#peter simple

[marryat92]

A country dance was now called for, which was more acceptable to all parties, as none of Mr. Apollo Johnson's pupils were very perfect in their cotillon, and none of the officers, except O'Brien, knew any thing about them. O'Brien's superior education on this point, added to his lieutenant's epaulet and handsome person, made him much courted; but he took up with Miss Eurydice after I had left her, and remained with her the whole evening; thereby exciting the jealousy of Mr. Apollo Johnson, who, it appears, was amorous in that direction.

— Frederick Marryat, Peter Simple. 1837 illustration of the Barbados Dignity Ball by Robert W. Buss.

[acrossthewavesoftime]

Peter Simpel von Frederick Marryat

Merry Christmas, dear @clove-pinks alias @marryat92! Here is a little Christmas surprise for you which I hope has still been missing in your collection: an 1981 German edition of Peter Simple printed in the GDR. I found it a few months ago, but thought it would make a great Christmas 'present', so to speak.

I found Peter Simpel (the English simple and German simpel meaning the exactly same thing) by mere chance on a trip with a friend; although not originally on our route, we decided to make a little detour to a small town we both knew well to have lunch there, possibly visit another museum and do some window-shopping.

We were sauntering through town, talking, when my friend informed me that from her last time visiting in pre-plague days, she recalled a house with an accessible court, where the tenants (?) had set up a little book exchange on a few shelves. I don't know how common these things are anywhere else, but the idea is that people can take unwanted books somewhere, and somebody else who wants them can take them free of charge. Ideally, you leave a book of your own for every book you take to keep a consistent number available, but this isn't mandatory.

We went to check if it was still there and it was: while my friend was leafing through a volume of poetry with a gorgeous art nouveau cover, I skimmed the shelves and heard myself exclaim (a little louder than anticipated) "It's Frederick Marryat!", only to be met with my friend's puzzled gaze and a "who?".

...So now, thanks to your blog, without which I would never have known about Marryat or his novels, my friend now has an idea who Frederick Marryat is- spreading the word one person at a time.

I have, alas, not gotten around to reading Peter Simple yet (which I would prefer to do in the original English anyway), but here are some impressions of the illustrations, which are significantly better than those in the German Mr. Midshipman Easy:

...Is this chap using Marryat's flags?

[marryat92]

It has been from time immemorial the heathenish custom to sacrifice the greatest fool of the family to the prosperity and naval superiority of the country, and, at the age of fourteen, I was selected as the victim. If the custom be judicious, I had no reason to complain. There was not one dissentient voice, when it was proposed before all the varieties of my aunts and cousins, invited to partake of our new-year’s festival. I was selected by general acclamation. Flattered by such an unanimous acknowledgment of my qualification, I felt a slight degree of military ardour, and a sort of vision of future grandeur passed before me, in the distant vista of which I perceived a coach with four horses, and a service of plate.

— Frederick Marryat, Peter Simple

The British Naval Hero, 1800 print by John Young after Thomas Stothard.

[marryat92]

It was then about an hour before sunset, and in the West Indies the sun does not set as it does in the northern latitudes. There is no twilight: he descends in glory, surrounded with clouds of gold and rubies in their gorgeous tints; and once below the horizon, all is dark.

— Frederick Marryat, Peter Simple

Aquatint from Scenery of the Windward & Leeward Islands by John Herbert Caddy, 1837.

[marryat92]

The Portuguese and the English have always been the best of friends, because we can’t get no port wine anywhere else, and they can’t get nobody else to buy it of them; so the Portuguese gave up their arsenal at Lisbon, for the use of the English, and there we kept all our stores, under the charge of that old dare-devil, Sir Isaac Coffin.

— Frederick Marryat, Peter Simple

Sir Isaac Coffin by Samuel Stillman Osgood, 1830.

[marryat92]

The captain of the main-top was there with two other sailors. The midshipman introduced me very politely: “Mr. Jenkins — Mr. Simple, midshipman, — Mr. Simple, Mr. Jenkins, captain of the main-top. Mr. Jenkins, Mr. Simple has come up with an order for a cocked-hat.” The captain of the top replied that he was very sorry that he had not one in store, but the last had been served out to the captain’s monkey. This was very provoking.

— Frederick Marryat, Peter Simple

Sailing Ships and Small Boats in Rough Sea off the Coast, Samuel Owen, 1768–1857, British.

[marryat92]

The sea breeze soon became more precious to us than any thing else; and if we could have bathed without the fear of a shark, we should have equally appreciated that most refreshing of all luxuries under the torrid zone. It was therefore with pleasure that we received the information that we were to sail the next day to cruise off the French island of Martinique.

— Frederick Marryat, Peter Simple

View of Fort Royal in Martinique, c. 1760 print by François Denis.

[marryat92]

The sea broke over as we lay in the trough, deluging us with water from the forecastle, aft, to the binnacles; and very often, as the ship descended with a plunge, it was with such force that I really thought she would divide in half with the violence of the shock. Double breechings were rove on the guns, and they were further secured with tackles; and strong cleats nailed behind the trunnions; for we heeled over so much when we lurched, that the guns were wholly supported by the breechings and tackles, and had one of them broken loose, it must have burst right through the lee side of the ship, and she must have foundered.

— Frederick Marryat, Peter Simple

A frigate heeling in an offshore gale, Nicholas Pocock (1740-1821).