Frank Mildmay; Or, The Naval OfficerMarryat, Frederick
History
Frank Mildmay; Or, The Naval Officer
Marryat, Frederick
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Officers -- Fiction; Sea stories
I had now more leisure to contemplate my new residence and new
associates, who, having returned from the duty of the dock-yard, 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, &c, &c.; 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.
The reception I met with tended in no way to relieve these horrible
impressions. A black man, with no other dress than a dirty check shirt
and trousers, not smelling of amber, stood within the door, ready to
obey all and any one of the commands with which he was loaded. The
smell of the towel he held in his hand, to wipe the plates and glasses
with, completed my discomfiture; and I fell sick upon the seat nearest
at me. Recovering from this, without the aid of any "ministering
angel," I contracted the pupils of my eyes, and ventured to look
around me. The first who met my gaze, was my recent foe; he bore the
marks of contention by having his eye bound up with brown paper and a
dirty silk pocket-handkerchief; the other was quickly turned on me;
and, with a savage and brutal countenance, he swore and denounced the
severest vengeance on me for what I had done. In this, he was joined
by another ill-looking fellow, with large whiskers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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