I am writing of a period some fifteen or twenty years after Marryat had astonished the world by his thrilling descriptions of a naval officer’s life and its accompanying troubles.  At the time of which I write people flattered themselves that the sufferings which ‘Midshipman Easy’ and ‘The Naval Officer’ underwent while serving the Crown were tales of the past.  I will show by what I am about very briefly to relate that such was very far from being the case.

Everything being prepared, and good-bye being said to my friends, who seemed rather glad to be rid of me, I was allowed to travel from London on the box of a carriage which contained the great man who had given me the nomination (captains of men-of-war were very great men in those days), and after a long weary journey we arrived at the port where H.M.S.——­ was lying ready for sea.  On the same night of our arrival the sailing orders came from the Admiralty; we were to go to sea the next day, our destination being South America.

Being a very insignificant individual, I was put into a waterman’s boat with my chest and bed, and was sent on board.  On reporting myself, I was told by the commanding officer not to bother him, but to go to my mess, where I should be taken care of.  On descending a ladder to the lower deck, I looked about for the mess, or midshipmen’s berth, as it was then called.  In one corner of this deck was a dirty little hole about ten feet long and six feet wide, five feet high.  It was lighted by two or three dips, otherwise tallow candles, of the commonest description—­behold the mess!

In this were seated six or seven officers and gentlemen, some twenty-five to thirty years of age, called mates, meaning what are now called sub-lieutenants.  They were drinking rum and water and eating mouldy biscuits; all were in their shirtsleeves, and really, considering the circumstances, seemed to be enjoying themselves exceedingly.

On my appearance it was evident that I was looked upon as an interloper, for whom, small as I was, room must be found.  I was received with a chorus of exclamations, such as, ’What the deuce does the little fellow want here?’ ’Surely there are enough of us crammed into this beastly little hole!’ ‘Oh, I suppose he is some protege of the captain’s,’ &c. &c.

At last one, more kindly disposed than the rest, addressed me:  ’Sorry there is no more room in here, youngster;’ and calling a dirty-looking fellow, also in his shirtsleeves, said, ’Steward, give this young gentleman some tea and bread and butter, and get him a hammock to sleep in.’  So I had to be contented to sit on a chest outside the midshipmen’s berth, eat my tea and bread and butter, and turn into a hammock for the first time in my life, which means ’turned out’—­the usual procedure being to tumble out several times before getting accustomed to this, to me, novel bedstead.  However, once accustomed to the thing, it is easy enough, and many indeed have been the comfortable nights I have slept in a hammock, such a sleep as many an occupant of a luxurious four-poster might envy.  At early dawn a noise all around me disturbed my slumbers:  this was caused by all hands—­officers and men—­being called up to receive the captain, who was coming alongside to assume his command by reading his official appointment.