Frederick Marryat
Without yielding implicit credence to the handsome pedigree of theMarryats supplied by Mrs Lean, the novelist's daughter, we may give aglance in passing to the first-fruits of this family tree. They--naturally--came over with the Conqueror, and emerged from obscurityunder Stephen as the proud "possessors of much lands at the village ofMeryat, Ashton Meryat, and elsewhere in Somersetshire ... One Nicotas deMaryet is deputed to collect the ransom of Richard Coeur de Leon throughthe county of Somerset ... In the reign of Edward I., Sir John deMaryet is called to attend the Great Parliament; in that of Edward II.,his son is excommunicated for embowelling his deceased wife; 'a fancy,'says the county historian, 'peculiar to the knightly family of Meryat.'"Mrs Lean quotes records of other Meryat "hearts" to which an honourableburial has been accorded. The house of Meryat finally lost its propertyon the fall of Lady Jane Grey, to whom it had descended through thefemale line.
Captain Marryat belonged to the Suffolk branch of the family, of whom"one John de Maryat had the honour of dancing in a masque before theVirgin Queen at Trinity College, Cambridge ... was sent to aid theHuguenots in their wars in France ... escaped the massacre of StBartholemew and, in 1610, returned to England." Here he married "Mary,the daughter and heiress of Daniel Luke, of the Covent Garden (a rankPuritan family in _Hudibras_), and again settled in his paternal countyof Suffolk." Less partial biographers neglect to trace the Marryatsbeyond this Huguenot officer, who is described by them as a refugee.
Whatever may be the truth of these matters, it is certain that duringthe 17th and 18th centuries the Maryats were a respectable, middle-classPuritan family--ministers, doctors, and business men. In the days of themerry monarch a John Marryat became distinguished as a "painfulpreacher," and was twice expelled from his livings for non-conformity.Captain Marryat's grandfather was a good doctor, and his father, JosephMarryat of Wimbledon House, was an M.P., chairman for the committee ofLloyd's, and colonial agent for the island of Grenada--a substantialman, who refused a baronetcy, and was honoured by an elegy fromCampbell. He married Charlotte Geyer, or Von Geyer, a Hessian of gooddescent.
Frederick, born July 10, 1792, was one of fifteen sons and daughters,"of whom ten attained maturity, and several have entered the lists ofliterature." His eldest brother, Joseph, was a famous collector ofchina, and author of _Pottery and Porcelain_; the youngest, Horace,wrote _One Year in Sweden, Jutland and the Danish Isles_; and hissister, Mrs Bury Palliser, was the author of _Nature and Art_ (not to beconfounded with Mrs Inchbald's novel of that name), _The History ofLace_, and _Historic Devices, Badges and War Cries_. His father andgrandfather published political and medical works, respectively, whilethe generation below was equally prolific. Marryat's youngest son,Frank, described his travels in _Borneo and the Eastern Archipelago_ and_Mountains and Molehills_, or _Recollections of a Burnt Journal_; andhis daughter Florence, Mrs Lean, the author of his _Life and Letters_,has written a great many popular novels.
We can record little of Marryat's boyhood beyond a general impression ofhis discontent with school-masters and parents. Mr Hannay is probablyright in regarding his hard pictures of home and school life asreflections of his own experience.
It is said that on one occasion he was found to be engaged in thepursuit of knowledge while standing on his head; and that he accountedfor the circumstance with a humorous philosophy almost worthy of JackEasy--"Well! I've been trying for three hours to learn it on my feet,but I couldn't, so I thought I would try whether it would be easier tolearn it on my head." Another anecdote, of a contest with hisschool-fellow Babbage, is interesting and characteristic. It appearsthat the inventor of the calculating machine, unlike Marryat, was a verydiligent lad; and that he accordingly arranged, with some kindredspirits, to begin work at three in the morning. The restless Marryatwished to join the party, but his motives were suspected and theconspirators adopted the simple expedient of not waking him. Marryatrolled his bed across the door, and Babbage pushed it away. Marryat tieda string from his wrist to the door handle, and Babbage unfastened it. Athicker string was cut, a chain was unlinked by pliers, but at last thefuture captain forged a chain that was too stout for the futuremathematician. Babbage, however, secured his revenge; as soon as hiscomrade was safely asleep he slipped a piece of pack thread through thechain and, carrying the other end to his own bed, was enabled by a fewrapid jerks to waken Marryat whenever he chose. Apparently satisfiedwith his victory in the gentle art of tormenting, Babbage yieldedvoluntarily upon the original point of dispute. Marryat and othersjoined the reading party, transformed it to a scene of carnival, andwere discovered by the authorities.
