Then arose the professional sailor. Ships carried but a few sails, so that comparatively few men were required to handle them, and the fighting-men on board and the commanders of ships and squadrons were once more soldiers. When the fully rigged ship arrived—in Tudor times—the sailor element naturally was considerably increased, and, the heavy gun making its appearance on shipboard at about the same time, the "gunners" seem to have been taken from that class rather than from the soldiers, who formed about half the ship's company. But in the royal ships the supreme command was always in the hands of a military officer, till the successes gained by the privately-equipped ships commanded by men like Drake and Frobisher introduced a new type of distinctly naval officer. But he did not supersede the military ship-commander much before the time of William III. Up to that time ships seem to have had sometimes a soldier, like Blake, in command and sometimes a sailor, like Sir George Rooke and others.

The latter is a good example of what may be called the transition period, because he, like Sir Cloudesley Shovel and many other sea-commanders, had a commission in the Duke of York and Albany's Maritime Regiment, instituted in 1664 and generally accepted as being the ancestor of the present corps of Royal Marines. But it seems possible that there must have been an idea underlying the institution of this regiment of sea-soldiers that has never been explained. The key to it may perhaps be found in the oft-repeated reference to marine regiments at this period as "nurseries for the fleet". The idea did not work, as the men trained as soldiers did not volunteer to become sailors to an appreciable extent; but in my own opinion there was more in the idea than this. It must be remembered that at this time there was a great controversy as to the most suitable officers to command our war-ships. The "gentleman captains", who were in many cases soldiers, but often merely courtiers, clung tenaciously to their position, and the Court influence at their back enabled them to stand their ground. But at the same time the claims of the real sailors—the "tarpawlins", as they were called—who were neither soldiers nor gentlemen, were being more and more recognized by the public, and grew stronger and stronger. And they certainly had a very strong case. They could themselves sail, navigate, and fight their ships, while the other class had to have "masters" to do everything but the fighting for them.

It seems possible that the intention of those responsible for the raising of the "Maritime Regiment", the men of which were indifferently referred to as "marines" or as "mariners", was not only to provide the nucleus of a disciplined personnel, but to produce a corps of officers who, while retaining a military status, would yet be professional seamen. It was an experiment, but not on a sufficiently comprehensive scale, to transform the ill-paid, ill-treated, and ill-fed seamen of the day into a loyal, contented and disciplined body, or to supply a sufficient number of "gentleman-tarpawlins" to command our ships and fleets. A large number of these officers did do so, but quite as many continued to serve as soldiers, some afloat in command of marines, and many others in the army.

As time went on, things adjusted themselves, and before the eighteenth century had progressed very far the sailor came into his own. The "days of oak and hemp" were at their zenith. Our men-of-war were commanded by officers who were thorough seamen, able to handle their ships under sail themselves, though masters who were navigation experts still remained. Their crews were composed of two distinct classes—seamen and marines.[74] The former were, as before, still recruited for the commission only, while the latter were enlisted for a fixed period of service.[75] The best seamen, nevertheless, made a regular profession of the navy, going from one ship to another as they were paid off and commissioned. If they made an occasional trip to sea in a merchantman or privateer between whiles, that by no means impaired their professional ability, and the "prime seamen" of those days were the finest sailors in history. Unfortunately their number, for various reasons, was somewhat limited, and a ship's company, especially if she or her commander bore a bad name afloat, had to be completed by all kinds of people. Even the marines, regularly enlisted men as they were, were by no means always of the same calibre.

According to our apparently interminable national practice, we always began our wars shorthanded in this as well as in every other militant service, and recruits had on these occasions to be sent on board in the rawest stages of their training. Yet, in spite of all these drawbacks, look at the victories our navy won in those glorious days! Good, bad, or indifferent, sailor or marine, the men were all true Britons when the time came to "strike home" for King and Country, just as their gallant descendants have proved themselves in the Great European War. As the nineteenth century progressed, and our navy had no big wars on hand, the seaman element by no means deteriorated. The professional sailor was forthcoming in sufficient numbers to man our navy in peace-time or in minor operations, and there was no necessity to send untrained marines afloat. Steam had made its appearance, but it was far from superseding sail-power. The executive were still sailors, heart and soul, and had no hankering after soldiering and drill ashore. All the same, the sailing-masters were still retained, and seemed to be indispensable. Admiral John Moresby, in his interesting work entitled Two Admirals, which relates his own and his father's naval experiences from 1786 to 1877, gives the following account of the naval officers of 1847:—

