Marryat gives us in "Peter Simple" a vivid and convincing picture of the sailor going to Portsmouth to rejoin his ship. He must have witnessed many such scenes on his journeys to and from the great naval station, and it is very likely that this incident of the novel was drawn from actual observation.
Peter is setting out for Portsmouth for the first time, and everything is new to him. He starts of course from the time-honoured starting-point of the Portsmouth coaches, the historic "Elephant and Castle"; now, alas! nothing but a huge ordinary "public," where a grimy railway-station and tinkling tram-cars have taken the place of the old stage-coaches.
"Before eight," says Peter, "I had arrived at the 'Elephant and Castle,' where we stopped for a quarter of an hour. I was looking at the painting representing this animal with a castle on its back; and assuming that of Alnwick, which I had seen, as a fair estimate of the size and weight of that which he carried, was attempting to enlarge my ideas so as to comprehend the stupendous bulk of the elephant, when I observed a crowd assembled at the corner; and asking a gentleman who sat by me in a plaid cloak whether there was not something very uncommon to attract so many people, he replied, 'Not very, for it is only a drunken sailor.'
"I rose from my seat, which was on the hinder part of the coach, that I might see him, for it was a new sight to me, and excited my curiosity; when, to my astonishment, he staggered from the crowd, and swore that he'd go to Portsmouth. He climbed up by the wheel of the coach and sat down by me. I believe that I stared at him very much, for he said to me--
"'What are you gaping at, you young sculping? Do you want to catch flies? or did you never see a chap half-seas-over before?'
"I replied, 'that I had never been to sea in my life, but that I was going.'
"'Well then, you're like a young bear, all your sorrows to come--that's all, my hearty,' replied he. 'When you get on board, you'll find monkey's allowance--more kicks than halfpence. I say, you pewter-carrier, bring us another pint of ale.'
"The waiter of the inn, who was attending the coach, brought out the ale, half of which the sailor drank, and the other half threw into the waiter's face, telling him 'that was his allowance. And now,' said he, 'what's to pay?' The waiter, who looked very angry, but appeared too much afraid of the sailor to say anything, answered fourpence: and the sailor pulled out a handful of bank-notes, mixed up with gold, silver, and coppers, and was picking out the money to pay for his beer, when the coachman, who was impatient, drove off.