Somerset ... In the reign of Edward I., Sir John de 
Maryet 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 
honourable burial has been accorded. The house of Meryat finally lost 
its property on the fall of Lady Jane Grey, to whom it had descended 
through the female 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 the 
Virgin Queen at Trinity College, Cambridge ... was sent to aid the 
Huguenots in their wars in France ... escaped the massacre of St 
Bartholemew and, in 1610, returned to England." Here he married 
"Mary, the daughter and heiress of Daniel Luke, of the Covent Garden 
(a rank Puritan family in Hudibras), and again settled in his paternal 
county of Suffolk." Less partial biographers neglect to trace the 
Marryats beyond this Huguenot officer, who is described by them as a 
refugee. 
Whatever may be the truth of these matters, it is certain that during the 
17th and 18th centuries the Maryats were a respectable, middle-class 
Puritan family--ministers, doctors, and business men. In the days of the 
merry monarch a John Marryat became distinguished as a "painful 
preacher," and was twice expelled from his livings for non-conformity. 
Captain Marryat's grandfather was a good doctor, and his father, Joseph 
Marryat of Wimbledon House, was an M.P., chairman for the 
committee of Lloyd's, and colonial agent for the island of Grenada--a 
substantial man, who refused a baronetcy, and was honoured by an 
elegy from Campbell. He married Charlotte Geyer, or Von Geyer, a 
Hessian of good descent. 
Frederick, born July 10, 1792, was one of fifteen sons and daughters, 
"of whom ten attained maturity, and several have entered the lists of 
literature." His eldest brother, Joseph, was a famous collector of china, 
and author of Pottery and Porcelain; the youngest, Horace, wrote One 
Year in Sweden, Jutland and the Danish Isles; and his sister, Mrs Bury 
Palliser, was the author of Nature and Art (not to be confounded with 
Mrs Inchbald's novel of that name), The History of Lace, and Historic 
Devices, Badges and War Cries. His father and grandfather published 
political and medical works, respectively, while the 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; and his 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 
of his discontent with school-masters and parents. Mr Hannay is 
probably right in regarding his hard pictures of home and school life as 
reflections of his own experience. 
It is said that on one occasion he was found to be engaged in the pursuit 
of knowledge while standing on his head; and that he accounted for the 
circumstance with a humorous philosophy almost worthy of Jack 
Easy--"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 to learn it 
on my head." Another anecdote, of a contest with his school-fellow 
Babbage, is interesting and characteristic. It appears that the inventor of 
the calculating machine, unlike Marryat, was a very diligent lad; and 
that he accordingly arranged, with some kindred spirits, to begin work 
at three in the morning. The restless Marryat wished to join the party, 
but his motives were suspected and the conspirators adopted the simple 
expedient of not waking him. Marryat rolled his bed across the door, 
and Babbage pushed it away. Marryat tied a string from his wrist to the 
door handle, and Babbage unfastened it. A thicker string was cut, a 
chain was unlinked by pliers, but at last the future captain forged a 
chain that was too stout for the future mathematician. Babbage, 
however, secured his revenge; as soon as his comrade was safely asleep 
he slipped a piece of pack thread through the chain and, carrying the 
other end to his own bed, was enabled by a few rapid jerks to waken 
Marryat whenever he chose. Apparently satisfied with his victory in the 
gentle art of tormenting, Babbage yielded voluntarily upon the original 
point of dispute. Marryat and others joined the reading party, 
transformed it to a scene of carnival, and were discovered by the 
authorities. 
Meanwhile Marryat was constantly running away--to sea; according to 
his own account because he was obliged to wear his elder brother's old 
clothes. On one occasion his    
    
		
	
	
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