"The officers, with few exceptions, were content to be practical seamen only. They had nothing whatever to do with the navigation of the ship or the rating of the chronometers. That was entirely in the hands of the master, and no other had any real experience or responsibility in the matter. I may instance the case of a captain whose ship was at Spithead. He was ordered by signal to go to the assistance of a ship on shore at the back of the Isle of Wight. In reply he hoisted the signal of 'Inability: the master is on shore.' 'Are the other officers on board?' he was asked. He answered 'Yes,' and to the repeated order, 'Proceed immediately,' he again hoisted 'Inability', and remained entrenched in his determination until a pilot was sent to his assistance."

If a "practical seaman" was so dependent on his master as this he would not appear to have been much of an improvement on the soldier-captains of earlier times. It seems a most extraordinary position, and it is almost as extraordinary that now, when sailoring proper is a thing of the past, we may be quite certain that no captain in His Majesty's service would hesitate to get under way on receipt of an order to go to the assistance of a ship in distress, whether the navigating officer was on board or not. But, probably on account of the long period of peace which had followed after Waterloo, neither our navy nor army was in such a high state of efficiency as it had been earlier in the century or is at the present minute. The Crimean War broke like a thunder-clap on our peace-organized forces. We know what terrible times our gallant soldiers went through before Sebastopol on account of deficiency of commissariat, equipment, and every other aid to efficiency which ought to have been in readiness, but which, in fact, had no existence. We commissioned a fine fleet for the Baltic, but it practically effected nothing, and we had the greatest difficulty in manning it.

"Public opinion", writes Admiral Moresby, "resented the revival of the press-gang; therefore the only alternative was the offer of a large bounty, and by this means the ships were filled with counter-jumpers and riff-raff of all sorts, and rarely a sailor amongst them. What this meant only those who had to do the necessary slave-driving can tell.... In the Driver ... we may have had twenty seamen as a nucleus. The rest were long-shore fellows, and when Admiral Berkley came on board and told us that the Russians were at sea, and probably in a few days we should be in action, there was a strong dash of anxiety in our satisfaction."

So short were we of men that I have been told by an officer who served in that fleet that had it not been for the coast-guardsmen and marines it would never have been ready for sea. "On board the St. Jean d'Acre," said this officer, "we had a splendid crew, thanks to the popularity of Harry Keppel: the work of fitting out from a mere hulk was done by the Royal Marines with a small number of seamen-gunners from the Excellent and some boys. The officers at Portsmouth and other places raised men who would not join until the hard work was over." But good arose out of this evil, which was so patent that it could not be overlooked by anyone. The usefulness of the seamen-gunners and Royal Marines pointed the way to a remedy. The marines were a permanent force; the seamen-gunners were on the spot and under naval discipline. It was determined to institute an equally permanent establishment of bluejackets. The creation of this force was the most momentous and beneficial step ever taken by the Admiralty, and to it we owe the magnificent body of trained seamen who have done such yeoman service to the country during the war. Where should we have been without it? Imagine the disasters which would have befallen us if, as at the outbreak of the Crimean War, we had had to hunt up crews for our fleet after the 4th of August, 1914! As it was, everything went "on wheels", as the saying is. The Grand Fleet was ready and other ships were put into commission without the least delay or hitch in the smooth running of our mobilization for war. Reserves were so plentiful that a residuum of both bluejackets and marines was available as the nucleus of the Royal Naval Division, which was soon recruited up to a high figure.

It is not too much to say that the end of the Crimean War saw the beginning of our modern naval forces, with the exception of the Royal Marines, who had been in existence as a naval force under the Admiralty ever since 1755, and the later instituted Royal Naval Reserve, Royal Fleet Reserve, and Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve. It may be noted, in passing, that the first-mentioned reserve consists of men in the merchant service, who, seamen by profession, receive a training in gunnery and other matters connected with naval warfare, and are paid an annual retaining-fee, which renders them liable to be called up for service when required.

