proficiency marked him out and procured him some alleviations.
Admiral Plampin had succeeded Napoleon at the Briars; and here he
had young Jenkin staying with him to make sketches of the historic
house. One of these is before me as I write, and gives a strange
notion of the arts in our old English Navy. Yet it was again as an
artist that the lad was taken for a run to Rio, and apparently for
a second outing in a ten-gun brig. These, and a cruise of six
weeks to windward of the island undertaken by the CONQUEROR herself
in quest of health, were the only breaks in three years of
murderous inaction; and at the end of that period Jenkin was
invalided home, having 'lost his health entirely.'

As he left the deck of the guard-ship the historic part of his
career came to an end. For forty-two years he continued to serve
his country obscurely on the seas, sometimes thanked for
inconspicuous and honourable services, but denied any opportunity
of serious distinction. He was first two years in the LARNE,
Captain Tait, hunting pirates and keeping a watch on the Turkish
and Greek squadrons in the Archipelago. Captain Tait was a
favourite with Sir Thomas Maitland, High Commissioner of the Ionian
Islands - King Tom as he was called - who frequently took passage
in the LARNE. King Tom knew every inch of the Mediterranean, and
was a terror to the officers of the watch. He would come on deck
at night; and with his broad Scotch accent, 'Well, sir,' he would
say, 'what depth of water have ye? Well now, sound; and ye'll just
find so or so many fathoms,' as the case might be; and the
obnoxious passenger was generally right. On one occasion, as the
ship was going into Corfu, Sir Thomas came up the hatchway and cast
his eyes towards the gallows. 'Bangham' - Charles Jenkin heard him
say to his aide-de-camp, Lord Bangham - 'where the devil is that