“My girls send their kind love, and so does Frank, and I am,

  “My dear Fanny,

  “Yours affectionately,

  “F. MARRYAT.”

  In October, the second and concluding volume of the ‘Children of the New Forest’ appeared, of which the Era said: “Captain Marryat will look back at these works as those that have yielded him most pleasure and profit; and we believe they will outlast all else that he has written.” And Mr. Foreter, in advising Captain Marryat to alter the form of the ‘Juvenile Library,’ adds: “You ought to make a fortune out of these little books. I know no book of its kind so popular as ‘Masterman Beady.’ Children don’t read it once, but a dozen times: and this is the true test.”*

  * Captain Marryat did make large sums by hie writings — by the most popular of which, alone, he realised a fortune of £20,000. The following figures show what he received on first publishing the manuscripts:

  £

  1839 Diary in America.. 1600

  1837 Snarley Yow.... 1300

  1836 Midshipman Easy.. 1200

  1832 Peter Simple.... 1100

  1833 Jacob Faithful... 1100

  1834 Japhet 1100

  1834 Pacha of Many Tales 1100

  CHAPTER IX.

  Unpublished Songs—’ The Victory’—’ The Impress’— ‘Honest Will’— ‘The Cat’— ‘Conspirators’ Song’— ‘Oh! we’re getting very vulgar’ — Commencement of a Tale for the ‘Juvenile Library.’

  THE following sea songs, and the commencement of a story for the ‘Juvenile Library,’ which were found as MS. in Captain Marryat’s desk after his decease, are inserted simply because, where so little remains, it is supposed that every fragment will possess its value.

  THE VICTORY.

  I.

  Stop the fiddle! cease your reeling!

  All now gather close to me.

  Silence, girls, while I’m revealing

  How we gained the victory.

  Off Trafalgar’s Cape, long seeking,

  Nelson’s flag was at the fore;

  In close order, two lines keeping,

  Down upon the foe we bore.

  II.

  In a crescent wide extended,

  They received us to engage;

  Soon the morning’s brightness ended —

  All obscured by battle’s rage.

  Up the bunting runs again, boys;

  Break the stops, the flags blow clear!

  When the signal was explained, boys,

  Then, indeed, there was a cheer!

  III.

  As lords like him cared not for booty —

  All but glory he rejects —

  He only said, To do his duty

  England every man expects!

  With folded arms, his lips compressing,

  Firm and silent, at his gun,

  Every man in heart confessing

  That signal had the victory won.

  IV.

  See, the Royal Sovereign proudly

  Fours her thunders on the foe;

  Broadside after broadside loudly

  Fills the decks with cries of woe!

  Heavy odds are five to one, boys;

  When was Collingwood afraid?

  Though the Santa Anna’s won, boys,

  Haste, Bellisles, they need our aid!

  V.

  Now the Victory, canvas straining,

  On surges to the contest dire;

  Her pennant curls, as if disdaining

  E’en the whole line’s centred fire.

  But now, her wrath no more controlling,

  Hark to that concentrated war!

  View that giant, trembling, rolling —

  ’Tis the punished Bucentaure.

  VI.

  With our ships at once engaging,

  All our masts gone by the board,

  The unconquered Bellisle raging,

  Mocks the Spanish ensign lower’d.

  But our gallant vessels striding,

  Now relieve us from the foe;

  All in action fast arriving,

  See the Frenchman’s flags below.

  VII.

  Should I all the logbook dwell on

  Of that great and glorious day,

  Good two watches would be well on,

  E’er I’d said but half my say.

  Suffice it is that with the thunder

  Amphitrity swooned with fright;

  Neptune’s ears were split asunder

  With these proofs of Britain’s might.

  Unfinished MS.

  THE IMPRESS.

  WHEN they hauled me on board, somewhat loth I must own,

  For a clip with a stretcher had made my head ring,

  Why, the impress, thought I, it is but a forced loan

  Which the sarvice demands, and the right of our King.

