The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2 / Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2 / Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824| Author: | Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824 |
| Title: | The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2 |
| Date: | 2003-11-06 |
| Contributor(s): | Prothero, Rowland E., 1851-1937 [Editor] |
| Size: | 1027911 |
| Identifier: | etext9921 |
| Language: | en |
| Publisher: | Project Gutenberg |
| Rights: | GNU General Public License |
| Tag(s): | byron footnote lord lady letter george gordon baron letters journals volume project gutenberg prothero rowland editor |
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THE WORKS
OF
LORD BYRON.
A NEW, REVISED AND ENLARGED EDITION,
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.
Letters and Journals. Vol. II.
EDITED BY
ROWLAND E. PROTHERO, M.A.,
FORMERLY FELLOW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE, OXFORD.
PREFACE
The second volume of Mr. Murray's edition of Byron's 'Letters and
Journals' carries the autobiographical record of the poet's life from
August, 1811, to April, 1814. Between these dates were published 'Childe
Harold' (Cantos I., II.), 'The Waltz', 'The Giaour', 'The Bride of
Abydos', the 'Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte'. At the beginning of this
period Byron had suddenly become the idol of society; towards its close
his personal popularity almost as rapidly declined before a storm of
political vituperation.
Three great collections of Byron's letters, as was noted in the Preface
[1] to the previous volume, are in existence. The first is contained in
Moore's 'Life' (1830); the second was published in America, in
FitzGreene Halleck's edition of Byron's 'Works' (1847); of the third,
edited by Mr. W.E. Henley, only the first volume has yet appeared. A
comparison between the letters contained in these three collections and
in that of Mr. Murray, down to December, 1813, shows the following
results: Moore prints 152 letters; Halleck, 192; Mr. Henley, 231. Mr.
Murray's edition adds 236 letters to Moore, 196 to Halleck, and to Mr.
Henley 157. It should also be noticed that the material added to Moore's
'Life' in the second and third collections consists almost entirely of
letters which were already in print, and had been, for the most part,
seen and rejected by the biographer. The material added in Mr. Murray's
edition, on the contrary, consists mainly of letters which have never
before been published, and were inaccessible to Moore when he wrote his
'Life' of Byron.
These necessary comparisons suggest some further remarks. It would have
been easy, not only to indicate what letters or portions of letters are
new, but also to state the sources whence they are derived. But, in the
circumstances, such a course, at all events for the present, is so
impolitic as to be impossible. On the other hand, anxiety has been
expressed as to the authority for the text which is adopted in these
volumes. To satisfy this anxiety, so far as circumstances allow, the
following details are given.
The material contained in these two volumes consists partly of letters
now for the first time printed; partly of letters already published by
Moore, Dallas, and Leigh Hunt, or in such books as Galt's 'Life of Lord
Byron', and the 'Memoirs of Francis Hodgson'. Speaking generally, it may
be said that the text of the new matter, with the few exceptions noted
below, has been prepared from the original letters, and that it has
proved impossible to authenticate the text of most of the old material
by any such process.
The point may be treated in greater detail. Out of the 388 letters
contained in these two volumes, 220 have been printed from the original
letters. In these 220 are included practically the whole of the new
material. Among the letters thus collated with the originals are those
to Mrs. Byron (with four exceptions), all those to the Hon. Augusta
Byron, to the Hanson family, to James Wedderburn Webster, and to John
Murray, twelve of those to Francis Hodgson, those to the younger
Rushton, William Gifford, John Cam Hobhouse, Lady Caroline Lamb, Mrs.
Parker, Bernard Barton, and others. The two letters to Charles Gordon
(30, 33), the three to Captain Leacroft (62, 63, 64), and the one to
Ensign Long (vol. ii. p. 19, 'note'), are printed from copies only.
The old material stands in a different position. Efforts have been made
to discover the original letters, and sometimes with success. But it
still remains true that, speaking generally, the printed text of the
letters published by Moore, Dallas, Leigh Hunt, and others, has not been
collated with the originals. The fact is important. Moore, who, it is
believed, destroyed not only his own letters from Byron, but also many
of those entrusted to him for the preparation of the 'Life', allowed
himself unusual liberties as an editor. The examples of this licence
given in Mr. Clayden's 'Rogers and his Contemporaries' throw suspicion
on his text, even where no apparent motive exists for his suppressions.
But, as Byron's letters became more bitter in tone, and his criticisms
of his contemporaries more outspoken, Moore felt himself more justified
in omitting passages which referred to persons who were still living in
1830. From 1816 onwards, it will be found that he has transferred
passages from one letter to another, or printed two letters as one, and
'vice versa', or made such large omissions as to shorten letters, in
some instances, by a third or even a half. No collation with the
originals has ever been attempted, and the garbled text which Moore
printed is the only text at present available for an edition of the most
important of Byron's letters. But the originals of the majority of the
letters published in the 'Life', from 1816 to 1824, are in the
possession or control of Mr. Murray, and in his edition they will be for
the first time printed as they were written. If any passages are
omitted, the omissions will be indicated.
Besides the new letters contained in this volume, passages have been
restored from Byron's manuscript notes ('Detached Thoughts', 1821). To
these have been added Sir Walter Scott's comments, collated with the
originals, and, in several instances, now for the first time published.
Appendix VII. contains a collection of the attacks made upon him in the
Tory press for February and March, 1814, which led him, for the moment,
to resolve on abandoning his literary work.
In conclusion, I wish to repeat my acknowledgment of the invaluable aid
of the 'National Dictionary of Biography', both in the facts which it
supplies and the sources of information which it suggests.
R.E. PROTHERO.
September, 1898.
[Footnote 1: Also available from Project Gutenberg in text and html form.]
* * * * *
LIST OF LETTERS.
1811.
169. Aug. 23. To John Murray
170. Aug. 24. To James Wedderburn Webster
171. Aug. 25. To R.C. Dallas
172. Aug. 27. " "
173. Aug. 30. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
174. Aug. 30. " " "
175. Aug. 31. To James Wedderburn Webster
176. Sept. 2. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
177. Sept. 3. To Francis Hodgson
178. Sept. 4. To R.C. Dallas
179. Sept. 5. To John Murray
180. Sept. 7. To R.C. Dallas
181. Sept. 9. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
182. Sept. 9. To Francis Hodgson
183. Sept. 10. To R.C. Dallas
184. Sept. 13. To Francis Hodgson
185. Sept. 14. To John Murray
186. Sept. 15. To R.C. Dallas
187. Sept. 16. To John Murray
188. Sept. 16. To R.C. Dallas
189. Sept. 17. " "
190. Sept. 17. " "
191. Sept. 21. " "
192. Sept. 23. " "
193. Sept. 25. To Francis Hodgson
194. Sept. 26. To R.C. Dallas
195. Oct. 10. To James Wedderburn Webster
196. Oct. 10. To R.C. Dallas
197. Oct. 11. " "
198. Oct. 13. To Francis Hodgson
199. Oct. 14. To R.C. Dallas
200. Oct. 16. " "
201. Oct. 25. " "
202. Oct. 27. To Thomas Moore
203. Oct. 29. To R.C. Dallas
204. Oct. 29. To Thomas Moore
205. Oct. 30. " "
206. Oct. 31. To R.C. Dallas
207. Nov. 1. To Thomas Moore
208. Nov. 17. To Francis Hodgson
209. Dec. 4. " "
210. Dec. 6. To William Harness
211. Dec. 7. To James Wedderburn Webster
212. Dec. 8. To William Harness
213. Dec. 8. To Francis Hodgson
214. Dec. 11. To Thomas Moore
215. Dec. 12. To Francis Hodgson
216. Undated. R.C. Dallas
217. Dec. 15. To William Harness
1812.
218. Jan. 21. To Robert Rushton
219. Jan. 25. " "
220. Jan. 29. To Thomas Moore
221. Feb. 1. To Francis Hodgson
222. Feb. 4. To Samuel Rogers
223. Feb. 12. To Master John Cowell
224. Feb. 16. To Francis Hodgson
225. Feb. 21. " "
226. Feb. 25. To Lord Holland
227. March 5. To Francis Hodgson
228. March 5. To Lord Holland
229. Undated. To Thomas Moore
230. Undated. To William Bankes
231. March 25. To Thomas Moore
232. Undated. To Lady Caroline Lamb
233. April 20. To William Bankes
234. Undated. To Thomas Moore
235. May 1. To Lady Caroline Lamb
236. May 8. To Thomas Moore
237. May 20. " "
238. June 1. To Bernard Barton
239. June 25. To Lord Holland
240. June 26. To Professor Clarke
241. July 6. To Walter Scott
242. Undated. To Lady Caroline Lamb
243. Sept. 5. To John Murray
244. Sept. 10. To Lord Holland
245. Sept. 14. To John Murray
246. Sept. 22. To Lord Holland
247. Sept. 23. " "
248. Sept. 24. " "
249. Sept. 25. " "
250. Sept. 26. " "
251. Sept. 27. " "
252. Sept. 27. " "
253. Sept. 27. To John Murray
254. Sept. 28. To Lord Holland
255. Sept. 28. " "
256. Sept. 28. To William Bankes
257. Sept. 29. To Lord Holland
258. Sept. 30. " "
259. Sept. 30. " "
260. Oct. 2. " "
261. Oct. 12. To John Murray
262. Oct. 14. To Lord Holland
263. Oct. 18. To John Hanson
264. Oct. 18. To John Murray
265. Oct. 18. To Robert Rushton
266. Oct. 19. To John Murray
267. Oct. 22. To John Hanson
268. Oct. 23. To John Murray
269. Oct. 31. To John Hanson
270. Nov. 8. " "
271. Nov. 16. " "
272. Nov. 22. To John Murray
273. Dec. 26. To William Bankes
1813.
274. Jan. 8. To John Murray
275. Feb. 3. To Francis Hodgson
276. Feb. 3. To John Hanson
277. Feb. 20. To John Murray
278. Feb. 24. To Robert Rushton
279. Feb. 27. To John Hanson
280. March 1. " "
281. March 5. To ____ Corbet
282. March 6. To John Hanson
283. March 24. To Charles Hanson
284. March 25. To Samuel Rogers
285. March 26. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
286. March 29. To John Murray
287. April 15. To John Hanson
288. April 17. " "
289. April 21. To John Murray
290. May 13. " "
291. May 19. To Thomas Moore
292. May 22. To John Murray
293. May 23. " "
294. June 2. " "
295. Undated. To Thomas Moore
296. June 3. To John Hanson
297. June 6. To Francis Hodgson
298. June 8. " "
299. June 9. To John Murray
300. June 12. " "
301. June 13. " "
302. June 18. " "
303. June 18. To W. Gifford
304. June 22. To John Murray
305. June 22. To Thomas Moore
306. June 26. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
307. Undated. " " "
308. June 27. " " "
309. July 1. To John Murray
310. July 8. To Thomas Moore
311. July 13. " "
312. July 18. To John Hanson
313. July 22. To John Murray
314. July 25. To Thomas Moore
315. July 27. " "
316. July 28. " "
317. July 31 To John Murray
318. Aug. 2. To John Wilson Croker
319. Undated. To John Murray
320. Aug. 10. " "
321. Aug. 12. To James Wedderburn Webster
322. Aug. 22. To Thomas Moore
323. Aug. 26. To John Murray
324. Aug. 28. To Thomas Moore
325. Sept. 1. " "
326. Sept. 2. To James Wedderburn Webster
327. Sept. 5. To Thomas Moore
328. Sept. 8. " "
329. Sept. 9. " "
330. Sept. 15. To James Wedderburn Webster
331. Sept. 15. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
332. Sept. 15. To John Murray
333. Sept. 25. To James Wedderburn Webster
334. Sept. 27. To Sir James Mackintosh
335. Sept. 27. To Thomas Moore
336. Sept. 29. To John Murray
337. Sept. 30. To James Wedderburn Webster
338. Oct. 1. To Francis Hodgson
339. Oct. 2. To Thomas Moore
340. Oct. 3. To John Murray
341. Oct. 10. To John Hanson
342. Oct. 10. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
343. Oct. 12. To John Murray
344. Nov. 8. To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
345. Nov. 12. To John Murray
346. Nov. 12. To William Gifford
347. Nov. 12. To John Murray
348. Nov. 13. " "
349. Undated. " "
350. Nov. 13. " "
351. Nov. 14. " "
352. Nov. 15. " "
353. Nov. 17. " "
354. Nov. 20. " "
355. Nov. 22. " "
356. Nov. 23. " "
357. Nov. 24. " "
358. Nov. 27. " "
359. Nov. 28. " "
360. Nov. 29. To John Murray
361. Nov. 29. " "
362. Nov. 29 " "
363. Nov. 30. " "
364. Dec. 1. To Thomas Moore
365. Dec. 1. To Francis Hodgson
366. Dec. 2. To John Murray
367. Dec. 2. To Leigh Hunt
368. Dec. 3. To John Murray
369. Dec. 3. " "
370. Undated. " "
371. Dec. 4. " "
372. Dec. 6. " "
373. Dec. 8. To Thomas Moore
374. Dec. 11. To John Galt
375. Dec. 14. To John Murray
376. Dec. 14. To Thomas Ashe
377. Dec. 15. To Professor Clarke
378. Dec. 22. To Leigh Hunt
379. Dec. 27. To John Murray
* * * * *
CONTENTS
V. CHILDE HAROLD, CANTOS I., II.
VI. THE IDOL OF SOCIETY--THE DRURY LANE ADDRESS--SECOND SPEECH IN
PARLIAMENT
VII. THE 'GIAOUR' AND 'BRIDE OF ABYDOS'
VIII. JOURNAL: NOVEMBER, 14, 1813--APRIL 19, 1814
APPENDIX I. ARTICLES FROM 'THE MONTHLY REVIEW'
" II. PARLIAMENTARY SPEECHES
" III. LADY CAROLINE LAMB AND BYRON
" IV. LETTERS OF BERNARD BARTON
" V. CORRESPONDENCE WITH WALTER SCOTT
" VI. "THE GIANT AND THE DWARF"
" VII. ATTACKS UPON BYRON IN THE NEWSPAPERS FOR FEBRUARY AND
MARCH, 1814
* * * * *
CHAPTER V.
AUGUST, 1811-MARCH, 1812.
'CHILDE HAROLD', CANTOS I., II.
169.--To John Murray. [1]
Newstead Abbey, Notts., August 23, 1811.
Sir,--A domestic calamity in the death of a near relation [2] has
hitherto prevented my addressing you on the subject of this letter. My
friend, Mr. Dallas, [3] has placed in your hands a manuscript poem
written by me in Greece, which he tells me you do not object to
publishing. But he also informed me in London that you wished to send
the MS. to Mr. Gifford. [4] Now, though no one would feel more gratified
by the chance of obtaining his observations on a work than myself, there
is in such a proceeding a kind of petition for praise, that neither my
pride--or whatever you please to call it--will admit.
Mr. G. is not only the first satirist of the day, but editor of one of
the principal reviews. As such, he is the last man whose censure
(however eager to avoid it) I would deprecate by clandestine means. You
will therefore retain the manuscript in your own care, or, if it must
needs be shown, send it to another. Though not very patient of censure,
I would fain obtain fairly any little praise my rhymes might deserve, at
all events not by extortion, and the humble solicitations of a
bandied-about MS. I am sure a little consideration will convince you it
would be wrong.
If you determine on publication, I have some smaller poems (never
published), a few notes, and a short dissertation on the literature of
the modern Greeks (written at Athens), which will come in at the end of
the volume.--And, if the present poem should succeed, it is my
intention, at some subsequent period, to publish some selections from my
first work,--my Satire,--another nearly the same length, and a few other
things, with the MS. now in your hands, in two volumes.--But of these
hereafter. You will apprize me of your determination.
I am, Sir, your very obedient, humble servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: For John Murray, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 334, note 1
[Footnote 1 to Letter 167].]
[Footnote 2: Mrs. Byron died August I, 1811.]
[Footnote 3: For R. C. Dallas, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 168, note 1.
[Footnote 1 to Letter 87]]
[Footnote 4: For Gifford, the editor of the 'Quarterly Review', see
'Letters', vol. i. p. 198, note 2. [Footnote 4 of Letter 102]]
* * * * *
170.--To James Wedderburn Webster. [1]
Newstead Abbey, August 24th, 1811.
MY DEAR W.,--Conceiving your wrath to be somewhat evaporated, and your
Dignity recovered from the _Hysterics_ into which my innocent note from
London had thrown it, I should feel happy to be informed how you have
determined on the disposal of this accursed Coach, [2] which has driven
us out of our Good humour and Good manners to a complete Standstill,
from which I begin to apprehend that I am to lose altogether your
valuable correspondence. Your angry letter arrived at a moment, to which
I shall not allude further, as my happiness is best consulted in
forgetting it. [3]
You have perhaps heard also of the death of poor Matthews, whom you
recollect to have met at Newstead. He was one whom his friends will find
it difficult to replace, nor will Cambridge ever see his equal.
I trust you are on the point of adding to your relatives instead of
losing them, and of _friends_ a man of fortune will always have a
plentiful stock--at his Table.
I dare say now you are gay, and connubial, and popular, so that in the
next parliament we shall be having you a County Member. But beware your
Tutor, for I am sure he Germanized that sanguinary letter; you must not
write such another to your Constituents; for myself (as the mildest of
men) I shall say no more about it.
Seriously, _mio Caro W._, if you can spare a moment from Matrimony, I
shall be glad to hear that you have recovered from the pucker into which
this _Vis_ (one would think it had been a _Sulky_) has thrown you; you
know I wish you well, and if I have not inflicted my society upon you
according to your own Invitation, it is only because I am not a social
animal, and should feel sadly at a loss amongst Countesses and Maids of
Honour, particularly being just come from a far Country, where Ladies
are neither carved for, or fought for, or danced after, or mixed at all
(publicly) with the Men-folks, so that you must make allowances for my
natural _diffidence_ and two years travel.
But (God and yourself willing) I shall certes pay my promised visit, as
I shall be in town, if Parliament meets, in October.
In the mean time let me hear from you (without a privy Council), and
believe me in sober sadness,
Yours very sincerely,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: James Wedderburn Webster (1789-1840), grandson of Sir A.
Wedderburn, Bart., whose third son, David, assumed the additional name
of Webster, was the author of 'Waterloo, and other Poems' (1816), and 'A
Genealogical Account of the Wedderburn Family' (privately printed,
1819). He was with Byron, possibly at Cambridge, certainly at Athens in
1810. He married, in 1810, Lady Frances Caroline Annesley, daughter of
Arthur, first Earl of Mountnorris and eighth Viscount Valencia. He was
knighted in 1822. Byron, in 1813, lent him L1000. Lady Frances died in
1837, and her husband in 1840.
Moore ('Memoirs, Journals, etc.', vol. iii. p. 112) mentions dining with
Webster at Paris in 1820.
"He told me," writes Moore, "that, one day, travelling from Newstead
to town with Lord Byron in his vis-a-vis, the latter kept his pistols
beside him, and continued silent for hours, with the most ferocious
expression possible on his countenance.
'For God's sake, my dear B.,' said W----at last, 'what are you
thinking of? Are you about to commit murder? or what other dreadful
thing are you meditating?'
To which Byron answered that he always had a sort of presentiment that
his own life would be attacked some time or other; and that this was
the reason of his always going armed, as it was also the subject of
his thoughts at that moment."
Moore also adds ('ibid'., p. 292),
"W. W. owes Lord Byron, he says, L1000, and does not seem to have the
slightest intention of paying him."
Lady Frances was the lady to whom Byron seriously devoted himself in
1813-4. Subsequently she was practically separated from her husband, and
Byron, in 1823, endeavoured to reconcile them. Moore ('Memoirs,
Journals, etc'., vol. ii. p. 249) writes,
"To the Devizes ball in the evening; Lady Frances W. there; introduced
to her, and had much conversation, chiefly about our friend Lord B.
Several of those beautiful things, published (if I remember right)
with the 'Bride', were addressed to her. She must have been very
pretty when she had more of the freshness of youth, though she is
still but five or six and twenty; but she looks faded already" (1819).
In the Court of Common Pleas, February 16, 1816, the libel action of
'Webster v. Baldwin' was heard. The plaintiff obtained L2000 in
damages for a libel charging Lady Frances and the Duke of Wellington
with adultery.]
[Footnote 2: On his return to London in July, 1811, Byron ordered a
'vis-a-vis' to be built by Goodall. This he exchanged for a
carriage belonging to Webster, who, within a few weeks, resold the
'vis-a-vis' to Byron. The two following letters from Byron to
Webster explain the transaction:--
"Reddish's Hotel, 29th July, 1811.
"MY DEAR WEBSTER,--As this eternal 'vis-a-vis' seems to sit heavy
on your soul, I beg leave to apprize you that I have arranged with
Goodall: you are to give me the promised Wheels, and the lining, with
'the Box at Brighton,' and I am to pay the stipulated sum.
I am obliged to you for your favourable opinion, and trust that the
happiness you talk so much of will be stationary, and not take those
freaks to which the felicity of common mortals is subject. I do very
sincerely wish you well, and am so convinced of the justice of your
matrimonial arguments, that I shall follow your example as soon as I
can get a sufficient price for my coronet. In the mean time I should
be happy to drill for my new situation under your auspices; but
business, inexorable business, keeps me here. Your letters are
forwarded. If I can serve you in any way, command me. I will endeavour
to fulfil your requests as awkwardly as another. I shall pay you a
visit, perhaps, in the autumn. Believe me, dear W.,
Yours unintelligibly,
B."
"Reddish's Hotel, July 31st, 1811.
MY DEAR W. W.,--I always understood that the 'lining' was to
accompany the 'carriage'; if not, the 'carriage' may
accompany the 'lining', for I will have neither the one nor the
other. In short, to prevent squabbling, this is my determination, so
decide;--if you leave it to my 'feelings' (as you say) they are
very strongly in favour of the said lining. Two hundred guineas for a
carriage with ancient lining!!! Rags and rubbish! You must write
another pamphlet, my dear W., before; but pray do not waste your time
and eloquence in expostulation, because it will do neither of us any
good, but decide--content or 'not' content. The best thing you
can do for the Tutor you speak of will be to send him in your Vis
(with the lining) to 'the U--Niversity of Goettingen.' How can you
suppose (now that my own Bear is dead) that I have any situation for a
German genius of this kind, till I get another, or some children? I am
infinitely obliged by your invitations, but I can't pay so high for a
second-hand chaise to make my friends a visit. The coronet will not
'grace' the 'pretty Vis,' till your tattered lining ceases to
'dis'grace it. Pray favour me with an answer, as we must finish
the affair one way or another immediately,--before next week.
Believe me, yours truly,
BYRON."
"Byron," says Webster, in a note, "was more than strict about
trifles."]
[Footnote 3: The death of Mrs. Byron, August 1, 1811.]
* * * * *
171.--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, August 25, 1811.
Being fortunately enabled to frank, I do not spare scribbling, having
sent you packets within the last ten days. I am passing solitary, and do
not expect my agent to accompany me to Rochdale [1] before the second
week in September; a delay which perplexes me, as I wish the business
over, and should at present welcome employment. I sent you exordiums,
annotations, etc., for the forthcoming quarto, if quarto it is to be:
and I also have written to Mr. Murray my objection to sending the MS. to
Juvenal, [2] but allowing him to show it to any others of the calling.
Hobhouse [3] is amongst the types already: so, between his prose and my
verse, the world will be decently drawn upon for its paper-money and
patience. Besides all this, my 'Imitation of Horace' [4] is gasping for
the press at Cawthorn's, but I am hesitating as to the how and the when,
the single or the double, the present or the future. You must excuse all
this, for I have nothing to say in this lone mansion but of myself, and
yet I would willingly talk or think of aught else.
What are you about to do? Do you think of perching in Cumberland, as you
opined when I was in the metropolis? If you mean to retire, why not
occupy Miss Milbanke's "Cottage of Friendship," late the seat of Cobbler
Joe, [5] for whose death you and others are answerable? His "Orphan
Daughter" (pathetic Pratt!) will, certes, turn out a shoemaking Sappho.
Have you no remorse? I think that elegant address to Miss Dallas should
be inscribed on the cenotaph which Miss Milbanke means to stitch to his
memory.
The newspapers seem much disappointed at his Majesty's not dying, or
doing something better. [6] I presume it is almost over. If parliament
meets in October, I shall be in town to attend. I am also invited to
Cambridge for the beginning of that month, but am first to jaunt to
Rochdale. Now Matthews [7] is gone, and Hobhouse in Ireland, I have
hardly one left there to bid me welcome, except my inviter. At
three-and-twenty I am left alone, and what more can we be at seventy? It
is true I am young enough to begin again, but with whom can I retrace
the laughing part of life? It is odd how few of my friends have died a
quiet death,--I mean, in their beds. But a quiet life is of more
consequence. Yet one loves squabbling and jostling better than yawning.
This 'last word' admonishes me to relieve you from
Yours very truly, etc.
[Footnote 1: For Byron's Rochdale property, which was supposed to
contain a quantity of coal, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 78, 'note' 2.
[Footnote 2 of Letter 34]]
[Footnote 2: Gifford.]
[Footnote 3: For John Cam Hobhouse, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 163,
'note' 1. [Footnote 1 of Letter 86]]
[Footnote 4: The poem remained unpublished till after Byron's death.
(See 'note', p. 23, and 'Poems', ed. 1898, vol. i. pp. 385-450.) ]
[Footnote 5:
"In Seaham churchyard, without any memorial," says Mr. Surtees, "rest
the remains of Joseph Blacket, an unfortunate child of genius, whose
last days were soothed by the generous attention of the family of
Milbanke."
'Hist. of Durham', vol. i. p. 272. (See also 'Letters', vol. i. p. 314,
'note' 2 [Footnote 2 of Letter 154]. For Miss Milbanke, afterwards Lady
Byron, see p. 118, 'note' 4.) [Footnote 1 of Letter 7]]
[Footnote 6: On July 28, 1811, Lord Grenville wrote to Lord Auckland,
"It is, I believe, certainly true that the King has taken for the last
three days scarcely any food at all, and that, unless a change takes
place very shortly in that respect, he cannot survive many days"
('Auckland Correspondence', vol. iv. p. 366). It was, however, the mind,
and not the physical strength that failed.
"The King, I should suppose," wrote Lord Buckinghamshire, on August
13, "is not likely to die soon, but I fear his mental recovery is
hardly to be expected."
('ibid'., vol. iv. p. 367). George III. never, except for brief
intervals, recovered his reason.]
[Footnote 7: For C. S. Matthews, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 150, 'note'
3. [Footnote 2 of Letter 84]]
* * * * *
172.--To R. C. Dallas. [1]
Newstead Abbey, Aug. 27, 1811.
I was so sincere in my note on the late Charles Matthews, and do feel
myself so totally unable to do justice to his talents, that the passage
must stand for the very reason you bring against it. To him all the men
I ever knew were pigmies. He was an intellectual giant. It is true I
loved Wingfield [2] better; he was the earliest and the dearest, and one
of the few one could never repent of having loved: but in ability--ah!
you did not know Matthews!
'Childe Harold' may wait and welcome--books are never the worse for
delay in the publication. So you have got our heir, George Anson Byron,
[3] and his sister, with you.
You may say what you please, but you are one of the 'murderers' of
Blackett, and yet you won't allow Harry White's genius. [4]
Setting aside his bigotry, he surely ranks next Chatterton. It is
astonishing how little he was known; and at Cambridge no one thought or
heard of such a man till his death rendered all notice useless. For my
own part, I should have been most proud of such an acquaintance: his
very prejudices were respectable. There is a sucking epic poet at
Granta, a Mr. Townsend, [5] 'protege' of the late Cumberland. Did you
ever hear of him and his 'Armageddon'? I think his plan (the man I don't
know) borders on the sublime: though, perhaps, the anticipation of the
"Last Day" (according to you Nazarenes) is a little too daring: at
least, it looks like telling the Lord what he is to do, and might remind
an ill-natured person of the line,
"And fools rush in where angels fear to tread."
But I don't mean to cavil, only other folks will, and he may bring all
the lambs of Jacob Behmen about his ears. However, I hope he will bring
it to a conclusion, though Milton is in his way.
Write to me--I dote on gossip--and make a bow to Ju--, and shake George
by the hand for me; but, take care, for he has a sad sea paw.
P.S.--I would ask George here, but I don't know how to amuse him--all my
horses were sold when I left England, and I have not had time to replace
them. Nevertheless, if he will come down and shoot in September, he will
be very welcome: but he must bring a gun, for I gave away all mine to
Ali Pacha, and other Turks. Dogs, a keeper, and plenty of game, with a
very large manor, I have--a lake, a boat, houseroom, and _neat wines_.
[Footnote 1: Dallas, writing to Byron, August 18, 1811, had said,
"I have been reading the 'Remains' of Kirke White, and find that you
have to answer for misleading me. He does not, in my opinion, merit
the high praise you have bestowed upon him."
Writing again, August 26, he objected to the 'note' on Matthews in
'Childe Harold':
"In your note, as it stands, it strikes me that the eulogy on Matthews
is a 'little' at the expense of Wingfield and others whom you
'have' commemorated. I should think it quite enough to say that
his Powers and Attainments were above all praise, without expressly
admitting them to be above that of a Muse who soars high in the praise
of others."]
[Footnote 2: For Wingfield, see 'Letters', vol. i, p. 180, 'note' 1.
[Footnote 2 of Letter 92]]
[Footnote: For George Anson Byron, afterwards Lord Byron, and his sister
Julia, see 'Letters', vol. i, p. 188, 'note' 1.[Footnote 1 of Letter
96]]
[Footnote 4: For H. K. White, see 'Letters', vol. i, p. 336, 'note' 2.
[Footnote 3 of Letter 167]]
[Footnote 5: The Rev. George Townsend (1788-1857) of Trinity College,
Cambridge, published 'Poems' in 1810, and eight books of his
'Armageddon' in 1815. The remaining four books were never published.
Townsend became a Canon of Durham in 1825, and held the stall till his
death in 1857. Richard Cumberland, dramatist, novelist, and essayist
(1732-1811), the "Sir Fretful Plagiary" of 'The Critic', announced the
forthcoming poem in the 'London Review'; but, as Townsend says, in the
Preface to 'Armageddon', praised him "too abundantly and prematurely."
"My talents," he adds, "were neither equal to my own ambition, nor his
zeal to serve me." (See 'Hints from Horace', lines 191-212, and Byron's
'note' to line 191, 'Poems', ed. 1898, vol. i. p. 403.)]
* * * * *
173.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh. [1]
Newstead Abbey, August 30th, 1811.
My Dear Augusta,--The embarrassments you mention in your last letter I
never heard of before, but that disease is epidemic in our family.
Neither have I been apprised of any of the changes at which you hint,
indeed how should I? On the borders of the Black Sea, we heard only of
the Russians. So you have much to tell, and all will be novelty.