The Royal Fleet Reserve consists of both bluejackets and marines, who, having served for twelve years on the active list, are permitted to transfer to this force. They receive a small daily rate of pay, and have to undergo a short revision of their drills annually. The last-mentioned reserve has been in existence on and off under one name or other for a considerable number of years. In 1861 Captain Vernon of the 4th Cinque Ports Artillery Volunteers at Hastings instituted a so-called "marine company" in his regiment, which wore a semi-naval uniform and was drilled at naval guns. From this small beginning grew in time the Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers, first formed in 1873, which assumed considerable proportions and had branches at every important seaport. This corps was eventually abolished because the naval authorities did not quite see how men who in very many cases had at most but "a bowing acquaintance" with Father Neptune could well be utilized afloat. This decision was a great blow to its members, who were very proud of their voluntary duties, and after a time the Admiralty was strongly pressed by those interested in the movement to resuscitate it. Hence the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve was created.[76]

The bluejacket of the present day is better termed a seaman than a sailor, since sails are non-existent in the navy except in boats.[77] Besides, his official rating is seaman—ordinary seaman, able seaman, &c. Some writers in journals dealing with naval matters have coined the, to me, objectionable-sounding name of "fleetman". This may answer for a comprehensive term, including seamen, marines, and stokers, writers and other auxiliary branches of the service, but they might all be equally well classed together as seamen or mariners, since there is little if any difference nowadays between the time each branch spends afloat. There are big naval barracks now at our ports as well as marine barracks, and bluejackets often spend there as much time as, or more time than the marine does in his barracks.

The outstanding difference between the ship's company of to-day and of past centuries is that it is composed entirely of trained men. There are no "landsmen" and odds and ends of humanity pitchforked on board to complete the number of the company. Seamen, marines, and stokers all are specially instructed in their own line of business before they appear on board a ship in commission. The same holds good in the case of their officers. No more boys of nineteen are appointed captains on account of family connections; no more are officers of marines appointed from line regiments or even from the cavalry, as they were in days gone by. It is only fair to say that we must go back a long way to find cases of this sort, for as regards its officers the navy has been a permanent profession for centuries, though its seamanhood was not in the same position before the middle of the last century.

What our naval officers and men are to-day in their work and duties is best demonstrated by a glance at the crew of a modern man-of-war in commission. First and foremost, of course, is the captain, not infrequently referred to by those under his command as the "skipper", "the Old Man", or sometimes as the "Owner". His rule may be termed a benevolent despotism. He can no longer be the tyrant that he occasionally was "in the days of wood and hemp", and has no desire to be anything of the kind. He is far too much of a gentleman and a good fellow. But there can be little limitation to his monarchy or the machine would not work. He lives somewhat apart from his subjects, having his meals in lonely state, and only occasionally comes into the ward-room, in which most of the ship's commissioned officers live and move and have their being. The sub-lieutenant's, midshipmen's, junior engineer officers', assistant paymasters', and clerks' mess is known as the gun-room. In the old days what is now the ward-room was called the gun-room, and what is now the gun-room, the midshipmen's berth. It is probable that this enforced seclusion is one of the worst trials of the captain's greatness, since he has spent the whole of his previous service afloat in the camaraderie and good-fellowship of the ward-room and gun-room. At sea he passes a great portion of his time on the bridge, and in most ships has a special sea-cabin in its close proximity. He is the supreme court of justice on board, and as he can dispense punishment up to ninety days' imprisonment with hard labour "off his own bat", it must be a pretty bad case, or one in which an officer is concerned, that he has to send before a court martial.

This should be remembered when, as is sometimes the case, comparisons are drawn in the Press between the numbers of courts martial in the naval and military services, or between those held on the men of the navy and on those of the marines. A naval court martial is a very big affair, only resorted to on rare occasions, while in the army, besides the general court martial, which may be ranked with the naval court, there are district and even regimental courts martial, the latter very small affairs, composed of three junior officers, which deal with offences which in the navy would probably be settled off-hand, if not by the commander, at any rate by the captain. When marines are serving ashore in their barracks they come under army rules, so that the proportion of courts martial held on a given number of marines must always be expected to be greater than in the case of a similar number of bluejackets or stokers. No comparison as to good conduct or otherwise can therefore be instituted along these lines.

