Life of Frederick Marryat

on the Continent" propound a serious question: "Do the faults of this people (to wit, the Swiss) arise from the peculiarity of their cons

re plausible explanation could be found. It was excellently given by the elder Mr. Weller in the course of some remarks made for the benefit of Mr. Pickwick. To write a book about America was a favourite enterprise with literary persons in those years. Miss Martineau and Mrs. Trollope had just done it, and there was no reason why Marryat should not do it

tting up information, a quick eye, and a ready pen. With these qualities a man can easily make "copy" out of a visit to a new country. Indeed, Marryat was no novice at the work, for which his "Diary on the Continent" had prepared him. When his six volumes on America are judged as what they were, they are on the whole creditable. He made the Americans very angry, but that it was never difficult to do. He had provocation to write more bitterly than he did. But whatever may be the merits of, or the excuses for, the thing, it is hardly worth

ir guard against travellers who came to spy out the land, and make a book about it. They were not averse to comment, but they were anxious that it should not only be favourable, but of exactly that kind of favourableness of which they approved. Therefore they were intent to know whether Marryat meant to write about them, and, if so, what he meant to say. He extricated himself from the difficulty dexterously enough, and, on the whole, succeeded in keeping on friendly terms with his hosts. As a matter of course, American copyright institutions, and their effect on the national character of the publisher, had their share[101] of his attentions. In this respect, also, his experiences were pleasing enough in America. He was working in the intervals of observation. For American consumption he wrote

ll his letters to her were, gives a sufficient

ber,

rs that moment was never to come, I now write to you on board of a steamer on Lake Erie. You have, of course, heard from the Tuckers [these were his[102] cousins on his mother's side] that I went up to Boston for a

f the journey, five days in a bark canoe, was very fatiguing, and I was devoured by the mosquitoes; but it has been very interesting, and I have been much gratified. I am now on my return and am bound for Canada, passing by Buffalo and Niagara to Toronto. Since I have been here I have been looking out for a good piece of land, for it more than doubles its value in five or six years, and I have been fortunate in purchasing some very fine land from the Governme

1

ry with me for not going there before, which I could not. From Bellows Falls I shall return to New York-I do not think by the way of Boston, for they want to give me a public dinner there, and I want to avoid it. At Philadelphia I must be in

t read about America, written by English travellers, is absurd, especially Miss M--'s work: that old woman was blind as well as deaf. I only mean to publish in the form of a diary (but that is the best way); but I will not publish till I have seen all, and can be sure I have not been led into error like others. It is a wonderful country, and not understood by the English now,

have heard little English news, except the death of the King and the accession of Princess Victoria. I met Captain V--'s brother the other day who told me that the Etna was going home to England in consequence of Captain V--'s health. If so, I may hear something about Frederick, which I have not for a long while. I hope my dear Ellen [a sister] is quite well and happy. My kindest love to her. I will write to her as soon as I can; but it appears to me that I have more to do every day, and I really shall be glad to arrive at Bellows Falls and stay there for a week, if it is only to take breath. My j

undred kisses to Ellen, and kind

truly and af

Marr

me with the hardly disguised intention of writing, and after many who had written by no means acceptably; but still, in spite of this natural wariness, with kindness. He was a good talker and showed it. He had kinsmen in the States who helped him on. Altogether things had gone smoothly with him. The Americans had even been glad to acknowledge his connection

ought to have been a more complete matter of course than that he should propose their health. But Americans were then in a particularly thin-skinned state, even for them. They chose to be very angry with him for doing what any American officer would have done under similar circumstances, at least as loudly. What may be called the spirit of Hannibal Chollop awoke within them, and a chorus of denunciation was begun at once, in the most loud-mouthed and abusive style of American journalism.[107] Paragraphs headed "More Insolence," and so forth, appeared in abundance. Marryat's books and his effigy were publicly burnt. When he returned from Canada to the States, deputations waited on him, much in the frame of mind of the enlightened citizens who were so indignant when Martin Chuzzlewit offended a free people by coming back from Eden. As a matter of course, any stick was good enough to serve the turn of American journalism. He was accused, among other things, of having "insulted and contradicted, and refused to drink wine" with Henry Clay. Th

ually, or restrained from doing so by the knowledge that an Englishman was present. His hosts being simply American gentlemen, sitting in their right senses, agreed with him. A somewhat dramatic finish was given to this stage of the incident by Captain J. Pierce, who had been captain of the American privateer Ida when she was taken by the Newcastle, of which Marryat was then second lieutenant. Captain Pierce got on his legs to thank Marryat for the courtesy and good nature he had shown to himself and other prisoners. "The Wizard of the Sea," as the American newspapers loved to call him when they were not in a flaming rage, might

n a philosophic spirit as he had once thought. To be sure he had laid himself open to annoyance

ent all the more severe. Marryat remembering that he was an English naval officer still on the active list, gave up philosophic inquiry, hurried back to Canada, and volunteered for service under Sir John Colborne. This officer, a veteran of th

l, Dec.

ce I have heard either from England or the Continent; the latter I can in some way a

1

e just now returned from an expedition of five days against St. Eustache and Grand Brulé, which has ended in the total discomfiture of the rebels, and, I may add, the putting down of the insurrection in both provinces. I little thought when I wrote last that I should have had the bullets whizzing abo

, at others roasting amidst the flames of hundreds of houses. I came out of Grand Brulé after it was all over. I had the greatest difficulty in getting through the fire. I had a sleigh with two grey horses driven tandem (as it wa

receive a letter from England. I feel very much about having no intelligence. It will be too late to g

fill a sheet when correspondence is all on one sid

r affecti

Marr

to have decided to come out and settle on the desirabl

t swept all thought of books out of his mind. He waited for a summons to join Sir F. Head if his services were further needed in Canada; but while there was a prospect that he might again have "a man-of-war on[112] the ocean," he was in no hurry to run the risk of being shut up in Canada, where the best he could hope for would be a lake command. In a letter from New York to his mother he expresses very explicitly his wishes to serve again, and his hopes of further employment on blue water, and even ends up with one of those growls at the business of book-writing not uncommon among writing men when they happen to be languid, or to have heard bad news.

his own quarter-deck. The wish was certainly no vague one, floating idly in his mind. He made plans in Canada, drew maps,[113] and sent home information to the Admiralty in the manifest hope that his exertions would serve him at headquarters. If war had broken out with the United States it is certain that Marryat, recommended as he was not only by his past services, but by his knowledge of the American coast,