I don't know what Scrope Davies [2] meant by telling you I liked
Children, I abominate the sight of them so much that I have always had
the greatest respect for the character of Herod. But, as my house here
is large enough for us all, we should go on very well, and I need not
tell you that I long to see _you_. I really do not perceive any thing so
formidable in a Journey hither of two days, but all this comes of
Matrimony, you have a Nurse and all the etceteras of a family. Well, I
must marry to repair the ravages of myself and prodigal ancestry, but if
I am ever so unfortunate as to be presented with an Heir, instead of a
_Rattle_ he shall be provided with a _Gag_.
I shall perhaps be able to accept D's invitation to Cambridge, but I
fear my stay in Lancashire will be prolonged, I proceed there in the 2d
week in Septr to arrange my coal concerns, & then if I can't persuade
some wealthy dowdy to ennoble the dirty puddle of her mercantile
Blood,--why--I shall leave England and all it's clouds for the East
again; I am very sick of it already. Joe [3] has been getting well of a
disease that would have killed a troop of horse; he promises to bear
away the palm of longevity from old Parr. As you won't come, you will
write; I long to hear all those unutterable things, being utterly unable
to guess at any of them, unless they concern _your_ relative the Thane
of Carlisle, [4] though I had great hopes we had done with him.
I have little to add that you do not already know, and being quite
alone, have no great variety of incident to gossip with; I am but rarely
pestered with visiters, and the few I have I get rid of as soon as
possible. I will now take leave of you in the Jargon of 1794. "Health &
_Fraternity!"_
Yours always, B.
[Footnote 1: For the Hon. Augusta Leigh, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 18,
'note' 1. [Footnote 1 of Letter 7] Byron's letter is in answer to the
following from his half-sister:
"6 Mile Bottom, Aug. 27th.
"My Dearest Brother,--Your letter was stupidly sent to Town to me on
Sunday, from whence I arrived at home yesterday; consequently I have
not received it so soon as I ought to have done. I feel so very happy
to have the pleasure of hearing from you that I will not delay a
moment answering it, altho' I am in all the delights of 'unpacking',
and afraid of being too late for the Post.
"I have been a fortnight in Town, and went up on my 'eldest' little
girl's account. She had been very unwell for some time, and I could
not feel happy till I had better advice than this neighbourhood
affords. She is, thank Heaven! much better, and I hope in a fair way
to be quite 'herself' again. Mr. Davies flattered me by saying she was
exactly the sort of child 'you' would delight in. I am determined not
to say another word in her praise for fear you should accuse me of
partiality and expect too much. The youngest ('little' Augusta) is
just 6 months old, and has no particular merit at present but a very
sweet placid temper.
"Oh! that I could immediately set out to Newstead and shew them to
you. I can't tell you 'half' the happiness it would give me to see it
and 'you'; but, my dearest B., it is a long journey and serious
undertaking all things considered. Mr. Davies writes me word you
promise to make him a visit bye and bye; 'pray do', you can then so
easily come here. I have set my heart upon it. Consider how very long
it is since I've seen you.
"I have indeed 'much' to tell you; but it is more easily 'said' than
'written'. Probably you have heard of many changes in our situation
since you left England; in a 'pecuniary' point of view it is
materially altered for the worse; perhaps in other respects better.
Col. Leigh has been in Dorsetshire and Sussex during my stay in Town.
I expect him at home towards the end of this week, and hope to make
him acquainted with you ere long.
"I have not time to write half I have to say, for my letter must go;
but I prefer writing in a hurry to not writing at all. You can't think
how much I feel for your griefs and losses, or how much and constantly
I have thought of you lately. I began a letter to you in Town, but
destroyed it, from the fear of appearing troublesome. There are times,
I know, when one cannot write with any degree of comfort or
satisfaction. I intend to do so again shortly, so I hope yon won't
think me a bore.
"Remember me most kindly to Old Joe. I rejoice to hear of his health
and prosperity. Your letter (some parts of it at least) made me laugh.
I am so very glad to hear you have sufficiently overcome your
prejudices against the 'fair sex' to have determined upon marrying;
but I shall be most anxious that my future 'Belle Soeur' should have
more attractions than merely money, though to be sure 'that' is
somewhat necessary. I have not another moment, dearest B., so forgive
me if I write again very soon, and believe me,
"Your most affec'tn Sister, A. L.
"Do write if you can."]
[Footnote 2: For Scrope Berdmore Davies, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 165,
'note' 2. [Footnote 2 of Letter 86] The following story is told of him
by Byron, in a passage of his 'Detached Thoughts' (Ravenna, 1821):
"One night Scrope Davies at a Gaming house (before I was of age),
being tipsy as he usually was at the Midnight hour, and having lost
monies, was in vain intreated by his friends, one degree less
intoxicated than himself, to come or go home. In despair, he was left
to himself and to the demons of the dice-box.
"Next day, being visited about two of the Clock, by some friends just
risen with a severe headache and empty pockets (who had left him
losing at four or five in the morning), he was found in a sound sleep,
without a night-cap, and not particularly encumbered with
bed-cloathes: a Chamber-pot stood by his bed-side, brim-full
of---'Bank Notes!', all won, God knows how, and crammed, Scrope knew
not where; but THERE they were, all good legitimate notes, and to the
amount of some thousand pounds."]
[Footnote 3: For Joe Murray, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 21, 'note' 3.
[Footnote 4 of Letter 7]]
[Footnote 4: For the Earl of Carlisle, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 36,
'note' 2. [Footnote 3 of Letter 13]]
* * * * *
174.-To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
Newstead Abbey, Aug'st 30th, 1811.
MY DEAR AUGUSTA,--I wrote to you yesterday, and as you will not be very
sorry to hear from me again, considering our long separation, I shall
fill up this sheet before I go to bed. I have heard something of a
quarrel between your spouse and the Prince, I don't wish to pry into
family secrets or to hear anything more of the matter, but I can't help
regretting on your account that so long an intimacy should be dissolved
at the very moment when your husband might have derived some advantage
from his R. H.'s friendship. However, at all events, and in all
Situations, you have a brother in me, and a home here.
I am led into this train of thinking by a part of your letter which
hints at pecuniary losses. I know how delicate one ought to be on such
subjects, but you are probably the only being on Earth _now_ interested
in my welfare, certainly the only relative, and I should be very
ungrateful if I did not feel the obligation. You must excuse my being a
little cynical, knowing how my _temper_ was tried in my Non-age; the
manner in which I was brought up must necessarily have broken a meek
Spirit, or rendered a fiery one ungovernable; the effect it has had on
mine I need not state.
However, buffeting with the World has brought me a little to reason, and
two years travel in distant and barbarous countries has accustomed me to
bear privations, and consequently to laugh at many things which would
have made me angry before. But I am wandering--in short I only want to
assure you that I love you, and that you must not think I am
indifferent, because I don't shew my affection in the usual way.
Pray can't you contrive to pay me a visit between this and Xmas? or
shall I carry you down with me from Cambridge, supposing it practicable
for me to come? You will do what you please, without our interfering
with each other; the premises are so delightfully extensive, that two
people might live together without ever seeing, hearing or meeting,--but
I can't feel the comfort of this till I marry. In short it would be the
most amiable matrimonial mansion, and that is another great inducement
to my plan,--my wife and I shall be so happy,--one in each Wing. If this
description won't make you come, I can't tell what will, you must please
yourself. Good night, I have to walk half a mile to my Bed chamber.
Yours ever, BYRON.
* * * * *
175.--To James Wedderburn Webster.
Newstead Abbey, Notts., Aug'st 31st, 1811.
MY DEAR W.,--I send you back your friend's letter, and, though I don't
agree with his Canons of Criticism, they are not the worse for that. My
friend Hodgson [1] is not much honoured by the comparison to the
'Pursuits of L.', which is notoriously, as far as the 'poetry' goes, the
worst written of its kind; the World has been long but of one opinion,
viz. that it's sole merit lies in the Notes, which are indisputably
excellent.
Had Hodgson's "Alterative" been placed with the 'Baviad' the compliment
had been higher to both; for, surely, the 'Baviad' is as much superior
to H.'s poem, as I do firmly believe H.'s poem to be to the 'Pursuits of
Literature'.
Your correspondent talks for talking's sake when he says "Lady J. Grey"
is neither "Epic, dramatic, or legendary." Who ever said it was "epic"
or "dramatic"? he might as well say his letter was neither "epic or
dramatic;" the poem makes no pretensions to either character.
"Legendary" it certainly is, but what has that to do with its merits?
All stories of that kind founded on facts are in a certain degree
legendary, but they may be well or ill written without the smallest
alteration in that respect. When Mr. Hare prattles about the "Economy,"
etc., he sinks sadly;--all such expressions are the mere cant of a
schoolboy hovering round the Skirts of Criticism.
Hodgson's tale is one of the best efforts of his Muse, and Mr. H.'s
approbation must be of more consequence, before any body will reduce it
to a "Scale," or be much affected by "the place" he "assigns" to the
productions of a man like Hodgson.
But I have said more than I intended and only beg you never to allow
yourself to be imposed upon by such "common place" as the 6th form
letter you sent me. Judge for yourself.
I know the Mr. Bankes [2] you mention though not to that "extreme" you
seem to think, but I am flattered by his "boasting" on such a subject
(as you say), for I never thought him likely to "boast" of any thing
which was not his own. I am not "'melancholish'"--pray what "'folk'"
dare to say any such thing? I must contradict them by being 'merry' at
their expence.
I shall invade you in the course of the winter, out of envy, as Lucifer
looked at Adam and Eve.
Pray be as happy as you can, and write to me that I may catch the
infection.
Yours ever, BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Webster had sent Byron a letter from Naylor Hare, in which
the latter criticized Hodgson's poems, 'Lady Jane Grey, a Tale; and
other Poems (1809)' (see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 195, 'note 1' [Footnote 1
of Letter 102]).
In the volume (pp. 56-77) was printed his "Gentle Alterative prepared
for the Reviewers," which Hare apparently compared to 'The Pursuits of
Literature (1794-97)', by T. J. Mathias.
To this criticism Byron objected, saying that the "Alterative" might be
more fairly compared to Gifford's 'Baviad' (1794).]
[Footnote 2: For William John Bankes, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 120,
'note' 1. [Footnote 1 of Letter 67]]
* * * * *
176.---To the Hon. Augusta Leigh. [1]
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 2d, 1811.
My dear Augusta,--I wrote you a vastly dutiful letter since my answer to
your second epistle, and I now write you a third, for which you have to
thank Silence and Solitude. Mr. Hanson [2] comes hither on the 14th, and
I am going to Rochdale on business, but that need not prevent you from
coming here, you will find Joe, and the house and the cellar and all
therein very much at your Service.
As to Lady B., when I discover one rich enough to suit me and foolish
enough to have me, I will give her leave to make me miserable if she
can. Money is the magnet; as to Women, one is as well as another, the
older the better, we have then a chance of getting her to Heaven. So,
your Spouse does not like brats better than myself; now those who beget
them have no right to find fault, but _I_ may rail with great propriety.
My "Satire!"--I am glad it made you laugh for Somebody told me in Greece
that you was angry, and I was sorry, as you were perhaps the only person
whom I did _not_ want to _make angry_.
But how you will make _me laugh_ I don't know, for it is a vastly
_serious_ subject to me I assure you; therefore take care, or I shall
hitch _you_ into the next Edition to make up our family party. Nothing
so fretful, so despicable as a Scribbler, see what _I_ am, and what a
parcel of Scoundrels I have brought about my ears, and what language I
have been obliged to treat them with to deal with them in their own
way;--all this comes of Authorship, but now I am in for it, and shall be
at war with Grubstreet, till I find some better amusement.
You will write to me your Intentions and may almost depend on my being
at Cambridge in October. You say you mean to be etc. in the _Autumn_; I
should be glad to know what you call this present Season, it would be
Winter in every other Country which I have seen. If we meet in October
we will travel in my _Vis_. and can have a cage for the children and a
cart for the Nurse. Or perhaps we can forward them by the Canal. Do let
us know all about it, your "_bright thought_" is a little clouded, like
the Moon in this preposterous climate.
Good even, Child.
Yours ever, B.
[Footnote 1: The following is Mrs. Leigh's letter, to which the above is
an answer:
"6 Mile Bottom, Saturday, 31 Aug.
"My dearest brother,--I hope you don't dislike receiving letters so
much as writing them, for you would in that case pronounce me a great
torment. But as I prepared you in my last for its being followed very
soon by another, I hope you will have reconciled your mind to the
impending toil. I really wrote in such a hurry that I did not say half
I wished; but I did not like to delay telling you how happy you made
me by writing. I have been dwelling constantly upon the idea of going
to Newstead ever since I had your wish to see me there. At last a
_bright thought_ struck me.
"We intend, I believe, to go to Yorkshire in the autumn. Now, if I
could contrive to pay you a visit _en passant_, it would be
delightful, and give me the greatest pleasure. But I fear you would be
obliged to make up your mind to receive my _Brats_ too. As for my
husband, he prefers the _outside of the Mail_ to _the inside of a
Post-Chaise_, particularly when partly occupied by Nurse and Children,
so that we always travel _independent_ of each other.
"So much for this, my dear B. I can only say I should _much_ like to
see you at Newstead. The former I hope I shall at all events, as you
must not be shabby, but come to Cambridge as you promised. Are you
staying at Newstead now for any time? I saw George Byron in Town for
one day, and he promised to call or write again, but has not done
either, so I begin to think he has gone back to Lisbon. I think it is
impossible not to like him; he is so good-natured and natural. We
talked much of you; he told me you were grown very thin; as you don't
complain, I hope you are not the worse for being so, and I remember
you used to wish it. Don't you think _it a great shame_ that George B.
is not promoted? I wish there was any possibility of assisting him
about it; but all I know who _could_ do any good with you _present_
Ministers, I don't for many reasons like to ask. Perhaps there may be
a change bye and bye.
"Fred Howard is married to Miss _Lambton_. I saw them in town in their
way to Castle Howard. I hope he will be happy with all my heart; his
kindness and friendship to us last year, when Col. _Leigh_ was placed
in one of the most perplexing situations that I think anybody could be
in, is never to be forgotten. I think he used to be a greater
favourite with you than some others of his family. _Mrs. F.H._ is very
pretty, _very_ young (not quite 17), and appears gentle and pleasing,
which is all one can expect [to discover from] a very slight
acquaintance.
"Now, my dearest Byron, pray let me hear from you. I shall be daily
expecting to hear of a _Lady Byron_, since you have confided to me
your determination of marrying, in which I really hope you are
serious, being convinced such an event would contribute greatly to
your happiness, PROVIDED _her Ladyship_ was the sort of person that
would suit you; and you won't be angry with me for saying that it is
not EVERY _one_ who would; therefore don't be too _precipitate_. You
will _wish me hanged_, I fear, for boring you so unmercifully, so God
bless you, my dearest Bro.; and, when you have time, do write. Are you
going to amuse us with any more _Satires_? Oh, _English Bards!_ I
shall make you laugh (when we meet) about it.
"Ever your most affectionate Sis. and Friend,
"A. L."]
[Footnote 2: For John Hanson, see Letters, vol. i. p. 8, note 2.
[Footnote 1 of Letter 3]]
* * * * *
177.--To Francis Hodgson.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 3, 1811.
MY DEAR HODGSON,--I will have nothing to do with your immortality; [1]
we are miserable enough in this life, without the absurdity of
speculating upon another. If men are to live, why die at all? and if
they die, why disturb the sweet and sound sleep that "knows no waking"?
"Post Mortem nihil est, ipsaque Mors nihil ... quaeris quo jaceas post
obitum loco? Quo _non_ Nata jacent." [2]
As to revealed religion, Christ came to save men; but a good Pagan will
go to heaven, and a bad Nazarene to hell; "Argal" (I argue like the
gravedigger) why are not all men Christians? or why are any? If mankind
may be saved who never heard or dreamt, at Timbuctoo, Otaheite, Terra
Incognita, etc., of Galilee and its Prophet, Christianity is of no
avail: if they cannot be saved without, why are not all orthodox? It is
a little hard to send a man preaching to Judaea, and leave the rest of
the world--Negers and what not--_dark_ as their complexions, without a
ray of light for so many years to lead them on high; and who will
believe that God will damn men for not knowing what they were never
taught? I hope I am sincere; I was so at least on a bed of sickness in a
far-distant country, when I had neither friend, nor comforter, nor hope,
to sustain me. I looked to death as a relief from pain, without a wish
for an after-life, but a confidence that the God who punishes in this
existence had left that last asylum for the weary.
[Greek: Hon ho theos agapaei apothnaeskei neos.] [3]
I am no Platonist, I am nothing at all; but I would sooner be a
Paulician, Manichean, Spinozist, Gentile, Pyrrhonian, Zoroastrian, than
one of the seventy-two villainous sects who are tearing each other to
pieces for the love of the Lord and hatred of each other. Talk of
Galileeism? Show me the effects--are you better, wiser, kinder by your
precepts? I will bring you ten Mussulmans shall shame you in all
goodwill towards men, prayer to God, and duty to their neighbours. And
is there a Talapoin, [4] or a Bonze, who is not superior to a
fox-hunting curate? But I will say no more on this endless theme; let me
live, well if possible, and die without pain. The rest is with God, who
assuredly, had He _come_ or _sent_, would have made Himself manifest to
nations, and intelligible to all.
I shall rejoice to see you. My present intention is to accept Scrope
Davies's invitation; and then, if you accept mine, we shall meet _here_
and _there_. Did you know poor Matthews? I shall miss him much at
Cambridge.
[Footnote 1: The religious discussion arose out of the opening stanzas
of 'Childe Harold', Canto II., which Hodgson was helping to correct for
the press.
Byron's opinions were not newly formed, as is shown by the following
letter to Ensign Long (see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 73, 'note 2' [Footnote
2 of Letter 31]), which reached the Editor too late for insertion in its
proper place:
Southwell, Ap: 16th, 1807.
"Your Epistle, my dear Standard Bearer, augurs not much in favour of
your new life, particularly the latter part, where you say your
happiest Days are over. I most sincerely hope not. The past has
certainly in some parts been pleasant, but I trust will be equalled,
if not exceeded by the future. You hope it is not so with me.
"To be plain with Regard to myself. Nature stampt me in the Die of
Indifference. I consider myself as destined never to be happy,
although in some instances fortunate. I am an isolated Being on the
Earth, without a Tie to attach me to life, except a few
School-fellows, and a 'score of females.' Let me but 'hear my fame on
the winds' and the song of the Bards in my Norman house, I ask no more
and don't expect so much. Of Religion I know nothing, at least in its
'favour'. We have 'fools' in all sects and Impostors in most; why
should I believe mysteries no one understands, because written by men
who chose to mistake madness for Inspiration, and style themselves
'Evangelicals?' However enough on this subject. Your 'piety' will be
'aghast,' and I wish for no proselytes. This much I will venture to
affirm, that all the virtues and pious 'Deeds' performed on Earth can
never entitle a man to Everlasting happiness in a future State; nor on
the other hand can such a Scene as a Seat of eternal punishment exist,
it is incompatible with the benign attributes of a Deity to suppose
so.
"I am surrounded here by parsons and methodists, but, as you will
see, not infected with the mania. I have lived a 'Deist', what I shall
die I know not; however, come what may, 'ridens moriar'.
"Nothing detains me here but the publication, which will not be
complete till June. About 20 of the present pieces will be cut out,
and a number of new things added. Amongst them a complete Episode of
Nisus and Euryalus from Virgil, some Odes from Anacreon, and several
original Odes, the whole will cover 170 pages. My last production has
been a poem in imitation of Ossian, which I shall not publish, having
enough without it. Many of the present poems are enlarged and altered,
in short you will behold an 'Old friend with a new face.' Were I to
publish all I have written in Rhyme, I should fill a decent Quarto;
however, half is quite enough at present. You shall have 'all' when we
meet.
"I grow thin daily; since the commencement of my System I have lost 23
lbs. in my weight '(i.e.)' 1 st. and 9 lbs. When I began I weighed 14
st. 6 lbs., and on Tuesday I found myself reduced to 12 st. 11 lb.
What sayest thou, Ned? do you not envy? I shall still proceed till I
arrive at 12 st. and then stop, at least if I am not too fat, but
shall always live temperately and take much exercise.
"If there is a possibility we shall meet in June. I shall be in Town,
before I proceed to Granta, and if the 'mountain will not come to
Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the mountain.' I don't mean, by comparing
you to the mountain, to insinuate anything on the Subject of your
Size. Xerxes, it is said, formed Mount Athos into the Shape of a
Woman; had he lived now, and taken a peep at Chatham, he would have
spared himself the trouble and made it unnecessary by finding a 'Hill'
ready cut to his wishes.
"Adieu, dear Mont Blanc, or rather 'Mont Rouge'; don't, for Heaven's
sake, turn Volcanic, at least roll the Lava of your indignation in any
other Channel, and not consume Your's ever,
"BYRON.
"_Write Immediately_."
Byron lived to modify these opinions, as is shown by the following
passages from his 'Detached Thoughts':
"If I were to live over again, I do not know what I would change in my
life, unless it were 'for--not to have lived at all'. All history and
experience, and the rest, teaches us that the good and evil are pretty
equally balanced in this existence, and that what is most to be
desired is an easy passage out of it. What can it give us but years?
and those have little of good but their ending.
"Of the immortality of the soul it appears to me that there can be
little doubt, if we attend for a moment to the action of mind; it is
in perpetual activity. I used to doubt of it, but reflection has
taught me better. It acts also so very independent of body--in dreams,
for instance;--incoherently and 'madly', I grant you, but still it is
mind, and much more mind than when we are awake. Now that this should
not act 'separately', as well as jointly, who can pronounce? The
stoics, Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, call the present state 'a soul
which drags a carcass,'--a heavy chain, to be sure; but all chains
being material may be shaken off. How far our future life will be
'individual', or, rather, how far it will at all resemble our
'present' existence, is another question; but that the mind is eternal
seems as probable as that the body is not so. Of course I here venture
upon the question without recurring to Revelation, which, however, is
at least as rational a solution of it as any other. A 'material'
resurrection seems strange, and even absurd, except for purposes of
punishment; and all punishment which is to 'revenge' rather than
'correct' must be 'morally wrong'; and 'when the world is at an end',
what moral or warning purpose 'can' eternal tortures answer? Human
passions have probably disfigured the divine doctrines here;--but the
whole thing is inscrutable."
"It is useless to tell me 'not' to 'reason', but to 'believe'. You
might as well tell a man not to wake, but 'sleep'. And then to 'bully'
with torments, and all that! I cannot help thinking that the 'menace'
of hell makes as many devils as the severe penal codes of inhuman
humanity make villains."
"Man is born 'passionate' of body, but with an innate though secret
tendency to the love of good in his main-spring of mind. But, God help
us all! it is at present a sad jar of atoms."]
[Footnote 2: The lines are quoted from Seneca's 'Troades' (act ii. et
seqq.):
"Post mortem nihil est, ipsaque mors nihil.
........
........
Quaeris, quo jaceas post obitum loco?
Quo non nata jacent."]
[Footnote 3: The sentiment is found in one of the [Greek: monostichoi]
of Menander ('Menandri et Philemonis reliquiae,' edidit Augustus Meineke,
p. 48). It is thus quoted by Stobaeus ('Florilegium', cxx. 8) as an
iambic:
[Greek: Hon oi theoi philousin apothnaeskei neos.]
In the 'Comicorum Graecorum Sententiae, id est' [Greek: gnomai](p. 219,
ed, Henricus Stephanus, MDLXIX.) it is quoted as a leonine verse:
[Greek: Hon gar philei theos apothnaeskei neos.]
Plautus gives it thus ('Bacchides', iv. 7):
"Quem di diligunt adolescens moritur."]
[Footnote 4: The word is said to be illegible, and the conclusion of the
letter to be lost ('Memoir of the Rev. Francis Hodgson', vol. i. p.
196). Only the latter statement is correct. The word is perfectly
legible. Talapoin (Yule's 'Glossary of Anglo-Indian Words, sub voce') is
the name used by the Portuguese, and after them by the French writers,
and by English travellers of the seventeenth century (Hakluyt, ed. 1807,
vol. ii. p. 93; and Purchas, ed. 1645, vol. ii. p. 1747), to designate
the Buddhist monks of Ceylon and the Indo-Chinese countries. Pallegoix
('Description du Royaume Thai ou Siam', vol. ii. p. 23) says,
"Les Europeens les ont appeles 'talapoins', probablement du nom de
l'eventail qu'ils tiennent a la main, lequel s'appelle 'talapat', qui
signifie 'feuille de palmier'."
Possibly Byron knew the word through Voltaire ('Dial.' xxii., 'Andre des
Couches a Siam');
"'A. des C.': Combien avez-vous de soldats?
'Croutef.': Quatre-vingt mille, fort mediocrement payes.
'A. des C.': Et de talapoins?
'Cr.': Cent vingt-mille, tous faineans et tres riches," etc.]
* * * * *
178.--To R.C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, September 4th, 1811.
My dear Sir,--I am at present anxious, as Cawthorn seems to wish it, to
have a small edition of the 'Hints from Horace' [1] published
immediately, but the Latin (the most difficult poem in the language)
renders it necessary to be very particular not only in correcting the
proofs with Horace open, but in adapting the parallel passages of the
imitation in such places to the original as may enable the reader not to
lose sight of the allusion. I don't know whether I ought to ask you to
do this, but I am too far off to do it for myself; and if you condescend
to my school-boy erudition, you will oblige me by setting this thing
going, though you will smile at the importance I attach to it.
Believe me, ever yours,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: 'Hints from Horace', written during Byron's second stay at
Athens, March 11-14, 1811, and subsequently added to, had been placed in
the hands of Cawthorn, the publisher of 'English Bards, and Scotch
Reviewers', for publication. Byron afterwards changed his mind, and the
poem remained unpublished till after his death.
The following letter from Cawthorn shows that considerable progress had
been made with the printing of the poem, and that Byron also
contemplated another edition of 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers'.
The advice of his friends led him to abandon both plans; but his letter
to Cawthorn, printed below, is evidence that in September he was still
at work on 'Hints from Horace':
"24, Cockspur Street, Aug. 22'd, 1811.
"My Lord,--Mr. Green the Amanuensis has finished the Latin of the
Horace, and I shall be happy to do with it as your Lordship may
direct, either to forward it to Newstead, or keep it in Town. Would it
not be better to print a small edition seperate ('sic'), and
afterwards print the two satires together? This I leave to your
Lordship's consideration. Four Sheets of the 'Travels' are already
printed, and one of the plates (Albanian Solain) is executed. I sent
it Capt. H[obhouse] yesterday to Cork, to see if it meets his
approbation. The work is printed in quarto, for which I may be in some
measure indebted to your Lordship, as I urged it so strongly. I shall
be extremely sorry if Capt. H. is not pleased with it, but I think he
will. Your Lordship's goodness will excuse me for saying how much the
very sudden and melancholy events that have lately transpired--I
regret--Capt. Hobhouse has written me since the decease of Mr.
Mathews. I am told Capt. H. is very much affected at it. I have
received some drawings of costumes from him, which I am to deliver to
your Lordship. Is it likely we shall see your Lordship in Town soon?
"I have the honour to be your Lordship's
"Most respectful and greatly obliged Servt.,
"JAMES CAWTHORN.
"If a small edition is printed of 'Horace' for the first" [words
erased] "that, and I think in all probability the 'E. Bards' will want
reprinting about March next, when both could be done together. Do not
think me too sanguine."
A few days later, Byron writes to Cawthom as follows:
"Newstead Abbey, September 4th, 1811.
"More notes for the 'Hints'! You mistake me much by thinking me
inattentive to this publication. If I had a friend willing and able to
correct the press, it should be out with my good will immediately.
Pray attend to annexing additional notes in their proper places, and
let them be added immediately.
"Yours, etc.,
"BYRON."]
* * * * *
179.--To John Murray. [1]
Newstead Abbey, Notts., Sept. 5, 1811.
SIR,--The time seems to be past when (as Dr. Johnson said) a man was
certain to "hear the truth from his bookseller," for you have paid me
so many compliments, that, if I was not the veriest scribbler on earth,
I should feel affronted. As I accept your compliments, it is but fair I
should give equal or greater credit to your objections, the more so as I
believe them to be well founded. With regard to the political and
metaphysical parts, I am afraid I can alter nothing; but I have high
authority for my Errors in that point, for even the 'AEneid' was a
_political_ poem, and written for a _political_ purpose; and as to my
unlucky opinions on Subjects of more importance, I am too sincere in
them for recantation. On Spanish affairs I have said what I saw, and
every day confirms me in that notion of the result formed on the Spot;
and I rather think honest John Bull is beginning to come round again to
that Sobriety which Massena's retreat [2] had begun to reel from its
centre--the usual consequence of _un_usual success. So you perceive I
cannot alter the Sentiments; but if there are any alterations in the
structure of the versification you would wish to be made, I will tag
rhymes and turn stanzas as much as you please. As for the "_Orthodox_,"
let us hope they will buy, on purpose to abuse--you will forgive the
one, if they will do the other. You are aware that any thing from my pen
must expect no quarter, on many accounts; and as the present publication
is of a nature very different from the former, we must not be sanguine.
You have given me no answer to my question--tell me fairly, did you show
the MS. to some of your corps? [3]
I sent an introductory stanza to Mr. Dallas, that it might be forwarded
to you; the poem else will open too abruptly. The Stanzas had better be
numbered in Roman characters, there is a disquisition on the literature
of the modern Greeks, and some smaller poems to come in at the close.
These are now at Newstead, but will be sent in time. If Mr. D. has lost
the Stanza and note annexed to it, write, and I will send it
myself.--You tell me to add two cantos, but I am about to visit my
_Collieries_ in Lancashire on the 15th instant, which is so _unpoetical_
an employment that I need say no more.
I am, sir, your most obedient, etc., etc.,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: The following is Murray's letter, to which Byron replies:
"London, Sept. 4, 1811, Wednesday.
"MY LORD,--An absence of some days, passed in the country, has
prevented me from writing earlier in answer to your obliging letter. I
have now, however, the pleasure of sending under a separate cover, the
first proof sheet of your Lordship's 'Poem', which is so good as to be
entitled to all your care to render perfect. Besides its general
merit, there are parts, which, I am tempted to believe, far excel
anything that your Lordship has hitherto published, and it were
therefore grievous indeed, if you do not condescend to bestow upon it
all the improvement of which your Lordship's mind is so capable; every
correction already made is valuable, and this circumstance renders me
more confident in soliciting for it your further attention.
"There are some expressions, too, concerning Spain and Portugal,
which, however just, and particularly so at the time they were
conceived, yet as they do not harmonize with the general feeling,
would so greatly interfere with the popularity which the poem is, in
other respects, so certainly calculated to excite, that, in compassion
to your publisher, who does not presume to reason upon the subject,
otherwise than as a mere matter of business, I hope your Lordship's
goodness will induce you to obviate them, and, with them, perhaps,
some religious feelings which may deprive me of some customers amongst
the 'Orthodox'.
