Oliver Martin Wilson Warner was a well-known British naval historian and writer.
Warner was educated at Denstone College and Caius College, Cambridge. In 1926 he succeeded Frank Swinnerton as staff reader at the publishing house of Chatto and Windus. In addition to his work as staff reader he also worked on the company's advertising material. As a young man he made contributions to magazines such as The Spectator and Time and Tide, some of which were later reproduced in his 1947 book Captains and Kings. In 1939 he published an account of his visit to an "unworldly" relative in Canada, entitled Uncle Lawrence. During the Second World War he joined the Admiralty secretariat, initially serving in the Commission and Warrant (C.W.) branch[citation needed] before serving on the war artists advisory committee. He later served as secretary to the naval honours and awards committee.
After the war he became deputy director of publications of the British Council, where he remained until his retirement in 1963. he worked thereafter at Chatto and Windus for another year before concentrating on writing. By the time of his death he had more than twenty books in print. He married twice, first to Dorothea Blanchard who died in 1937, by whom he had one daughter. He was married secondly to Elizabeth Strahan, with whom he had one son and one daughter.
It is astonishing to me that I could not find any biography of Frederick Marryat except for this short one, only 210 pages, considering the fact that Marryat was enormously popular through the entire nineteenth century, and his name was once mentioned with Dickens and Bulwer-Lytton, along with other leading lights of English-speaking reading public.
But he was a popular writer. He was not regarded well by reviewers, one calling his work "gross trash" (which caused what would now be an Internet brawl, ending with a challenge to a duel.) He also, according to Warner, got into a physical brawl with another writer he had taken against, when both happened into Trafalgar Square on Guy Fawkes day in 1834.
Warner's biography might be regarded as breezy and informal, much like the man. There is little attempt at academic rigor here. However, Warner is clearly well-read in the world of maritime fiction, naming writers and books now long forgotten (some of which I was able to locate on the Internet).
Another observation: that Patrick O'Brian has to have read this book, and been influenced by it when he came to design Jack Aubrey, and maybe even Stephen Maturin. Marryat, according to Warner, was fat, handsome, and a fighting captain, in that he saw more action than most. He was genial the rest of the time, running through two fortunes as he hospitably entertained London's leading lights for as long as his money lasted.
He loved mathematics and navigation, and was responsible for designing the badly-needed signal flag system that was used for the remainder of the century between merchant ships. He had a large family, and many of his daughters went on to become writers.
Warner himself seems to be a peculiar one, blithely pronouncing opinions on his subject and on the world in general. Here is a typical quote:
Flogging ceased in the armed services nearly a century ago, and it is impossible to suppose that Marryat approved of it without reserve. Nevertheless, he had become accustomed to the full rigors of discipline as part of the sea life of his time, and himself exercised it on occasion, though he claimed credit for an Admiralty regulation which forbade punishment to take place until twenty-four hours after the event. Tempers must be allowed to cool.
There is no doubt that Marryat knew that the public, or a substantial section of it, would be interested in cruel details. He would not or could not appeal to popular sentimental fancy. In his first novel he called Horace and Virgil 'licentious yet alluring,' a revealing as well as an amusing comment. Sexual license was beyond his scope, but sadism always has its audience, and it was, as it were, the next best thing.
Nary a footnote in sight corroborating any of that!
(And Marryat could, and did, perpetrate the most egregious Victorian sentimentality, especially in his early novels.)
Still, a fun read, even if it admires its subject from a distance, and fades out before the end of Marryat's life, ending the book with opinions of the various novels.