Meanwhile Marryat was constantly running away--to sea; according to hisown account because he was obliged to wear his elder brother's oldclothes. On one occasion his father injudiciously sent him back in acarriage with some money in his pocket. The wise youth slipped out, andfinding his way home by some quiet approach, carried off his youngerbrothers to the theatre. He finally ran away from a private tutor, andMr Marryat recognised the wisdom of compliance. Being then fourteen,that is of age to hold a commission, Frederick was allowed to enter thenavy, and on the 23rd of September 1806, he started on his first voyageon board H.M.S. _Imperieuse_, Captain Lord Cochrane, for theMediterranean.
He could scarcely have entered upon his career under better auspices. Ina line-of-battle ship he would have had no chance of service at thisstage of the war, when the most daring of the French could not bedecoyed out of port; but the frigates had always more exciting work onhand than mere patrolling. There were cruisers to be captured,privateers to be cut off, convoys to be taken, and work to be done onthe coast among the forts. And Lord Cochrane, Earl of Dundonald, was notthe man to neglect his opportunities. His daring gallantry and cooljudgment are accredited to most of Marryat's captains, particularly in_Frank Mildmay_, where the cruise of the _Imperieuse_ along the Spanishcoast is most graphically and literally described. Cochrane's_Autobiography_ betrays the strong, stern individuality of the man,invaluable in action, somewhat disturbing in civil life. As a reformerin season and out of season, at the Admiralty or in the House ofCommons, his zeal became a bye-word, but Marryat knew him only on boardhis frigate, as an inspiring leader of men. He never passed anopportunity of serving his country and winning renown, but his daringwas not reckless.
"I must here remark," says Marryat in his private log, "that I neverknew any one so careful of the lives of his ship's company as LordCochrane, or any one who calculated so closely the risks attending anyexpedition. Many of the most brilliant achievements were performedwithout loss of a single life, so well did he calculate the chances; andone half the merit which he deserves for what he did accomplish hasnever been awarded him, merely because, in the official despatches,there has not been a long list of killed and wounded to please theappetite of the English public."
Marryat has left us a graphic account of his first day at sea:--
"The _Imperieuse_ sailed; the Admiral of the port was one who _would_ be obeyed, but _would not_ listen always to reason or common sense. The signal for sailing was enforced by gun after gun; the anchor was hove up, and, with all her stores on deck, her guns not even mounted, in a state of confusion unparalleled from her being obliged to hoist in faster than it was possible she could stow away, she was driven out of harbour to encounter a heavy gale. A few hours more would have enabled her to proceed to sea with security, but they were denied; the consequences were appalling, they might have been fatal. In the general confusion some iron too near the binnacles had attracted the needle of the compasses; the ship was steered out of her course. At midnight, in a heavy gale at the close of November, so dark that you could not distinguish any object, however close, the _Imperieuse_ dashed upon the rocks between Ushant and the Main. The cry of terror which ran through the lower decks; the grating of the keel as she was forced in; the violence of the shocks which convulsed the frame of the vessel; the hurrying up of the ship's company without their clothes;
and then the enormous wave which again bore her up, and carried her clean over the reef, will never be effaced from my memory."
This, after all, was not an inappropriate introduction to the stormythree years which followed it. The story is written in the novels,particularly _Frank Mildmay[1]_ where every item of his varied andexciting experience is reproduced with dramatic effect. It would beimpossible to rival Marryat's narrative of episodes, and we shall gainno sense of reality by adjusting the materials of fiction to an exactaccordance with fact. He says that these books, except _Frank Mildmay,_are "wholly fictitious in characters, in plot, and in events," but theyare none the less truthful pictures of his life at sea. Cochrane's_Autobiography_ contains a history of the _Imperieuse_; it is from_Peter Simple_ and his companions that we must learn what Marryatthought and suffered while on board.
Under Cochrane he cruised along the coast of France from Ushant to themouth of the Gironde, saw some active service in the Mediterranean, and,after a return to the ocean, was finally engaged in the Basque Roads. Apage of his private log contains a lively _resume_ of the wholeexperience:--
"The cruises of the _Imperieuse_ were periods of continual 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 to 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 forever 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 only 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 face 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."
After some comparatively colourless service in other frigates, duringwhich he gained the personal familiarity with West Indian life of whichhis novels show many traces, he completed his time as a midshipman, andin 1812, returned home to pass. As a lieutenant his cruises wereuneventful and, after being several times invalided, he was promotedCommander in 1815, just as the Great War was closing. He was now onlytwenty-three, and had certainly received an admirable training for thework with which he was soon to enchant the public. Though never presentat a great battle, and many good officers were in the same position, hehad seen much smart service and knew from others what lay beyond his ownexperience. He evidently took copious notes of all he saw and heard. Hehad sailed in the North Sea, in the Channel, in the Mediterranean, andalong the Eastern coast of America from Nova Scotia to Surinam. He hadbeen rapidly promoted.