"Could I flatter myself that these suggestions were not obtrusive, I
would hazard another, in an earnest solicitation that your Lordship
would add the two promised Cantos, and complete the 'Poem'. It were
cruel indeed not to perfect a work which contains so much that is
excellent; your Fame, my Lord, demands it; you are raising a Monument
that will outlive your present feelings, and it should therefore be so
constructed as to excite no other associations than those of respect
and admiration for your Lordship's Character and Genius.
"I trust that you will pardon the warmth of this address when I assure
your Lordship that it arises, in the greatest degree, in a sincere
regard for your lasting reputation, with, however, some view to that
portion of it, which must attend the Publisher of so beautiful a Poem,
as your Lordship is capable of rendering
"'The Romaunt of Childe Harold'.
"I have the honour to be, My Lord,
"Your Lordship's
"Obedient and faithful servant,
"JOHN MURRAY."]
[Footnote 2: On the night of March 5, 1811, Massena retreated from his
camp at Santarem, whence he had watched Wellington at Torres Vedras, and
on April 4 he crossed the Coa into Spain.]
[Footnote 3: Murray had shown the MS. to Gifford for advice as to its
publication. Byron seems to have resented this on the ground that it
might look like an attempt to propitiate the 'Quarterly Review'.]
* * * * *
180.--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, September 7, 1811.
As Gifford has been ever my "Magnus Apollo," any approbation, such as
you mention, would, of course, be more welcome than "all Bocara's
vaunted gold", than all "the gems of Samarcand." [1] But I am sorry the
MS. was shown to him in such a manner, and had written to Murray to say
as much, before I was aware that it was too late.
Your objection to the expression "central line" I can only meet by
saying that, before Childe Harold left England, it was his full
intention to traverse Persia, and return by India, which he could not
have done without passing the equinoctial.
The other errors you mention, I must correct in the progress through the
press. I feel honoured by the wish of such men that the poem should be
continued, but to do that I must return to Greece and Asia; I must have
a warm sun, a blue sky; I cannot describe scenes so dear to me by a
sea-coal fire. I had projected an additional canto when I was in the
Troad and Constantinople, and if I saw them again, it would go on; but
under existing circumstances and 'sensations', I have neither harp,
"heart, nor voice" to proceed, I feel that 'you are all right' as to the
metaphysical part; but I also feel that I am sincere, and that if I am
only to write "ad captandum vulgus," I might as well edit a magazine at
once, or spin canzonettas for Vauxhall. [2]
My work must make its way as well as it can; I know I have every thing
against me, angry poets and prejudices; but if the poem is a 'poem', it
will surmount these obstacles, and if 'not', it deserves its fate. Your
friend's Ode [3] I have read--it is no great compliment to pronounce it
far superior to Smythe's on the same subject, or to the merits of the
new Chancellor. It is evidently the production of a man of taste, and a
poet, though I should not be willing to say it was fully equal to what
might be expected from the author of "'Horae Ionicae'." [4] I thank you
for it, and that is more than I would do for any other Ode of the
present day.
I am very sensible of your good wishes, and, indeed, I have need of
them. My whole life has been at variance with propriety, not to say
decency; my circumstances are become involved; my friends are dead or
estranged, and my existence a dreary void. In Matthews I have lost my
"guide, philosopher, and friend;" in Wingfield a friend only, but one
whom I could have wished to have preceded in his long journey.
Matthews was indeed an extraordinary man; it has not entered into the
heart of a stranger to conceive such a man: there was the stamp of
immortality in all he said or did;--and now what is he? When we see such
men pass away and be no more--men, who seem created to display what the
Creator 'could make' his creatures, gathered into corruption, before the
maturity of minds that might have been the pride of posterity, what are
we to conclude? For my own part, I am bewildered. To me he was much, to
Hobhouse every thing. My poor Hobhouse doted on Matthews. For me, I did
not love quite so much as I honoured him; I was indeed so sensible of
his infinite superiority, that though I did not envy, I stood in awe of
it. He, Hobhouse, Davies, and myself, formed a coterie of our own at
Cambridge and elsewhere. Davies is a wit and man of the world, and feels
as much as such a character can do; but not as Hobhouse has been
affected. Davies, who is not a scribbler, has always beaten us all in
the war of words, and by his colloquial powers at once delighted and
kept us in order. Hobhouse and myself always had the worst of it with
the other two; and even Matthews yielded to the dashing vivacity of
Scrope Davies. But I am talking to you of men, or boys, as if you cared
about such beings.
I expect mine agent down on the 14th to proceed to Lancashire, where I
hear from all quarters that I have a very valuable property in coals,
etc. I then intend to accept an invitation to Cambridge in October, and
shall, perhaps, run up to town. I have four invitations--to Wales,
Dorset, Cambridge, and Chester; but I must be a man of business. I am
quite alone, as these long letters sadly testify. I perceive, by
referring to your letter, that the Ode is from the author; make my
thanks acceptable to him. His muse is worthy a nobler theme. You will
write as usual, I hope. I wish you good evening, and am, etc.
[Footnote 1: The lines, which are parodied in Byron's unpublished
'Barmaid', are from Sir W. Jones's translation of a song by Hafiz
('Works, vol. x. p. 251):
"Sweet maid, if thou would'st charm my sight,
And bid these arms thy neck infold;
That rosy cheek, that lily hand,
Would give thy poet more delight,
Than all Bocara's vaunted gold,
Than all the gems of Samarcand."]
[Footnote 2: Vauxhall Gardens (1661 to July 25, 1859) were still not
only a popular but a fashionable resort, though fireworks and
masquerades threatened to expel musicians and vocalists. At this time
the principal singers were Charles Dignum (1765-1827); Maria Theresa
Bland (1769-1838), a famous ballad-singer; Rosoman Mountain, 'nee'
Wilkinson (1768-1841), whose husband was a violinist and leader at
Vauxhall.--('The London Pleasure Gardens', pp. 286-326.)]
[Footnote 3: On June 29, 1811, the Duke of Gloucester was installed as
Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. The Installation Ode, written
by W. Smyth, of Peterhouse (1765-1849), Professor of Modern History at
Cambridge, and author of 'English Lyrics' (1797) and other works, was
set to music by Hague, and performed in the Senate House, Braham and
Ashe, it is said, particularly distinguishing themselves among the
performers. The Ode is given in the 'Annual Register' for 1811, pp.
593-596. The rival Ode, which Byron preferred, was by Walter Rodwell
Wright.]
[Footnote 4: For Walter Rodwell Wright, author of 'Horae Ionicae' (1809),
see Letters, vol. i. p. 336, 'note' 1. [Footnote 2 of Letter 167]]
* * * * *
181.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
[Six Mile Bottom, Newmarket.]
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 9th, 1811.
My Dear Augusta,--My Rochdale affairs are understood to be settled as
far as the Law can settle them, and indeed I am told that the most
valuable part is that which was never disputed; but I have never reaped
any advantage from them, and God knows if I ever shall. Mr. H., my
agent, is a good man and able, but the most dilatory in the world. I
expect him down on the 14th to accompany me to Rochdale, where something
will be decided as to selling or working the Collieries. I am Lord of
the Manor (a most extensive one), and they want to enclose, which cannot
be done without me; but I go there in the worst humour possible and am
afraid I shall do or say something not very conciliatory. In short all
my affairs are going on as badly as possible, and I have no hopes or
plans to better them as I long ago pledged myself never to sell
Newstead, which I mean to hold in defiance of the Devil and Man.
I am quite alone and never see strangers without being sick, but I am
nevertheless on good terms with my neighbours, for I neither ride or
shoot or move over my Garden walls, but I fence and box and swim and run
a good deal to keep me in exercise and get me to sleep. Poor Murray is
ill again, and one of my Greek servants is ill too, and my valet has got
a pestilent cough, so that we are in a peck of troubles; my family
Surgeon sent an Emetic this morning for _one_ of them, I did not very
well know _which_, but I swore _Somebody_ should take it, so after a
deal of discussion the Greek swallowed it with tears in his eyes, and by
the blessing of it, and the _Virgin_ whom he invoked to assist _it_ and
_him_, I suppose he'll be well tomorrow, if not, _another_ shall have
the _next_. So your Spouse likes children, _that_ is lucky as he will
have to bring them up; for my part (since I lost my Newfoundland dog,) I
like nobody except his successor a Dutch Mastiff and three land
Tortoises brought with me from Greece.
I thank you for your letters and am always glad to hear from you, but if
you won't come here before Xmas, I very much fear we shall not meet
_here_ at all, for I shall be off somewhere or other very soon out of
this land of Paper credit (or rather no credit at all, for every body
seems on the high road to Bankruptcy), and if I quit it again I shall
not be back in a hurry.
However, I shall endeavour to see you somewhere, and make my bow with
decorum before I return to the Ottomans, I believe I shall turn
Mussulman in the end.
You ask after my health; I am in tolerable leanness, which I promote by
exercise and abstinence. I don't know that I have acquired any thing by
my travels but a smattering of two languages and a habit of chewing
Tobacco. [1]
Yours ever,
B.
[Footnote 1: To appease the pangs of hunger, and keep down his fat,
Byron was in the habit of chewing gum-mastic and tobacco. For the same
reason, at a later date, he took opium. The mistake which he makes in
his letter to Hodgson (December 8,1811), "I do nothing but eschew
tobacco," is repeated in 'Don Juan' (Canto XII. stanza xiiii.)--
"In fact, there's nothing makes me so much grieve,
As that abominable tittle-tattle,
Which is the cud eschewed by human cattle."]
* * * * *
182.--To Francis Hodgson.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 9, 1811.
Dear Hodgson,--I have been a good deal in your company lately, for I
have been reading 'Juvenal' and 'Lady Jane', [1] etc., for the first
time since my return. The Tenth Sat'e has always been my favourite, as I
suppose indeed of everybody's. It is the finest recipe for making one
miserable with his life, and content to walk out of it, in any language.
I should think it might be redde with great effect to a man dying
without much pain, in preference to all the stuff that ever was said or
sung in churches. But you are a deacon, and I say no more. Ah! you will
marry and become lethargic, like poor Hal of Harrow, [2] who yawns at 10
o' nights, and orders caudle annually.
I wrote an answer to yours fully some days ago, and, being quite alone
and able to frank, you must excuse this subsequent epistle, which will
cost nothing but the trouble of deciphering. I am expectant of agents to
accompany me to Rochdale, a journey not to be anticipated with pleasure;
though I feel very restless where I am, and shall probably ship off for
Greece again; what nonsense it is to talk of Soul, when a cloud makes it
_melancholy_ and wine makes it _mad_.
Collet of Staines, your "most kind host," has lost that girl you saw of
his. She grew to five feet eleven, and might have been God knows how
high if it had pleased Him to renew the race of Anak; but she fell by a
ptisick, a fresh proof of the folly of begetting children. You knew
Matthews. Was he not an intellectual giant? I knew few better or more
intimately, and none who deserved more admiration in point of ability.
Scrope Davies has been here on his way to Harrowgate; I am his guest in
October at King's, where we will "drink deep ere we depart." "Won't you,
won't you, won't you, won't you come, Mr. Mug?" [3] We did not
amalgamate properly at Harrow; it was somehow rainy, and then a wife
makes such a damp; but in a seat of celibacy I will have revenge. Don't
you hate helping first, and losing the wings of chicken? And then,
conversation is always flabby. Oh! in the East women are in their proper
sphere, and one has--no conversation at all. My house here is a
delightful matrimonial mansion. When I wed, my spouse and I will be so
happy!--one in each wing.
I presume you are in motion from your Herefordshire station, [4] and
Drury must be gone back to Gerund Grinding. I have not been at Cambridge
since I took my M.A. degree in 1808. _Eheu fugaces!_ I look forward to
meeting you and Scrope there with the feelings of other times. Capt.
Hobhouse is at Enniscorthy in Juverna. I wish he was in England.
Yours ever,
B.
[Footnote 1: See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 195, 'note' I. [Footnote 1 of
Letter 102]]
[Footnote 2: For Henry Drury, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 41, 'note' 2.
[Footnote 1 of Letter 14]]
[Footnote 3: Byron may possibly allude to "Matthew Mug," a character in
Foote's 'Mayor of Garratt', said to be intended for the Duke of
Newcastle. In act ii. sc. 2 of the comedy occurs this passage--
"'Heel-Tap'. Now, neighbours, have a good caution that this Master Mug
does not cajole you; he is a damn'd palavering fellow."
But there is no passage in the play which exactly corresponds with
Byron's quotation.]
[Footnote 4: Hodgson was staying with his uncle, the Rev. Richard Coke,
of Lower Moor, Herefordshire.]
* * * * *
183.--To R.C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 10, 1811.
Dear Sir,--I rather think in one of the opening stanzas of 'Childe
Harold' there is this line:
'Tis said at times the sullen tear would start.
Now, a line or two after, I have a repetition of the epithet "_sullen_
reverie;" so (if it be so) let us have "speechless reverie," or "silent
reverie;" but, at all events, do away the recurrence.
Yours ever,
B.
* * * * *
184.--To Francis Hodgson.
Newstead Abbey, September 13, 1811.
My Dear Hodgson,--I thank you for your song, or, rather, your two
songs,--your new song on love, and your _old song_ on _religion_. [1] I
admire the _first_ sincerely, and in turn call upon you to _admire_ the
following on Anacreon Moore's new operatic farce, [2] or farcical
opera--call it which you will:
Good plays are scarce,
So Moore writes _Farce_;
Is Fame like his so brittle?
We knew before
That "_Little's" Moore_,
But now _'tis Moore_ that's _Little_.
I won't dispute with you on the Arcana of your new calling; they are
Bagatelles like the King of Poland's rosary. One remark, and I have
done; the basis of your religion is _injustice_; the _Son_ of _God_, the
_pure_, the _immaculate_, the _innocent_, is sacrificed for the
_Guilty_. This proves _His_ heroism; but no more does away _man's_ guilt
than a schoolboy's volunteering to be flogged for another would
exculpate the dunce from negligence, or preserve him from the Rod. You
degrade the Creator, in the first place, by making Him a begetter of
children; and in the next you convert Him into a Tyrant over an
immaculate and injured Being, who is sent into existence to suffer death
for the benefit of some millions of Scoundrels, who, after all, seem as
likely to be damned as ever. As to miracles, I agree with Hume that it
is more probable men should _lie_ or be _deceived_, than that things out
of the course of Nature should so happen. Mahomet wrought miracles,
Brothers [3] the prophet had _proselytes_, and so would Breslaw [4] the
conjuror, had he lived in the time of Tiberius.
Besides I trust that God is not a _Jew_, but the God of all Mankind; and
as you allow that a virtuous Gentile may be saved, you do away the
necessity of being a Jew or a Christian.
I do not believe in any revealed religion, because no religion is
revealed: and if it pleases the Church to damn me for not allowing a
_nonentity_, I throw myself on the mercy of the "_Great First Cause,
least understood_," who must do what is most proper; though I conceive
He never made anything to be tortured in another life, whatever it may
in this. I will neither read _pro_ nor _con_. God would have made His
will known without books, considering how very few could read them when
Jesus of Nazareth lived, had it been His pleasure to ratify any peculiar
mode of worship. As to your immortality, if people are to live, why die?
And our carcases, which are to rise again, are they worth raising? I
hope, if mine is, that I shall have a better _pair of legs_ than I have
moved on these two-and-twenty years, or I shall be sadly behind in the
squeeze into Paradise. Did you ever read "Malthus on Population"? If he
be right, war and pestilence are our best friends, to save us from being
eaten alive, in this "best of all possible Worlds." [5]
I will write, read, and think no more; indeed, I do not wish to shock
your prejudices by saying all I do think. Let us make the most of life,
and leave dreams to Emanuel Swedenborg. Now to dreams of another
genus--Poesies. I like your song much; but I will say no more, for fear
you should think I wanted to scratch you into approbation of my past,
present, or future acrostics. I shall not be at Cambridge before the
middle of October; but, when I go, I should certes like to see you there
before you are dubbed a deacon. Write to me, and I will rejoin.
Yours ever, BYRON.
[Footnote 1: The lines in which Hodgson answered Byron's letter on his
religious opinions are quoted in the 'Memoir of the Rev. F. Hodgson',
vol. i. pp. 199, 200.]
[Footnote 2: Moore's 'M.P., or The Bluestocking', was played at the
Lyceum, September 9, 1811, but was soon withdrawn.]
[Footnote 3: Richard Brothers (1757-1824) believed that, in 1795, he was
to be revealed as Prince of the Hebrews and ruler of the world. In that
year he was arrested, and confined first as a criminal lunatic,
afterwards in a private asylum, where he remained till 1806. A portrait
of "Richard Brothers, Prince of the Hebrews," was engraved, April, 1795,
by William Sharp, with the following inscription:
"Fully believing this to be the Man whom God has appointed, I engrave
this likeness. William Sharp."]
[Footnote 4: See 'Breslaw's Last Legacy; or, the Magical Companion'.
Including the various exhibitions of those wonderful Artists, Breslaw,
Sieur Comus, Jonas, etc. (1784).]
[Footnote 5: 'Candide, ou l'Optimisms' (chapitre xxx.):
"et Pangloss disait quelquefois a Candide; Tous les evenements sont
enchaines dans le meilleur des mondes possibles," etc.
Hodgson replies (September 18, 1811):
"Your last letter has unfeignedly grieved me. Believing, as I do from
my heart, that you would be better and happier by thoroughly examining
the evidences for Christianity, how can I hear you say you will not
read any book on the subject, without being pained? But God bless you
under all circumstances. I will say no more. Only do not talk of
'shocking my prejudices,' or of 'rushing to see me 'before' I am a
Deacon.' I wish to see you at all times; and as to our different
opinions, we can easily keep them to ourselves."
The next day he writes again:
"Let me make one other effort. You mentioned an opinion of Hume's
about miracles. For God's sake,--hear me, Byron, for God's
sake--examine Paley's answer to that opinion; examine the whole of
Paley's 'Evidences'. The two volumes may be read carefully in less
than a week. Let me for the last time by our friendship, implore you
to read them."]
* * * * *
185.--To John Murray. [1]
Newstead Abbey, Notts., Sept. 14, 1811.
Sir,--Since your former letter, Mr. Dallas informs me that the MS. has
been submitted to the perusal of Mr. Gifford, most contrary to my
wishes, as Mr. D. could have explained, and as my own letter to you did,
in fact, explain, with my motives for objecting to such a proceeding.
Some late domestic events, of which you are probably aware, prevented my
letter from being sent before; indeed, I hardly conceived you would have
so hastily thrust my productions into the hands of a Stranger, who could
be as little pleased by receiving them, as their author is at their
being offered, in such a manner, and to such a Man.
My address, when I leave Newstead, will be to "Rochdale, Lancashire;"
but I have not yet fixed the day of departure, and I will apprise you
when ready to set off.
You have placed me in a very ridiculous situation, but it is past, and
nothing more is to be said on the subject. You hinted to me that you
wished some alterations to be made; if they have nothing to do with
politics or religion, I will make them with great readiness.
I am, Sir, etc., etc., BYRON.
[Footnote 1: As soon as Byron came to town, he was a frequent visitor at
32, Fleet Street, while the sheets of 'Childe Harold' were passing
through the press.
"Fresh from the fencing rooms of Angelo and Jackson, he used to amuse
himself by renewing his practice of 'Carte et Tierce', with his
walking-cane directed against the bookshelves, while Murray was
reading passages from the poem with occasional ejaculations of
admiration, on which Byron would say, 'You think that a good idea, do
you, Murray?' Then he would fence and lunge with his walking-stick at
some special book which he had picked out on the shelves before him.
As Murray afterwards said, 'I was often very glad to get rid of him!'"
(Smiles's 'Memoir of John Murray', vol. i. p. 207).]
* * * * *
186.--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 15, 1811.
My dear Sir,--My agent will not he here for at least a week, and even
afterwards my letters will be forwarded to Rochdale. I am sorry that
Murray should _groan_ on my account, tho' _that_ is better than the
anticipation of applause, of which men and books are generally
disappointed.
The notes I sent are _merely matter_ to be divided, arranged, and
published for _notes_ hereafter, in proper places; at present I am too
much occupied with earthly cares to waste time or trouble upon rhyme, or
its modern indispensables, annotations.
Pray let me hear from you, when at leisure. I have written to abuse
Murray for showing the MS. to Mr. G., who must certainly think it was
done by my wish, though you know the contrary.--Believe me, Yours ever,
B--
* * * * *
187.--To John Murray.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 16, 1811.
DEAR SIR,--I return the proof, which I should wish to be shown to Mr.
Dallas, who understands typographical arrangements much better than I
can pretend to do. The printer may place the notes in his _own way_, or
any _way_, so that they are out of _my way_; I care nothing about types
or margins.
If you have any communication to make, I shall be here at least a week
or ten days longer. I am, Sir, etc., etc.,
BYRON.
* * * * *
188--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 16, 1811.
DEAR SIR,--I send you a 'motto':
"L'univers est une espece de livre, dont on n'a lu que la premiere
page quand on n'a vu que son pays. J'en ai feuillete un assez grand
nombre, que j'ai trouve egalement mauvaises. Cet examen ne m'a point
ete infructueux. Je haissais ma patrie. Toutes les impertinences des
peuples divers, parmi lesquels j'ai vecu, m'ont reconcilie avec elle.
Quand je n'aurais tire d'autre benefice de mes voyages que celui-la,
je n'en regretterais ni les frais, ni les fatigues."
"Le Cosmopolite." [1]
If not too long, I think it will suit the book. The passage is from a
little French volume, a great favourite with me, which I picked up in
the Archipelago. I don't think it is well known in England; Monbron is
the author; but it is a work sixty years old.
Good morning! I won't take up your time.
Yours ever,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Fougeret de Monbron, born at Peronne, served in the 'Gardes
du Corps', but abandoned the sword for the pen, and published 'Henriade
Travestie' (1745); 'Preservatif Centre l'Anglomanie' (1787); and 'Le
Cosmopolite' (1750). His novels, 'Margot la Ravaudeuse, Therlse
Philosophe', and others, appeared under the name of Fougeret. He died in
1761. In that year was published in London an edition of 'Le
Cosmopolite, ou le Citoyen du Monde', par Mr. de Monbron, with the
motto, "Patria est ubicunque est bene" (Cic. 5, Tusc. 37).
Byron's quotation is the opening paragraph of the book. The author, who
had travelled in England, returns to France a complete "Jacques
Rot-de-Bif." He then visits Holland, the Low Countries, Constantinople,
Italy, Spain, Portugal, and England a second time. He finds that the
charm has vanished, and that the English are no better than their
neighbours. It is a cynical little book, abounding in such sayings as.
"Make acquaintances, not friends; intimacy breeds disgust;" "The best
fruit of travelling is the justification of instinctive dislikes."
Monbron, like Byron, ridicules the traveller's passion for collecting
broken statues and antiques.]
* * * * *
189.--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 17, 1811.
I can easily excuse your not writing, as you have, I hope, something
better to do, and you must pardon my frequent invasions on your
attention, because I have at this moment nothing to interpose between
you and my epistles.
I cannot settle to any thing, and my days pass, with the exception of
bodily exercise to some extent, with uniform indolence, and idle
insipidity. I have been expecting, and still expect, my agent, when I
shall have enough to occupy my reflections in business of no very
pleasant aspect. Before my journey to Rochdale, you shall have due
notice where to address me--I believe at the post-office of that
township. From Murray I received a second proof of the same pages, which
I requested him to show you, that any thing which may have escaped my
observation may be detected before the printer lays the corner-stone of
an _errata_ column.
I am now not quite alone, having an old acquaintance and school-fellow
[1] with me, so _old_, indeed, that we have nothing _new_ to say on any
subject, and yawn at each other in a sort of _quiet inquietude_. I hear
nothing from Cawthorn, or Captain Hobhouse; and _their quarto_--Lord
have mercy on mankind! We come on like Cerberus with our triple
publications. [2] As for _myself_, by _myself_, I must be satisfied with
a comparison to _Janus_.
I am not at all pleased with Murray for showing the MS.; and I am
certain Gifford must see it in the same light that I do. His praise is
nothing to the purpose: what could he say? He could not spit in the face
of one who had praised him in every possible way. I must own that I wish
to have the impression removed from his mind, that I had any concern in
such a paltry transaction. The more I think, the more it disquiets me;
so I will say no more about it. It is bad enough to be a scribbler,
without having recourse to such shifts to extort praise, or deprecate
censure. It is anticipating, it is begging, kneeling, adulating,--the
devil! the devil! the devil! and all without my wish, and contrary to my
express desire. I wish Murray had been tied to _Payne's_ neck when he
jumped into the Paddington Canal, [3] and so tell him,--_that_ is the
proper receptacle for publishers. You have thought of settling in the
country, why not try Notts.? I think there are places which would suit
you in all points, and then you are nearer the metropolis. But of this
anon.
I am, yours, etc.,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: John Claridge. (See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 267, 'note' 2.)
[Footnote 4 of Letter 136]]
[Footnote 2: i. e. 'Childe Harold', 'Hints from Horace', and 'Travels in
Albania.']
[Footnote 3: Mr. Payne, of the firm of Payne and Mackinlay, the
publishers of Hodgson's 'Juvenal', committed suicide by drowning himself
in the Paddington Canal. Byron, in a note to 'Hints from Horace', line
657, thus applies the incident:
"A literary friend of mine, walking out one lovely evening last
summer, on the eleventh bridge of the Paddington canal, was alarmed by
the cry of 'one in jeopardy:' he rushed along, collected a body of
Irish haymakers (supping on buttermilk in an adjacent paddock),
procured three rakes, one eel spear and a landing-net, and at last
('horresco referens') pulled out--his own publisher. The unfortunate
man was gone for ever, and so was a large quarto wherewith he had
taken the leap, which proved, on inquiry, to have been Mr. Southey's
last work. Its 'alacrity of sinking' was so great, that it has never
since been heard of; though some maintain that it is at this moment
concealed at Alderman Birch's pastry-premises, Cornhill. Be this as it
may, the coroner's inquest brought in a verdict of ''Felo de
Bibliopola'' against a quarto unknown,' and circumstantial evidence
being since strong against the 'Curse of Kehama' (of which the above
words are an exact description), it will be tried by its peers next
session, in Grub Street--Arthur, Alfred, Davideis, Richard Coeur de
Lion, Exodus, Exodiad, Epigoniad, Calvary, Fall of Cambria, Siege of
Acre, Don Roderick, and Tom Thumb the Great, are the names of the
twelve jurors. The judges are Pye, Bowles, and the bell-man of St.
Sepulchre's."
* * * * *
190.--To R.C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 17, 1811.
Dear Sir,--I have just discovered some pages of observations on the
modern Greeks, written at Athens by me, under the title of 'Noctes
Atticae'. They will do to _cut up_ into notes, and to be _cut up_
afterwards, which is all that notes are generally good for. They were
written at Athens, as you will see by the date.
Yours ever,
B.
* * * * *
191.--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept, 21, 1811.
I have shown my respect for your suggestions by adopting them; but I
have made many alterations in the first proof, over and above; as, for
example:
Oh Thou, in _Hellas_ deem'd of heavenly birth,
etc., etc.
Since _shamed full oft_ by _later lyres_ on earth,
Mine, etc.
Yet there _I've wandered_ by the vaunted rill;
and so on. So I have got rid of Dr. Lowth and "drunk" to boot, and very
glad I am to say so. I have also sullenised the line as heretofore, and
in short have been quite conformable.
Pray write; you shall hear when I remove to Lancashire. I have brought
you and my friend Juvenal Hodgson upon my back, on the score of
revelation. You are fervent, but he is quite _glowing_; and if he take
half the pains to save his own soul, which he volunteers to redeem mine,
great will be his reward hereafter. I honour and thank you both, but am
convinced by neither. Now for notes. Besides those I have sent, I shall
send the observations on the Edinburgh Reviewer's remarks on the modern
Greek, an Albanian song in the Albanian (_not Greek_) language,
specimens of modern Greek from their New Testament, a comedy of
Goldoni's translated, _one scene_, a prospectus of a friend's book, and
perhaps a song or two, _all_ in Romaic, besides their Pater Noster; so
there will be enough, if not too much, with what I have already sent.
Have you received the "Noctes Atticae"?
I sent also an annotation on Portugal. Hobhouse is also forthcoming. [1]
[Footnote 1: That is, with his 'Travels in Albania', in part of which
Byron and his Greek servant, Demetrius, were assisting him with notes
and other material.]
* * * * *
192.--TO R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 23, 1811.
_Lisboa_ [1] is the Portuguese word, consequently the very best.
Ulissipont is pedantic; and as I have _Hellas_ and _Eros_ not long
before, there would be something like an affectation of Greek terms,
which I wish to avoid, since I shall have a perilous quantity of
_modern_ Greek in my notes, as specimens of the tongue; therefore Lisboa
may keep its place. You are right about the _Hints_; they must not
precede the _Romaunt_; but Cawthorn will be savage if they don't;
however, keep _them_ back, and _him_ in _good humour_, if we can, but do
not let him publish.
I have adopted, I believe, most of your suggestions, but "Lisboa" will
be an exception to prove the rule. I have sent a quantity of notes, and
shall continue; but pray let them be copied; no devil can read my hand.
By the by, I do not mean to exchange the ninth verse of the "Good
Night." [2] I have no reason to suppose my dog better than his brother
brutes, mankind; and _Argus_ we know to be a fable. The _Cosmopolite_
was an acquisition abroad. I do not believe it is to be found in
England. It is an amusing little volume, and full of French flippancy. I
read, though I do not speak the language.
I _will_ be angry with Murray. It was a bookselling, back-shop,
Paternoster-row, paltry proceeding; and if the experiment had turned out
as it deserved, I would have raised all Fleet Street, and borrowed the
giant's staff from St. Dunstan's church, [3] to immolate the betrayer of
trust. I have written to him as he never was written to before by an
author, I'll be sworn, and I hope you will amplify my wrath, till it has
an effect upon him. You tell me always you have much to write about.
Write it, but let us drop metaphysics;--on that point we shall never
agree. I am dull and drowsy, as usual. I do nothing, and even that
nothing fatigues me.
Adieu.
[Footnote 1: See 'Childe Harold', Canto I. stanza xvi., and Byron's
'note'.]
[Footnote 2: See 'Childe Harold', Canto I. The "Good Night" is placed
between stanzas xiii. and xiv.
"And now I'm in the world alone,
Upon the wide, wide sea;
But why should I for others groan,
When none will sigh for me?
Perchance my dog will whine in vain,
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long ere I come back again
He'd tear me where he stands."]
[Footnote 3: St. Dunstan's in the West, before its rebuilding by Shaw
(1831-33), was one of the oldest churches in London. The clock, which
projected over the street, and had two wooden figures of wild men who
struck the hours with their clubs, was set up in 1671. Unless there was
a similar clock before this date, as is not improbable, Scott is wrong
in 'The Fortunes of Nigel', where he makes Moniplies stand "astonished
as old Adam and Eve ply their ding-dong." The figures, the removal of
which, it is said, brought tears to the eyes of Charles Lamb, were
bought by the Marquis of Hertford to adorn his villa in Regent's Park,
still called St. Dunstan's. Murray's shop at 32, Fleet Street, stood
opposite the church, the yard of which was surrounded with stationers'
shops, where many famous books of the seventeenth century were
published.]