  So here’s to the King, God bless him,

  And here’s to Her Majesty, too;

  A sailor, although you impress him,

  His duty will cheerfully do.

  Once floored by a splinter, as a Frenchman we fought —

  A splinter which barked from the eye to the chin,

  When down to the cockpit my maimed hulk was brought,

  Say I, Shipmates, we bleed for our country and King.

  So here’s to the King, God bless him,

  And here’s to Her Majesty, too;

  A sailor, although you impress him,

  His duty will cheerfully do.

  When my Nan would persuade me to cut and to run,

  Says I, Nancy, desartion, d’ye see’s a base thing;

  As long as I’m wanted I’ll stand to my gun,

  While I’ve life I will fight for my country and King.

  So here’s to the King, God bless him,

  And here’s to Her Majesty, too;

  A sailor, although you impress him,

  His duty will cheerfully do.

  And now that in Greenwich I at last am safe moored,

  As I spin my long yarns, and my ditties I sing,

  I bless the kind nation who have laid up a hoard

  To provide for the sailor who fights for the King.

  So here’s to the King, God bless him,

  And here’s to Her Majesty, too;

  A sailor, although yon impress him,

  His duty will cheerfully do.

  HONEST WILL.

  I am called Honest Will, but for why I don’t know,

  For I only, d’ye see, do my Duty;

  And it’s every one’s business to soften the woe

  That presses down Virtue and Beauty.

  Why gold was first made I can’t tell, to be sure,

  To learning not being addicted,

  Unless it was given to cherish the poor,

  And comfort and aid the afflicted.

  In yon gallant fight, t’other day, of the Nile,

  My messmate, Tom Brace, chanced to die:

  And, tho’ after action I cheer’d with a smile,

  A tear for poor Tom dimm’d my eye.

  Thinks I, it’s bad now for his children and Kate;

  They’ll scarcely survive the sad shot;

  But I’ll save my rhino to soften hard fate,

  And save them from Poverty’s lot.

  Once honest Ben Backstay, a true-hearted lad,

  Became, for a land lubber, bail,

  Who soon got from Ben all the money he had,

  And then housed him up in a gaol.

  My pockets with prize money then were well lined,

  So Ben I restored to his friends;

  Their transports made him almost out of his mind,

  And me, for the act, full amends.

  If safely through life’s troubled course you would steer,

  And reach the right haven at last,

  A messmate’s misfortunes neglect not to cheer,

  And save him from Poverty’s blast.

  As for me, I well know Tars must fight and must fall,

  And leave their poor widows’ hearts sad.

  Lord love ‘em, I wish I could marry them all,

  And be to each orphan — a Dad!

  THE OAT.

  I.

  I wish they’d not such trouble take,

  But leave alone our sarvice;

  Our skippers follow in the wake

  Of Nelson, Howe, and Jarvis.

  II.

  What can they know, these Commons green,

  Of men-of-war’s conditions?

  And what the devil do they mean

  By bringing up petitions?

  III.

  I must allow a naked back

  Was ever my aversion;

  But chaps we have on board who lack

  What Boatswain calls coershun.

  IV.

  If sculkers are to go scot free,

  And good men double tides work,

  A ship like that won’t do for me,

  Or those who never toil shirk.

  V.

  When Blinking Bob my locket prigged,

  Which cased the hair of Nancy,

  D’ye think to see the grating rigged

  Was not unto my fancy?

  VI.

  Yes, every honest man on board

  Him punished saw with pleasure;

  The rascal had his back well scored,

  And I regained my treasure.

  VII.

  We know that sometimes it will hap

  A good man gets in trouble;

  A drop too much will make him nap,

  Or sometimes to see double.

  VIII.

  But when called up, you touch your hat,

  And plead, “the first offence, sir.”

  The skipper, he detests the cat;

  His anger was pretence, sir.

