While in port we experienced a change of officers by no means agreeable to the crew. Mr. Scott, our first lieutenant, an amiable man, decidedly hostile to the practice of flogging, left us; for what cause, we could not ascertain. His successor, Mr. Hope, though bearing a very pleasant name, was an entirely different person, in manners and conduct, from his predecessor. He was harsh, severe, and fond of seeing the men flogged. Of course, floggings became more frequent than before; for, although a lieutenant cannot flog upon his own authority, yet, such is the influence he exerts over a captain, that he has the utmost opportunity to gratify a thirst for punishment. It may appear strange to the reader that any gentleman--and all officers of the navy consider themselves _gentlemen_--should possess such a thirst; yet such was the case with Mr. Hope. Nor was his a solitary example; many a man, who, on shore, in presence of ladies of fashion, appeared too gentle to harm an enemy, too kind to injure an insect, was strangely metamorphosed into a genuine unprincipled tyrant, upon assuming command in a man of war. We had already witnessed a number of punishments, especially at sea: in port, the officers were more condescending, lest their men should desert; but at sea, when this was impossible, they flogged without mercy. Cases of offence which occurred while in the harbor, were looked up; sometimes a half dozen were flogged at once; every man trembled lest he should be a victim; the ship’s crew were made wretched; a sword seemed impending over every head. Who, in such a case, could be happy? Not even a sailor, with all his habitual thoughtlessness. Yet it is said we must flog, to maintain discipline among sailors. Pshaw! Flogging may be needful to awe a slave writhing under a sense of unmerited wrong, but never should a lash fall on a freeman’s back, especially if he holds the safety and honor of his country in his keeping. Poor old Bob Hammond! Never was man more reckless than this honest-hearted Irishman; never was sailor more courageous under punishment. For being drunk he received four dozen lashes; he bore the infliction with profound silence, uttering neither groan nor sigh; neither casting one imploring look at his tormentors. On being taken down, he applied himself most lustily to his bottle, and before night was drunk again. Rushing to the quarter deck, with a madness peculiar to a phrensied drunkard, he ran up against the captain with such force that he nearly knocked him down. With a boldness that seemed to strike the great man dumb, Bob hiccupped and said, “Halloo, Billy, my boy, is that you? You are young and foolish; just fit for the launch. You are like a young lion--all your sorrows are to come.”