* * * * *
193.--To Francis Hodgson.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 25, 1811.
MY DEAR HODGSON,--I fear that before the latest of October or the first
of November, I shall hardly be able to make Cambridge. My everlasting
agent puts off his coming like the accomplishment of a prophecy.
However, finding me growing serious he hath promised to be here on
Thursday, and about Monday we shall remove to Rochdale. I have only to
give discharges to the tenantry here (it seems the poor creatures must
be raised, though I wish it was not necessary), and arrange the receipt
of sums, and the liquidation of some debts, and I shall be ready to
enter upon new subjects of vexation. I intend to visit you in Granta,
and hope to prevail on you to accompany me here or there or anywhere.
I am plucking up my spirits, and have begun to gather my little sensual
comforts together. Lucy is extracted from Warwickshire; some very bad
faces have been warned off the premises, and more promising substituted
in their stead; the partridges are plentiful, hares fairish, pheasants
not quite so good, and the Girls on the Manor * * * * Just as I had
formed a tolerable establishment my travels commenced, and on my return
I find all to do over again; my former flock were all scattered; some
married, not before it was needful. As I am a great disciplinarian, I
have just issued an edict for the abolition of caps; no hair to be cut
on any pretext; stays permitted, but not too low before; full uniform
always in the evening; Lucinda to be commander--'vice' the present,
about to be wedded ('mem'. she is 35 with a flat face and a squeaking
voice), of all the makers and unmakers of beds in the household.
My tortoises (all Athenians), my hedgehog, my mastiff and the other live
Greek, are all purely. The tortoises lay eggs, and I have hired a hen to
hatch them. I am writing notes for 'my' quarto (Murray would have it a
'quarto'), and Hobhouse is writing text for 'his' quarto; if you call on
Murray or Cawthorn you will hear news of either. I have attacked De
Pauw, [1] Thornton, [1] Lord Elgin, [2] Spain, Portugal, the 'Edinburgh
Review', [3] travellers, Painters, Antiquarians, and others, so you see
what a dish of Sour Crout Controversy I shall prepare for myself. It
would not answer for me to give way, now; as I was forced into
bitterness at the beginning, I will go through to the last. 'Vae Victis'!
If I fall, I shall fall gloriously, fighting against a host.
'Felicissima Notte a Voss. Signoria,'
B.
[Footnote 1: 'Childe Harold', Canto II. note D, part ii.]
[Footnote 2: 'Ibid'., note A.]
[Footnote 3: 'Ibid'., note D, part iii.]
* * * * *
194.--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Sept. 26, 1811.
MY DEAR SIR,-In a stanza towards the end of canto 1st, there is in the
concluding line,
Some bitter bubbles up, and e'en on roses stings.
I have altered it as follows:
Full from the heart of joy's delicious springs
Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
If you will point out the stanzas on Cintra [1] which you wish recast, I
will send you mine answer. Be good enough to address your letters here,
and they will either be forwarded or saved till my return. My agent
comes tomorrow, and we shall set out immediately.
The press must not proceed of course without my seeing the proofs, as I
have much to do. Pray, do you think any alterations should be made in
the stanzas on Vathek? [2]
I should be sorry to make any improper allusion, as I merely wish to
adduce an example of wasted wealth, and the reflection which arose in
surveying the most desolate mansion in the most beautiful spot I ever
beheld.
Pray keep Cawthorn back; he was not to begin till November, and even
that will be two months too soon. I am so sorry my hand is
unintelligible; but I can neither deny your accusation, nor remove the
cause of it.--It is a sad scrawl, certes.--A perilous quantity of
annotation hath been sent; I think almost _enough_, with the specimens
of Romaic I mean to annex.
I will have nothing to say to your metaphysics, and allegories of rocks
and beaches; we shall all go to the bottom together, so "let us eat and
drink, for tomorrow, etc." I am as comfortable in my creed as others,
inasmuch as it is better to sleep than to be awake.
I have heard nothing of Murray; I hope he is ashamed of himself. He sent
me a vastly complimentary epistle, with a request to alter the two, and
finish another canto. I sent him as civil an answer as if I had been
engaged to translate by the sheet, declining altering anything in
sentiment, but offered to tag rhymes, and mend them as long as he liked.
I will write from Rochdale when I arrive, if my affairs allow me; but I
shall be so busy and savage all the time with the whole set, that my
letters will, perhaps, be as pettish as myself. If so, lay the blame on
coal and coal-heavers. Very probably I may proceed to town by way of
Newstead on my return from Lancs. I mean to be at Cambridge in November,
so that, at all events, we shall be nearer. I will not apologise for the
trouble I have given and do give you, though I ought to do so; but I
have worn out my politest periods, and can only say that I am much
obliged to you.
Believe me, yours always,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: 'Childe Harold', Canto I. stanza xviii.]
[Footnote 2: 'i.e.' on Bedford (see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 228, 'note' 1
[Footnote 2 of Letter 125]; and 'Childe Harold', Canto I, stanza
xxii.).]
* * * * *
195.-To James Wedderburn Webster.
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 10th, 1811.
DEAR WEBSTER,--I can hardly invite a gentleman to my house a second time
who walked out of it the first in so singular a mood, but if you had
thought proper to pay me a visit, you would have had a "Highland
Welcome."
I am only just returned to it out of Lancashire, where I have been on
business to a Coal manor of mine near Rochdale, and shall leave it very
shortly for Cambridge and London. My companions, or rather companion,
(for Claridge alone has been with me) have not been very amusing, and,
as to their "_Sincerity_," they are doubtless sincere enough for a man
who will never put them to the trial. Besides you talked so much of your
conjugal happiness, that an invitation from home would have seemed like
Sacrilege, and my rough Bachelor's Hall would have appeared to little
advantage after the "Bower of Armida" [1] where you have been reposing.
I cannot boast of my social powers at any time, and just at present they
are more stagnant than ever. Your Brother-in-law [2] means to stand for
Wexford, but I have reasons for thinking the Portsmouth interest will be
against him; however I wish him success. Do _you_ mean to stand for any
place next election? What are your politics? I hope Valentia's Lord is
for the Catholics. You will find Hobhouse at Enniscorthy in the
contested County.
Pray what has seized you? your last letter is the only one in which you
do not rave upon matrimony. Are there no symptoms of a young W.W.? and
shall I never be a Godfather? I believe I must be married myself soon,
but it shall be a secret and a Surprise. However, knowing your exceeding
discretion I shall probably entrust the secret to your silence at a
proper period. You have, it is true, invited me repeatedly to Dean's
Court [3] and now, when it is probable I might adventure there, you wish
to be off. Be it so.
If you address your letters to this place they will be forwarded
wherever I sojourn. I am about to meet some friends at Cambridge and on
to town in November.
The papers are full of Dalrymple's Bigamy [4] (I know the man). What the
Devil will he do with his _Spare-rib_? He is no beauty, but as lame as
myself. He has more ladies than legs, what comfort to a cripple! _Sto
sempre umilissimo servitore_.
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Armida is the Sorceress, the niece of Prince Idreotes, in
Tasso's 'Jerusalem Delivered', in whose palace Rinaldo forgets his vow
as a crusader. Byron, in 'Don Juan' (Canto I. stanza lxxi.), says:
"But ne'er magician's wand
Wrought change, with all Armida's fairy art,
Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart."
In the Catalogue of Byron's books, sold April 5, 1816, appear four
editions of Tasso's 'Gerusalemme Liberata', being those of 1776, 1785,
1813, and one undated.]
[Footnote 2: For George Annesley, Lord Valentia, afterwards Earl of
Mountnorris (1769-1844), see 'Poems', ed. 1898, vol. i. p. 378, and
'note 5'.]
[Footnote 3: Near Wimborne, Dorset.]
[Footnote 4: The suit of 'Dalrymple' v. 'Dalrymple' was tried before Sir
William Scott, in the Consistory Court, Doctors' Commons, July 16, 1811.
The suit was brought by Mrs. Dalrymple ('nee' Joanna Gordon) against
Captain John William Henry Dalrymple. By Scottish law he was held to
have been married to Miss Gordon, and his subsequent marriage with Miss
Manners, sister of the Duchess of St. Albans, was held to be illegal.]
* * * * *
196.--To R.C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, October 10th, 1811.
DEAR SIR,--Stanzas 24, 26, 29, [1] though _crossed_ must _stand_, with
their _alterations_. The other three [2] are cut out to meet your
wishes. We must, however, have a repetition of the proof, which is the
first. I will write soon.
Yours ever,
B.
P.S.--Yesterday I returned from Lancs.
[Footnote 1: The stanzas are xxiv., xxv., xxvi. of Canto I.]
[Footnote 2: The following are the three deleted stanzas:
XXV.
"In golden characters, right well designed,
First on the list appeareth one 'Junot;'
Then certain other glorious names we find;
(Which rhyme compelleth me to place below--)
Dull victors! baffled by a vanquished foe,
Wheedled by conynge tongues of laurels due,
Stand, worthy of each other, in a row
Sirs Arthur, Harry, and the dizzard Hew
Dalrymple, seely wight, sore dupe of 'tother tew."
XXVII.
"But when Convention sent his handy work,
Pens, tongues, feet, hands, combined in wild uproar;
Mayor, Alderman, laid down th' uplifted fork;
The bench of Bishops half forgot to snore;
Stern Cobbett, who for one whole week forbore
To question aught, once more with transport leapt,
And bit his dev'lish quill agen, and swore
With foe such treaty never should be kept.
Then burst the blatant beast, and roared and raged and--slept!!!"
XXVIII.
"Thus unto heaven appealed the people; heaven,
Which loves the lieges of our gracious King,
Decreed that ere our generals were forgiven,
Inquiry should be held about the thing.
But mercy cloaked the babes beneath her wing;
And as they spared our foes so spared we them.
(Where was the pity of our sires for Byng?)
Yet knaves, not idiots, should the law condemn.
Then live ye, triumph gallants! and bless your judges' phlegm."]
* * * * *
197.--To R.C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 11, 1811.
I have returned from Lancashire, and ascertained that my property there
may be made very valuable, but various circumstances very much
circumscribe my exertions at present. I shall be in town on business in
the beginning of November, and perhaps at Cambridge before the end of
this month; but of my movements you shall be regularly apprised. Your
objections I have in part done away by alterations, which I hope will
suffice; and I have sent two or three additional stanzas for both
_"Fyttes."_ I have been again shocked with a _death_, and have lost one
very dear to me in happier times [1]; but "I have almost forgot the
taste of grief," and "supped full of horrors" [2] till I have become
callous, nor have I a tear left for an event which, five years ago,
would have bowed down my head to the earth. It seems as though I were to
experience in my youth the greatest misery of age. My friends fall
around me, and I shall be left a lonely tree before I am withered. Other
men can always take refuge in their families; I have no resource but my
own reflections, and they present no prospect here or hereafter, except
the selfish satisfaction of surviving my betters. I am indeed very
wretched, and you will excuse my saying so, as you know I am not apt to
cant of sensibility.
Instead of tiring yourself with _my_ concerns, I should be glad to hear
_your_ plans of retirement. I suppose you would not like to be wholly
shut out of society? Now I know a large village, or small town, about
twelve miles off, where your family would have the advantage of very
genteel society, without the hazard of being annoyed by mercantile
affluence; where _you_ would meet with men of information and
independence; and where I have friends to whom I should be proud to
introduce you. There are, besides, a coffee-room, assemblies, etc.,
etc., which bring people together. My mother had a house there some
years, and I am well acquainted with the economy of Southwell, the name
of this little commonwealth. Lastly, you will not be very remote from
me; and though I am the very worst companion for young people in the
world, this objection would not apply to _you_, whom I could see
frequently. Your expenses, too, would be such as best suit your
inclinations, more or less, as you thought proper; but very little would
be requisite to enable you to enter into all the gaieties of a country
life. You could be as quiet or bustling as you liked, and certainly as
well situated as on the lakes of Cumberland, unless you have a
particular wish to be _picturesque_.
Pray, is your Ionian friend in town? You have promised me an
introduction. You mention having consulted some friend on the MSS. Is
not this contrary to our usual way? Instruct Mr. Murray not to allow his
shopman to call the work _Child of Harrow's Pilgrimage_!!!!! [3] as he
has done to some of my astonished friends, who wrote to inquire after my
_sanity_ on the occasion, as well they might. I have heard nothing of
Murray, whom I scolded heartily. Must I write more notes? Are there not
enough? Cawthorn must be kept back with the _Hints_. I hope he is
getting on with Hobhouse's quarto. Good evening.
Yours ever, etc.
[Footnote 1: The reference is to Edleston (see 'Letters', vol. i. p.
130, note 3 [Footnote 2 of Letter 74]), of whose death Miss Edleston had
recently sent Byron an account.]
[Footnote 2:
"I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
...
I have supp'd full with horrors."
'Macbeth', act v. sc. 5.]
[Footnote 3: Francis Hodgson, writing to Byron, October 8, 1811, says,
"Murray's shopman, taught, I presume, by himself, calls 'Psyche'
'Pishy,' 'The Four Slaves of Cythera' 'The Four do. of Cythera,' and
'Childe Harold's Pilgrimage' 'Child of Harrow's Pilgrimage.' This
misnomering Vendor of Books must have been misbegotten in some
portentous union of the Malaprops and the Slipslops."]
* * * * *
198.--To Francis Hodgson.
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 13, 1811.
You will begin to deem me a most liberal correspondent; but as my
letters are free, you will overlook their frequency. I have sent you
answers in prose and verse to all your late communications; and though I
am invading your ease again, I don't know why, or what to put down that
you are not acquainted with already. I am growing _nervous_ (how you
will laugh!)--but it is true,--really, wretchedly, ridiculously,
fine-ladically _nervous_. Your climate kills me; I can neither read,
write, nor amuse myself, or any one else. My days are listless, and my
nights restless; I have very seldom any society, and when I have, I run
out of it. At "this present writing," there are in the next room three
_ladies_, and I have stolen away to write this grumbling letter.--I
don't know that I sha'n't end with insanity, for I find a want of method
in arranging my thoughts that perplexes me strangely; but this looks
more like silliness than madness, as Scrope Davies would facetiously
remark in his consoling manner. I must try the hartshorn of your
company; and a session of Parliament would suit me well,--any thing to
cure me of conjugating the accursed verb "_ennuyer_."
When shall you be at Cambridge? You have hinted, I think, that your
friend Bland [1] is returned from Holland. I have always had a great
respect for his talents, and for all that I have heard of his character;
but of me, I believe he knows nothing, except that he heard my sixth
form repetitions ten months together at the average of two lines a
morning, and those never perfect. I remembered him and his _Slaves_ as I
passed between Capes Matapan, St. Angelo, and his Isle of Ceriga, and I
always bewailed the absence of the _Anthology_. I suppose he will now
translate Vondel, the Dutch Shakspeare, and _Gysbert van Amsteli_ [2]
will easily be accommodated to our stage in its present state; and I
presume he saw the Dutch poem, where the love of Pyramus and Thisbe is
compared to the passion of Christ; also the love of Lucifer for Eve, and
other varieties of Low Country literature.
No doubt you will think me crazed to talk of such things, but they are
all in black and white and good repute on the banks of every canal from
Amsterdam to Alkmaar.
Yours ever,
B.
My poesy is in the hands of its various publishers; but the _Hints from
Horace_ (to which I have subjoined some savage lines on Methodism, [3]
and ferocious notes on the vanity of the triple Editory of the _Edin.
Annual Register_ [4]), my _Hints_, I say, stand still, and why?--I have
not a friend in the world (but you and Drury) who can construe Horace's
Latin or my English well enough to adjust them for the press, or to
correct the proofs in a grammatical way. So that, unless you have bowels
when you return to town (I am too far off to do it for myself), this
ineffable work will be lost to the world for--I don't know how many
_weeks_.
_Childe Harold's Pilgrimage_ must wait till _Murray's_ is finished. He
is making a tour in Middlesex, and is to return soon, when high matter
may be expected. He wants to have it in quarto, which is a cursed
unsaleable size; but it is pestilent long, and one must obey one's
bookseller. I trust Murray will pass the Paddington Canal without being
seduced by Payne and Mackinlay's example,--I say Payne and Mackinlay,
supposing that the partnership held good. Drury, the villain, has not
written to me; "I am never (as Mrs. Lumpkin [5] says to Tony) to be
gratified with the monster's dear wild notes."
So you are going (going indeed!) into orders. You must make your peace
with the Eclectic Reviewers--they accuse you of impiety, I fear, with
injustice. Demetrius, the "Sieger of Cities," is here, with "Gilpin
Horner." [6]
The painter [7] is not necessary, as the portraits he already painted
are (by anticipation) very like the new animals.--Write, and send me
your "Love Song"--but I want _paulo majora_ from you. Make a dash before
you are a deacon, and try a _dry_ publisher.
Yours always,
B.
[Footnote 1: For Robert Bland, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 271, 'note' 1
[Footnote 2 of Letter 137]. In his 'Four Slaves of Cythera' (1809),
Canto I., occur the following lines:
"Now full in sight the Paphian gardens smile,
And thence by many a green and summer isle,
Whose ancient walls and temples seem to sleep,
Enshadowed on the mirror of the deep,
They coast along Cythera's happy ground,
Gem of the sea, for love's delight renown'd."]
[Footnote 2: Bland had been acting as English Chaplain in Holland. Joost
Van Vondel (1587-1679), born at Cologne of Anabaptist parents, became a
Roman Catholic in 1641. Most of his thirty-two tragedies are on
classical or religious subjects, and in the latter may be traced his
gradual change of faith. 'Gysbrecht van Amstel'(1637) is a play, the
action of which takes place on Christmas Day in the thirteenth century.
The scene is laid at Amsterdam, which is captured by a ruse like that of
the Greeks at Troy. The play appealed strongly to the patriotic
instincts of the Dutch by its prophecy of the future greatness of
Amsterdam. Vondel's 'Lucifer' (1654) has been often compared to
'Paradise Lost'. It also bears some affinities to 'Cain'. In it the
Archangel Lucifer rebels against God on learning the Divine intention to
take on Himself the nature, not of Angels, but of Man.]
[Footnote 3: 'Hints from Horace', lines 371-382.]
[Footnote 4: 'The Edinburgh Annual Register' (1808-26) was published by
John Ballantyne and Co. The prospectus promised a general history of
Europe; a collection of State papers; a chronicle of events; original
essays on morality, literature, and science; and articles on biography,
the useful arts, and meteorology. The Editor was Scott, and Southey was
responsible for the historical department. The first two parts, giving
the history of 1808, did not appear till July, 1810, and then with an
editorial apology for the omission of the articles on biography, the
useful arts, and meteorology; also with an explanation that the idea of
original essays on morality, literature, and science had been abandoned.
The venture, thus unfortunately launched, never succeeded. For Byron's
attack, see 'Hints from Horace', line 657, and his 'note'.]
[Footnote 5: This is an obvious slip for "Mrs. Hardcastle," who, in 'She
Stoops to Conquer' (act ii.), says,
"I'm never to be delighted with your agreeable wild notes, unfeeling
monster!"]
[Footnote 6: Probably Demetrius, his Greek servant, whom he nicknames
after Demetrius Poliorcetes, and Claridge, who had bored Byron during a
long stay of three weeks.]
[Footnote 7: Barber, whom he had brought down to Newstead to paint his
wolf and his bear.]
* * * * *
199.--To R. C. Dallas.
Oct. 14, 1811.
DEAR SIR,--Stanza 9th, for Canto 2nd, somewhat altered, to avoid
recurrence in a former stanza.
STANZA 9.
There, thou! whose love and life together fled,
Have left me here to love and live in vain:--
Twined with my heart, and can I deem thee dead,
When busy Memory flashes o'er my brain?
Well--I will dream that we may meet again,
And woo the vision to my vacant breast;
If aught of young Remembrance then remain,
Be as it may
Whate'er beside Futurity's behest;
or,--
Howe'er may be
For me 'twere bliss enough to see thy spirit blest!
I think it proper to state to you, that this stanza alludes to an event
which has taken place since my arrival here, and not to the death of any
_male_ friend.
Yours,
B.
* * * * *
200.--To R. C. Dallas.
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 16, 1811.
I am on the wing for Cambridge. Thence, after a short stay, to London.
Will you be good enough to keep an account of all the MSS. you receive,
for fear of omission? Have you adopted the three altered stanzas of the
latest proof? I can do nothing more with them. I am glad you like the
new ones. Of the last, and of the _two_, I sent for a new edition,
to-day a _fresh note_. The lines of the second sheet I fear must stand;
I will give you reasons when we meet.
Believe me, yours ever,
BYRON.
* * * * *
201.--To R. C. Dallas.
Cambridge, Oct. 25, 1811.
DEAR SIR,--I send you a conclusion to the _whole_. In a stanza towards
the end of Canto I. in the line,
Oh, known the earliest and _beloved_ the most,
I shall alter the epithet to "_esteemed_ the most." The present stanzas
are for the end of Canto II. For the beginning of the week I shall be at
No. 8, my old lodgings, in St. James' Street, where I hope to have the
pleasure of seeing you.
Yours ever,
B.
* * * * *
202.--To Thomas Moore. [1]
Cambridge, October 27, 1811.
SIR,--Your letter followed me from Notts, to this place, which will
account for the delay of my reply.
Your former letter I never had the honour to receive;--be assured in
whatever part of the world it had found me, I should have deemed it my
duty to return and answer it in person.
The advertisement you mention, I know nothing of.--At the time of your
meeting with Mr. Jeffrey, I had recently entered College, and remember
to have heard and read a number of squibs on the occasion; and from the
recollection of these I derived all my knowledge on the subject, without
the slightest idea of "giving the lie" to an address which I never
beheld. When I put my name to the production, which has occasioned this
correspondence, I became responsible to all whom it might concern,--to
explain where it requires explanation, and, where insufficiently or too
sufficiently explicit, at all events to satisfy. My situation leaves me
no choice; it rests with the injured and the angry to obtain reparation
in their own way.
With regard to the passage in question, _you_ were certainly _not_ the
person towards whom I felt personally hostile. On the contrary, my whole
thoughts were engrossed by one, whom I had reason to consider as my
worst literary enemy, nor could I foresee that his former antagonist was
about to become his champion. You do not specify what you would wish to
have done: I can neither retract nor apologise for a charge of falsehood
which I never advanced.
In the beginning of the week, I shall be at No. 8, St. James's
Street.--Neither the letter nor the friend to whom you stated your
intention ever made their appearance.
Your friend, Mr. Rogers, [2] or any other gentleman delegated by you,
will find me most ready to adopt any conciliatory proposition which
shall not compromise my own honour,--or, failing in that, to make the
atonement you deem it necessary to require.
I have the honour to be, Sir,
Your most obedient, humble servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Thomas Moore (1779-1852), by his literary and social gifts,
had made his name several years before 1811, when he first became
personally acquainted with Byron. His precocity was as remarkable as his
versatility. The son of a Dublin grocer, for whom his political interest
secured the post of barrack-master, he went, like Sheridan, to Samuel
Whyte's school, and was afterwards at Trinity College, Dublin. Before he
was fifteen he had written verses, including lines to Whyte, himself a
poet, the publication of which, in the 'Anthologia Hibernica' (October,
1793; February, March, and June, 1794), gained him a local reputation.
Coming to London in 1799, he read law at the Middle Temple. His 'Odes'
translated from Anacreon (1800), dedicated to the Prince of Wales,
opened to him the houses of the Whig aristocracy; and his powers as a
singer, an actor, a talker, and, later, as a satirist, made him a
favourite in society. In 1801 appeared his 'Poems: by the late Thomas
Little', amatory verses which Byron read, and imitated in some of the
silliest of his youthful lines.
The review of Moore's 'Odes, Epistles, and Other Poems' (1806), which
appeared in the 'Edinburgh Review' for July, 1806, provoked Moore to
challenge Jeffrey. Their duel with "leadless pistols" led, not only to
Moore's friendship with Jeffrey, but, indirectly, as is seen from the
following letters, to Moore's acquaintance with Byron. Moore himself
contributed to the 'Edinburgh', between the years 1814 and 1834, essays
on multifarious subjects, from poetry to German Rationalism, from the
Fathers to French official life. In 1807 the first of the 'Irish
Melodies' was published; they continued to appear at irregular intervals
till 1834, when 122 had been printed. A master of the art of
versification, Moore sings, with graceful fancy, in a tone of mingled
mirth and melancholy, his love of his country, of the wine of other
countries, and the women of all countries. But, except in his
patriotism, he shows little depth of feeling. The 'Melodies' are the
work of a brilliantly clever man, endowed with an exquisite musical ear,
and a temperament that is rather susceptible than intense. With them may
be classed his 'National Airs' (1815) and 'Sacred Song' (1816).
Moore had already found one field in which he excelled; it was not long
before he discovered another. His serious satires, 'Corruption' (1808),
'Intolerance' (1808), and 'The Sceptic' (1809), failed. His nature was
neither deep enough nor strong enough for success in such themes. In the
ephemeral strife of party politics he found his real province. Nothing
can be better of their kind than the metrical lampoons collected in
'Intercepted Letters, or the Twopenny Post-bag, by Thomas Brown the
Younger' (1813). In his hands the bow and arrows of Cupid become
formidable weapons of party warfare; nor do their ornaments impede the
movements of the archer. The shaft is gaily winged and brightly
polished; the barb sharp and dipped in venom; and the missile hums music
as it flies to its mark. Moore's satire is the satire of the Clubs at
its best; but it is scarcely the satire of literature. 'The Twopenny
Post-bag' was the parent of many similar productions, beginning with
'The Fudge Family in Paris' (1818), and ending with 'Fables for the Holy
Alliance' (1823), which he dedicated to Byron.
As a serious poet, and the author of 'Lalla Rookh' (1817), 'The Loves of
the Angels' (1823), and 'Alciphron' (1839), Moore was perhaps overrated
by his contemporaries. In spite of their brightness of fancy, metrical
skill, and brilliant cleverness, they lack the greater elements of the
highest poetry.
Moore's prose work begins, apart from his contributions to periodical
literature, with the 'Memoirs of Captain Rock' (1824), 'The Epicurean'
(1827), 'The Travels of an Irish Gentleman in Search of a Religion'
(1834), 'The History of Ireland' (1846); and a succession of
biographies--the life of 'Sheridan' (1825), of 'Byron' (1830), and 'Lord
Edward Fitzgerald' (1831)--complete the list. In the midst of his
biographical work, Moore was advised by Lord Lansdowne to write nine
lives at once, and print them together under the title of 'The Cat'.
In 1811 Moore married Miss Elizabeth Dyke (born 1793), an actress who
fascinated him at the Kilkenny private theatricals in 1809. To the outer
world, Mrs. Moore's bird, as she called him, was a sprightly little
songster, who lived in a whirl of dinners, suppers, concerts, and
theatricals. These, as well as his private anxieties and misfortunes,
are recorded in the eight volumes of his 'Memoirs, Journals, and
Correspondence', which were edited by Lord John Russell, in 1853. Moore
was an excellent son, a good husband, an affectionate father, and to
Byron a loyal friend, neither envious nor subservient. Clare, Hobhouse,
and Moore were (Lady Blessington's 'Conversations', 2nd edition, 1850,
pp. 393, 394) the only persons whose friendship Byron never disclaimed.
He spoke of Moore ('ibid'., pp. 322, 323) as "a delightful companion,
gay without being boisterous, witty without effort, comic without
coarseness, and sentimental without being lachrymose. He reminds one of
the fairy who, whenever she spoke, let diamonds fall from her lips. My
'tete-a-tete' suppers with Moore are among the most agreeable
impressions I retain of the hours passed in London."
In July, 1806, in consequence of the article in the 'Edinburgh Review'
on his recent volume of 'Poems', Moore sent, through his friend Hume, a
challenge to Jeffrey, who was seconded by Francis Horner, and a meeting
was arranged. Moore, who had only once in his life discharged a firearm
of any kind, and then nearly blew his thumb off, borrowed a case of
pistols from William Spencer, and bought in Bond Street enough powder
and bullets for a score of duels. The parties met at Chalk Farm; the
seconds loaded the pistols, placed the men at their posts, and were
about to give the signal to fire, when the police officers, rushing upon
them from behind a hedge, knocked Jeffrey's weapon from his hand,
disarmed Moore, and conveyed the whole party to Bow Street. They were
released on bail; but, on Moore returning to claim the borrowed pistols,
the officer refused to give them up, because only Moore's pistol was
loaded with ball. Horner, however, gave evidence that he had seen both
pistols loaded; and there, but for the reports circulated in the
newspapers, the affair would have ended. But the joke was too good to be
allowed to drop, and, in spite of Moore's published letter, he was for
months a target for the wits ('Memoirs, Journals, and Correspondence',
vol. i. pp. 199-208).
In 'English Bards, etc.', lines 466, 467, and his 'note', Byron made
merry over "Little's leadless pistol," with the result that, when the
second edition oL the satire was published, with his name attached,
Moore sent him the following letter:--
"Dublin, January 1, 1810.
"My Lord,--Having just seen the name of 'Lord Byron' prefixed to a work
entitled 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers', in which, as it appears
to me, 'the lie is given' to a public statement of mine, respecting an
affair with Mr. Jeffrey some years since, I beg you will have the
goodness to inform me whether I may consider your Lordship as the author
of this publication.
"I shall not, I fear, be able to return to London for a week or two;
but, in the mean time, I trust your Lordship will not deny me the
satisfaction of knowing whether you avow the insult contained in the
passages alluded to.
"It is needless to suggest to your Lordship the propriety of keeping our
correspondence secret.
"I have the honour to be,
"Your Lordship's very humble servant,
"THOMAS MOORE.
"22, Molesworth Street."
Owing to Byron's absence abroad, the letter never reached him; it was,
in fact, kept back by Hodgson. On his return to England, Moore, who in
the interval had married, sent him a second letter, restating the nature
of the insult he had received in 'English Bards'.
"'It is now useless,' I continued ('Life', p. 143), 'to speak of the
steps with which it was my intention to follow up that letter. The time
which has elapsed since then, though it has done away neither the injury
nor the feeling of it, has, in many respects, materially altered my
situation; and the only object which I have now in writing to your
Lordship is to preserve some consistency with that former letter, and to
prove to you that the injured feeling still exists, however
circumstances may compel me to be deaf to its dictates, at present. When
I say "injured feeling," let me assure your Lordship that there is not a
single vindictive sentiment in my mind towards you. I mean but to
express that uneasiness, under (what I consider to be) a charge of
falsehood, which must haunt a man of any feeling to his grave, unless
the insult be retracted or atoned for; and which, if I did 'not' feel, I
should, indeed, deserve far worse than your Lordship's satire could
inflict upon me.' In conclusion I added, that so far from being
influenced by any angry or resentful feeling towards him, it would give
me sincere pleasure if, by any satisfactory explanation, he would enable
me to seek the honour of being henceforward ranked among his
acquaintance."