It is tolerably obvious that, both as midshipman and lieutenant, heevinced the cool daring and manly independence that characterises hisheroes, with a dash perhaps of Jack Easy's philosophy. It was a roughlife and he was not naturally amenable to discipline, but probably hissuperiors made a favourite of the dashing handsome lad. The habit, whichhelps to redeem Frank Mildmay and even graces Peter Simple, of savingothers from drowning, was always his own. His daughter records, withpardonable pride, that he was presented while in the navy withtwenty-seven certificates, recommendations, and votes of thanks forhaving saved the lives of others at the risk of his own, besidesreceiving a gold medal from the Humane Society.
During the peace of 1815 he "occupied himself in acquiring a perfectknowledge of such branches of science as might prove useful should theLords of the Admiralty think fit to employ him in a voyage of discoveryor survey." A vaguely projected expedition to Africa was, however,relinquished on account of his marriage with "Catherine, second daughterof Sir Stephen Shairp, Knt., of Houston, Co. Linlithgow (for many yearsHer Britannic Majesty's Consul-General, and twice _charge d'affaires_ atthe court of Russia);" which took place in January 1819. In this sameyear he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, according totradition on account of his skill in drawing caricatures.
He was at sea again soon after his marriage as commander of the _Beaver_sloop, in which commission he was sent to mount guard over Napoleon atSt Helena until his death. He took a sketch of the dead emperor in fullprofile, which was engraved in England and France, and considered astriking likeness. He was meanwhile no doubt perfecting the code ofsignals for the use of merchant vessels of all nations, including thecipher for secret correspondence, which was immediately adopted, andsecured to its inventor the Cross of the Legion of Honour from LouisPhilippe. It was not actually published in book form till 1837, fromwhich date its sale produced an appreciable income.
After returning in the _Rosario_ with the despatches concerningNapoleon's death, he was sent to escort the body of Queen Caroline toCuxhaven. He was then told off for revenue duty in the Channel, and hadsome smart cruising for smugglers until the _Rosario_ was pronouncedunseaworthy and paid off on the 22nd of February 1822. As a result ofthis experience he wrote a long despatch to the Admiralty, in which hefreely criticised the working of the preventive service, and made somepractical suggestions for its improvement. In 1822 he also published_Suggestions for the abolition of the present system of impressment inthe Naval Service_, a pamphlet which is said to have made him unpopularwith Royalty. He frequently in his novels urges the same reform, whichhe very earnestly desired.
He was appointed to the _Larne_ in March 1823, and saw some hard serviceagainst the Burmese, for which he received the thanks of the general andthe Indian Government, the Companionship of the Bath, and the command ofthe _Ariadne_. Two years later, in November 1830, he resigned his ship,and quitted active service, according to Mrs Lean, because of hisappointment as equerry to His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex.
He was probably influenced, however, by a distaste for routine duties intime of peace, the claims of a growing family, and literary ambitions.He had already published _Frank Mildmay_, and received for it thehandsome sum of L400, and negotiations were very possibly on footconcerning _The King's Own_, of which the composition had beencompleted.
There is considerable difficulty in following the remainder of Marryat'slife, owing to the silence of our only authority, Mrs Lean. No reasonscan be assigned for the sudden flittings in which he constantlyindulged, or for his hasty journeys to America and to the Continent. Hewas clearly impulsive in all things, and, though occasionally shrewd,betrayed a mania for speculation. Moreover, he was naturally addicted tothe Bohemian pleasures of life, being somewhat promiscuous inhospitality, and absolutely prodigal in the art of making presents. Tosatisfy these various demands on his pocket, he was often driven tospells of desperate work, in spite of the really handsome sums hereceived from the publishers and editors with whom he was always atvariance.
His first regular establishment was Sussex House, Hampstead, which hesoon "swapped," after dinner and champagne, for a small estate of 1000acres at Langham, Norfolk; though he did not finally settle in thecountry till 1843. His original occupation of Langham, which realisedhim a steady annual deficit, was followed by a return to London, a visitto Brighton and, in 1835, a journey on the Continent to Brussels andLausanne.
