"The cruises of the Impérieuse 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, during which he gained the personal familiarity with West Indian life of which his novels show many traces, he completed his time as a midshipman, and in 1812, returned home to pass. As a lieutenant his cruises were uneventful and, after being several times invalided, he was promoted Commander in 1815, just as the Great War was closing. He was now only twenty-three, and had certainly received an admirable training for the work with which he was soon to enchant the public. Though never present at a great battle, and many good officers were in the same position, he had seen much smart service and knew from others what lay beyond his own experience. He evidently took copious notes of all he saw and heard. He had sailed in the North Sea, in the Channel, in the Mediterranean, and along the Eastern coast of America from Nova Scotia to Surinam. He had been rapidly promoted.
It is tolerably obvious that, both as midshipman and lieutenant, he evinced the cool daring and manly independence that characterises his heroes, with a dash perhaps of Jack Easy's philosophy. It was a rough life and he was not naturally amenable to discipline, but probably his superiors made a favourite of the dashing handsome lad. The habit, which helps to redeem Frank Mildmay and even graces Peter Simple, of saving others from drowning, was always his own. His daughter records, with pardonable pride, that he was presented while in the navy with twenty-seven certificates, recommendations, and votes of thanks for having saved the lives of others at the risk of his own, besides receiving a gold medal from the Humane Society.
During the peace of 1815 he "occupied himself in acquiring a perfect knowledge of such branches of science as might prove useful should the Lords of the Admiralty think fit to employ him in a voyage of discovery or survey." A vaguely projected expedition to Africa was, however, relinquished on account of his marriage with "Catherine, second daughter of Sir Stephen Shairp, Knt., of Houston, Co. Linlithgow (for many years Her Britannic Majesty's Consul-General, and twice chargé d'affaires at the court of Russia);" which took place in January 1819. In this same year he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, according to tradition 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 at St Helena until his death. He took a sketch of the dead emperor in full profile, which was engraved in England and France, and considered a striking likeness. He was meanwhile no doubt perfecting the code of signals for the use of merchant vessels of all nations, including the cipher for secret correspondence, which was immediately adopted, and secured to its inventor the Cross of the Legion of Honour from Louis Philippe. It was not actually published in book form till 1837, from which date its sale produced an appreciable income.
After returning in the Rosario with the despatches concerning Napoleon's death, he was sent to escort the body of Queen Caroline to Cuxhaven. He was then told off for revenue duty in the Channel, and had some smart cruising for smugglers until the Rosario was pronounced unseaworthy and paid off on the 22nd of February 1822. As a result of this experience he wrote a long despatch to the Admiralty, in which he freely criticised the working of the preventive service, and made some practical suggestions for its improvement. In 1822 he also published Suggestions for the abolition of the present system of impressment in the Naval Service, a pamphlet which is said to have made him unpopular with Royalty. He frequently in his novels urges the same reform, which he very earnestly desired.
He was appointed to the Larne in March 1823, and saw some hard service against the Burmese, for which he received the thanks of the general and the Indian Government, the Companionship of the Bath, and the command of the Ariadne. Two years later, in November 1830, he resigned his ship, and quitted active service, according to Mrs Lean, because of his appointment as equerry to His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex.
He was probably influenced, however, by a distaste for routine duties in time of peace, the claims of a growing family, and literary ambitions. He had already published Frank Mildmay, and received for it the handsome sum of £400, and negotiations were very possibly on foot concerning The King's Own, of which the composition had been completed.
There is considerable difficulty in following the remainder of Marryat's life, owing to the silence of our only authority, Mrs Lean. No reasons can be assigned for the sudden flittings in which he constantly indulged, or for his hasty journeys to America and to the Continent. He was clearly impulsive in all things, and, though occasionally shrewd, betrayed a mania for speculation. Moreover, he was naturally addicted to the Bohemian pleasures of life, being somewhat promiscuous in hospitality, and absolutely prodigal in the art of making presents. To satisfy these various demands on his pocket, he was often driven to spells of desperate work, in spite of the really handsome sums he received from the publishers and editors with whom he was always at variance.
His first regular establishment was Sussex House, Hampstead, which he soon "swapped," after dinner and champagne, for a small estate of 1000 acres at Langham, Norfolk; though he did not finally settle in the country till 1843. His original occupation of Langham, which realised him a steady annual deficit, was followed by a return to London, a visit to Brighton and, in 1835, a journey on the Continent to Brussels and Lausanne.