Byron's letter of October 27, 1811. was written in reply to this second
letter from Moore.]
[Footnote 2: For Samuel Rogers, see p. 67, note 1.]
* * * * *
203.--To R. C. Dallas.
8, St. James's Street, 29th October, 1811.
DEAR SIR,--I arrived in town last night, and shall be very glad to see
you when convenient.
Yours very truly,
BYRON.
204.--To Thomas Moore. [1]
8, St. James's Street, October 29, 1811.
SIR,--Soon after my return to England, my friend, Mr. Hodgson, apprised
me that a letter for me was in his possession; but a domestic event
hurrying me from London immediately after, the letter (which may most
probably be your own) is still _unopened in his keeping_. If, on
examination of the address, the similarity of the handwriting should
lead to such a conclusion, it shall be opened in your presence, for the
satisfaction of all parties. Mr. H. is at present out of town;--on
Friday I shall see him, and request him to forward it to my address.
With regard to the latter part of both your letters, until the principal
point was discussed between us, I felt myself at a loss in what manner
to reply. Was I to anticipate friendship from one, who conceived me to
have charged him with falsehood? Were not _advances_, under such
circumstances, to be misconstrued,--not, perhaps, by the person to whom
they were addressed, but by others? In _my_ case such a step was
impracticable. If you, who conceived yourself to be the offended person,
are satisfied that you had no cause for offence, it will not be
difficult to convince me of it. My situation, as I have before stated,
leaves me no choice. I should have felt proud of your acquaintance, had
it commenced under other circumstances; but it must rest with you to
determine how far it may proceed after so _auspicious_ a beginning.
I have the honour to be, etc.
[Footnote 1: Moore had replied, accepting Byron's explanation, and
adding,
"As your Lordship does not show any wish to proceed beyond the rigid
formulary of explanation, it is not for me to make any further
advances. We Irishmen, in businesses of this kind, seldom know any
medium between decided hostility and decided friendship; but, as any
approaches towards the latter alternative must now depend entirely on
your Lordship, I have only to repeat that I am satisfied with your
letter, and that I have the honour to be," etc., etc.]
* * * * *
205.--To Thomas Moore. [1]
8, St. James's Street, October 30, 1811.
SIR,--You must excuse my troubling you once more upon this very
unpleasant subject. It would be a satisfaction to me, and I should think
to yourself, that the unopened letter in Mr. Hodgson's possession
(supposing it to prove your own) should be returned _in statu quo_ to
the writer; particularly as you expressed yourself "not quite easy under
the manner in which I had dwelt on its miscarriage."
A few words more, and I shall not trouble you further. I felt, and still
feel, very much flattered by those parts of your correspondence, which
held out the prospect of our becoming acquainted. If I did not meet them
in the first instance as perhaps I ought, let the situation I was placed
in be my defence. You have _now_ declared yourself _satisfied_, and on
that point we are no longer at issue. If, therefore, you still retain
any wish to do me the honour you hinted at, I shall be most happy to
meet you, when, where, and how you please, and I presume you will not
attribute my saying thus much to any unworthy motive.
I have the honour to remain, etc.
[Footnote 1:
"Piqued," says Moore ('Life', 144), "at the manner in which my efforts
towards a more friendly understanding were received,"
he had briefly expressed his satisfaction at Byron's explanation, and
added that the correspondence might close.]
* * * * *
206.--To R. C. Dallas.
8, St. James's Street, October 31, 1811.
DEAR SIR,--I have already taken up so much of your time that there needs
no excuse on your part, but a great many on mine, for the present
interruption. I have altered the passages according to your wish. With
this note I send a few stanzas on a subject which has lately occupied
much of my thoughts. They refer to the death of one to whose name you
are a _stranger_, and, consequently, cannot be interested. I mean them
to complete the present volume. They relate to the same person whom I
have mentioned in Canto 2nd, and at the conclusion of the poem.
I by no means intend to identify myself with 'Harold', but to _deny_ all
connection with him. If in parts I may be thought to have drawn from
myself, believe me it is but in parts, and I shall not own even to that.
As to the _Monastic dome_, etc., [1] I thought those circumstances would
suit him as well as any other, and I could describe what I had seen
better than I could invent. I would not be such a fellow as I have made
my hero for all the world.
Yours ever,
B.
[Footnote 1: 'Childe Harold', Canto II. stanza xlviii.]
* * * * *
207.--To Thomas Moore.
8, St. James's Street, November 1, 1811.
Sir,--As I should be very sorry to interrupt your Sunday's engagement,
if Monday, or any other day of the ensuing week, would be equally
convenient to yourself and friend, I will then have the honour of
accepting his invitation. [1]
Of the professions of esteem with which Mr. Rogers [2] has honoured me,
I cannot but feel proud, though undeserving. I should be wanting to
myself, if insensible to the praise of such a man; and, should my
approaching interview with him and his friend lead to any degree of
intimacy with both or either, I shall regard our past correspondence as
one of the happiest events of my life. I have the honour to be,
Your very sincere and obedient servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Rogers has left an account of this dinner.
"Neither Moore nor myself had ever seen Byron when it was settled that
he should dine at my house to meet Moore; nor was he known by sight to
Campbell, who, happening to call upon me that morning, consented to
join the party. I thought it best that I alone should be in the
drawing-room when Byron entered it; and Moore and Campbell accordingly
withdrew. Soon after his arrival, they returned; and I introduced them
to him severally, naming them as Adam named the beasts. When we sat
down to dinner, I asked Byron if he would take soup? 'No; he never
took soup.' 'Would he take some fish?' 'No; he never took fish.'
Presently I asked if he would eat some mutton? 'No; he never ate
mutton.' I then asked if he would take a glass of wine? 'No; he never
tasted wine.' It was now necessary to inquire what he 'did' eat and
drink; and the answer was, 'Nothing but hard biscuits and soda-water.'
Unfortunately, neither hard biscuits nor soda-water were at hand; and
he dined upon potatoes bruised down on his plate and drenched with
vinegar. My guests stayed very late, discussing the merits of Walter
Scott and Joanna Baillie. Some days after, meeting Hobhouse, I said to
him, 'How long will Lord Byron persevere in his present diet? 'He
replied, 'Just as long as you continue to notice it.' I did not then
know, what I now know to be a fact, that Byron, after leaving my
house, had gone to a Club in St. James's Street and eaten a hearty
meat-supper"
('Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers', pp. 231, 232). Moore's ('Life', p. 145)
first impressions of Byron were
"the nobleness of his air, his beauty, the gentleness of his voice and
manners, and--what was naturally not the least attraction--his marked
kindness to myself. Being in mourning for his mother, the colour, as
well of his dress, as of his glossy, curling, and picturesque hair,
gave more effect to the pure, spiritual paleness of his features, in
the expression of which, when he spoke, there was a perpetual play of
lively thought, though melancholy was their habitual character when in
repose."]
[Footnote 2: Samuel Rogers (1763-1855), the third son of a London
banker, was born at Stoke Newington. Shortly after his father's death,
in 1793, he withdrew from any active part in the management of the bank,
and devoted himself for the rest of his long life to literature, art,
and society. In 1803 he moved from chambers in the Temple to a house in
St. James's Place, overlooking the Green Park. Here he lived till his
death, in December, 1855, and here he gathered round him, at his
celebrated breakfasts, the most distinguished men and women of his time.
An excellent account of the "Town Mouse" entertaining the "Country
Mouse" is given by Dean Stanley ('Life', vol. i. p. 298), who met
Wordsworth at breakfast with Rogers, in 1841, and describes
"the town mouse a sleek, well-fed, sly, 'white' mouse, and the
country mouse with its rough, weather-worn face and grey hairs; the
town mouse displaying its delicate little rolls and pyramids of
glistening strawberries, the country mouse exulting in its hollow
tree, its crust of bread and liberty, and rallying its brother on his
late hours and frequent dinners."
One of his earliest recollections was the sight of a rebel's head upon
a pole at Temple Bar. He had talked with a Thames boatman who remembered
Pope; had seen Garrick in 'The Suspicious Husband'; had heard Sir Joshua
Reynolds deliver his last lecture as President of the Royal Academy; had
seen John Wesley "lying in state" in the City Road; had gone to call on
Dr. Johnson, but, when his hand was on the knocker, found his courage
fled. He lived to be offered the laureateship in 1850, on the death of
Wordsworth, and to decline it in favour of Tennyson.
"Time was," wrote Mathias ('Pursuits of Literature', note, p. 360, ed.
1808), "when bankers were as stupid as their guineas could make them;
they were neither orators, nor painters, nor poets. But now. .. Mr.
Rogers dreams on Parnassus; and, if I am rightly informed, there is a
great demand among his brethren for the 'Pleasures of Memory'."
Rogers began to write poetry at an early age, and continued to write it
all his life. His 'Ode to Superstition' was published in 1786; the
'Pleasures of Memory', in 1792; the 'Epistle to a Friend', in 1798;
'Columbus', in 1812; 'Jacqueline', in 1813; 'Human Life', in 1819;
'Italy', in 1822-34. His later years were occupied in revising,
correcting, or amplifying his published poems, and in preparing the
notes to 'Italy', which are admirable studies in compactness and
precision of language. A disciple of Pope, an imitator of Goldsmith,
Rogers was rather a skilful adapter than an original poet. His chief
talent was his taste; if he could not originate, he could appreciate.
The fastidious care which he lavished on his work has preserved it. In
his commonplace-book he has entered the number of years which he spent
in composing and revising his poems. His 'Pleasures of Memory' occupied
seven years, 'Columbus' fourteen, and 'Italy' fifteen. An excellent
judge of art, he employed Flaxman, Stothard, and Turner at a time when
their powers were little appreciated by his fellow-countrymen. Of his
taste Byron speaks enthusiastically in his Journal (see p. 331). But the
following passage (hitherto unpublished) from his 'Detached Thoughts'
(Ravenna, 1821) gives his later opinion of the man:
"When Sheridan was on his death-bed, Rogers aided him with purse and
person. This was particularly kind of Rogers, who always spoke ill of
Sheridan (to me, at least), but, indeed, he does that of everybody to
anybody. Rogers is the reverse of the line:
'The _best good man_ with the _worst_ natured Muse,'
being:
'The _worst_ good man with the _best_ natured Muse.'
His Muse being all Sentiment and Sago and Sugar, while he himself is a
venomous talker. I say 'worst good man' because he is (perhaps) a
'good' man; at least he does good now and then, as well he may,
to purchase himself a shilling's worth of salvation for his slanders.
They are so 'little', too--small talk--and old Womanny, and he is
malignant too--and envious--and--he be damned!"
In a manuscript note to these passages Sir Walter Scott writes,
"I never heard Rogers say a single word against Byron, which is rather
odd too. Byron wrote a bitter and undeserved satire on Rogers. This
conduct must have been motived by something or other."
Speaking of Rogers and Sheridan, he says,
"He certainly took pennyworths out of his friend's character. I sat
three hours for my picture to Sir Thomas Lawrence, during which the
whole conversation was filled up by Rogers with stories of Sheridan,
for the least of which, if true, he deserved the gallows. One
respected his committing a rape on his sister-in-law on the day of her
husband's funeral. Others were worse."
In politics Rogers was a Whig, in religion a Presbyterian. But
he meddled little with either. In private life he was as kindly in
action as he was caustic in speech. A sensitive man himself, he
studied to be satirical to others. When Ward condemned 'Columbus'
in the 'Quarterly Review', Rogers repaid his critic in the stinging
epigram:
"Ward has no heart, they say; but I deny it;
He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it."
Byron warmly admired Rogers's poetry. To him he dedicated 'The Giaour',
in
"admiration for his genius, respect for his character, and gratitude
for his friendship."
The 'Quarterly Review', in an article on 'The Corsair' and 'Lara',
mentions
"the highly refined, but somewhat insipid, pastoral tale of
'Jacqueline'."
Byron, on reading the review, said to Lady Byron,
"The man's a fool. 'Jacqueline' is as superior to 'Lara' as Rogers is
to me"
('Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers', p. 154, 'note').
"The 'Pleasures of Memory'," he said (Lady Blessington's
'Conversations', p. 153), "is a very beautiful poem, harmonious,
finished, and chaste; it contains not a single meretricious ornament.
If Rogers has not fixed himself in the higher fields of Parnassus, he
has, at least, cultivated a very pretty flower-garden at its base."
But he goes on to speak of the poem (p. 354) as "a 'hortus siccus' of
pretty flowers," and an illustration of "the difference between
inspiration and versification."
If Rogers ever saw Byron's 'Question and Answer' (1818), he was
generous enough to forget the satire. In 'Italy' he paid a noble
tribute to the genius of the dead poet:
"He is now at rest;
And praise and blame fall on his ear alike,
Now dull in death. Yes, Byron, thou art gone,
Gone like a star that through the firmament
Shot and was lost, in its eccentric course
Dazzling, perplexing. Yet thy heart, methinks,
Was generous, noble--noble in its scorn
Of all things low or little; nothing there
Sordid or servile. If imagined wrongs
Pursued thee, urging thee sometimes to do
Things long regretted, oft, as many know,
None more than I, thy gratitude would build
On slight foundations; and, if in thy life
Not happy, in thy death thou surely wert,
Thy wish accomplished; dying in the land
Where thy young mind had caught ethereal fire,
Dying in Greece, and in a cause so glorious!
They in thy train--ah, little did they think,
As round we went, that they so soon should sit
Mourning beside thee, while a Nation mourned,
Changing her festal for her funeral song;
That they so soon should hear the minute-gun,
As morning gleamed on what remained of thee,
Roll o'er the sea, the mountains, numbering
Thy years of joy and sorrow.
Thou art gone;
And he who would assail thee in thy grave,
Oh, let him pause! For who among us all,
Tried as thou wert--even from thy earliest years,
When wandering, yet unspoilt, a Highland boy--
Tried as thou wert, and with thy soul of flame;
Pleasure, while yet the down was on thy cheek,
Uplifting, pressing, and to lips like thine,
Her charmed cup--ah, who among us all
Could say he had not erred as much, and more?"]
* * * * *
208.--To Francis Hodgson.
8, St. James's Street, November 17, 1811.
Dear Hodgson,--I have been waiting for the letter [1] which was to have
been sent by you _immediately_, and must again jog your memory on the
subject. I believe I wrote you a full and true account of poor--'s
proceedings. Since his reunion to--, [2] I have heard nothing further
from him. What a pity! a man of talent, past the heyday of life, and a
clergyman, to fall into such imbecility. I have heard from Hobhouse, who
has at last sent more copy to Cawthorn for his _Travels_. I franked an
enormous cover for you yesterday, seemingly to convey at least twelve
cantos on any given subject. I fear the I aspect of it was too _epic_
for the post. From this and other coincidences I augur a publication on
your part, but what, or when, or how much, you must disclose
immediately.
I don't know what to say about coming down to Cambridge at present, but
live in hopes. I am so completely superannuated there, and besides feel
it something brazen in me to wear my magisterial habit, after all my
buffooneries, that I hardly think I shall venture again. And being now
an [Greek: ariston men hydor] disciple I won't come within wine-shot of
such determined topers as your collegiates. I have not yet subscribed to
Bowen. I mean to cut Harrow "_enim unquam_" as somebody classically said
for a farewell sentence. I am superannuated there too, and, in short, as
old at twenty-three as many men at seventy.
Do write and send this letter that hath been so long in your custody. It
is important that Moore should be certain that I never received it, if
it be _his_. Are you drowned in a bottle of Port? or a Kilderkin of Ale?
that I have never heard from you, or are you fallen into a fit of
perplexity? Cawthorn has declined, and the MS. is returned to him. This
is all at present from yours in the faith,
[Greek: Mpairon].
[Footnote 1: On November 17, 1811, Hodgson writes to Byron:
"I enclose you the long-delayed letter, which, from the similarity of
hands alone, Davies and I will go shares in a bet of ten to one is the
cartel in question."]
[Footnote 2: The names are carefully erased by Hodgson.]
* * * * *
209.--To Francis Hodgson.
8, St. James's Street, December 4, 1811.
MY DEAR HODGSON,--I have seen Miller, [1]
who will see Bland, [2] but I have no great hopes of his obtaining the
translation from the crowd of candidates. Yesterday I wrote to Harness,
who will probably tell you what I said on the subject. Hobhouse has sent
me my Romaic MS., and I shall require your aid in correcting the press,
as your Greek eye is more correct than mine. But these will not come to
type this month, I dare say. I have put some soft lines on ye Scotch in
the 'Curse of Minerva'; take them;
"Yet Caledonia claims some native worth," etc. [3]
If you are not content now, I must say with the Irish drummer to the
deserter who called out,
"Flog high, flog low"
"The de'il burn ye, there's no pleasing you, flog where one will."
Have you given up wine, even British wine?
I have read Watson to Gibbon. [4] He proves nothing, so I am where I
was, verging towards Spinoza; and yet it is a gloomy Creed, and I want a
better, but there is something Pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In
short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything. The post brings me to a
conclusion. Bland has just been here. Yours ever,
BN.
[Footnote 1: See Letters', vol. i. p. 319, 'note' 2 [Footnote 1 of
Letter 158]]
[Footnote 2: Byron was endeavouring to secure for Bland (see 'Letters,
vol. i. p. 271, 'note' 1 [Footnote 2 of Letter 137]), the work of
translating Lucien Buonaparte's poem of 'Charlemagne'. He did not
succeed. The poem, translated by Dr. Butler, Head-master of Shrewsbury,
afterwards Bishop of Lichfield, and Francis Hodgson, was published in
1815.]
[Footnote 3: Lines 149-156.]
[Footnote 4: 'An Apology for Christianity, in a Series of Letters to
Edward Gibbon, Esq.', by Richard Watson, D.D. (1776). Gibbon had a great
respect for Watson, at this time Professor of Divinity at Cambridge,
afterwards Bishop of Llandaff, whom he describes as "a prelate of a
large mind and liberal spirit." In a letter to Holroyd (November 4,
1776), he speaks of the 'Apology' as "feeble," but "uncommingly
genteel." To his stepmother he writes, November 29, 1776, that Watson's
answer is "civil" and "too dull to deserve your notice."]
* * * * *
210.--To William Harness. [1]
8, St. James's Street, Dec. 6, 1811.
My Dear Harness,--I write again, but don't suppose I mean to lay such a
tax on your pen and patience as to expect regular replies. When you are
inclined, write: when silent, I shall have the consolation of knowing
that you are much better employed. Yesterday, Bland and I called on Mr.
Miller, who, being then out, will call on Bland to-day or to-morrow. I
shall certainly endeavour to bring them together.--You are censorious,
child; when you are a little older, you will learn to dislike every
body, but abuse nobody.
With regard to the person of whom you speak, your own good sense must
direct you. I never pretend to advise, being an implicit believer in the
old proverb. This present frost is detestable. It is the first I have
felt for these three years, though I longed for one in the oriental
summer, when no such thing is to be had, unless I had gone to the top of
Hymettus for it.
I thank you most truly for the concluding part of your letter. I have
been of late not much accustomed to kindness from any quarter, and am
not the less pleased to meet with it again from one where I had known it
earliest. I have not changed in all my ramblings,--Harrow, and, of
course, yourself, never left me, and the
"_Dulces reminiscitur Argos_"
attended me to the very spot to which that sentence alludes in the mind
of the fallen Argive.--Our intimacy began before we began to date at
all, and it rests with you to continue it till the hour which must
number it and me with the things that _were_.
Do read mathematics.--I should think _X plus Y_ at least as amusing as
the 'Curse of Kehama' [2], and much more intelligible. Master Southey's
poems _are_, in fact, what parallel lines might be--viz. prolonged _ad
infinitum_ without meeting anything half so absurd as themselves.
"What news, what news? Queen Orraca,
What news of scribblers five?
S----, W----, C----, L----d, and L----e?
All damn'd, though yet alive."
Coleridge is lecturing. [3]
"Many an old fool," said Hannibal to some such lecturer, "but such as
this, never." [4]
Ever yours, etc.
[Footnote 1: See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 177, 'note' 1. [Footnote 1 of
Letter 92]]
[Footnote 2: Robert Southey (1774-1843) published his 'Curse of Kehama'
in 1810. It formed a part of a series of heroic poems in which he
intended to embody the chief mythologies of the world. In spite of
Byron's adverse opinion, it contains magnificent passages, and disputes
with 'Roderick, the Last of the Goths' (1814), the claim to be the
finest of his longer poems. Southey's literary activity was immense. He
had already produced 'Joan of Arc' (1796), 'Thalaba' (1801), 'Madoc'
(1805), and many other works in prose and verse. At this time he was
personally unknown to Byron, who had ridiculed his "annual strains."
They met for the first time at Holland House, in September, 1813. (See
Byron's letter to Moore, September 27, 1813, and Journal, p. 331.) The
animosity between the two men belongs to a later date, and in its origin
was partly political, partly personal. Southey, in early life, had been
a republican and a Unitarian, if not a deist. He collaborated with
Coleridge in the 'Fall of Robespierre' (1794), wrote a portion of the
'Conciones ad Populum' (1795), which the Government considered
seditious; and, according to Poole ('Thomas Pools and his Friends', vol.
i. chap, vi.), wavered "between Deism and Atheism." He became a champion
of monarchical principles and of religious orthodoxy, and attacked the
views, which he had once held and expressed in 'Wat Tyler' (written in
1794, and piratically published in 1817), with the bitterness of a
reactionary. He had also, as Byron believed, circulated, if not
invented, a report that Byron and Shelley had formed "a league of
incest" at Geneva, in 1816-17, with "two girls," Mary Godwin (Mrs.
Shelley) and Jane Clairmont. Byron not only denied the charge, but
retorted upon him, in his "Observations upon an Article in 'Blackwood's
Magazine'" (March 15, 1820), as the author of 'Wat Tyler' and poet
laureate, the man who "wrote treason and serves the King," the
ex-pantisocrat who advocated "all things, including women, in common."
Southey's 'Vision of Judgment', an apotheosis of George III., published
in 1821, gave Byron a second provocation and a second opportunity, by
speaking in the preface of his "Satanic spirit of pride and audacious
impiety." Byron again replied in prose; and Southey (January 5, 1820),
in a letter to the 'London Courier', invited him to attack him in rhyme.
In Byron's 'Vision of Judgment' he found his invitation accepted, and
himself pilloried in that tremendous satire. Southey overvalued his own
narrative poetry. It is as a man, a prominent figure in literary
history, a leader in the romantic revival, a master of prose, and the
author of the best short biography in the English language--the 'Life of
Nelson' (1813)--that he lives at the present day. His name also deserves
to be remembered with gratitude by all who have read the nursery classic
of "'The Three Bears'." Byron parodies a stanza in Southey's "Queen
Orraca and the Five Martyrs of Morocco" ('Works', vol. vi. pp. 166-173):
"What news, O King Affonso,
What news of the Friars five?
Have they preached to the Miramamolin;
And are they still alive?"
The blanks stand for Scott or Southey, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Lloyd, and
Lamb(e), with the lines from 'New Morality' in his mind:
"Coleridge and Southey, Lloyd and Lamb and Co.,
Tune all your mystic harps to praise Lepaux."]
[Footnote 3: Coleridge, beginning November 18, 1811, and ending January
27, 1812, delivered a course of seventeen lectures on Shakespeare and
Milton, "in illustration of the principles of poetry." The lectures were
given under the auspices of the London Philosophical Society, in the
Scot's Corporation Hall, Crane Court, Fleet Street. Single tickets for
the whole course were two guineas, or three guineas "with the privilege
of introducing a lady." J. Payne Collier took shorthand notes of the
lectures and published a portion of his material, the rest being lost
('Lectures on Shakespear', from notes by J.P. Collier), The notes, with
other contemporary reports from the 'Times', 'Morning Chronicle',
'Dublin Chronicle', Crabb Robinson's 'Diary', and other sources, were
republished in 1883 by Mr. Ashe ('Lectures and Notes on Shakspere and
other English Poets').
Collier, in his notes of Coleridge's conversation (November I, 1811),
gives the substance, in all probability, of the attack on Campbell
alluded to in the next letter. Coleridge said that "neither Southey,
Scott, nor Campbell would by their poetry survive much beyond the day
when they lived and wrote. Their works seemed to him not to have the
seeds of vitality, the real germs of long life. The two first were
entertaining as tellers of stories in verse; but the last, in his
'Pleasures of Hope', obviously had no fixed design, but when a thought
(of course, not a very original one) came into his head, he put it down
in couplets, and afterwards strung the 'disjecta membra' (not 'poetae')
together. Some of the best things in it were borrowed; for instance the
line:
'And freedom shriek'd when Kosciusko fell,'
was taken from a much-ridiculed piece by Dennis, a pindaric on William
III.:
'Fair Liberty shriek'd out aloud, aloud Religion groaned.'
It is the same production in which the following much-laughed-at
specimen of bathos is found:
'Nor Alps nor Pyreneans keep him out,
Nor fortified redoubt.'
Coleridge had little toleration for Campbell, and considered him, as far
as he had gone, a mere verse-maker."(Ashe's Introduction to 'Lectures on
Shakspere', pp. 16, 17).]
[Footnote 4: Hannibal, in exile at Ephesus, was taken to hear a lecture
by a peripatetic philosopher named Phormio. The lecturer ('homo
copiosus') discoursed for some hours on the duties of a general, and
military subjects generally. The delighted audience asked Hannibal his
opinion of the lecture. He replied in Greek,
"I have seen many old fools often, but such an old fool as Phormio,
never
('Multos se deliros senes s3/4pe vidisse; sed qui magis, quam Phormio,
deliraret, vidisse neminem')"
(Cicero, 'De Oratore', ii. 18).]
* * * * *
211.--To James Wedderburn Webster.
8, St. James's St., Dec. 7th, 1811.
My Dear W.,--I was out of town during the arrival of your letters, but
forwarded all on my return.
I hope you are going on to your satisfaction, and that her Ladyship is
about to produce an heir with all his mother's Graces and all his Sire's
good qualities. You know I am to be a Godfather. Byron Webster! a most
heroic name, say what you please.
Don't be alarmed; my "_caprice_" won't lead me in to Dorset. No,
_Bachelors_ for me! I consider you as dead to us, and all my future
_devoirs_ are but tributes of respect to your _Memory_. Poor fellow! he
was a facetious companion and well respected by all who knew him; but he
is gone. Sooner or later we must all come to it.
I see nothing of you in the _papers_, the only place where I don't wish
to see you; but you will be in town in the Winter. What dost thou do?
shoot, hunt, and "wind up y'e Clock" as Caleb Quotem says? [1]
That thou art vastly happy, I doubt not.
I see your brother in law at times, and like him much; but we miss you
much; I shall leave town in a fortnight to pass my Xmas in Notts.
Good afternoon, Dear W.
Believe me,
Yours ever most truly,
B.
[Footnote 1: Byron alludes to Caleb Quotem's song in 'The Review, or
Wags of Windsor' (act ii. sc. 2), by George Colman the Younger:
"I'm parish clerk and sexton here,
My name is Caleb Quotem,
I'm painter, glazier, auctioneer,
In short, I am factotum."
...
"At night by the fire, like a good, jolly cock,
When my day's work is done and all over,
I tipple, I smoke, and I wind up the clock,
With my sweet Mrs. Quotem in clover."]
* * * * *
212.--To William Harness.
St. James's Street, Dec. 8, 1811.
Behold a most formidable sheet, without gilt or black edging, and
consequently very vulgar and indecorous, particularly to one of your
precision; but this being Sunday, I can procure no better, and will
atone for its length by not filling it. Bland I have not seen since my
last letter; but on Tuesday he dines with me, and will meet Moore, the
epitome of all that is exquisite in poetical or personal
accomplishments. How Bland has settled with Miller, I know not. I have
very little interest with either, and they must arrange their concerns
according to their own gusto. I have done my endeavours, _at your
request_, to bring them together, and hope they may agree to their
mutual advantage.
Coleridge has been lecturing against Campbell. [1]
Rogers was present, and from him I derive the information. We are going
to make a party to hear this Manichean of poesy. Pole [2] is to marry
Miss Long, and will be a very miserable dog for all that. The present
ministers are to continue, and his Majesty _does_ continue in the same
state; so there's folly and madness for you, both in a breath.
I never heard but of one man truly fortunate, and he was Beaumarchais,
[3] the author of _Figaro_, who buried two wives and gained three
lawsuits before he was thirty.
And now, child, what art thou doing? _Reading, I trust_. I want to see
you take a degree. Remember, this is the most important period of your
life; and don't disappoint your papa and your aunt, and all your
kin--besides myself. Don't you know that all male children are begotten
for the express purpose of being graduates? and that even I am an A.M.,
[4] though how I became so the Public Orator only can resolve. Besides,
you are to be a priest; and to confute Sir William Drummond's late book
about the Bible [5] (printed, but not published), and all other infidels
whatever. Now leave Master H.'s gig, and Master S.'s Sapphics, and
become as immortal as Cambridge can make you.
You see, _Mio Carissimo_, what a pestilent correspondent I am likely to
become; but then you shall be as quiet at Newstead as you please, and I
won't disturb your studies as I do now. When do you fix the day, that I
may take you up according to contract? Hodgson talks of making a third
in our journey; but we can't stow him, inside at least. Positively you
shall go with me as was agreed, and don't let me have any of your
_politesse_ to H. on the occasion. I shall manage to arrange for both
with a little contrivance. I wish H. was not quite so fat, and we should
pack better. You will want to know what I am doing--chewing tobacco.
You see nothing of my allies, Scrope Davies and Matthews [6]--they don't
suit you; and how does it happen that I--who am a pipkin of the same
pottery--continue in your good graces? Good night,--I will go on in the
morning.
Dec. 9th.--In a morning I am always sullen, and to-day is as sombre as
myself. Rain and mist are worse than a sirocco, particularly in a
beef-eating and beer-drinking country. My bookseller, Cawthorne, has
just left me, and tells me, with a most important face, that he is in
treaty for a novel of Madame D'Arblay's, for which 1000 guineas are
asked! [7] He wants me to read the MS. (if he obtains it), which I shall
do with pleasure; but I should be very cautious in venturing an opinion
on her whose _Cecilia_ Dr. Johnson superintended. [8]
If he lends it to me, I shall put it in the hands of Rogers and Moore,
who are truly men of taste. I have filled the sheet, and beg your
pardon; I will not do it again. I shall, perhaps, write again; but if
not, believe, silent or scribbling, that I am,
My dearest William, ever, etc.
[Footnote 1: See p. 75, 'note' 1. In the application to Coleridge of the
phrase, "Manichean of poesy," Byron may allude to Cowper's 'Task' (bk.
v. lines 444, 445):
"As dreadful as the Manichean God,
Adored through fear, strong only to destroy."]