He had, meanwhile, been contributing to _The Metropolitan Magazine,_which he edited from 1832 to 1835, finally selling his proprietaryrights to Saunders and Otley for L1050. His editorial work was arduous,and many of his own compositions were first published in _TheMetropolitan._ Here appeared _Newton Forster,_ 1832, _Peter Simple,_1833, _Jacob Faithful, Midshipman Easy,_ and _Japhet in search
of aFather_(!) 1834, besides a comedy in three acts, entitled _The Gipsy,_ atragedy called _The Cavalier of Seville,_ and the miscellaneous papersafterwards collected under the title, _Olla Podrida._
In 1833 he stood, as a reformer, for Tower Hamlets, but his methods ofcanvassing were imprudent. He dwelt upon his own hobbies, anddisregarded those of the electors. He apparently expected to carry theday by opposing the pressgang in a time of peace, and even permittedhimself to repudiate philanthropy towards the African negro. Thegallantry with which, on one occasion, he saved the lives of hisaudience when the floor of the room had fallen in, was not permitted tocover the rash energy of his reply to a persistent questioner:--"If everyou, or one of your sons, should come under my command at sea anddeserve punishment, if there be no other effectual mode of conferringit, _I shall flog you."_ It is hardly necessary to add that he lost theelection.
He afterwards failed in a plan for the establishment of brevet rank inthe army, but gave some valuable assistance in the preparation of theMerchant Shipping Bill of 1834.
It was about this time that Marryat is currently reported to havechallenged F.D. Maurice to a duel. The latter had published ananonymous novel, called _Eustace Conway,_ in which "a prominentcharacter, represented in no amiable colours, bore the name of CaptainMarryat." The truth of the story seems to be that the Captain went inhot wrath to Bentley, and demanded an apology or a statement that thecoincidence was unintentional. Maurice replied, through his publisher,that he had never heard of Captain Marryat. It may be questioned whetherthe apology was not more galling than the original offence.
In 1834 some legal difficulties arose in connection with his father'smemory, which Marryat accepted with admirable philosophy:--
"As for the Chancellor's judgment," he told his mother, "I cannot say that I thought anything about it, on the contrary, it appears to me that he might have been much more severe if he had thought proper. It is easy to impute motives, and difficult to disprove them. I thought, considering his enmity, that he let us off cheap; as there is no _punishing a chancellor,_ and he might say what he pleased with impunity. I did not therefore _roar_, I only _smiled_. The effect will be nugatory. Not one in a thousand will read it; those who do, know it refers to a person not in this world; and of those, those who knew my father will not believe it, those who did not will care little about it, and forget the name in a week. Had he given the decision in our favour, I should have been better pleased, _but it's no use crying; what's done can't be helped."_
This letter was written from Brighton, and the following year foundMarryat on the Continent, at home in a circle of gay spirits who mightalmost be called the outcasts of English society. They werepleasure-seekers, by no means necessarily depraved but, by narrowincomes or other causes, driven into a cheerful exile. The captain wasalways ready to give and take in the matter of entertainment, and he wasinvited everywhere though, on one occasion at least, it is recorded thathe proved an uncongenial guest. Having dined, as a recognised lion amonglions, he "didn't make a single joke during the whole evening." His hostremarked on his silence the next morning, and Marryat replied:--
"Oh, if that's what you wanted you should have asked me when you were alone. Why, did you imagine I was going to let out any of my jokes for those fellows to put in their next books? No, that is not _my_ plan. When I find myself in such company _as that_ I open my ears and hold my tongue, glean all I can, and give them nothing in return."
He did not always, however, play the professional author so offensively,and we hear of his taking part in private theatricals and dances,preparing a Christmas tree for the children, and cleverly packing hisfriends' portmanteaux.
Meanwhile, he was writing _The Pirate and Three Cutters,_ for which hereceived L750, as well as _Snarley-yow_ and the _Pacha of many Tales._He had been contributing to the _Metropolitan_ at 15 guineas a sheet,until he paid a flying visit to England in 1836 in order to transfer hisallegiance to the _New Monthly Magazine,_ from which he secured 20guineas. Mrs Lean states that her father received L1100 each for _PeterSimple, Jacob Faithful, Japhet,_ and _The Pacha of many Tales;_ L1200for _Midshipman Easy,_ L1300 for _Snarley-yow,_ and L1600 for the _Diaryin America._ Yet "although Captain Marryat and his publishers mutuallybenefited by their transactions with each other, one would haveimagined, from the letters exchanged between them, that they had beennatural enemies." She relates how one of the fraternity told Marryat hewas "somewhat eccentric--an odd creature," and added, "I am somewhatwarm-tempered myself, and therefore make allowance for yours, which iscertainly warm enough."
Marryat justified the charge by replying:--
"There was no occasion for you to make the admission that you are somewhat warm-tempered; your letter establishes that fact. Considering your age, you are a little volcano, and if the insurance were aware of your frequent visits at the Royal Exchange, they would demand double premium for the building. Indeed, I have my surmises _now_ as to the last conflagration.
