The _Princess Royal_ always fraternised with the French liner, the _Austerlitz_, a very fine screw 2-decker of 90 guns. I scarcely set foot ashore during the cruise. Excepting at Led Sound (where we lay waiting for the French troops), there was little opportunity of a run. An immense deal of drill went on, and boat duty was constant. Thus one’s education was entirely neglected: the Naval Instructor, the midshipmen’s instructor, was voted a secondary consideration. Let me refer to boat duty for a moment. Great excitement prevailed when the mails arrived from England. All eyes were watching for the signal 768, implying “Send boat for letters.” Then came a regular race, every boat pulling its best to the flagship for mails and parcels; and, as it was a case of First come first served, the slow-going boats had sometimes to wait two or even three hours for their mails if, as was usual, many ships were present. I have seen as many as thirty or forty boats waiting alongside the _Duke of Wellington_. Soon after the fall of Bomarsund, the _Princess Royal_ was sent to Revel, to join the sailing squadron then lying at anchor, or cruising off that port; and after this, in October, my uncle, knowing that there was little chance of my seeing any more active service (and as I was not in very good health), took the opportunity of transferring me to his old friend Harry Eyere’s ship, the _St. George_, a sailing 3-decker of 120 guns. The sailing squadron had received orders to leave for England: so in October four beauties--the _Neptune_ (120 guns), the _St. George_ (120), the _Monarch_ (84), and the _Prince Regent_ (90)--made for England; and a very interesting and instructive sail we had down the North Sea. The second in command on board my ship was Paddy May, a very fine seaman of the old school, a man whose name was much respected in the Service. Everything was done quite in the old style; and thus I can fairly claim the distinction of having belonged to the old school--anyhow to the remains of it--as all the ships of this squadron were _minus_ engines and boilers. The _Monarch_ was far away the fastest ship, though in a breeze the _Prince Regent_ held her pretty close. Off the island of Bornholm we were caught in a fresh gale; and, the _St. George_ being a very crank old craft, it was deemed advisable to send our upper-deck carronades down into the hold. As we were short of water and provisions, the extra weight of these guns below counteracted our want of ballast. A 3-decker in a gale of wind was rather a curious being. Under close-reefed topsails you could not lay her near enough the wind to enable her to meet the seas comfortably. The effect of the wind on her huge sides was to drive her bodily and very fast to leeward: in fact, you simply drifted.