[Footnote 2: William Wellesley Pole Tylney Long Wellesley (1788-1857),
one of the most worthless of the bloods of the Regency, son of Lord
Maryborough, and nephew of the Duke of Wellington, became in 1845 the
fourth Earl of Mornington. He married in March, 1812, Catherine,
daughter and co-heir, with her brother, of Sir James Tylney Long, Bart.,
of Draycot, Wilts. On his marriage he added his wife's double name to
his own, and so gave a point to the authors of Rejected Addresses:
"Long may Long-Tilney-Wellesley-Long-Pole live."
For Byron's allusion to him in 'The Waltz', see 'Poems', 1898, vol. i.
p. 484, note 1. Having run through his wife's large fortune by his
extravagant expenditure at Wanstead Park and elsewhere, he was obliged,
in 1822, to escape from his creditors to the Continent. There (1823-25)
he lived with Mrs. Bligh, wife of Captain Bligh, of the Coldstream
Guards. His wife died in 1825, after filing a bill for divorce, and
making her children wards of Chancery. Wellesley subsequently (1828)
married Mrs. Bligh; but the second wife was as ill treated as the first,
and he left her so destitute that she was a frequent applicant for
relief at the metropolitan police-courts. He died of heart-disease in
July, 1857, a pensioner on the charity of his cousin, the second Duke of
Wellington.]
[Footnote 3: Byron's statement is incorrect. Pierre-Auguste Caron de
Beaumarchais (1732-1799) married, in 1756, as his first wife,
Madeleine-Catherine Aubertin, widow of the sieur Franquet. She died in
1757. He married, in 1768, as his second wife, Genevieve-Magdaleine
Wattebled, widow of the sieur Leveque. She died in 1770. The only
lawsuit which he won "before he was thirty," was that against Lepaute,
who claimed as his own invention the escapement for watches and clocks,
which Beaumarchais had discovered. The case was decided in favour of
Beaumarchais in 1754. Out of his second lawsuit--with Count de la
Blache, legatee of his patron Duverney, who died in 1770--sprang his
action against Goezman, with which began the publication of his
'Memoires'. (See Lomenie, 'Beaumarchais and his Times', tr. by H.S.
Edwards, 4 vols., London, 1855-6.)]
[Footnote 4: Byron took his M. A. degree at Cambridge July 4, 1808.]
[Footnote 5: Sir William Drummond (1770-1828), Tory M.P. for St. Mawes
(1795-96) and for Lostwithiel (1796-1801), held from 1801 to 1809
several diplomatic posts: ambassador to the Court of Naples 1801-3; to
the Ottoman Porte 1803-6; to the Court of Naples for the second time,
1806-9. From 1809, at which date his political and diplomatic career
closed, he devoted himself to literature. He had already published
'Philosophical Sketches on the Principles of Society and Government'
(1793); 'A Review of the Governments of Sparta and Athens' (1795); 'The
Satires of Persius', translated (1798); 'Byblis, a Tragedy', in verse
(1802); 'Academical Questions' (1805). In 1810 he published
'Herculanensia'; and, in the following year, printed for private
circulation his 'OEdipus Judaicus', a bold attempt to explain many parts
of the Old Testament as astronomical allegories. In 1817 appeared the
first part of his 'Odin', a poem in blank verse; in 1824-29 his
'Origines, or Remarks on the Origin of several Empires, States, and
Cities', was published. Sir William, who died at Rome in 1828, lived
much of his later life abroad.
Drummond, as a member of the Alfred Club, is described in the
'Sexagenarian' (vol. ii. chap, xxiv.), where Beloe, speaking of the
('Edipus Judaicus'), says that
"he appeared to have employed his leisure in searching for objections
and arguments as they related to Scripture, which had been so often
refuted, that they were considered by the learned and wise as almost
exploded."
He refers to 'Byblis' as evidence of his "perverted and fantastical
taste" in poetry, praises his "spirited translation" of Persius,
commends the "sound sense and very extensive reading" of his
'Philosophical' 'Sketches', and scoffs at the "metaphysical labyrinth"
of his 'Academical Questions'.
"When you go to Naples," said Byron to Lady Blessington
('Conversations', pp. 238, 239), "you must make acquaintance with Sir
William Drummond, for he is certainly one of the most erudite men and
admirable philosophers now living. He has all the wit of Voltaire,
with a profundity that seldom appertains to wit, and writes so
forcibly, and with such elegance and purity of style, that his works
possess a peculiar charm. Have you read his 'Academical Questions'? If
not, get them directly, and I think you will agree with me, that the
preface to that work alone would prove Sir William Drummond an
admirable writer. He concludes it by the following sentence, which I
think one of the best in our language:
"'Prejudice may be trusted to guard the outworks for a short space
of time, while Reason slumbers in the citadel; but if the latter
sink into a lethargy, the former will quickly erect a standard for
herself. Philosophy, wisdom, and liberty support each other; he who
will not reason is a bigot; he who cannot is a fool; and he who
dares not is a slave.'
"Is not the passage admirable? How few could have written it! and yet
how few read Drummond's works! They are too good to be popular. His
'Odin' is really a fine poem, and has some passages that are
beautiful, but it is so little read that it may be said to have
dropped still-born from the press--a mortifying proof of the bad taste
of the age. His translation of Persius is not only very literal, but
preserves much of the spirit of the original... he has escaped all
the defects of translators, and his Persius resembles the original as
nearly, in feeling and sentiment, as two languages so dissimilar in
idiom will admit."]
[Footnote 6: Henry Matthews (1789-1828) of Eton and King's College,
Cambridge, younger brother of Charles Skinner Matthews, and author of
the 'Diary of an Invalid' (1820).]
[Footnote 7: 'The Wanderer, or Female Difficulties', Madame d'Arblay's
fourth and last novel ('Evelina', 1778; 'Cecilia', 1782; 'Camilla',
1796), was published in 1814.
"I am indescribably occupied," she writes to Dr. Burney, October 12,
1813, "in giving more and more last touches to my work, about which I
begin to grow very anxious. I am to receive merely L500 upon delivery
of the MS.; the two following L500 by instalments from nine months to
nine months, that is, in a year and a half from the day of
publication. If all goes well, the whole will be L3000, but only at
the end of the sale of eight thousand copies."
The book failed; but rumour magnified the sum received by the writer.
Mrs. Piozzi, shortly after the publication of 'The Wanderer' and of
Byron's lines, "Weep, daughter of a royal line," writes to Samuel
Lysons, February 17, 1814:
"Come now, do send me a kind letter and tell me if Madame d'Arblaye
gets L3000 for her book or no, and if Lord Byron is to be called over
about some verses he has written, as the papers hint"
('Autobiography, Letters, and Literary Remains', vol. ii. p. 246).]
[Footnote 8: Dr. Johnson never saw 'Cecilia' (1782) till it was in
print. A day or two before publication, Miss Burney sent three copies to
the three persons who had the best claim to them--her father, Mrs.
Thrale, and Dr. Johnson.]
* * * * *
213.--To Francis Hodgson.
London, Dec. 8, 1811.
I sent you a sad Tale of Three Friars the other day, and now take a dose
in another style. I wrote it a day or two ago, on hearing a song of
former days.
"Away, away, ye notes of woe," etc., etc. [1]
I have gotten a book by Sir W. Drummond (printed, but not published),
entitled _OEdipus Judaicus_ in which he attempts to prove the greater
part of the Old Testament an allegory, particularly Genesis and Joshua.
He professes himself a theist in the preface, and handles the literal
interpretation very roughly. I wish you could see it. Mr. Ward [2] has
lent it me, and I confess to me it is worth fifty Watsons.
You and Harness must fix on the time for your visit to Newstead; I can
command mine at your wish, unless any thing particular occurs in the
interim. Master William Harness and I have recommenced a most fiery
correspondence; I like him as Euripides liked Agatho, or Darby admired
Joan, as much for the past as the present. Bland dines with me on
Tuesday to meet Moore. Coleridge has attacked the _Pleasures of Hope_,
and all other pleasures whatsoever. Mr. Rogers was present, and heard
himself indirectly _rowed_ by the lecturer. We are going in a party to
hear the new Art of Poetry by this reformed schismatic [3]; and were I
one of these poetical luminaries, or of sufficient consequence to be
noticed by the man of lectures, I should not hear him without an answer.
For you know,
"an a man will be beaten with brains, he shall never keep a clean
doublet." [4]
Campbell [5] will be desperately annoyed. I never saw a man (and of him
I have seen very little) so sensitive;--what a happy temperament! I am
sorry for it; what can _he_ fear from criticism? I don't know if Bland
has seen Miller, who was to call on him yesterday.
To-day is the Sabbath,--a day I never pass pleasantly, but at Cambridge;
and, even there, the organ is a sad remembrancer. Things are stagnant
enough in town; as long as they don't retrograde, 'tis all very well.
Hobhouse writes and writes and writes, and is an author. I do nothing
but eschew tobacco. [6] I wish parliament were assembled, that I may
hear, and perhaps some day be heard;--but on this point I am not very
sanguine. I have many plans;--sometimes I think of the East again, and
dearly beloved Greece. I am well, but weakly. Yesterday Kinnaird [7]
told me I looked very ill, and sent me home happy.
You will never give up wine. See what it is to be thirty! if you were
six years younger, you might leave off anything. You drink and repent;
you repent and drink.
Is Scrope still interesting and invalid? And how does Hinde with his
cursed chemistry? To Harness I have written, and he has written, and we
have all written, and have nothing now to do but write again, till Death
splits up the pen and the scribbler.
The Alfred [8] has three hundred and fifty-four candidates for six
vacancies. The cook has run away and left us liable, which makes our
committee very plaintive. Master Brook, our head serving-man, has the
gout, and our new cook is none of the best. I speak from report,--for
what is cookery to a leguminous-eating Ascetic? So now you know as much
of the matter as I do. Books and quiet are still there, and they may
dress their dishes in their own way for me. Let me know your
determination as to Newstead, and believe me, Yours ever,
[Greek: Mpairon.]
[Footnote 1: Here follows one of the 'Thyrza' poems.]
[Footnote 2: The Hon. John William Ward, afterwards fourth Earl of
Dudley. Byron said of him (Lady Blessington's 'Conversations with Lord
Byron', p. 197),
"Ward is one of the best-informed men I know, and, in a 'tete-a-tete',
is one of the most agreeable companions. He has great originality,
and, being 'tres distrait', it adds to the piquancy of his
observations, which are sometimes somewhat 'trop naive', though always
amusing. This 'naivete' of his is the more piquant from his being
really a good-natured man, who unconsciously thinks aloud. Interest
Ward on a subject, and I know no one who can talk better. His
expressions are concise without being poor, and terse and epigrammatic
without being affected," etc.
Of somewhat the same opinion was Lady H. Leveson Gower ('Letters of
Harriet, Countess Granville', vol. i. pp. 41, 42):
"The charm of Mr. Ward's conversation is exactly what Mr. Luttrell
wants, a sort of 'abandon', and being entertaining because it is his
nature and he cannot help it. I only mean Mr. Ward in his happier
hour, for what I have said of him is the very reverse of what he is
when vanity or humour seize upon him."]
[Footnote 3: Crabb Robinson, in his 'Diary' for January 20, 1812, has
the following entry:
"In the evening at Coleridge's lecture. Conclusion of Milton. Not one
of the happiest of Coleridge's efforts. Rogers was there, and with him
was Lord Byron. He was wrapped up, but I recognized his club foot,
and, indeed, his countenance and general appearance."]
[Footnote 4:
"'Benedict':
No; if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing
handsome about him."
'Much Ado about Nothing', act v. sc. 4.]
[Footnote 5: Thomas Campbell (1777-1844) lectured at the Royal
Institution in 1811 on poetry. The lectures were afterwards published in
the 'New Monthly Magazine', of which he was editor (1820-30).
Campbell also apparently read his lectures aloud at private houses. Miss
Berry ('Journal', vol. ii. p. 502) mentions a dinner-party on June 26,
1812, at the Princess of Wales's, where she heard him read his "first
discourse," delivered at the Institution. Again (ibid., vol. iii. p. 6),
she dined with Madame de Stael, March 9, 1814:
"Nobody but Campbell the poet, Rocca, and her own daughter. After
dinner, Campbell read to us a discourse of his upon English poetry,
and upon some of the great poets. There are always signs of a poet and
critic of genius in all he does, often encumbered by too ornate a
style."
Campbell's best work was done between 1798 and 1810. Within that period
were published 'The Pleasures of Hope' (1799), 'Gertrude of Wyoming'
(1809), and such other shorter poems as "Hohenlinden," "Ye Mariners of
England," "The Battle of the Baltic," and "O'Connor's Child." His
"Ritter Bann," a reminiscence of his sojourn abroad (1800-1), was not
published till later; both it and "The Last Man" were published in the
'New Monthly Magazine', during the period of his editorship. An
excellent judge of verse, he collected 'Specimens of the British Poets'
(1819), to which he added a valuable essay on poetry and short
biographies. His 'Theodoric' (1824), 'Pilgrim of Glencoe' (1842), and
Lives of Mrs. Siddons, Petrarch, and Shakespeare added nothing to his
reputation.
The judgment of contemporary poets in the main agreed with Coleridge's
estimate of Campbell's work.
"There are some of Campbell's lyrics," said Rogers ('Table-Talk',
etc., pp. 254, 255), "which will never die. His 'Pleasures of Hope' is
no great favourite with me. The 'feeling' throughout his 'Gertrude' is
very beautiful." Wordsworth also thought the 'Pleasures of Hope'
"strangely over-rated; its fine words and sounding lines please the
generality of readers, who never stop to ask themselves the meaning of
a passage." Byron, who calls Campbell "a warm-hearted and honest man,"
thought that his "'Lochiel' and 'Mariners' are spirit-stirring
productions; his 'Gertrude of Wyoming' is beautiful; and some of the
episodes in his 'Pleasures of Hope' pleased me so much that I know
them by heart".
(Lady Blessington's 'Conversations with Lord Byron', p. 353).
George Ticknor, who met Campbell in 1815 ('Life', vol. i. p. 63), says,
"He is a short, small man, and has one of the roundest and most lively
faces I have seen amongst this grave people. His manners seemed as
open as his countenance, and his conversation as spirited as his
poetry. He could have kept me amused till morning."
Shortly afterwards, Ticknor went to see him at Sydenham (ibid., p. 65):
"Campbell had the same good spirits and love of merriment as when I
met him before,--the same desire to amuse everybody about him; but
still I could see, as I partly saw then, that he labours under the
burden of an extraordinary reputation, too easily acquired, and feels
too constantly that it is necessary for him to make an exertion to
satisfy expectation. The consequence is that, though he is always
amusing, he is not always quite natural."
Sir Walter Scott made a similar remark about the numbing effect of
Campbell's reputation upon his literary work; his deference to critics
ruined his individuality. It was Scott's admiration for "Hohenlinden"
which induced Campbell to publish the poem. The two men, travelling in a
stage-coach alone, beguiled the way by repeating poetry. At last Scott
asked Campbell for something of his own. He replied that there was one
thing he had never printed, full of "drums and trumpets and
blunderbusses and thunder," and that he did not know if there was any
good in it. He then repeated "Hohenlinden." When he had finished, Scott
broke out with,
"But, do you know, that's devilish fine! Why, it's the finest thing
you ever wrote, and it 'must' be printed!"]
[Footnote 6: See p. 31, note 1 [Footnote 1 of Letter 181].]
[Footnote 7: Douglas James William Kinnaird (1788-1830), fifth son of
the seventh Baron Kinnaird, was educated at Eton, Gottingen, and Trinity
College, Cambridge. He was an intimate friend of Hobhouse, with whom he
travelled on the Continent (1813-14), and was in political sympathy. He
represented Bishop's Castle from July, 1819, to March, 1820, but losing
his seat at the general election, did not again attempt to enter
Parliament. He was famous for his "mob dinners," to which Moore probably
refers when he writes to Byron, in an undated letter, of the
"Deipnosophist Kinnaird." He was a partner in the bank of Ransom and
Morland, a member of the committee for managing Drury Lane Theatre,
author of the acting version of 'The Merchant of Bruges, or Beggar's
Bush' (acted at Drury Lane, December 14, 1815), and a member of the
Radical Rota Club.
Kinnaird was Byron's "trusty and trustworthy trustee and banker, and
crown and sheet anchor." It was at his suggestion that Byron wrote the
'Hebrew Melodies' and the 'Monody on the Death of Sheridan'. Talking of
Kinnaird to Lady Blessington ('Conversations', p. 215), Byron said,
"My friend Dug is a proof that a good heart cannot compensate for an
irritable temper; whenever he is named, people dwell on the last and
pass over the first; and yet he really has an excellent heart, and a
sound head, of which I, in common with many others of his friends,
have had various proofs. He is clever, too, and well informed, and I
do think would have made a figure in the world, were it not for his
temper, which gives a dictatorial tone to his manner, that is
offensive to the 'amour propre' of those with whom he mixes."]
[Footnote 8: The Alfred Club (1808-55), established at 23, Albemarle
Street, was the Savile of the day. Beloe, in his 'Sexagenarian' (vol.
ii. chaps, xx.-xxv.), describes among the members of the Symposium, as
he calls it, Sir James Mackintosh, George Ellis, William Gifford, John
Reeves, Sir W. Drummond, and himself. Byron, in his 'Detached Thoughts',
says,
"I was a member of the Alfred. It was pleasant; a little too sober and
literary, and bored with Sotheby and Sir Francis d'Ivernois; but one
met Peel, and Ward, and Valentia, and many other pleasant or known
people; and it was, upon the whole, a decent resource in a rainy day,
in a dearth of parties, or parliament, or in an empty season."
It was, says Mr. Wheatley ('London Past and Present'), known as the
'Half-read'.
In a manuscript note, now for the first time printed as written, on the
above passage from Byron's 'Detached Thoughts', Sir Walter Scott writes,
"The Alfred, like all other clubs, was much haunted with boars, a
tusky monster which delights to range where men most do congregate. A
boar, or bore, is always remarkable for something respectable, such as
wealth, character, high birth, acknowledged talent, or, in short, for
something that forbids people to turn him out by the shoulders, or, in
other words, to cut him dead. Much of this respectability is supplied
by the mere circumstance of belonging to a certain society of
clubists, within whose districts the bore obtains free-warren, and may
wallow or grunt at pleasure. Old stagers in the club know and avoid
the fated corner and arm-chair which he haunts; but he often rushes
from his lair on the inexperienced."]
* * * * *
214.--To Thomas Moore.
December 11, 1811.
My Dear Moore,--If you please, we will drop our former monosyllables,
and adhere to the appellations sanctioned by our godfathers and
godmothers. If you make it a point, I will withdraw your name; at the
same time there is no occasion, as I have this day postponed your
election 'sine die', till it shall suit your wishes to be amongst us. I
do not say this from any awkwardness the erasure of your proposal would
occasion to _me_, but simply such is the state of the case; and, indeed,
the longer your name is up, the stronger will become your probability of
success, and your voters more numerous. Of course you will decide--your
wish shall be my law. If my zeal has already outrun discretion, pardon
me, and attribute my officiousness to an excusable motive.
I wish you would go down with me to Newstead. Hodgson will be there, and
a young friend, named Harness, the earliest and dearest I ever had from
the third form at Harrow to this hour. I can promise you good wine, and,
if you like shooting, a manor of 4000 acres, fires, books, your own free
will, and my own very indifferent company. 'Balnea, vina, Venus' [1].
Hodgson will plague you, I fear, with verse;--for my own part I will
conclude, with Martial, 'nil recitabo tibi' [2]; and surely the last
inducement, is not the least. Ponder on my proposition, and believe me,
my dear Moore,
Yours ever,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1:
"Balnea, vina, Venus corrumpunt corpora nostra."
The words are thus given in Grueter ('Corpus Inscriptionum' (1603), p.
DCCCCXII. 10).]
[Footnote 2: Martial (xi. lii. 16), 'Ad Julium Cerealem':
"Plus ego polliceor: nil recitabo tibi."]
* * * * *
215.--To Francis Hodgson.
8, St. James's Street, Dec. 12, 1811.
Why, Hodgson! I fear you have left off wine and me at the same time,--I
have written and written and written, and no answer! My dear Sir Edgar
[1], water disagrees with you--drink sack and write. Bland did not come
to his appointment, being unwell, but Moore supplied all other vacancies
most delectably. I have hopes of his joining us at Newstead. I am sure
you would like him more and more as he developes,--at least I do.
How Miller and Bland go on, I don't know. Cawthorne talks of being in
treaty for a novel of Madame D'Arblay's, and if he obtains it (at 1500
guineas!!) wishes me to see the MS. This I should read with pleasure,--
not that I should ever dare to venture a criticism on her whose writings
Dr. Johnson once revised, but for the pleasure of the thing. If my
worthy publisher wanted a sound opinion, I should send the MS. to Rogers
and Moore, as men most alive to true taste. I have had frequent letters
from Wm. Harness, and _you_ are silent; certes, you are not a schoolboy.
However, I have the consolation of knowing that you are better employed,
viz. reviewing. You don't deserve that I should add another syllable,
and I won't.
Yours, etc.
P.S.--I only wait for your answer to fix our meeting.
[Footnote 1: Hodgson published, in 1810, 'Sir Edgar, a Tale'.]
* * * * *
216.--To R. C. Dallas.
[Undated, Dec.? 1811] [1]
DEAR SIR,--I have only this scrubby paper to write on--excuse it. I am
certain that I sent some more notes on Spain and Portugal, particularly
one on the latter. Pray rummage, and don't mind my _politics_. I believe
I leave town next week. Are you better? I hope so.
Yours ever,
B.
[Footnote 1: Dallas's answer is dated December 14, 1811]
* * * * *
217.--To William Harness.
8, St. James's Street, Dec. 15, 1811.
I wrote you an answer to your last, which, on reflection, pleases me as
little as it probably has pleased yourself. I will not wait for your
rejoinder; but proceed to tell you, that I had just then been greeted
with an epistle of * *'s, full of his petty grievances, and this at the
moment when (from circumstances it is not necessary to enter upon) I was
bearing up against recollections to which _his_ imaginary sufferings are
as a scratch to a cancer. These things combined, put me out of humour
with him and all mankind. The latter part of my life has been a
perpetual struggle against affections which embittered the earliest
portion; and though I flatter myself I have in a great measure conquered
them, yet there are moments (and this was one) when I am as foolish as
formerly. I never said so much before, nor had I said this now, if I did
not suspect myself of having been rather savage in my letter, and wish
to inform you this much of the cause. You know I am not one of your
dolorous gentlemen: so now let us laugh again.
Yesterday I went with Moore to Sydenham to visit Campbell [1]. He was
not visible, so we jogged homeward merrily enough. To-morrow I dine with
Rogers, and am to hear Coleridge, who is a kind of rage at present. Last
night I saw Kemble in Coriolanus [2];--he _was glorious_, and exerted
himself wonderfully. By good luck I got an excellent place in the best
part of the house, which was more than overflowing. Clare [3] and
Delawarr [4], who were there on the same speculation, were less
fortunate. I saw them by accident,--we were not together. I wished for
you, to gratify your love of Shakspeare and of fine acting to its
fullest extent. Last week I saw an exhibition of a different kind in a
Mr. Coates, [5] at the Haymarket, who performed Lothario in a _damned_
and damnable manner.
I told you the fate of B[land] and H[odgson] in my last. So much for
these sentimentalists, who console themselves in their stews for the
loss--the never to be recovered loss--the despair of the refined
attachment of a couple of drabs! You censure _my_ life, Harness,--when I
compare myself with these men, my elders and my betters, I really begin
to conceive myself a monument of prudence--a walking statue--without
feeling or failing; and yet the world in general hath given me a proud
pre-eminence over them in profligacy. Yet I like the men, and, God
knows, ought not to condemn their aberrations. But I own I feel provoked
when they dignify all this by the name of _love_--romantic attachments
for things marketable for a dollar!
Dec. 16th.--I have just received your letter;--I feel your kindness very
deeply. The foregoing part of my letter, written yesterday, will, I
hope, account for the tone of the former, though it cannot excuse it. I
do _like_ to hear from you--more than _like_. Next to seeing you, I have
no greater satisfaction. But you have other duties, and greater
pleasures, and I should regret to take a moment from either. H * * was
to call to-day, but I have not seen him. The circumstances you mention
at the close of your letter is another proof in favour of my opinion of
mankind. Such you will always find them--selfish and distrustful. I
except none. The cause of this is the state of society. In the world,
every one is to stir for himself--it is useless, perhaps selfish, to
expect any thing from his neighbour. But I do not think we are born of
this disposition; for you find _friendship_ as a schoolboy, and _love_
enough before twenty.
I went to see * *; he keeps me in town, where I don't wish to be at
present. He is a good man, but totally without conduct. And now, my
dearest William, I must wish you good morrow, and remain ever,
Most sincerely and affectionately yours, etc.
[Footnote 1: Campbell lived at Sydenham from 1804 to 1820. Moore (Life,
p. 148) adds the following note:
"On this occasion, another of the noble poet's peculiarities was,
somewhat startlingly, introduced to my notice. When we were on the
point of setting out from his lodgings in St. James's Street, it being
then about midday, he said to the servant, who was shutting the door
of the 'vis-a-vis', 'Have you put in the pistols?' and was answered in
the affirmative. It was difficult,--more especially taking into
account the circumstances under which we had just become acquainted,--
to keep from smiling at this singular noonday precaution."]
[Footnote 2: On December 14, 1811, at Covent Garden, Kemble acted
"Coriolanus" with Mrs. Siddons as "Volumnia." It was Kemble's great
part, and in it he made his last appearance on the stage (June 23,
1817).]
[Footnote 3: For Lord Clare, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 116, 'note' 1
[Footnote 1 of Letter 65.]]
[Footnote 4: For Lord Delawarr, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 41, note 1
[Footnote 5 of Letter 13.]]
[Footnote 5: Robert Coates, "the Amateur of Fashion," known as "Romeo"
Coates, sometimes as "Diamond" Coates, sometimes as "Cock-a-doodle-doo"
Coates (1772-1848), was the only surviving son of a wealthy West Indian
planter. He made his first appearance on the stage at Bath (February 9,
1810), as "Romeo." In the play-bill he was announced as "a Gentleman,
1st Appearance on any stage." Genest ('English Stage', vol. viii. p.
207) says,
"Many gentlemen have been weak enough to fancy themselves actors, but
no one ever persevered in obtruding himself for so long a time on the
notice of the public in spite of laughter, hissing, etc."
On December 9, 1811, he appeared at the Haymarket as "Lothario" in
Rowe's 'Fair Penitent'. Mathews, at Covent Garden, imitated his
performance, in Bate Dudley's 'At Home', as "Mr. Romeo Rantall,"
appearing in the
"pink silk vest and cloak, white satin breeches and stockings, Spanish
hat, with a rich high plume of ostrich feathers," in which Coates had
played "Lothario"
'Memoirs of Charles Mathews', (vol. ii. pp. 238, 239).]
* * * * *
218.--To Robert Rushton. [1]
8, St. James's Street, Jan. 21, 1812.
Though I have no objection to your refusal to carry _letters_ to
Mealey's, you will take care that the letters are taken by _Spero_ at
the proper time. I have also to observe, that Susan is to be treated
with civility, and not _insulted_ by any person over whom I have the
smallest controul, or, indeed, by any one whatever, while I have the
power to protect her. I am truly sorry to have any subject of complaint
against _you_; I have too good an opinion of you to think I shall have
occasion to repeat it, after the care I have taken of you, and my
favourable intentions in your behalf. I see no occasion for any
communication whatever between _you_ and the _women_, and wish you to
occupy yourself in preparing for the situation in which you will be
placed. If a common sense of decency cannot prevent you from conducting
yourself towards them with rudeness, I should at least hope that your
_own interest_, and regard for a master who has _never_ treated you with
unkindness, will have some weight.
Yours, etc., BYRON.
P.S.--I wish you to attend to your arithmetic, to occupy yourself in
surveying, measuring, and making yourself acquainted with every
particular relative to the _land_ of Newstead, and you will _write_ to
me _one letter every week_, that I may know how you go on.
[Footnote 1: The two following letters, and a suppressed passage in the
letter to Moore of January 29, 1812, refer to a quarrel among his
dependents, in which Rushton, the "little page" of Childe Harold (see
'Letters', vol. i. pp. 224, 242), played a part. The story is told at
considerable length in a letter to Hodgson, dated January 28, 1812. To
the same affair probably belong the following scrap and Byron's note:
"Pray don't forget me, as I shall never cease thinking of you, my
Dearest 'and only Friend, (signed) S. H. V.'"
To this Byron has added this note:
"This was written on the 11th of January, 1812; on the 28th I received
ample proof that the Girl had forgotten _me_ and _herself_ too.
Heigho! B."
The letters show, writes Moore ('Life', p. 152),
"how gravely and coolly the young lord could arbitrate on such an
occasion, and with what considerate leaning towards the servant whose
fidelity he had proved, in preference to any new liking or fancy by
which it might be suspected he was actuated toward the other."
In a MS. book written by Mrs. Heath of Newstead ('nee' Rebekah
Beardall), it is stated that the elder Rushton had as his farm-servant
Fletcher, afterwards Byron's valet. Byron watched Fletcher and young
Robert Rushton ploughing, took a fancy to both, and engaged them as his
servants. Rushton accompanied Byron to Geneva, but afterwards entered
the service of James Wedderburn Webster (see p. 2, 'note' 1). In 1827 he
married a woman of the name of Bagnall, and with her help kept a school
at Arnold, near Nottingham. Subsequently he took a farm on the Newstead
estate, named Hazelford, and shortly afterwards died, leaving a widow
and three children.]
* * * * *
219.--To Robert Rushton.
8, St. James's Street, January 25, 1812.
Your refusal to carry the letter was not a subject of remonstrance: it
was not a part of your business; but the language you used to the girl
was (as _she_ stated it) highly improper.
You say, that you also have something to complain of; then state it to
me immediately: it would be very unfair, and very contrary to my
disposition, not to hear both sides of the question.
If any thing has passed between you _before_ or since my last visit to
Newstead, do not be afraid to mention it. I am sure _you_ would not
deceive me, though _she_ would. Whatever it is, _you_, shall be
forgiven. I have not been without some suspicions on the subject, and am
certain that, at your time of life, the blame could not attach to you.
You will not _consult_, any one as to your answer, but write to me
immediately. I shall be more ready to hear what you have to advance, as
I do not remember ever to have heard a word from you before _against_,
any human being, which convinces me you would not maliciously assert an
untruth. There is not any one who can do the least injury to you, while
you conduct yourself properly. I shall expect your answer immediately.
Yours, etc.,
BYRON.
* * * * *
220.--To Thomas Moore.
January 29, 1812.
My Dear Moore,--I wish very much I could have seen you; I am in a state
of ludicrous tribulation.***
Why do you say that I dislike your poesy [1]? I have expressed no such
opinion, either in _print_ or elsewhere. In scribbling myself, it was
necessary for me to find fault, and I fixed upon the trite charge of
immorality, because I could discover no other, and was so perfectly
qualified in the innocence of my heart, to "pluck that mote from my
neighbour's eye."