* * * * *
Your remark as to the money I have received may sound well, mentioned as an isolated fact; but how does it sound when it is put in juxtaposition with the sums you have received? I, who have found everything, receiving a pittance, while you, who have found nothing but the shop to sell in, receiving such a lion's share. I assert again that it is slavery. I am Sinbad the sailor, and you are the old man of the mountain, clinging on my back, and you must not be surprised at my wishing to throw you off the first convenient opportunity.
The fact is, you have the vice of old age very strong upon you, and you are blinded by it; but put the question to your sons, and ask them whether they consider the present agreement fair. Let them arrange with me, and do you go and read your Bible. We all have our ideas of Paradise, and if other authors think like me, the most pleasurable portion of anticipated bliss is that there will be no publishers there. That idea often supports me after an interview with one of your fraternity."
Marryat only returned to England a few months before hurrying off toAmerica in April 1837. The reasons for this move it is impossible toconjecture, as we can scarcely accept the apparent significance of hiscomments on Switzerland in the _Diary on the Continent:--_
"Do the faults of these people arise from the peculiarity of their constitutions, or from the nature of their government? To ascertain this, one must compare them with those who live under similar institutions. _I must go to America--that is decided_."
He was received by the Americans with a curious mixture of suspicion andenthusiasm. English men and women of letters in late years had beenvisiting the Republic and criticising its institutions to the mothercountry--with a certain forgetfulness of hospitalities received that wasnot, to say the least of it, in good taste. Marryat was also an author,and it seemed only too probable that he had come to spy out the land. Onthe other hand, his books were immensely popular over the water and, butfor dread of possible consequences, Jonathan was delighted to see him.His arrival at Saratoga Springs produced an outburst in the local papersof the most pronounced journalese:--
"This distinguished writer is at present a sojourner in our city. Before we knew the gallant Captain was respiring our balmy air, we really did wonder what laughing gas had imbued our atmosphere--every one we met in the streets appeared to be in such a state of jollification; but when we heard that the author of _Peter Simple_ was actually puffing a cigar amongst us we no longer marvelled at the pleasant countenances of our citizens. He has often made them laugh when he was thousands of miles away. Surely now it is but natural that they ought to be tickled to death at the idea of having him present."
The Bostonians were proud to claim him as a compatriot through hismother, and a nautical drama from his pen--_The Ocean Wolf, or theChannel Outlaw_--was performed at New York with acclamation. He had somesquabbles with American publishers concerning copyright, and was cleverenough to secure two thousand two hundred and fifty dollars from Mess
rsCarey & Hart for his forthcoming _Diary in America_ and _The PhantomShip,_ which latter first appeared in the _New Monthly,_ 1837 and 1838.He evidently pleased the Americans on the whole, and was notunfavourably impressed by what he saw, but the six volumes which heproduced on his return are only respectable specimens of bookmaking, anddo not repay perusal. It was, indeed, his own opinion that he hadalready written enough. "If I were not rather in want of money," he saysin a letter to his mother, "I certainly would not write any more, for Iam rather tired of it. I should like to disengage myself from thefraternity of authors, and be known in future only in my profession as agood officer and seaman." He had hoped to see some service in Canada,but the opportunity never came.
In England, to which he returned in 1839, the want of money soon came tobe felt more seriously. His father's fortune had been invested in theWest Indies, and began to show diminishing returns. For this and otherreasons he led a very wandering existence, for another four or fiveyears, until 1843. A year at 8 Duke Street, St James, was followed by ashort stay with his mother at Wimbledon House, from which he tookchambers at 120 Piccadilly, and then again moved to Spanish Place,Manchester Square. Apparently at this time he made an unsuccessfulattempt to return to active service. He was meanwhile working hard at_Poor Jack, Masterman Ready, The Poacher, Percival Keene,_ etc., andliving hard in the merry circle of a literary Bohemia, with ClarksonStanfield, Rogers, Dickens, and Forster; to whom were sometimes addedLady Blessington, Ainsworth, Cruickshank, and Lytton. The rivalinterests served to sour his spirits and weaken his constitution.
The publication of _The Poacher_ in the _Era_ newspaper involved itsauthor in a very pretty controversy. A foolish contributor to _Fraser'sMagazine_ got into a rage with Harrison Ainsworth for _condescending_ towrite in the weekly papers, and expressed himself as follows:--
"If writing monthly fragments threatened to deteriorate Mr Ainsworth's productions, what must be the result of this _hebdomadal_ habit? Captain Marryat, we are sorry to say, has taken to the same line. Both these popular authors may rely upon our warning, that they will live to see their laurels fade unless they more carefully cultivate a spirit of _self-respect._ That which was venial in a miserable starveling of Grub Street is _perfectly disgusting_ in the extravagantly paid novelists of these days--the _caressed_, of generous booksellers. Mr Ainsworth and Captain Marryat ought to disdain such _pitiful peddling._ Let them eschew it without delay."
