“The cruises of the _Impérieuse_ were periods of continued excitement, from the hour in which she hove up her anchor till she dropped it again in port: the day that passed without a shot being fired in anger, was with us a blank day: the boats were hardly secured on the booms than they were cast loose and out again; the yard and stay tackles were for ever hoisting up and lowering down. The expedition with which parties were formed for service; the rapidity of the frigate’s movements night and day; the hasty sleep snatched at all hours; the waking up at the report of the guns, which seemed the very keynote to the hearts of those on board, the beautiful precision of our fire, obtained by constant practice; the coolness and courage of our captain, inoculating the whole of the ship’s company; the suddenness of our attacks, the gathering after the combat, the killed lamented, the wounded almost envied; the powder so burnt into our faces that years could not remove it; the proved character of every man and officer on board, the implicit trust and adoration we felt for our commander; the ludicrous situations which would occur in the extremest danger and create mirth when death was staring you in the face, the hair-breadth escapes, and the indifference to life shown by all--when memory sweeps along these years of excitement even now, my pulse beats more quickly with the reminiscence.” The years of service which thus impressed themselves on Marryat’s memory may be divided into three periods. First, a cruise on the coast of France from Ushant to the mouth of the Gironde; then a longer period of active work in the Mediterranean; and finally, a return to the ocean, and the action in the Basque Roads. The young midshipman’s first actual experience of cruising was one which was doubtless present in his mind when he wrote the song whereof the chorus tells how “Poll put her arms akimbo,” and said, “Port Admiral, you be----.” When the corporal reported to Mr. Vanslyperken that the crew of the revenue cutter were singing this ditty, the outraged commander asked whether it was the Port Admiral at Portsmouth or Plymouth. The officer who was, we may be sure, spoken of by the crew of the _Impérieuse_ on the 17th and succeeding few days of November, 1806, in an equally mutinous fashion, was the Port Admiral at Plymouth. According to the custom of Admirals who did not have to go to sea themselves, this officer was exceeding zealous in enforcing the Admiralty’s orders to despatch ships to sea smartly. The orders came down for the _Impérieuse_ to go to sea, and the Admiral would have them obeyed. Go she must--“The moment the rudder--which was being hung--would steer the ship,” as Dundonald says in his Autobiography, and while she had “a lighter full of provisions on one side, a second with ordnance stores on the other, and a third filled with gunpowder towing astern.”