The captain of a ship, being in supreme command, exercises a general supervision over his ship and all that it contains, and is, of course, directly responsible to the admiral under whom he is serving and to the Admiralty for its condition both as to material and personnel. But the second in command—the "commander"—addressed by the courtesy title of "captain" also—may be regarded as the managing man. He lives, or rather has his meals, in the ward-room. As to where he actually lives, it may be said to be everywhere on board except in his own cabin. He is perhaps the hardest-worked man in the ship. Up at daylight, he is engaged in running the whole show till he goes the rounds at 9 p.m. to see that everything and everybody is properly settled down for the night. He draws up a regular daily and weekly routine, which he personally sees is regularly carried out. He "tells off" the "hands" for this, that, and the other duties, and sees that everyone is at his proper station at "general quarters" for action, fire quarters, collision stations, and many another "evolution". He holds a daily court of justice, and either deals with the defaulters who have been "shoved in the rattle", i.e. put in his report, himself, or in more serious cases passes them on to the higher court—the captain. In most ships there is yet a minor court, held by the senior officer of marines on his own men. His powers are yet more limited, and if after investigation he finds that they will not admit a sufficient punishment for an offence, he takes the offender before the commander. In some ships he is empowered by the captain to bring such cases directly to him.

In spite of the commander's hard work, he has little to grumble at, nor, I believe, does he ever do so, except in the ordinary conversational way we all do at times, when we "let off steam". For he knows that, unless he is very unfortunate in his "skipper", he has his promotion in his own hands. He is showing what he is made of, and once he succeeds in negotiating the big jump to captain's rank he is assured of going right on to admiral, even if he is not fortunate enough to "hoist his flag" in command of a squadron or fleet. He has the relative rank of a lieutenant-colonel in the army, and is almost invariably a much younger man, probably from thirty to thirty-five years of age, and can take and bear the strain of his position.

After the commander the lieutenants. Of these in a battleship three or four are lieutenant-commanders, and five or six lieutenants. The senior of these is known as the first lieutenant, or, less officially, as "No. 1". In smaller ships they are, of course, fewer. One of these will be the gunnery lieutenant, another navigating lieutenant, and a third torpedo lieutenant. The remainder are classed as watch-keepers, in which duty they are now assisted when in harbour by the officers of marines belonging to the ship. As everyone knows, the day and night on board ship are divided into periods of four hours, known as "watches", except for the "dog watches" of two hours apiece. They run as follows:—

The officer of the watch is practically in command of the ship for the time being. He has to deal with any sudden emergency himself; there may very probably be no time to refer to the captain, even if it is advisable to do so. He keeps his watch on the fore-bridge, and sees that the quartermaster at the wheel keeps the ship upon her proper course. He takes observations from time to time, and is entirely responsible—under the captain—for the safety of the ship and all on board. All sorts of reports have to be made to him from time to time, and he makes or sends any necessary reports to the captain.

The lieutenants have charge of their "divisions", which may be said to correspond to the companies of a regiment; have to inspect them at morning and evening parades, known respectively as "divisions" and "evening quarters", and are responsible for their men's clothing being uniform and kept up to the regulation quantities. They have many other incidental duties, such as boarding ships coming into harbour as "officer of the guard", going ashore in charge of men for drill, musketry, and other miscellaneous work of which space precludes the merest mention.

The gunnery lieutenant is, of course, responsible for the guns and gunnery of the ship, which includes the musketry and infantry drill of the seamen and stokers. The torpedo lieutenant, as his name implies, has charge of the torpedoes and their tubes and the mining gear, and it is his business to see that they are all kept in proper working order and in instant readiness for action. In addition, he has entire charge of the electric lighting and wireless telegraphy.

The navigating lieutenant has taken the place of the old "master", but is not, as he was, outside the executive line. His duty is to lay off the course for the ship, take her position at various times during the day by "shooting the sun" with his sextant, keep the chronometers wound up, and take general charge of the navigation of the ship. Following the order taken in the Navy List of the officers of a ship, we come to that very important personage the engineer commander. In some sort he occupies a similar position to the old sailing-masters in the days when ships were commanded by soldiers. The ship couldn't get along without the special engineering knowledge of this officer and his understudies any more than William the Conqueror could have got across Channel without Stephen FitzErard, his sailing-master.

We may note, in passing, that to this day the executive ranks of the navy always call themselves the "military branch". They are, of course, the "militant" branch, though in one sense no one on board a ship in action can help being a militant too.

The engineering branch, at any rate, stands as good a chance of casualties as even the executive or marine portions of the ship's complement, and it is perhaps partly for this reason that its officers have recently been allowed to wear the much-prized executive "curl" of gold lace on their sleeves. The engineer commander has charge of all the engines on board, the number of which runs to several dozen, for besides the big main engines for propelling the ship there are smaller engines for almost every conceivable purpose. There are engines to work the steering-gear, the winches and hoists, the dynamos to produce electric light, for the magazine refrigerating machinery, and many others, to say nothing of those in the steamboats belonging to the ship. He and the carpenter are also responsible for the hull of the ship, the expenditure and replenishment of coal and oil, and goodness knows how many other things! To assist him in all this mass of work and responsibility he has two or three engineer lieutenants and a number of artificer engineers, engine-room artificers, mechanicians, chief stokers, and, in a big ship, hundreds of stokers.