Marryat's reply was, spirited and manly. After ridiculing _Fraser's_attempt "to set up a standard of _precedency_ and _rank_ in literature,"and humorously proving that an author's works were not to be esteemed inproportion to the length of time elapsing between their production, heturned to the more serious and entirely honest defence that, likeDickens, he was supplying the lower classes with wholesome recreation:--
"I would rather write for the instruction, or even the amusement of the poor than for the amusement of the rich; and I would sooner raise a smile or create an interest in the honest mechanic or agricultural labourer who requires relaxation, than I would contribute to dispel the _ennui_ of those who loll on their couches and wonder in their idleness what they shall do next. Is the rich man only to be amused? are mirth and laughter to be made a luxury, confined to the upper classes, and denied to the honest and hard-working artisan?...
In a moral point of view, I hold that I am right. We are educating the lower classes; generations have sprung up who can read and write; and may I enquire what it is that they have to read, in the way of amusement?--for I speak not of the Bible, which is for private examination. They have scarcely anything but the weekly newspapers, and, as they cannot command amusement, they prefer those which create the most excitement; and this I believe to be the cause of the great circulation of the _Weekly Dispatch,_ which has but too well succeeded in demoralising the public, in creating disaffection and ill-will towards the government, and assisting the nefarious views of demagogues and chartists. It is certain that men would rather laugh than cry--would rather be amused than rendered gloomy and discontented--would sooner dwell upon the joys or sorrows of others in a tale of fiction than brood over their own supposed wrongs. If I put good and wholesome food (and, as I trust, sound moral) before the lower classes, they will eventually eschew that which is coarse and disgusting, which is only resorted to because no better is supplied. Our weekly newspapers are at present little better than records of immorality and crime, and the effect which arises from having no other matter to read and comment upon, is of serious injury to the morality of the country ... I consider, therefore, that in writing for the amusement and instruction of the poor man, I am doing that which has but been too much neglected--that I am serving my country, and you surely will agree with me that to do so in not _infra. dig. _in the proudest Englishman; and, as a Conservative, you should commend rather than stigmatise my endeavours in the manner which you have so hastily done."
It has been said that Marryat's wandering ceased in 1843, and it was inthat year that he settled down at Langham to look after his own estate.Langham is in the northern division of Norfolk, half way betweenWells-next-the-Sea and Holt. The Manor House, says Mrs Lean, "withouthaving any great architectural pretensions, had a certain unconventionalprettiness of its own. It was a cottage in the Elizabethan style, builtafter the model of one at Virginia Water belonging to his late majesty,George IV., with latticed windows opening on to flights of stone stepsornamented with vases of flowers, and leading down from the long narrowdining-room, where (surrounded by Clarkson Stanfield's illustrations of_Poor Jack_, with which the walls were clothed) Marryat composed hislater works, to the lawn behind. The house was thatched and gabled, andits pinkish white walls and round porch were covered with roses and ivy,which in some parts climbed as high as the roof itself."
In the unpublished fragment of his _Life of Lord Napier_ Marryat haddeclared that retired sailors naturally turned to agriculture, andfrequently made good farmers. A sailor on land, he rather quaintlyremarks, is "but a sort of Adam--a new creature, starting into existenceas it were in his prime;" and "the greatest pleasures of man consist inimitating the Deity in his _creative_ power." The anticipated _pleasure_in farming he did to a great extent realise, but the _profits_ werestill to seek. It can only be said that his losses were rather smallerthat they had been in his absence.
Thus:--
1842. Total receipts, L154 2 9 " Expenditure, 1637 0 6 1846. Total receipts, 898 12 6 " Expenditure, 2023 10 8
His former tenant had indeed shown but little respect for the property.Besides taking all he could out of the land without putting anythinginto it, he fitted up the drawing-room of the manor (which in itsbrightest days had been known in the village as the "Room of ThousandColumns," from an effect produced by mirrors set in the panels offolding doors, reflecting trellised pillars,) with rows of beds, whichhe let out to tramps at twopence a night!
Of these latter years on the farm we can gather some distinctly pleasantimpressions. Marryat was evidently a good master at all times. Hedelighted to arrange for festivities in the servants' hall, but he wasalso very tolerant to poachers, and considered it his first duty to findwork for his men when times were bad. His model pigsties and cottageswere unpopular, but he loved his animals and understood them. The chiefmerit of his lazy and somewhat asinine pony Dumpling consisted in histalent for standing still. Upon this patient beast the captain wouldoccasionally sally forth to shoot, assisting his naturalshort-sightedness by a curious "invention of his own;"--a plain piece ofcrystal surrounded by a strip of whalebone, hanging in front of hisright eye from the brim of his "shocking bad hat." He was a carelessdresser, but scrupulously clean; no smoker, but very fond of snuff. Hehad a fancy for pure white china which had to be procured from theContinent.