I feel very, very much obliged by your approbation; but, at _this
moment_, praise, even _your_ praise, passes by me like "the idle wind."
I meant and mean to send you a copy the moment of publication; but now I
can think of nothing but damned, deceitful,--delightful woman, as Mr.
Liston says in the 'Knight of Snowdon' [2]? Believe me, my dear Moore,
Ever yours, most affectionately, BYRON.
[Footnote: 1. Of Moore's early poems Byron was an admirer. The influence
of "Little" and "Anacreon" is strongly marked throughout 'Hours of
Idleness'. For the "trite charge of immorality," see 'English Bards,
etc.', lines 283-294; and 'Letters', vol. i. p. 113. Byron's opinion of
Moore's later poetry was thus stated by him to Lady Blessington
('Conversations', pp. 354, 355):
"Having compared Rogers's poems to a flower-garden, to what shall I
compare Moore's?--to the Valley of Diamonds, where all is brilliant
and attractive, but where one is so dazzled by the sparkling on every
side that one knows not where to fix, each gem beautiful in itself,
but overpowering to the eye from their quantity."]
[Footnote 2: 'The Knight of Snowdoun', a musical drama, written by
Thomas Morton (1764-1838), and founded on 'The Lady of the Lake', was
produced at Covent Garden, Feb. 5, 1811, and published the same year.
John Liston (1776-1846), the most famous comedian of the century, played
the part of "Macloon," his wife that of "Isabel." In act iii. sc. 3
Macloon says,
"Oh, woman! woman! deceitful, damnable, (_changing into a half-smile_)
delightful woman! do all one can, there's nothing else worth thinking
of."]
* * * * *
221.--To Francis Hodgson.
8, St. James's Street, Feb. 1, 1812.
MY DEAR HODGSON,-I am rather unwell with a vile cold, caught in the
House of Lords last night. Lord Sligo and myself, being tired, _paired
off_, being of opposite sides, so that nothing was gained or lost by
_our_ votes. I did not speak: but I might as well, for nothing could
have been inferior to the Duke of Devonshire, Marquis of Downshire, and
the Earl of Fitzwilliam. The Catholic Question comes on this month, and
perhaps I may then commence. I must "screw my courage to the
sticking-place," and we'll _not_ fail.
Yours ever, B.
* * * * *
222.--To Samuel Rogers.
February 4, 1812.
MY DEAR SIR,--With my best acknowledgments to Lord Holland [1], I have
to offer my perfect concurrence in the propriety of the question
previously to be put to ministers. If their answer is in the negative, I
shall, with his Lordship's approbation, give notice of a motion for a
Committee of Inquiry. I would also gladly avail myself of his most able
advice, and any information or documents with which he might be pleased
to intrust me, to bear me out in the statement of facts it may be
necessary to submit to the House.
From all that fell under my own observation during my Christmas visit to
Newstead, I feel convinced that, if _conciliatory_ measures are not very
soon adopted, the most unhappy consequences may be apprehended. [2]
Nightly outrage and daily depredation are already at their height; and
not only the masters of frames, who are obnoxious on account of their
occupation, but persons in no degree connected with the malecontents or
their oppressors, are liable to insult and pillage.
I am very much obliged to you for the trouble you have taken on my
account, and beg you to believe me,
Ever your obliged and sincere, etc.
[Footnote 1: For Lord Holland, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 184, 'note' 1
[Footnote 3 of Letter 94]. He was Recorder of Nottingham; hence his
special interest in the proposed legislation against frame-breaking.]
[Footnote 2: Owing to the state of trade, numbers of stocking-weavers
had lost work. The discontent thus produced was increased by the
introduction of a wide frame for the manufacture of gaiters and
stockings, which, it was supposed, would further diminish the demand for
manual labour. In November, 1811, organized bands of men began to break
into houses and destroy machinery. For several days no serious effort
was made to check the riots, which extended to a considerable distance
round Nottingham. But on November 14 the soldiers were called out.
Between that date and December 9, 900 cavalry and 1000 infantry were
sent to Nottingham; and, on January 8, 1812, these forces were increased
by two additional regiments. The rioters assumed the name of Luddites,
and their leader was known as General Lud. The name is said to have
originated in 1779, in a Leicestershire village, where a half-witted
lad, named Ned Lud, broke a stocking-frame in a fit of passion; hence
the common saying, when machinery was broken, that "Ned Lud" did it. A
Bill was introduced in the House of Commons (February 14) increasing the
severity of punishments for frame-breaking. On the second reading
(February 17) Sir Samuel Romilly strongly opposed the measure, which
passed its third reading (February 20) without a division. The Bill, as
introduced into the Upper House by Lord Liverpool,
(1) rendered the offence of frame-breaking punishable by death; and
(2) compelled persons in whose houses the frames were broken to give
information to the magistrates.
On the second reading of the Bill (February 27, 1812), Byron spoke
against it in his first speech in the House of Lords (see Appendix II.
(i)). The Bill passed its third reading on March 5, and became law as 52
Geo. III. c. 16. Byron did not confine his opposition to a speech in the
House of Lords. He also addressed "An Ode to the Framers of the Frame
Bill," which appeared in the 'Morning Chronicle' on Monday, March 2,
1812. The following letter to Perry, the editor, is published by
permission of Messrs. Ellis and Elvey, in whose possession is the
original:
"Sir,--I take the liberty of sending an alteration of the two last
lines of Stanza 2'd which I wish to run as follows,
"'Gibbets on Sherwood will _heighten_ the Scenery
Shewing how Commerce, _how_ Liberty thrives!'
"I wish you could insert it tomorrow for a particular reason; but I
feel much obliged by your inserting it at all. Of course, do not put
_my name_ to the thing. Believe me, Your obliged and very obed't
Serv't, BYRON.
"8, St. James Street, Sunday, March 1st, 1812."]
* * * * *
223.--To Master John Cowell. [1]
8, St. James's Street, February 12, 1812.
MY DEAR JOHN,--You have probably long ago forgotten the writer of these
lines, who would, perhaps, be unable to recognize _yourself_, from the
difference which must naturally have taken place in your stature and
appearance since he saw you last. I have been rambling through Portugal,
Spain, Greece, etc., etc., for some years, and have found so many
changes on my return, that it would be very unfair not to expect that
you should have had your share of alteration and improvement with the
rest. I write to request a favour of you: a little boy of eleven years,
the son of Mr. **, my particular friend, is about to become an Etonian,
and I should esteem any act of protection or kindness to him as an
obligation to myself: let me beg of you then to take some little notice
of him at first, till he is able to shift for himself.
I was happy to hear a very favourable account of you from a schoolfellow
a few weeks ago, and should be glad to learn that your family are as
well as I wish them to be. I presume you are in the upper school;--as an
_Etonian_, you will look down upon a _Harrow_ man; but I never, even in
my boyish days, disputed your superiority, which I once experienced in a
cricket match, where I had the honour of making one of eleven, who were
beaten to their hearts' content by your college in _one innings_. [2]
Believe me to be, with great truth, etc., etc.,
B.
[Footnote 1:
"Breakfasted with Mr. Cowell," writes Moore, in his Diary, June 11,
1828, "having made his acquaintance for the purpose of gaining
information about Lord Byron. Knew Byron for the first time when he
himself was a little boy, from being in the habit of playing with B.'s
dogs. Byron wrote to him to school to bid him mind his prosody. Gave
me two or three of his letters to him. Saw a good deal of B. at
Hastings; mentioned the anecdote about the ink-bottle striking one of
the lead Muses. These Muses had been brought from Holland; and there
were, I think, only eight of them arrived safe. Fletcher had brought
B. a large jar of ink, and, not thinking it was full, B. had thrust
his pen down to the very bottom; his anger at finding it come out all
besmeared with ink made him chuck the jar out of the window, when it
knocked down one of the Muses in the garden, and deluged her with ink.
In 1813, when B. was at Salt Hill, he had Cowell over from Eton, and
'pouched' him no less than ten pounds. Cowell has ever since kept one
of the notes. Told me a curious anecdote of Byron's mentioning to him,
as if it had made a great impression on him, their seeing Shelley (as
they thought) walking into a little wood at Lerici, when it was
discovered afterwards that Shelley was at that time in quite another
direction. 'This,' said Byron, in a sort of awe-struck voice, 'was
about ten days before his death.' Cowell's imitation of his look and
manner very striking. Thinks that in Byron's speech to Fletcher, when
he was dying, threatening to appear to him, there was a touch of that
humour and fun which he was accustomed to mix up with everything".
('Memoirs, Journals, etc'., vol. v. pp. 302, 303).]
[Footnote 2: See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 70, and 'note' 1 [Footnote 2 of
Letter 30.]]
* * * * *
224.--To Francis Hodgson.
8, St. James's Street, February 16, 1812.
Dear Hodgson,--I send you a proof. Last week I was very ill and confined
to bed with stone in the kidney, but I am now quite recovered. The women
are gone to their relatives, after many attempts to explain what was
already too clear. If the stone had got into my heart instead of my
kidneys, it would have been all the better. However, I have quite
recovered _that_ also, and only wonder at my folly in excepting my own
strumpets from the general corruption,--albeit a two months' weakness is
better than ten years. I have one request to make, which is, never
mention a woman again in any letter to me, or even allude to the
existence of the sex. I won't even read a word of the feminine
gender;--it must all be 'propria quae maribus'.
In the spring of 1813 I shall leave England for ever. Every thing in my
affairs tends to this, and my inclinations and health do not discourage
it. Neither my habits nor constitution are improved by your customs or
your climate. I shall find employment in making myself a good Oriental
scholar. I shall retain a mansion in one of the fairest islands, and
retrace, at intervals, the most interesting portions of the East. In the
mean time, I am adjusting my concerns, which will (when arranged) leave
me with wealth sufficient even for home, but enough for a principality
in Turkey. At present they are involved, but I hope, by taking some
necessary but unpleasant steps, to clear every thing. Hobhouse is
expected daily in London: we shall be very glad to see him; and,
perhaps, you will come up and "drink deep ere he depart," if not,
"Mahomet must go to the mountain;" [1]--but Cambridge will bring sad
recollections to him, and worse to me, though for very different
reasons. I believe the only human being, that ever loved me in truth and
entirely, was of, or belonging to, Cambridge, and, in that, no change
can now take place. There is one consolation in death--where he sets his
seal, the impression can neither be melted nor broken, but endureth for
ever.
Yours always,
B.
P.S.--I almost rejoice when one I love dies young, for I could never
bear to see them old or altered.
[Footnote 1: See Bacon's 'Essays' ("Of Boldness"):
"Mahomet made the people believe that he would call a hill to him, and
from the top of it offer up his prayers for the observers of his law.
The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again
and again; and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed,
but said, 'If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to
the hill.'"]
* * * * *
225.--To Francis Hodgson.
London, February 21, 1812.
My Dear Hodgson,--There is a book entituled _Galt, his Travels in ye
Archipelago_, [1] daintily printed by Cadell and Davies, ye which I
could desiderate might be criticised by you, inasmuch as ye author is a
well-respected esquire of mine acquaintance, but I fear will meet with
little mercy as a writer, unless a friend passeth judgment. Truth to
say, ye boke is ye boke of a cock-brained man, and is full of devises
crude and conceitede, but peradventure for my sake this grace may be
vouchsafed unto him. Review him myself I can not, will not, and if you
are likewize hard of heart, woe unto ye boke! ye which is a comely
quarto.
Now then! I have no objection to review, if it pleases Griffiths [2] to
send books, or rather _you_, for you know the sort of things I like to
[play] with. You will find what I say very serious as to my intentions.
I have every reason to induce me to return to Ionia.
Believe me, yours always,
B.
[Footnote 1: John Galt (1779-1839) published in 1812 his 'Voyages and
Travels in the Years 1809, 1810, and 1811'. For his meeting with Byron
at Gibraltar in 1809, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 243, 'note' 1 [Footnote
1 of Letter 130]; see also 'ibid.', p. 304, 'note' 2 [Footnote 2 of
Letter 131]. Galt's novels were, in later years, liked by Byron, who
"praised the 'Annals of the Parish' very highly, as also 'The
Entail' ... some scenes of which, he said, had affected him very much.
'The characters in Mr. Galt's novels have an identity,' added Byron,
'that reminds me of Wilkie's pictures'"
(Lady Blessington's 'Conversations with Lord Byron', p. 74).
"When I knew Galt, years ago," said Byron to Lady Blessington, "I was
not in a frame of mind to form an impartial opinion of him: his mildness
and equanimity struck me even then; but, to say the truth, his manner
had not deference enough for my then aristocratical taste, and finding I
could not awe him into a respect sufficiently profound for my sublime
self, either as a peer or an author, I felt a little grudge towards him
that has now completely worn off," etc., etc.
('ibid.', p. 249).]
[Footnote 2: George Edward Griffiths (circ. 1769-1829), son of Ralph
Griffiths, who founded, owned, and published the 'Monthly Review', and
boarded and lodged Oliver Goldsmith as a contributor, succeeded to the
management of the 'Review' on the death of his father in 1803. He edited
it till 1825, when he sold the property. He lived at Linden House,
Turnham Green. Francis Hodgson wrote for the 'Monthly Review', and,
March 2, 1814, he writes to Byron,
"I have already read a review of Safie in the 'British Critic', and
will undertake it in the 'Monthly' if Griffiths, with whom I am in
very bad odour from my late shameful idleness, will allow me. Oh that
you would write a good smart critique of something to get both
'yourself and me' in high repute at Turnham Green!!!!"
In Byron's 'Detached Thoughts' occurs the following passage:
"I have been a reviewer. In the 'Monthly Review' I wrote some articles
which were inserted. This was in the latter part of 1811. In 1807, in
a Magazine called 'Monthly Literary Recreations', I reviewed
Wordsworth's trash of that time.
"Excepting these, I cannot accuse myself of anonymous Criticism (that
I recollect), though I have been 'offered' more than one review in our
principal Journals."
In the Bodleian Library is a copy of the 'Monthly Review', in which
Griffiths has entered the initials of the authors of each article. Two
articles from the 'Review', attributed to Byron on this authority, are
given in Appendix I.]
* * * * *
226.--To Lord Holland.
8, St. James's Street, February 25, 1812.
MY LORD,--With my best thanks, I have the honour to return the Notts,
letter to your Lordship. I have read it with attention, but do not think
I shall venture to avail myself of its contents, as my view of the
question differs in some measure from Mr. Coldham's. I hope I do not
wrong him, but _his_ objections to the bill appear to me to be founded
on certain apprehensions that he and his coadjutors might be mistaken
for the "_original advisers_" (to quote him) of the measure. For my own
part, I consider the manufacturers as a much injured body of men,
sacrificed to the views of certain individuals who have enriched
themselves by those practices which have deprived the frame-workers of
employment. For instance;--by the adoption of a certain kind of frame,
one man performs the work of seven--six are thus thrown out of business.
But it is to be observed that the work thus done is far inferior in
quality, hardly marketable at home, and hurried over with a view to
exportation. Surely, my Lord, however we may rejoice in any improvement
in the arts which may be beneficial to mankind, we must not allow
mankind to be sacrificed to improvements in mechanism. The maintenance
and well-doing of the industrious poor is an object of greater
consequence to the community than the enrichment of a few monopolists by
any improvement in the implements of trade, which deprives the workman
of his bread, and renders the labourer "unworthy of his hire."
My own motive for opposing the bill is founded on its palpable
injustice, and its certain inefficacy. I have seen the state of these
miserable men, and it is a disgrace to a civilized country. Their
excesses may be condemned, but cannot be subject of wonder. The effect
of the present bill would be to drive them into actual rebellion. The
few words I shall venture to offer on Thursday will be founded upon
these opinions formed from my own observations on the spot. By previous
inquiry, I am convinced these men would have been restored to
employment, and the county to tranquillity. It is, perhaps, not yet too
late, and is surely worth the trial. It can never be too late to employ
force in such circumstances. I believe your Lordship does not coincide
with me entirely on this subject, and most cheerfully and sincerely
shall I submit to your superior judgment and experience, and take some
other line of argument against the bill, or be silent altogether, should
you deem it more advisable. Condemning, as every one must condemn, the
conduct of these wretches, I believe in the existence of grievances
which call rather for pity than punishment. I have the honour to be,
with great respect, my Lord, your Lordship's
Most obedient and obliged servant,
BYRON.
P.S.--I am a little apprehensive that your Lordship will think me too
lenient towards these men, and half a _frame-breaker myself_.
* * * * *
227.--To Francis Hodgson.
8, St. James's Street, March 5, 1812.
MY DEAR HODGSON,--_We_ are not answerable for reports of speeches in the
papers; they are always given incorrectly, and on this occasion more so
than usual, from the debate in the Commons on the same night. The
_Morning Post_ should have said _eighteen years_. However, you will find
the speech, as spoken, in the Parliamentary Register, when it comes out.
Lords Holland and Grenville, particularly the latter, paid me some high
compliments in the course of their speeches, as you may have seen in the
papers, and Lords Eldon and Harrowby answered me. I have had many
marvellous eulogies [1] repeated to me since, in person and by proxy,
from divers persons _ministerial_--yea, _ministerial!_--as well as
oppositionists; of them I shall only mention Sir F. Burdett. _He_ says
it is the best speech by a _lord_ since the "_Lord_ knows when,"
probably from a fellow-feeling in the sentiments. Lord H. tells me I
shall beat them all if I persevere; and Lord G. remarked that the
construction of some of my periods are very like _Burke's!!_ And so much
for vanity. I spoke very violent sentences with a sort of modest
impudence, abused every thing and every body, and put the Lord
Chancellor very much out of humour: and if I may believe what I hear,
have not lost any character by the experiment. As to my delivery, loud
and fluent enough, perhaps a little theatrical. I could not recognize
myself or any one else in the newspapers [2].
I hire myself unto Griffiths, and my poesy [3] comes out on Saturday.
Hobhouse is here; I shall tell him to write. My stone is gone for the
present, but I fear is part of my habit. We _all_ talk of a visit to
Cambridge.
Yours ever,
B.
[Footnote 1: For Byron's speech, February 27, 1812, see Appendix II.
(i).] Grenville said,
"There never was a maxim of greater wisdom than that uttered by the
noble lord [Byron] who had so ably addressed their lordships that
night for the first time"
('Hansard', vol. xxi. p. 977). Moore quotes a passage from Byron's
'Detached Thoughts':
"Sheridan's liking for me (whether he was not mystifying me I do not
know, but Lady Caroline Lamb and others told me that he said the same
both before and after he knew me) was founded upon 'English Bards, and
Scotch Reviewers'. He told me that he did not care about poetry (or
about mine--at least, any but 'that' poem of mine), but he was sure,
from 'that' and other symptoms, I should make an orator, if I would
but take to speaking, and grow a parliament man. He never ceased
harping upon this to me to the last; and I remember my old tutor, Dr.
Drury, had the same notion when I was a 'boy'; but it never was my
turn of inclination to try. I spoke once or twice, as all young peers
do, as a kind of introduction into public life; but dissipation,
shyness, haughty and reserved opinions, together with the short time I
lived in England after my majority (only about five years in all),
prevented me from resuming the experiment. As far as it went, it was
not discouraging, particularly my 'first' speech (I spoke three or
four times in all); but just after it, my poem of 'Childe Harold' was
published, and nobody ever thought about my 'prose' afterwards, nor
indeed did I; it became to me a secondary and neglected object, though
I sometimes wonder to myself if I should have succeeded."]
[Footnote 2: Byron, writing to John Hanson, February 28, 1812, says:
"Dear Sir,--In the report of my speech (which by the bye is given very
incorrectly) in the 'M[orning] Herald', 'Day', and 'B[ritish] Press',
they state that I mentioned 'Bristol', a place I never saw in my life
and knew nothing of whatever, nor 'mentioned' at all last night. Will
you be good enough to send to these 'papers' 'immediately', and have
the mistake corrected, or I shall get into a scrape with the Bristol
people?
"I am, yours very truly,
"B."]
[Footnote 3: 'Childe Harold', Cantos I., II.]
* * * * *
228.--To Lord Holland.
St. James's Street, March 5, 1812.
MY LORD,--May I request your Lordship to accept a copy of the thing
which accompanies this note [1]?
You have already so fully proved the truth of the first line of Pope's
couplet [2],
"Forgiveness to the injured doth belong,"
that I long for an opportunity to give the lie to the verse that
follows. If I were not perfectly convinced that any thing I may have
formerly uttered in the boyish rashness of my misplaced resentment had
made as little impression as it deserved to make, I should hardly have
the confidence--perhaps your Lordship may give it a stronger and more
appropriate appellation--to send you a quarto of the same scribbler. But
your Lordship, I am sorry to observe to-day, is troubled with the gout;
if my book can produce a _laugh_ against itself or the author, it will
be of some service. If it can set you to _sleep_, the benefit will be
yet greater; and as some facetious personage observed half a century
ago, that "poetry is a mere drug," [3]
I offer you mine as a humble assistant to the _eau medicinale_. I trust
you will forgive this and all my other buffooneries, and believe me to
be, with great respect,
Your Lordship's obliged and sincere servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: 'Childe Harold' was published March 1, 1812. Another copy
of 'Childe Harold' was sent to Mrs. Leigh, with the following
inscription:
"To Augusta, my dearest sister, and my best friend, who has ever loved
me much better than I deserved, this volume is presented by her
_father's_ son, and most affectionate brother, B."
The effect which the poem instantly produced is best expressed in
Byron's own memorandum:
"I awoke one morning and found myself famous."
He was only just twenty-three years old.
"The subject," says Elizabeth, Duchess of Devonshire ('Two Duchesses',
pp. 375, 376), "of conversation, of curiosity, of enthusiasm almost,
one might say, of the moment is not Spain or Portugal, Warriors or
Patriots, but Lord Byron!" "He returned," she continues, "sorry for
the severity of some of his lines (in the 'English Bards'), and with a
new poem, 'Childe Harold', which he published. This poem is on every
table, and himself courted, visited, flattered, and praised whenever
he appears. He has a pale, sickly, but handsome countenance, a bad
figure, and, in short, he is really the only topic almost of every
conversation--the men jealous of him, the women of each other."
"Lord Byron," writes Lady Harriet Leveson Gower to the Duke of
Devonshire, May 10, 1812 ('Letters of Harriet, Countess Granville',
vol. i. p. 34), "is still upon a pedestal, and Caroline William doing
homage. I have made acquaintance with him. He is agreeable, but I feel
no wish for any further intimacy. His countenance is fine when it is
in repose; but the moment it is in play, suspicious, malignant, and
consequently repulsive. His manner is either remarkably gracious and
conciliatory, with a tinge of affectation, or irritable and impetuous,
and then, I am afraid, perfectly natural."
Rogers ('Recollections of the Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers', pp. 232,
233) says,
"After Byron had become the 'rage', I was frequently amused at
the manoeuvres of certain noble ladies to get acquainted with him by
means of me; for instance, I would receive a note from Lady----,
requesting the pleasure of my company on a particular evening, with a
postscript, 'Pray, could you not contrive to bring Lord Byron with
you?' Once, at a great party given by Lady Jersey, Mrs. Sheridan ran
up to me and said, 'Do, as a favour, try if you can place Lord Byron
beside me at supper!'"]
[Footnote 2:
"Forgiveness to the injured does belong,
But they ne'er pardon, who have done the wrong."
Dryden's 'Conquest of Grenada', part ii. act i. sc. 2.]
[Footnote 3: Murphy, in sc. 1 of 'The Way to Keep Him' (1760), uses the
word in the same sense;
"A wife's a drug now; mere tar-water, with every virtue under heaven,
but nobody takes it."]
* * * * *
CHAPTER VI.
MARCH, 1812--MAY, 1813.
THE IDOL OF SOCIETY--THE DRURY LANE ADDRESS--SECOND SPEECH IN PARLIAMENT.
* * * * *
229.--To Thomas Moore.
With regard to the passage on Mr. Way's loss, no unfair play was hinted
at, as may be seen by referring to the book [1]; and it is expressly
added that the managers _were ignorant_ of that transaction. As to the
prevalence of play at the Argyle, it cannot be denied that there were
_billiards_ and _dice_;--Lord B. has been a witness to the use of both
at the Argyle Rooms. These, it is presumed, come under the denomination
of play. If play be allowed, the President of the Institution can hardly
complain of being termed the "Arbiter of Play,"--or what becomes of his
authority?
Lord B. has no personal animosity to Colonel Greville. A public
institution, to which he himself was a subscriber, he considered himself
to have a right to notice _publickly_. Of that institution Colonel
Greville was the avowed director;--it is too late to enter into the
discussion of its merits or demerits.
Lord B. must leave the discussion of the reparation, for the real or
supposed injury, to Colonel G.'s friend and Mr. Moore, the friend of
Lord B.--begging them to recollect that, while they consider Colonel
G.'s honour, Lord B. must also maintain his own. If the business can be
settled amicably, Lord B. will do as much as can and ought to be done by
a man of honour towards conciliation;--if not, he must satisfy Colonel
G. in the manner most conducive to his further wishes.
[Footnote 1: Byron, in 'English Bards, etc.' (lines 638-667), had
alluded to Colonel Greville, Manager of the Argyle Institution:
"Or hail at once the patron and the pile
Of vice and folly, Greville and Argyle," etc.
In a note he had also referred to "Billy" Way's loss of several thousand
pounds in the Rooms. On his return from abroad, Colonel Greville
demanded satisfaction through his friend Gould Francis Leckie. Byron
referred Leckie to Moore, and sent Moore the above paper for his
guidance. The affair was amicably settled.
In his 'Detached Thoughts' occurs the following passage:--
"I have been called in as mediator, or second, at least twenty times,
in violent quarrels, and have always contrived to settle the business
without compromising the honour of the parties, or leading them to
mortal consequences, and this, too, sometimes in very difficult and
delicate circumstances, and having to deal with very hot and haughty
spirits,--Irishmen, gamesters, guardsmen, captains, and cornets of
horse, and the like. This was, of course, in my youth, when I lived in
hot-headed company. I have had to carry challenges from gentlemen to
noblemen, from captains to captains, from lawyers to counsellors, and
once from a clergyman to an officer in the Life Guards; but I found
the latter by far the most difficult:
"'to compose
The bloody duel without blows,'
"the business being about a woman: I must add, too, that I never saw a
_woman_ behave so ill, like a cold-blooded, heartless b----as she
was,--but very handsome for all that. A certain Susan C----was she
called. I never saw her but once; and that was to induce her but to
say two words (which in no degree compromised herself), and which
would have had the effect of saving a priest or a lieutenant of
cavalry. She would _not_ say them, and neither Nepean nor myself [the
son of Sir Evan Nepean, and a friend to one of the parties] could
prevail upon her to say them, though both of us used to deal in some
sort with womankind. At last I managed to quiet the combatants without
her talisman, and, I believe, to her great disappointment: she was the
damnedest b----that I ever saw, and I have seen a great many. Though
my clergyman was sure to lose either his life or his living, he was as
warlike as the Bishop of Beauvais, and would hardly be pacified; but
then he was in love, and that is a martial passion."
One challenge from a gentleman to a nobleman was that of Scrope Davies
to Lord Foley, in 1813; but Byron succeeded in arranging the matter.
That from a lawyer to a counsellor was in 1815, from John Hanson to
Serjeant Best, afterwards Lord Wynford, and arose out of the marriage of
Miss Hanson to Lord Portsmouth; this quarrel was also settled by Byron.
The case of the clergyman was that of the Rev. Robert Bland, whose
mistress, during his absence in Holland, left him for an officer in the
Guards (see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 197, end of 'note' [Footnote 1 of
Letter 102] on Francis Hodgson). Byron was himself a fair shot with a
pistol.
"When in London," writes Gronow ('Reminiscences', vol. i. p. 152),
"Byron used to go to Manton's shooting-gallery, in Davies Street, to
try his hand, as he said, at a wafer. Wedderburn Webster was present
when the poet, intensely delighted with his own skill, boasted to Joe
Manton that he considered himself the best shot in London. 'No, my
lord,' replied Manton, 'not the best; but your shooting to-day was
respectable.' Whereupon Byron waxed wroth, and left the shop in a
violent passion."]
* * * * *
230.--To William Bankes.
My dear Bankes,--My eagerness to come to an explanation has, I trust,
convinced you that whatever my unlucky manner might inadvertently be,
the change was as unintentional as (if intended) it would have been
ungrateful. I really was not aware that, while we were together, I had
evinced such caprices; that we were not so much in each other's company
as I could have wished, I well know, but I think so _acute an observer_
as yourself must have perceived enough to _explain this_, without
supposing any slight to one in whose society I have pride and pleasure.
Recollect that I do not allude here to "extended" or "extending"
acquaintances, but to circumstances you will understand, I think, on a
little reflection.
And now, my dear Bankes, do not distress me by supposing that I can
think of you, or you of me, otherwise than I trust we have long thought.
You told me not long ago that my temper was improved, and I should be
sorry that opinion should be revoked. Believe me, your friendship is of
more account to me than all those absurd vanities in which, I fear, you
conceive me to take too much interest. I have never disputed your
superiority, or doubted (seriously) your good will, and no one shall
ever "make mischief between us" without the sincere regret on the part
of your ever affectionate, etc.
P.S.--I shall see you, I hope, at Lady Jersey's [1].
Hobhouse goes also.
[Footnote 1: George Child-Villiers (1773-1859), "in manners and
appearance 'le plus grand seigneur' of his time," succeeded his father,
"the Prince of Maccaronies," in 1805, as fifth Earl of Jersey. He was
twice Lord Chamberlain to William IV., and twice Master of the Horse to
Queen Victoria. He married, in 1804, Lady Sarah Sophia Fane, eldest
daughter of John, tenth Earl of Westmorland, and heiress, through her
mother, 'nee' Sarah Anne Child, of the fortune of her grandfather,
Robert Child, the banker.
Lady Jersey for many years reigned supreme, by her beauty and wit, in
London society,
"the veriest tyrant," said Byron, "that ever governed Fashion's fools,
and compelled them to shake their caps and bells as she willed it."
At Almack's, where, according to Gronow ('Reminiscences', vol. i. p.
32), she introduced the quadrille after Waterloo, she was a despot.
'Almack's', the very clever and personal picture of fashionable life,
published in 1826, is dedicated
"To that most Distinguished and Despotic Conclave, composed of their
High Mightinesses the Ladies Patronesses of the Balls at Almack's, the
Rulers of Fashion, the Arbiters of Taste, the Leaders of 'Ton',
and the Makers of Manners, whose Sovereign sway over 'the world' of
London has long been established on the firmest basis, whose Decrees
are Laws, and from whose judgment there is no appeal."
Over this "Willis Coalition Cabinet" Lady Jersey, as "Lady Hauton," is
described as reigning supreme.
