“My dearest Mother,—I have been so occupied and I have been moving about so fast that I really have had time to write to hardly anybody, and I put off a letter to you till I had a more quiet moment; but as it appears 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 cousins on his mother’s side] that I went up to Boston for a few days to see some of them; indeed all except Mrs. C—— and Mr. Tucker himself, who was mending his bridge, and could not leave his work; they were all very kind, but I like poor Mrs. G—— better than any of them.
“I have since been a tour of the lakes, and have travelled some thousand miles. I went up the Hudson, crossed to Saratoga, Trenton Falls, Falls of the Mohawk, Oswego River to Lake Ontario; then to Niagara, Buffalo, and to Lake Erie—to Detroit; from Detroit to Lake St. Clair, and Lake Huron to Mackinan, from Mackinan took a bark canoe, and crossed the Huron, went up the River St. Clair to the Sault Sᵗᵉ Marie, and from thence to Lake Superior. The latter part of 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 Government opposite to Detroit on the Canada side—about 600 acres. I have written to B—— B——, offering to settle him on it, as it is not out of the world, but in very good society. I think it will be worth his while, as in a few years he will be independent. He will however require £300 or so to fit himself out, but that he only need borrow as he will soon be able to pay off. I trust that if he accepts my offer his brother will assist him, and if so, he will do well.
“I am going to Toronto to pay the first instalment, and from there to Montreal, and then I return by Lake Champlain so as to call upon Mrs. C—— at Burlington; and from thence proceed to Bellows Falls to see my Uncle Tucker, who is rather angry 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 September for the same purpose, as I accepted the invitation; but I wish they had not paid me the compliment. From Philadelphia I go to Washington to canvass for the international copyright, and then I shall probably go south for the winter.
“The more I see of America the more I feel the necessity of either saying nothing about it, or seeing the whole of it properly. Indeed I am in that situation that I cannot well do otherwise now. It is expected by the Americans, and will also be by the English; and if I do not, they will think I shrink from the task because it is too difficult, which it really is. All I have yet 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, and only the major part of the Americans.(?) They are very much afraid of me here, although they are very civil; but I do not wonder at it—they have been treated with great ingratitude. I at least shall do them justice, without praising them more than they deserve. No traveller has yet examined them with the eye of a philosopher, but with all the prejudices of little minds.
“Except a letter from you, I have not received a line from England, which is rather strange. From Kate I have had many letters. I have so many correspondents now—not only at home, but I have a large American correspondence which is too valuable to break off—that I really find I cannot write letter for letter. I have so much to read, so much to write, and so much to think about, that I must be excused. My time is not idly employed, I assure you, although I do not grow thin upon it; but, on the contrary, I think I am fuller than when I left England. I have been so far away these last six weeks that I 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 to take breath. My journal is already swelled out nearly a volume, and the notes I have taken to work up afterwards will almost double it, and yet I have seen but a small portion of the country. I have picked up two or three good specimens for Joe’s mineral collection on Lake Superior, and some day or another he may get hold of them. Write and tell me all the news. I have not had a line from Mr. Howard or anybody else, which is very strange. The steamboat jogs so that I can hardly write, and I suspect you will hardly be able to read; but if so, it will take you time to decipher, and therefore will last the longer.
“God bless you, dear mother. A hundred kisses to Ellen, and kind regards to all who care for me.
“Yours ever truly and affectionately,
“F. Marryat.”
From this letter it may be gathered that in October, 1837, Marryat was, in good humour with America, and was seriously thinking of a study of it which should be a possession for ever. America was, on the whole, well pleased with him. He had been civilly received, with a certain reserve as might have been expected, seeing that he was a writing man, who had come 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 with Boston, and some of them had given him a helping hand in that great copyright fight in which the sympathy of the more right-minded has never been denied to the English author, but has also never been of any effect Unfortunately this very trip to Canada led to a storm which put Marryat for a time into the position of best-abused man on the continent.