Cordial invitations from friends seldom drew him from his self-imposedlabours, and it appears that, in spite of his son's debts and otherdom
estic troubles, he led a fairly contented existence among his dogsand his children. To the latter, though occasionally passionate, he was"a most indulgent father and friend." He never locked anything away fromthem, or shut them out of any room in the house. Though severe onfalsehood and cowardice, he was indifferent to mischief, and one iscertainly driven to pity for the governess who was summoned to lookafter them. His methods in this connection were original. "He kept aquantity of small articles for presents in his secretary; and at thetermination of each week the children and governess, armed with a reportof their general behaviour, were ushered with much solemnity into thelibrary to render up an account. Those who had behaved well during thepreceding seven days received a prize, because they had been so good;and those who had behaved ill also received one, in hopes that theywould never be naughty again: the governess was also presented with agift, that her criticism on the justice of the transaction might bedisarmed." The father was not a strict disciplinarian, and it is relatedthat when a little one had made "a large rent in a new frock," for whichshe expected punishment from her governess, and ran to him for advice,he "took hold of the rent and tore off the whole lower part of theskirt," saying, "Tell her I did it."
The sons were seldom at home, but in spite of a certain constitutionalwildness and lack of prudence, they were evidently a gallant couple,delighting their father's heart. Frederick, the eldest, became adistinguished officer, after conquering a strong propensity to practicaljoking, and was much regretted in the service when wrecked at the age oftwenty-seven. He was last seen "upbraiding, in his jocular manner, somepeople who were frightened, when a sea swept over the ship and took himwith it." Frank was entered upon the roll of the navy at the tender ageof three, and presented to the Port Admiral of Plymouth in full costume.The officer patted him on the head, saying "Well, you're a fine littlefellow," to which the youngster replied, "and you're a fine old cock,too."
He became a cultivated and bold traveller, beloved by his friends, andnot unknown to fame. He only survived his father a few years, and diedat the age of twenty-eight.
Marryat now began his charming series of stories for children, a work towhich he turned for a practical reason that sounds strangely from hisimpulsive lips:--
"I have lately taken to a different style of writing, that is, foryoung people. My former productions, like all novels, have had theirday, and for the present, at least, will sell no more; but it is notso with the _juveniles_; they have an annual demand, and become _alittle income _to me; which I infinitely prefer to receiving any sumin a mass, which very soon disappears somehow or other." Save for alittle tendency to preachment, these volumes, particularly _MastermanReady_, and _The Children of the New Forest_, are admirably suited totheir purpose from the genuine childlikeness of their conception andtreatment.
Meanwhile Marryat's health was rapidly giving way, and almost his lastappearance before the public was in 1847, when he addressed a pathetic,but fairly dignified letter to the First Lord of the Admiralty, as aprotest against some affront, which he suspected, to his professionalcareer. The exact circumstances of the case cannot be now discovered,but it may be readily conjectured that the formalism of officialcourtesy did not match with the Captain's taste, and that the necessityfor self-control on his own part had irritated his resentment. The FirstLord expressed his regret at having wounded a distinguished officer, andbestowed on him a good service pension.
It may be said that the pension came too late, if indeed it would at anytime have been particularly serviceable. Marryat was now engaged in thatmelancholy chase for health which generally augurs the beginning of theend. He had ruptured two blood vessels, and was in great danger from theconstitutional weakness which had first attacked him as a younglieutenant in the West Indies. He moved to his mother's house in orderto consult the London doctors. A mild climate was recommended, and hewent down to Hastings, where the news of his son's death destroyed hisown chances of recovery. After about a month's trial of Brighton, hecame back to the London doctors who told him that "in six months hewould be numbered with his forefathers."
He went home to Langham to die. Through the summer of 1848 he lingeredon, "in the 'room of a thousand columns,' with the mimic sky, and birds,and flowers, above and around him, where he chose to lie upon amattress, placed on the ground, and there, almost in darkness, often inpain, and without occupation, he lay--cheerful and uncomplaining, and attimes even humorous." His daughters frequently read aloud to him, and healways asked for fresh flowers. At the last he became delirious, thoughcontinuing to dictate pages of talk and reflection. On the morning ofAugust 9th, 1848, he expired in perfect quiet.