  IX.

  The lash, when given, is deserved,

  And certain ’tis, our navy,

  If discipline were not preserved,

  Would soon go to old Davy.

  X.

  I don’t know what they would be at —

  They’d screen all thieves and sculks, sir.

  A seaman true don’t fear the cat

  Will ever scratch his hulk, sir.

  Xi.

  ’Tis known that they who play at bowk

  Must sometimes meet with rubbers.

  Them Commons chape, why, bless your soul,

  What are they but land-lubbers?

  XII.

  Then let them no more interfere,

  For every sailor jolly

  Will at their nonsense only sneer,

  And tell them it is folly.

  CONSPIRATORS’ SONG.

  I.

  Fill, lads, fill,

  Fill, lads, fill!

  Here we have a cure for every ill.

  If Fortune’s unkind

  As a north-east wind,

  Still we can endure

  Looking for a cure in “Better luck still.”

  II.

  Drink, boys, drink,

  Drink, boys, drink!

  The bowl let us drain with right good will.

  If women deceive

  Why should we grieve?

  Forgetting our pain,

  Love we make again, with “Better luck still.”

  III.

  Sing, lads, sing,

  Sing, lads, sing!

  Our voices we’ll raise, be merry still.

  If dead to-morrow

  We leave all sorrow.

  Life’s a weary maze.

  When we close our days ’tis “Better luck still.”

  OH! WE’RE GETTING VERY VULGAR.

  I.

  The times are sadly altered since I was but a lad,

  And little did I think that Reform would prove so bad;

  But, since that Bill has passed the House, it certainly is so,

  That we’re getting very vulgar and most exceeding low.

  II.

  In former times the theatres were crowded to excess,

  To witness Cooke in Richmond, or Siddons in Queen Bess;

  Now dukes will go three times a week to listen to Jim Crow:

  Oh! we’re getting very vulgar and most exceeding low.

  III.

  Our authors once were gentlemen in all they said or wrote,

  And Byron, Moore, or Campbell, we all were proud to quote;

  But now, with Sykes to murder Nancy, in we must go.

  Oh! we’re getting very vulgar and most exceeding low.

  IV.

  But, worst of all, our Sovereign was wont to go in state

  To meet the Lords and Commons, assembled to debate;

  And now behind the scenes the Queen, to see wild beasts, must go.

  Oh! we’re getting very vulgar and most exceeding low.

  COMMENCEMENT OF A SΤΟRΥ FOR THE ‘JUVENILE LIBRARY.’

  BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT.

  MR. JAMES LAMBERT was the son of a merchant and succeeded his father in his business, which was one of long standing; and the house, as it was termed, was considered to be of the first respectability. He was what is called a Turkey merchant — freighting vessels out and home from Smyrna. At his father’s death he found himself in possession of a good property, and a thriving business. He lived in the City, and his counting-house was on the lower floor of the house in which he resided. Such used to be the general custom some years ago, and it was a very good one, as it saved both time and expense, and to a merchant time is money. Now, merchants prefer to live at the west end of the town, and have a counting-house in the city; which has only one advantage to offer against the manifold disadvantages of such an arrangement, which is, that the walk home gives them an appetite for their dinner. Mr. Lambert’s affairs continued prosperous, and he married a young lady he fell in with at a ball which he went to at Richmond. Mrs. Lambert, who had lived all her life in the country, was not over pleased at the noise and smoke of the city, but, like all good wives, she did not make her husband uncomfortable by complaints of what she knew could not be helped. She had married a merchant, and was bound to follow his fortunes. She did not therefore tease him into buying a house in the country, but made the best of it, and, moreover, made an excellent wife. They lived very happily for seventeen years, during which time they had a family of two sons and two daughters; and Mr. Lambert had become so wealthy a man that he talked of taking a house in the country, much to his wife’s delight, for she had longed for the fresh air although to a certain degree reconciled to a London life. The greatest pleasure was — for Mr. Lambert now kept his own carriage — to drive down to Tooting, where her two girls were at school, or to Edmonton to see her boys who were at school in that vicinity; and the carriage was, when she returned, always loaded with flowers in pots, and nosegays.