The duty of senior engineer lieutenant is no sinecure either, since he occupies much the same position in regard to his chief as the commander does to the captain of the ship. The remaining engineer lieutenants keep watch down in the engine-room in the same way as the other lieutenants do on deck.

Still following the order of the Navy List, we come to the officers of marines. In the old days there were, perhaps, five or six of these in a line-of-battleship, but the biggest "Dreadnought" of to-day never carries more than two, unless, perhaps, there is another one attached to the admiral's staff—supposing it to be a flagship—for special duties in connection with the Intelligence Department, &c. Generally in a flagship there is a major and a subaltern. Of the two, one, probably, will be a marine artilleryman. Other big ships will have a captain and a subaltern, and in smaller ones a captain or subaltern alone. Their duties are considerably more onerous than they used to be, since they are wisely made of much more use in the general work of the ship, instead of being relegated to the unsatisfactory rÔle of being "lookers on at life".

The major is, of course, responsible for the conduct, drill, and military efficiency of his detachment, which may number about 100 men, but he has, in addition, to inspect those of other ships in the squadron or fleet from time to time, and to command and drill the marines of the fleet when landed together for drill or tactical instruction. He or the captain of marines in another ship has charge also of the gunnery of his men, who are told off to man some of the guns in the ship, and may very possibly be himself stationed in one of the control-positions in time of action. He also commands the detachment when drawn up as a guard of honour to receive the admiral or any distinguished visitor who is entitled to this mark of distinction. His subaltern assists him generally with the detachment, visits the sentries from time to time during the night and day, keeps his turn of watch in harbour and of officer of the guard, drills and looks after the marine guns, and not infrequently acts as assistant gunnery or torpedo officer. All this is very different from the old days, when the captain or major of marines was popularly supposed to spend his time on the stern lockers practising the flute, and when on arrival in harbour it was considered to be a near thing as to whether he or the "killick"[78] touched the ground first.

The Church takes the next place, in the shape of the chaplain, generally a great acquisition to the mess. The "padre" or "sky pilot" requires to be a man of considerable tact, and generally speaking he is. He has to be on more or less friendly terms with everyone fore and aft, or he would find it difficult to carry out his spiritual duties effectively. On the other hand, I may fairly say that it is his own fault if, in this respect, he is not met more than half-way both by[237]
[238] his messmates in the ward-room and by the "lower deck".[79] He reads prayers at divisions or morning parade, visits the sick-bay and cells, superintends the instruction given by the ship's schoolmaster, and, of course, carries out divine service on Sundays. Sometimes he occupies the post of naval instructor in addition to his strictly clerical duties, and in that capacity instructs the midshipmen in various more or less scientific subjects, such as applied mathematics and navigation, &c., and generally musters his pupils on deck with their sextants at noon to take their observations and work out the exact position of the ship. He and the paymaster often look after the men's savings-bank, and make themselves useful in other small matters connected with the interior domestic economy of the ship and her ward-room mess.

The fleet surgeon, with one or two surgeons, has entire charge of the health of both officers and men. His special domain is the "sick-bay", generally situated forward, so that the sick get the freshest air, and he is assisted in his duties by a staff of sick-berth stewards and sick-berth attendants. He is an autocrat in his way, as not even the captain can traverse his decisions as to health or disease. He makes a daily report of the officers and men on the sick-list to the captain, and arranges that one of his surgeons is always at hand in case of accidents. In action he and his staff and what extra assistants can be spared arrange a place down below the armoured deck where they can do what is possible for the wounded that are passed down to them. But in these days, when guns are closed up in separate turrets and casemates, it is not too easy a business to arrange for the transport of these poor fellows.

The fleet paymaster is another non-combatant—so far as it is possible for anyone to be so classed on a ship-of-war—and has the responsible duty of looking after the pay, accountant, and clerical work of the ship, stores of all kinds, and many other matters of a like nature, including "slops" or clothes for the ship's company. The paymaster line has no curl on the sleeve and wears white cloth between the gold stripes of rank. The surgeons also have plain stripes, but with scarlet cloth between them. The engineers wear purple between their stripes, and the naval instructors sky-blue, but this is rarely seen, since most naval instructors are also chaplains and wear the ordinary clerical rig. Personally I have never set eyes on the sky-blue.