"Although not handsome," says Mrs Lean, "Captain Marryat's personalappearance was very prepossessing. In figure he was upright andbroad-shouldered for his height, which measured 5ft. 10in. His hands,without being undersized, were remarkably perfect in form, and modelledby a sculptor at Rome on account of their symmetry. The character of hismind was borne out by his features, the most salient expression of whichwas the frankness of an open heart. The firm decisive mouth, and massivethoughtful forehead were redeemed from heaviness by the humorous lightthat twinkled in his deep-set grey eyes, which, bright as diamonds,positively flashed out their fun, or their reciprocation of the fun ofothers. As a young man, dark crisp curls covered his head; but later inlife, when, having exchanged the sword for the pen and theplougshare [sic], he affected a soberer and more patriarchal style ofdress and manner, he wore his grey hair long, and almost down to hisshoulder. His eyebrows were not alike, one being higher up and morearched than the other, which peculiarity gave his face a look ofenquiry, even in repose. In the upper lip was a deep cleft, and in thechin as deep a dimple."
Christopher North describes Captain Marryat as "a captain in the navy,and an honour to it--an admirable sailor, and an admirable writer--andwould that he were with us on the leads, my lads, for a pleasanterfellow, _to those who know him,_ never enlivened the social board." Itis evident, indeed, that an intimate knowledge of his character wasnecessary to its appreciation, for his daughter declares that "like mostwarm-hearted people he was quick to take offence, and no one could havedecided, after an absence of six months, with whom he was friends, andwith whom he was not." One of the said friends wrote truly:--
"His faults proceeded from an _over-active_ mind, which could never be quiet--morning, noon, or night. If he had no one to love, he quarrelled for want of something better to do; he planned for himself and for everybody, and changed his mind ten times a-day."
"Many people have asked," says Mrs Lean "whether Captain Marryat, whenat home, was not 'very funny.' No, decidedly not. In society, with newtopics to discuss, and other wits about him on which to sharpen his own--or, like flint and steel, to emit sparks by friction--he was as gayand humorous as the best of them; but at home he was always athoughtful, and, at times, a very grave man; for he was not exempt fromthose ills that all flesh is heir to, and had his sorrows and hisdifficulties and moments of depression, like the rest of us. At suchtimes it was dangerous to thwart and disturb him, for he was a man ofstrong passions and indomitable determination."
It is not difficult to conceive the character in outline--"wiseEnglish-hearted Captain Marryat," Kingsley calls him. He was incapableof any mean low vices, but his zest for pleasure was keen, and neverrestrained by motives of prudence or consideration for others. Hisstrong passions at times made him disagreeably selfish and overbearing,qualities forgiven by acquaintances for his social brilliancy, and byfriends for his frank affection. With some business talents andpractical shrewdness, he was quite incapable of wisely conducting hisaffairs, by reason of a mania for speculation and originality. There wasconsiderable waste of good material in his fiery composition.
His books reveal the higher standard of his true nature. Their meritsand faults are alike on the surface. Lockhart declared that "he stoodsecond in merit to no living novelist but Miss Edgeworth. His happydelineations and contrasts of character, and easy play of native fun,re
deem a thousand faults of verbosity, clumsiness, and coarseness. Hisstrong sense, and utter superiority to affectation of all sorts, commandrespect, and in his quiet effectiveness of circumstantial narrative hesometimes approaches old Defoe."
It is easy to criticise Marryat, for his grammar is reckless, he couldnot construct a plot, he wrote too much and too rapidly in order to earnmoney. But then he was an altogether admirable _raconteur_, and for thepurposes of narration his style was peculiarly appropriate--simple,rapid, lucid, and vigorous. He does not tax our powers of belief beyondendurance, or weary us with wonder. His crises are the more effectivefrom the absence of any studied introduction or thunderous comment; andhe carries his readers through stirring adventures of storm and battlewith a business-like precision that silences doubt. He breathes thespirit of the sea, himself a genuine sailor, almost as childlike andsimple as one of his own creations. His books are real voyages, in whicha day of bustle and danger is followed by peace and quiet, yarns on thequarter-deck, and some practical joking among the middies.
He delights in the exhibition of oddities, and the telling of tallstories outside the regular course of the narrative, which bubbles overwith somewhat boisterous fun. And his humour is genuine and spontaneous;it is farcical without descending to buffoonery. His comic types arebuilt up on character, and, if not subtle, are undeniably human andliving. They are drawn, moreover, with sympathy.
The whole tone of Marryat's work is singularly fresh, wholesome, andmanly. His heroes endure rough handling, but they fight their way, forthe most part, to the essential qualities of gentlemen. They are nosaints; but excellent comrades, honest lovers, and brave tars.
R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON.
FOOTNOTES:[1] In dwelling upon the autobiographical nature of the _incident_, in_Frank Mildmay,_ it is necessary to guard against the supposition thatMarryat's _character_ in any way resembled his hero's. See furtherPreface to _F M._
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