  “At the time of their marriage Mr. Lambert received a small dower with his wife — £3,000. Mrs. Lambert and her brother were orphans, and the brother had an estate in Norfolk left to him. This £3,000, was settled upon her and her children. Mrs. Lambert’s brother had entered the navy, and had always lived a rambling life, and now they received the intelligence of his death, in the East Indies; and, according to the will of her father, as her brother had died unmarried, the estate in Norfolk fell to Mrs. Lambert and was settled, as well as the £3,000, upon her and her children. It was not a large property, being only about two hundred and fifty acres, but still it was an addition to Mr. Lambert’s wealth; and, about three months after they were in possession of it Mr. Lambert received a letter from the attorney who was his agent, informing him that his tenant, who was very much in arrear, had been thrown from his horse and killed, on his return from market, and wishing to receive his directions, as to what steps should be taken relative to the sale of the stock on the farm, and re-letting of the property.

  “Now, it had for many years been the custom of Mr. Lambert to take his wife down to some watering place, every autumn; and, when he received this intelligence, he proposed to her that they should go down to Norfolk and see the property which belonged to them. Mrs. Lambert was delighted at the plan, and in consequence Mr. Lambert wrote to his agent, requesting that nothing might be done till his arrival, which would be in the course of three weeks — and begging that he would look out for lodgings for them, as near to the property as they could be obtained. The agent replied, that there was no house of entertainment within moderate distance of the property; but that, as the furniture, as well as the stock of the farm, was held in distress for the arrears of rent, they could take possession of the house formerly inhabited by the tenant; as it was commodious, and, with a few additions — which he could make, would be comfortable enough.

  “At the time proposed, Mr and Mrs. Lambert went down to Norfolk and were much pleased with the property, which was in one of the most picturesque parts of Norfolk, not very distant from the sea, and about six miles from the retired watering place of Cromer. It appeared that the tenant had been a very dissolute character, almost always in a state of intoxication, and had farmed so badly that the land was much deteriorated; in consequence, no other farmer had come forward to rent the farm; and the agent advised Mr. Lambert, as there was no immediate prospect of letting it, to appoint a person whom he recommended as a steward, and to carry on the farm with the stock and implements, which, upon being appraised, did not amount to so much as the arrears of rent which was due. As the deceased tenant was a single man, and did not appear to have any relations to come forward as claimants to any residue, and had made no will, Mr. Lambert had no scruple in seizing upon the property which he had left; and, acting upon his agent’s advice, he appointed a steward to carry on the farm, for his own benefit. The man appointed was placed under the immediate orders of the agent, who promised to see that justice was done.

  “As Mr. Lambert was in no want of money he requested his agent to employ the whole rent of the farm in putting the land in a good state; and not to think about remitting until that was done. After a fortnight’s residence at the house, which, as the agent said, they found very commodious and comfortable, Mr and Mrs. Lambert returned to London, the latter regretting much that she could not remain in a place where she felt that she could be so happy. As Mrs. Lambert could not help expressing her thoughts her husband smiled, for he had been in every way so prosperous during the last year that he had resolved to purchase a country house as soon as he could find one that would suit him, and he felt that his wife was nearer to her wishes than she could have imagined. We say that Mr. Lambert had been, during the last year, in every way prosperous, and we will explain: not only had it proved so in his mercantile affairs, but in his speculations — for the spirit of speculation was now abroad and the year 18 — will be memorable for the madness which possessed so many thousands in the pursuit of gain. Mr. Lambert, like most others, had speculated, and, up to the present, most favourably. He had every prospect in a few months of doubling his capital, at least so he thought when his wife made the observation which we have referred to.