject of a coroner’s inquest had not the waiter and chambermaid run in to my rescue. The tongue of the latter was particularly active in my favour: unluckily for me, she had no other weapon near her, or it would have gone hard with Murphy. “Shame!” said she, “for such a great lubberly creature to beat such a poor, little, innocent, defenceless fellow as that. What would his mamma say to see him treated so?”

  “Damn his mamma, and you too,” said Pat, “look at my eye.”

  “Damn your eye,” said the waiter: “it’s a pity he had not served the other one the same way; no more than you deserve for striking a child; the boy is game, and that’s more than you are; he is worth as many of you as will stand between this and the iron chair at Barbican.”

  “I’d like to see him duck’d in it,” said the maid.

  While this was going on, I had resumed my defensive attitude. I had never once complained, and had gained the good-will of all the bystanders, among whom now appeared my captain and his friends. The blood was streaming from my mouth, and I bore the marks of discipline from the superior prowess of my enemy, who was a noted pugilist for his age, and would not have received the hit from me, if he had supposed my presumption would have led me to attack him. The captain demanded an explanation. Murphy told the story in his own way, and gave anything but the true version. I could have beaten him at that, but truth answered my purpose better than falsehood on this occasion; so, as soon as he had done, I gave my round unvarnished tale, and although defeated in the field, I plainly saw that I had the advantage of him in the cabinet. Murphy was dismissed in disgrace, and ordered to rusticate on board till his eye was bright.

  “I should have confined you to the ship myself,” said the captain, “but the boy has done it for me; you cannot appear on shore with that black eye.”

  As soon as he was gone, I was admonished to be more careful in future. “You are,” said the captain, “like a young bear; all your sorrows are before you; if you give a blow for every hard name you receive, your fate in the service may be foreseen: if weak you will be pounded to a mummy — if strong, you will be hated. A quarrelsome disposition will make you enemies in every rank you may attain; you will be watched with a jealous eye, well knowing, as we all do, that the same spirit of insolence and overbearing which you show in the cockpit, will follow you to the quarter-deck, and rise with you in the service. This advice is for your own good; not that I interfere in these things, as everybody and everything finds its level in a man-of-war; I only wish you to draw a line between resistance against oppression, which I admire and respect, and a litigious, uncompromising disposition, which I despise. Now wash your face and go on board. Try by all means to conciliate the rest of your mess-mates, for first impressions are everything, and rely on it, Murphy’s report will not be in your favour.”

  This advice was very good, but had the disadvantage of coming too late for that occasion by at least half an hour. The fracas was owing to the captain’s mismanagement, and the manners and customs of the navy at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The conversation at the tables of the higher ranks of the service in those days, unless ladies were present, was generally such as a boy could not listen to without injury to his better feelings. I was therefore “hinted off;” but with due respect to my captain, who is still living, I should have been sent on board of my ship and cautioned against the bad habits of the natives of North Corner and Barbican; and if I could not be admitted to the mysterious conversation of a captain’s table, I should have been told in a clear and decided manner to depart, without the needless puzzle of an innuendo which I did not and could not understand.

  I returned on board about eight o’clock, where Murphy had gone before me, and prepared a reception far from agreeable. Instead of being welcomed to my berth, I was received with coldness, and I returned to the quarter-deck, where I walked till I was weary, and then leaned against a gun. From this temporary alleviation, I was roused by a voice of thunder, “Lean off that gun.” I started up, touched my hat, and continued my solitary walk, looking now and then at the second lieutenant, who had thus gruffly addressed me. I felt a dejection of spirits, a sense of destitution and misery, which I cannot describe. I had done no wrong, yet I was suffering as if I had committed a crime. I had been aggrieved, and had vindicated myself as well as I could. I thought I was among devils, and not men; my thoughts turned homeward. I remembered my poor mother in her agony of grief on the sofa; and my unfeeling heart then found that it needed the soothings of affection. I could have wept, but I knew not where to go; for I could not be seen to cry on board of ship. My pride began to be humbled. I felt the misery of dependence, although not wanting pecuniary resources; and would have given up all my prospects to have been once more seated quietly at home.

  The first lieutenant came on board soon after, and I heard him relating my adventure to the second lieutenant. The tide now evidently turned in my favour. I was invited down to the gun-room; and having given satisfactory answers to all the questions put to me, Flyblock was sent for, and I was once more placed under his protection. The patronage of the first lieutenant, I flattered myself, would have ensured me at least common civility for a short time.

  I had now more leisure to contemplate my new residence and new associates, who, having returned from the duty of the dockyard, were all assembled in the berth, seated round the table on the lockers, which paid “the double debt” of seats and receptacles; but in order to obtain a sitting, it was requisite either to climb over the backs of the company, or submit to “high pressure” from the last comer. Such close contact, even with our best friends, is never desirable; but in warm weather, in a close, confined air, with a manifest scarcity of clean linen, it became particularly inconvenient. The population here very far exceeded the limits usually allotted to human beings in any situation of life except in a slave-ship. The midshipmen, of whom there were eight full grown, and four youngsters, were without either jackets or waistcoats; some of them had their shirt-sleeves rolled up, either to prevent the reception or to conceal the absorption of dirt in the region of the wristbands. The repast on the table consisted of a can or large black-jack of small beer, and a japan bread-basket, full of sea-biscuit. To compensate for this simple fare, and at the same time to cool the close atmosphere of the berth, the table was covered with a large green cloth with a yellow border, and many yellow spots withal, where the colour had been discharged by slops of vinegar, hot tea, etcetera, etcetera; a sack of potatoes stood in one corner, and the shelves all round, and close over our heads, were stuffed with plates, glasses, quadrants, knives and forks, loaves of sugar, dirty stockings and shirts, and still fouler table-cloths, small tooth-combs, and ditto large, clothes brushes and shoe brushes, cocked-hats, dirks, German flutes, mahogany writing-desks, a plate of salt butter, and some two or three pairs of naval half-boots. A single candle served to make darkness visible, and the stench had nearly overpowered me.