This about finishes the list of ward-room officers, but those in the gun-room are at least as numerous. The autocrat of the gun-room is the senior sub-lieutenant, who is supposed to rule his subjects with a rod of iron, or, to be more exact, a leather dirk scabbard, which at times forms a useful and effective instrument of justice. In the gun-room live the midshipmen, clerks, and assistant-engineer officers, and their duties have, generally speaking, been already indicated in describing those of the senior officers of the various branches to whom they are assistants and understudies. But a word or two about the midshipmen—the "young gentlemen" as they are generally called—will not be out of place. They have plenty to do. They have to keep watch like their seniors, and one important, though unofficial, part of a watch-keeping midshipman's duties used to be to brew and bring up a cup of cocoa to the officer on the bridge in the middle watch. But this is probably now an exploded custom. A midshipman generally has charge of one of the boats, and takes great pride in keeping it and its crew well up to the mark. The "young gentlemen" drill under the gunnery lieutenant before breakfast, work with the chaplain or naval instructor during the forenoon, and at any moment must be ready to go away in charge of their boats. Every midshipman is expected to keep a daily "log", which is periodically inspected by the captain. Some of them take the greatest pains not only to make their logs models of neatness, but to decorate them with sketches, drawings, and plans, often of considerable merit and interest. This is but a very partial and fragmentary account of the duties of the boys from whom our future admirals and commanders-in-chief will be recruited, but it is time this chapter was drawing to a close, and we cannot leave our ship without at least mentioning a few other people who, though not commissioned officers, are yet of very great importance in her interior economy.

First and foremost there are the warrant officers, pre-eminent among whom are the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter, three time-honoured titles. The first-named may be regarded as the commander's right-hand man, and has multifarious duties and responsibilities. The duties of the other two are sufficiently indicated by their titles. Then there are engineer warrant officers, and of late years marine warrant officers known as "Royal Marine gunners". The "sergeant-major" of marines, which is the courtesy title borne by the senior non-commissioned officer of the corps on board, is also a man of considerable importance on a man-of-war. Then there are the chief petty officers, and petty officers such as the yeoman of signals, the chief quartermaster, chief boatswain's mate, and many others, together with sailmaker, blacksmiths, armourers, electricians, coopers, cooks, bandsmen, plumbers, and all kinds of ratings whose presence on board His Majesty's ships and vessels of war is little suspected by the man in the street. Then there is the ship's police, headed by the master-at-arms or "jaundy".[80] These men are recruited from all branches of the navy, and perform much the same duties as the "bobby" on shore, look after the prisoners in cells, and are supposed to detect all irregularities that may take place on board and to bring the delinquents to justice.

If a ship is a flagship there is naturally a more important personage on board than any of the officers whose ranks and duties have been detailed—the admiral in command of the fleet or squadron. He may be a full admiral—the highest rank employed afloat—a vice-admiral, or a rear-admiral, the difference in rank being indicated by the number of stripes on the cuff of his coat, placed above the lower very wide stripe of gold lace. Thus a rear-admiral has one narrow stripe above it, with the executive curl, a vice-admiral two additional narrow ones, and an admiral three. The admiral lives in a regular suite of cabins, generally right aft, consisting of a dining-room or fore-cabin, a sitting-room or after-cabin, and two or three sleeping cabins. The captain of a flagship is known as the flag-captain, and he, with the flag-lieutenant, secretary, and sometimes an officer of marines, form the admiral's staff. All these officers are distinguished from the rest of the officers in the squadron by wearing aiguillettes. The captain, of course, has to command his ship like other captains, but the secretary, who is a staff-paymaster or paymaster told off for this special duty, is the admiral's right-hand man as regards the tremendous amount of paper work connected with the command of a fleet or squadron. The flag-lieutenant is the admiral's personal aide-de-camp and so is specially to the fore, both in the big man's inspections of ships and naval establishments and in social duties and functions. He is also an authority in connection with signalling in its various branches, and necessarily and generally a smart young man all round. He and the secretary mess at the admiral's table and not in the ward-room. A man-of-war, it will be realized, even from this necessarily very brief attempt to describe those who make their "home on the rolling deep" on board her, is a little world in herself.