"She knew more than any person I ever met with, and both everything
and everybody; she could quiz and she could flatter."
"Treat people like fools," she is supposed to say, "and they will
worship you; stoop to make up to them, and they will directly tread
you underfoot."
Ticknor ('Life', vol. i. p. 269) speaks of her as a "beautiful creature,
with a great deal of talent, taste, and elegant knowledge." He was at
Almack's, in 1819, and standing close to Lady Jersey, then at the height
of beauty and brilliant talent, a leader in society, and with decided
political opinions, when she refused the Duke of Wellington admittance.
The lady patronesses had made a rule to admit no one after eleven
o'clock. When the rule first came into operation, Ticknor heard one of
the attendants announce that the Duke of Wellington was at the door.
"What o'clock is it?" Lady Jersey asked. "Seven minutes after eleven,
your ladyship." She paused a moment, and then said, with emphasis and
distinctness, "Give my compliments,--give Lady Jersey's compliments to
the Duke of Wellington, and say that she is very glad that the first
enforcement of the rule of exclusion is such that hereafter no one can
complain of its application. He cannot be admitted"
('ibid'., vol. i. pp. 296, 297).
Politically, Lady Jersey was a power. Such an entry as the following
sounds strange to modern readers: Dining at Lord Holland's, in 1835, in
company with Lord Melbourne, Lord Grey, and other prominent politicians,
Ticknor notes that
"public business was much talked about--the corporation bill, the
motion for admitting Dissenters to the universities, etc., etc.; and
as to the last, when the question arose whether it would be debated on
Tuesday night, it was admitted to be doubtful whether Lady Jersey
would not succeed in getting it postponed, as she has a grand dinner
that evening"
('Life', vol. i. pp. 409, 410).
Lady Jersey, whose mother-in-law, 'nee' Frances Twyden, had
been a bitter opponent of the Princess of Wales, provoked the wrath
of the Regent by espousing the cause of his wife. The Prince
was determined to break off this friendship with his wife's champion,
and sent a letter to her by the hand of Colonel Willis, announcing
his determination. Some time later they met at a great party given
by Henry Hope in Cavendish Square. Lady Jersey was walking
with Rogers in the gallery, when they met the Prince, who
"stopped for a moment, and then, drawing himself up, marched past her
with a look of the utmost disdain. Lady Jersey returned the look to
the full; and, as soon as the Prince was gone, said to me, with a
smile, 'Didn't I do it well?'"
('Table Talk of Samuel Rogers', pp. 267, 268).
From this same change of feeling arose the incident which Byron
celebrated in his Condolatory Address "On the Occasion of the Prince
Regent Returning her Picture to Mrs. Mee." The lines were enclosed with
a letter which is printed at the date May 29, 1814. "Pegasus is,
perhaps, the only horse of whose paces," said Byron ('Conversations with
Lady Blessington', p. 51), "Lord [Jersey] could not be a judge." Of Lady
Jersey he says ('ibid'., p. 50),
"Of all that coterie, Madame [de Stael], after Lady [Jersey], was the
best; at least I thought so, for these two ladies were the only ones
who ventured to protect me when all London was crying out against me
on the separation, and they behaved courageously and kindly ... Poor
dear Lady [Jersey]! Does she still retain her beautiful cream-coloured
complexion and raven hair? I used to long to tell her that she spoiled
her looks by her excessive animation; for eyes, tongue, head, and arms
were all in movement at once, and were only relieved from their active
service by want of respiration," etc., etc.]
* * * * *
231.--To Thomas Moore.
March 25, 1812.
Know all men by these presents, that you, Thomas Moore, stand
indicted--no--invited, by special and particular solicitation, to Lady
Caroline Lamb's [1] tomorrow evening, at half-past nine o'clock, where
you will meet with a civil reception and decent entertainment. Pray,
come--I was so examined after you this morning, that I entreat you to
answer in person.
Believe me, etc.
[Footnote 1: Lady Caroline Lamb (1785-1828), the "Calantha Avondale" of
her own 'Glenarvon', was the daughter of Frederick Ponsonby, third Earl
of Bessborough, by his wife, Lady Henrietta Frances Spencer, sister of
Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. She was brought up, partly in Italy
under the care of a servant, partly by her grandmother, the wife of
John, first Earl Spencer. She married, June 3, 1805, William Lamb,
afterwards Lord Melbourne.
Her manuscript commonplace-book is in the possession of the Hon. G.
Ponsonby. A few pages are taken up with a printed copy of the 'Essay on
the Progressive Improvement of Mankind', with which her husband won the
declamation prize at Trinity, Cambridge, in 1798. The rest of the volume
consists of some 200 pages filled with prose, and verse, and sketches.
It begins with a list of her nicknames--"Sprite," "Young Savage,"
"Ariel," "Squirrel," etc. Then follow the secret language of an
imaginary order; her first verses, written at the age of thirteen;
scraps of poetry, original and extracted, in French, Italian, and
English; a long fragment of a wild romantic story of a girl's seduction
by an infidel nobleman. A clever sketch in water-colour of William Lamb
and of herself, after their marriage, is followed by verses on the birth
of her son, "little "Augustus," August 23, 1807. The last stanza of a
poem, which has nothing to commend it except the feelings of the wife
and mother which it expresses, runs thus:
"His little eyes like William's shine;
How great is then my joy,
For, while I call this darling mine,
I see 'tis William's boy!"
The most ambitious effort in the volume is a poem, illustrated with
pictures in water colours, such as 'L'Amour se cache sous le voile
d'Amitie, or l'Innocence le recoit dans ses bras'; a third, in the style
of Blake, bears the inscription 'le Desespoir met fin a ses jours'. The
poem opens with the following lines:
"Winged with Hope and hushed with Joy,
See yon wanton, blue-eyed Boy,--
Arch his smile, and keen his dart,--
Aim at Laura's youthful heart!
How could he his wiles disguise?
How deceive such watchful eyes?
How so pure a breast inspire,
Set so young a Mind on fire?
'Twas because to raise the flame
Love bethought of friendship's name.
Under this false guise he told her
That he lived but to behold her.
How could she his fault discover
When he often vowed to love her?
How could she her heart defend
When he took the name of friend?"
Dates are seldom affixed to the compositions, and it is impossible to
say whether any are autobiographical. But, taken as a whole, they reveal
a clever, romantic, impulsive, imaginative woman, whose pet names
describe at once the charm of her character and the fascination of her
small, slight figure, "golden hair, large hazel eyes," and low musical
voice.
Her marriage with William Lamb, June 3, seems to have been at first kept
secret. Lord Minto in August, 1805 ('Life and Letters', vol. iii. p.
361), speaks of her as unmarried, and adds that she is "a lively and
rather a pretty girl; they say she is very clever." Augustus Foster,
writing to his mother, Lady Elizabeth Foster, July 30, 1805 ('The Two
Duchesses', p. 233), says, "I cannot fancy Lady Caroline married. I
cannot be glad of it. How changed she must be--the delicate Ariel, the
little Fairy Queen become a wife and soon perhaps a mother." Lady
Elizabeth replies, September 30, 1805 ('ibid'., p. 242): "You may
retract all your sorrow about Caro Ponsonby's marriage, for she is the
same wild, delicate, odd, delightful person, unlike everything."
Lady Caroline and William Lamb are described by Lady Elizabeth, three
months later, as "flirting all day long 'e felice adesso'." The phrase,
perhaps, correctly expresses Lady Caroline's conception of love as an
episode; but no breach occurred till 1813. In the previous year, when
Byron had suddenly risen to the height of his fame, she had refused to
be introduced by Lady Westmorland to the man of whom she made the famous
entry in her Diary "mad, bad, and dangerous to know." But they met, a
few days later, at Holland House, and Byron called on her in Whitehall,
where for the next four months he was a daily visitor. On blue-bordered
paper, embossed at the corners with scallop-shells, she wrote to Byron
at an early stage in their acquaintance, the letter numbered 1 in
Appendix III.
For the sequel to the story of their friendship, see Byron's letter to
Lady Caroline, p. 135, 'note' 1, and Appendix III.]
* * * * *
232.--To Lady Caroline Lamb.
[Undated.]
I never supposed you artful: we are all selfish,--nature did that for
us. But even when you attempt deceit occasionally, you cannot maintain
it, which is all the better; want of success will curb the tendency.
Every word you utter, every line you write, proves you to be either
_sincere_ or a _fool_. Now as I know you are not the one, I must believe
you the other.
I never knew a woman with greater or more pleasing talents, _general_ as
in a woman they should be, something of everything, and too much of
nothing. But these are unfortunately coupled with a total want of common
conduct. [1] For instance, the _note_ to your _page_--do you suppose I
delivered it? or did you mean that I should? I did not of course.
Then your heart, my poor Caro (what a little volcano!), that pours
_lava_ through your veins; and yet I cannot wish it a bit colder, to
make a _marble slab_ of, as you sometimes see (to understand my foolish
metaphor) brought in vases, tables, etc., from Vesuvius, when hardened
after an eruption. To drop my detestable tropes and figures, you know I
have always thought you the cleverest, most agreeable, absurd, amiable,
perplexing, dangerous, fascinating little being that lives now, or ought
to have lived 2000 years ago. I won't talk to you of beauty; I am no
judge. But our beauties cease to be so when near you, and therefore you
have either some, or something better. And now, Caro, this nonsense is
the first and last compliment (if it be such) I ever paid you. You have
often reproached me as wanting in that respect; but others will make up
the deficiency.
Come to Lord Grey's; at least do not let me keep you away. All that you
so often _say_, I _feel_. Can more be said or felt? This same prudence
is tiresome enough; but one _must_ maintain it, or what _can_ one do to
be saved? Keep to it.
[Footnote 1: The following letter from Lady Caroline to Fletcher,
Byron's valet, illustrates the statement in the text:
"FLETCHER,--Will you come and see me here some evening at 9, and no
one will know of it. You may say you bring a letter, and wait the
answer. I will send for you in. But I will let you know first, for I
wish to speak with you. I also want you to take the little Foreign
Page I shall send in to see Lord Byron. Do not tell him before-hand,
but, when he comes with flowers, shew him in. I shall not come myself,
unless just before he goes away; so do not think it is me. Besides,
you will see this is quite a child, only I wish him to see my Lord if
you can contrive it, which, if you tell me what hour is most
convenient, will be very easy. I go out of Town to-morrow for a day or
two, and I am now quite well--at least much better."]
* * * * *
233.--To William Bankes.
April 20, 1812.
MY DEAR BANKES,--I feel rather hurt (not savagely) at the speech you
made to me last night, and my hope is that it was only one of your
_profane_ jests. I should be very sorry that any part of my behaviour
should give you cause to suppose that I think higher of myself, or
otherwise of you than I have always done. I can assure you that I am as
much the humblest of your servants as at Trin. Coll.; and if I have not
been at home when you favoured me with a call, the loss was more mine
than yours. In the bustle of buzzing parties, there is, there can be, no
rational conversation; but when I can enjoy it, there is nobody's I can
prefer to your own.
Believe me, ever faithfully and most affectionately yours,
BYRON.
* * * * *
234.--To Thomas Moore.
Friday noon.
I should have answered your note yesterday, but I hoped to have seen you
this morning. I must consult with you about the day we dine with Sir
Francis [1]. I suppose we shall meet at Lady Spencer's [2] to-night. I
did not know that you were at Miss Berry's [3] the other night, or I
should have certainly gone there.
As usual, I am in all sorts of scrapes, though none, at present, of a
martial description.
Believe me, etc.
[Footnote 1: Probably with Sir Francis Burdett, at 77, Piccadilly.]
[Footnote 2: Grandmother of Lady Caroline Lamb.]
[Footnote 3: Mary Berry (1763-1852), the friend and editor of Horace
Walpole, whom she might have married, lived at Little Strawberry Hill,
and in North Audley Street, London. In her Journal Miss Berry mentions
two occasions on which she met Byron. The first was Thursday, April 2,
1812, at Lord Glenbervie's.
"I had a quarter of an hour's conversation, which, I own, gave me a
great desire to know him better, and he seemed willing that I should
do so."
The second occasion was May 7, 1812.
"At the end of the evening I had half an hour's conversation with Lord
Byron, principally on the subject of the Scotch Review, with which he
is very much pleased. He is a singular man, and pleasant to me but I
very much fear that his head begins to be turned by all the adoration
of the world, especially the women"
('Journal and Correspondence of Miss Berry', vol. ii. pp. 496, 497).]
* * * * *
235.--To Lady Caroline Lamb.
May 1st, 1812.
MY DEAR LADY CAROLINE,-I have read over the few poems of Miss Milbank
[1] with attention. They display fancy, feeling, and a little practice
would very soon induce facility of expression. Though I have an
abhorrence of Blank Verse, I like the lines on Dermody [2] so much that
I wish they were in rhyme. The lines in the Cave at Seaham have a turn
of thought which I cannot sufficiently commend, and here I am at least
candid as my own opinions differ upon such subjects. The first stanza is
very good indeed, and the others, with a few slight alterations, might
be rendered equally excellent. The last are smooth and pretty. But these
are all, has she no others? She certainly is a very extraordinary girl;
who would imagine so much strength and variety of thought under that
placid Countenance? It is not necessary for Miss M. to be an authoress,
indeed I do not think publishing at all creditable either to men or
women, and (though you will not believe me) very often feel ashamed of
it myself; but I have no hesitation in saying that she has talents
which, were it proper or requisite to indulge, would have led to
distinction.
A friend of mine (fifty years old, and an author, but not _Rogers_) has
just been here. As there is no name to the MSS. I shewed them to him,
and he was much more enthusiastic in his praises than I have been. He
thinks them beautiful; I shall content myself with observing that they
are better, much better, than anything of Miss M.'s protegee ('sic')
Blacket. You will say as much of this to Miss M. as you think proper. I
say all this very sincerely. I have no desire to be better acquainted
with Miss Milbank; she is too good for a fallen spirit to know, and I
should like her more if she were less perfect. Believe me, yours ever
most truly,
B.
[Footnote 1: This letter refers to the future Lady Byron, the "Miss
Monmouth" of 'Glenarvon' (see vol. iii. p. 100), who was first brought
to Byron's notice by Lady Caroline Lamb. Anna Isabella (often shortened
into Annabella) Milbanke (born May 17, 1792; died May 16, 1860) was the
only child of Sir Ralph Milbanke, Bart., and the Hon. Judith Noel,
daughter of Lord Wentworth. Her childhood was passed at Halnaby, or at
Seaham, where her father had
"a pretty villa on the cliff." In 1808 Seaham "was the most primitive
hamlet ever met with--a dozen or so of cottages, no trade, no
manufacture, no business doing that we could see; the owners were
mostly servants of Sir Ralph Milbanke's"
('Memoirs of a Highland Lady', p. 71). It was here that Blacket the poet
(see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 314, 'note' 2; p. 6, 'note' 5, of the present
volume; and 'English Bards, etc'., line 770, and Byron's 'note') died,
befriended by Miss Milbanke.
Byron (Medwin's 'Conversations with Lord Byron', pp. 44, 45) thus
describes the personal appearance of his future wife:
"There was something piquant and what we term pretty in Miss Milbanke.
Her features were small and feminine, though not regular. She had the
fairest skin imaginable. Her figure was perfect for her height; and
there was a simplicity, a retired modesty, about her, which was very
characteristic, and formed a happy contrast to the cold, artificial
formality and studied stiffness which is called fashion."
The roundness of her face suggested to Byron the pet name of "Pippin."
High-principled, guided by a strong sense of duty, imbued with deep
religious feeling, Miss Milbanke lived to impress F. W. Robertson as
"the noblest woman he ever knew" ('Diary of Crabb Robinson' (1852), vol.
iii. p. 405). She was also a clever, well-read girl, fond of
mathematics, a student of theology and of Greek, a writer of meritorious
verse, which, however, Byron only allowed to be "good by accident"
(Medwin, p. 60). Among her mother's friends were Mrs. Siddons, Joanna
Baillie, and Maria Edgeworth. The latter, writing, May, 1813, to Miss
Ruxton, says, "Lady Milbanke is very agreeable, and has a charming,
well-informed daughter." With all her personal charms, virtues, and
mental gifts, she shows, in many of her letters, a precision, formality,
and self-complacency, which suggest the female pedant. Byron says of her
that "she was governed by what she called fixed rules and principles,
squared mathematically" (Medwin, p. 60); at one time he used to speak of
her as his "Princess of Parallelograms," and at a later period he called
her his "Mathematical Medea."
Before Miss Milbanke met Byron, she had a lover in Augustus Foster, son
of Lady Elizabeth Foster, afterwards Duchess of Devonshire. The duchess,
writing to her son, February 29, 1812, says that Mrs. George Lamb (?)
would sound Miss Milbanke as to her feelings:
"Caro means to see 'la bella' Annabelle before she writes to you
... I shall almost hate her if she is blind to the merits of one who
would make her so happy"
('The Two Duchesses', p. 358). Apparently Mr. Foster's love was not
returned.
"She persists in saying," writes the duchess, May 4, 1812 ('ibid'., p.
362), "that she never suspected your attachment to her; but she is so
odd a girl that, though she has for some time rather liked another,
she has decidedly refused them, because she thinks she ought to marry
a person with a good fortune; and this is partly, I believe, from
generosity to her parents, and partly owning that fortune is an object
to herself for happiness. In short, she is good, amiable, and
sensible, but cold, prudent, and reflecting. Lord Byron makes up to
her a little; but she don't seem to admire him except as a poet, nor
he her except for a wife."
Again, June 2, 1812, she says,
"Your Annabella is a mystery; liking, not liking; generous-minded, yet
afraid of poverty; there is no making her out. I hope you don't make
yourself unhappy about her; she is really an icicle."
Miss Milbanke's unaffected simplicity attracted Byron; even her coldness
was a charm. When he came to know her, he probably found her not only
agreeable, but the best woman he had ever met. Lady Melbourne, who knew
him most intimately, and was also Miss Milbanke's aunt, may well have
thought that, if her niece once gained control over Byron, her influence
would be the making of his character. She encouraged the match by every
means in her power. It is unnecessary to suppose that she did so to save
Lady Caroline Lamb; that danger was over. At some time before the autumn
of 1812, Byron proposed to Miss Milbanke, and was refused. He still,
however, continued to correspond with her, and his 'Journal' shows that
his affection for her was steadily growing during the years 1813-14. In
September, 1814, he proposed a second time, and was accepted.
Byron professed to believe (Medwin, p. 59) that Miss Milbanke was not in
love with him.
"I was the fashion when she first came out; I had the character of
being a great rake, and was a great dandy--both of which young ladies
like. She married me from vanity, and the hope of reforming and fixing
me."
Byron was not the man to unbosom himself to Medwin on such a subject.
Moore asked the same question--whether Lady Byron really loved Byron--of
Lady Holland, who
"seemed to think she must. He was such a loveable person. I remember
him (said she) sitting there with that light upon him, looking so
beautiful!'"
('Journals, etc.', vol. ii. p. 324). The letters that will follow seem
to show beyond all question that the marriage was one of true affection
on both sides.]
[Footnote 2: Thomas Dermody (1775-1802), a precocious Irish lad, whose
dissipated habits weakened his mind and body, published poems in 1792,
1800, and 1802. His collected verses appeared in 1807 under the title of
'The Harp of Erin', edited by J. G. Raymond, who had published the
previous year (1806) 'The Life of Thomas Dermody' in two volumes.]
* * * * *
236.--To Thomas Moore.
May 8, 1812.
I am too proud of being your friend, to care with whom I am linked in
your estimation, and, God knows, I want friends more at this time than
at any other. I am "taking care of myself" to no great purpose. If you
knew my situation in every point of view, you would excuse apparent and
unintentional neglect. I shall leave town, I think; but do not you leave
it without seeing me. I wish you, from my soul, every happiness you can
wish yourself; and I think you have taken the road to secure it. Peace
be with you! I fear she has abandoned me. Ever, etc.
* * * * *
237.--To Thomas Moore.
May 20, 1812.
On Monday, after sitting up all night, I saw Bellingham launched into
eternity [1], and at three the same day I saw * * * launched into the
country.
I believe, in the beginning of June, I shall be down for a few days in
Notts. If so, I shall beat you up 'en passant' with Hobhouse, who is
endeavouring, like you and every body else, to keep me out of scrapes.
I meant to have written you a long letter, but I find I cannot. If any
thing remarkable occurs, you will hear it from me--if good; if _bad_,
there are plenty to tell it. In the mean time, do you be happy.
Ever yours, etc.
P.S.--My best wishes and respects to Mrs. Moore;--she is beautiful. I
may say so even to you, for I was never more struck with a countenance.
[Footnote 1: Bellingham, while engaged in the timber trade at Archangel,
fancied himself wronged by the Russian Government, and the British
Ambassador at St. Petersburg, Lord G. Leveson-Gower. Returning to
England, he set up in Liverpool as an insurance broker, continuing to
press his claims against Russia on the Ministry without success. On May
11, 1812, he shot Spencer Perceval, First Lord of the Treasury and
Chancellor of the Exchequer, dead in the lobby of the House of Commons.
Bellingham was hanged before Newgate on May 18. Byron took a window,
says Moore ('Life', p. 164), to see the execution. He
"was accompanied on the occasion by his old schoolfellows, Mr. Bailey
and Mr. John Madocks. They went together from some assembly, and, on
their arriving at the spot, about three o'clock in the morning, not
finding the house that was to receive them open, Mr. Madocks undertook
to rouse the inmates, while Lord Byron and Mr. Bailey sauntered, arm
in arm, up the street. During this interval, rather a painful scene
occurred. Seeing an unfortunate woman lying on the steps of a door,
Lord Byron, with some expression of compassion, offered her a few
shillings; but, instead of accepting them, she violently pushed away
his hand, and, starting up with a yell of laughter, began to mimic the
lameness of his gait. He did not utter a word; but 'I could feel,'
said Mr. Bailey, 'his arm trembling within mine, as we left her.'"
In Byron's 'Detached Thoughts' is an anecdote of Baillie, whose name is
here misspelt by Moore:
"Baillie (commonly called 'Long' Baillie, a very clever man, but odd)
complained in riding, to our friend Scrope Davies, that he had a
'stitch' in his side. 'I don't wonder at it,' said Scrope, 'for you
ride like a _tailor_.' Whoever has seen B. on horseback, with his very
tall figure on a small nag, would not deny the justice of the
repartee."]
* * * * *
238.--To Bernard Barton [1].
8, St. James's St., June 1, 1812.
The most satisfactory answer to the concluding part of your letter is
that Mr. Murray will republish your volume, if you still retain your
inclination for the experiment, which I trust will be successful. Some
weeks ago my friend Mr. Rogers showed me some of the stanzas in MS., and
I then expressed my opinion of their merit, which a further perusal of
the printed volume has given me no reason to revoke. I mention this, as
it may not be disagreeable to you to learn that I entertained a very
favourable opinion of your powers, before I was aware that such
sentiments were reciprocal.
Waiving your obliging expressions as to my own productions, for which I
thank you very sincerely, and assure you that I think not lightly of the
praise of one whose approbation is valuable, will you allow me to talk
to you candidly, not critically, on the subject of yours? You will not
suspect me of a wish to discourage, since I pointed out to the publisher
the propriety of complying with your wishes. I think more highly of your
poetical talents than it would, perhaps, gratify you to hear expressed,
for I believe, from what I observe of your mind, that you are above
flattery. To come to the point, you deserve success, but we know, before
Addison wrote his Cato', that desert does not always command it. But,
suppose it attained:
"You know what ills the author's life assail,
Toil, envy, want, the patron and the jail." [2]
Do not renounce writing, but never trust entirely to authorship. If you
have a possession, retain it; it will be, like Prior's fellowship [3], a
last and sure resource. Compare Mr. Rogers with other authors of the
day; assuredly he is amongst the first of living poets, but is it to
that he owes his station in society, and his intimacy in the best
circles? No, it is to his prudence and respectability; the world (a bad
one, I own) courts him because he has no occasion to court it. He is a
poet, nor is he less so because he was something more. I am not sorry to
hear that you are not tempted by the vicinity of Capel Loft, Esq're.
[4], though, if he had done for you what he has done for the
Bloomfields, I should never have laughed at his rage for patronising.
But a truly constituted mind will ever be independent. That you may be
so is my sincere wish, and, if others think as well of your poetry as I
do, you will have no cause to complain of your readers.
Believe me, etc.
[Footnote 1: Bernard Barton (1784-1849), the friend of Charles Lamb, and
the Quaker poet, to whose 'Poems and Letters' (1849) Edward FitzGerald
prefixed a biographical introduction, published 'Metrical Effusions'
(1812), 'Poems by an Amateur' (1817), 'Poems' (1820), and several other
works. He was for many years a clerk in a bank at Woodbridge, in
Suffolk. Byron's advice to him was that of Lamb: "Keep to your bank, and
your bank will keep you." Two letters, written by him to Byron in 1814,
showing his admiration of the poet, and his appreciation of the
generosity of his character, and part of the draft of Byron's answer,
are given in Appendix IV.]
[Footnote 2:
"There mark what ills the scholar's life assail,--
Toil, envy, want, the patron and the jail."
Johnson's 'Vanity of Human Wishes', line 159.]
[Footnote 3: Matthew Prior (1664-1721) became a Fellow of St. John's
College, Cambridge, in 1688.]
[Footnote 4: For Capell Lofft and the Bloomfields, see 'Letters', vol.
i. p. 337, 'notes' I and 2 [Footnotes 4 and 5 of Letter 167.]]
* * * * *
239.--To Lord Holland.
June 25, 1812.
MY DEAR LORD,--I must appear very ungrateful, and have, indeed, been
very negligent, but till last night I was not apprised of Lady Holland's
restoration, and I shall call to-morrow to have the satisfaction, I
trust, of hearing that she is well.--I hope that neither politics nor
gout have assailed your Lordship since I last saw you, and that you also
are "as well as could be expected."
The other night, at a ball, I was presented by order to our gracious
Regent, who honoured me with some conversation, and professed a
predilection for poetry [1].--I confess it was a most unexpected honour,
and I thought of poor Brummell's [2] adventure, with some apprehension
of a similar blunder. I have now great hope, in the event of Mr. Pye's
[3] decease, of "warbling truth at court," like Mr. Mallet [4] of
indifferent memory.--Consider, one hundred marks a year! besides the
wine and the disgrace; but then remorse would make me drown myself in my
own butt before the year's end, or the finishing of my first
dithyrambic.--So that, after all, I shall not meditate our laureate's
death by pen or poison.
Will you present my best respects to Lady Holland? and believe me, hers
and yours very sincerely.
[Footnote 1: The ball was given in June, 1812, at Miss Johnson's (see
'Memoir of John Murray', vol. i. p. 212). In the words "predilection for
poetry" Byron probably refers to the phrase in the Regent's letter to
the Duke of York (February 13, 1812): "I have no predilections to
indulge, no resentments to gratify." Moore, in the 'Twopenny Post-bag',
twice fastens on the phrase. In "The Insurrection of the Papers", a
dream suggested by Lord Castlereagh's speech--"It would be impossible
for His Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating
pile of papers that encompassed it"--he writes:
"But, oh, the basest of defections!
His Letter about 'predilections'--
His own dear Letter, void of grace,
Now flew up in its parent's face!"
And again, in the "Parody of a Celebrated Letter":
"I am proud to declare I have no predilections,
My heart is a sieve, where some scatter'd affections
Are just danc'd about for a moment or two,
And the 'finer' they are, the more sure to run through."]
[Footnote 2: The grandfather of Beau Brummell, who was in business in
Bury Street, St. James's, also let lodgings. One of his lodgers, Charles
Jenkinson, afterwards Earl of Liverpool, obtained for his landlord's
son, William Brummell, a clerkship in the Treasury. The Treasury clerk
became so useful to Lord North that he obtained several lucrative
offices; and, dying in 1794, left L65,000 in the hands of trustees for
division among his three children. The youngest of these was George
Bryan Brummell (1788-1840), the celebrated Beau.
George Brummell went from Eton to Oriel College, Oxford, where his
undergraduate career is traced in "Trebeck," a character in Lister's
'Granby' (1826). From Oxford Brummell entered the Tenth Hussars, a
favourite regiment of the Prince of Wales. Well-built and well-mannered,
possessed of admirable tact, witty and original in conversation,
inexhaustible in good temper and good stories, a master of impudence and
banter, the new cornet made himself so agreeable to the prince that, at
the latter's marriage, Brummell attended him, both at St. James's and to
Windsor, as "a kind of 'chevalier d'honneur." In 1798 Brummell left the
army with the rank of captain. A year later he came of age, and settled
at 4, Chesterfield Street, Mayfair.
On his intimacy with the Prince Regent, Brummell founded the
extraordinary position which he achieved in society. Fashion was in
those days a power; and he was its dictator--the oracle, both for men
and women, of taste, manners, and dress. His ascendency rested in some
degree on solid foundations. He was not a mere fop, but conspicuous for
the quiet neatness of his dress--for "a certain exquisite propriety," as
Byron described it to Leigh Hunt--and, at a time when the opposite was
common, for the scrupulous cleanliness of his person and his linen. An
excellent dancer, clever at 'vers de societe', an agreeable singer, a
talented artist, a judge of china, buhl, and other objects of 'virtu', a
collector of snuff-boxes, a connoisseur in canes, he had gifts which
might have raised him above the Bond Street 'flaneur', or the idler at
Watier's Club. Well-read in a desultory fashion, he wrote verses which
were not without merit in their class. The following are the first and
last stanzas of 'The Butterfly's Funeral', a poem which was suggested by
Mrs. Dorset's 'Peacock at Home' and Roscoe's 'Butterfly's Ball':--
"Oh ye! who so lately were blythsome and gay,
At the Butterfly's banquet carousing away;
Your feasts and your revels of pleasure are fled,
For the soul of the banquet, the Butterfly's dead!
* * * * *
And here shall the daisy and violet blow,
And the lily discover her bosom of snow;
While under the leaf, in the evenings of spring,
Still mourning his friend, shall the grasshopper sing."
In the days of his prosperity (1799-1816), Brummell knew everybody to
whose acquaintance he condescended. His Album, in which he collected 226
pieces of poetry, many by himself, others by celebrities of the day, is
a curious proof of his popularity. It contains contributions from such
persons as the Duchess of Devonshire, Erskine, Lord John Townshend,
Sheridan, General Fitzpatrick, William Lamb (afterwards Lord Melbourne)
and his brother George, and Byron. Lady Hester Stanhope ('Memoirs', vol.
i. pp. 280-283) knew him well. She describes him "riding in Bond Street,
with his bridle between his fore-finger and thumb, as if he held a pinch
of snuff;" gives many instances of his audacious effrontery, and yet
concludes that "the man was no fool," and that she "should like to see
him again."
The story that Brummell told the Prince Regent to ring the bell was
denied by him. A more probable version of the story is given in Jesse's
'Life of Beau Brummell' (vol. i. p. 255),
"that one evening, when Brummell and Lord Moira were engaged in
earnest conversation at Carlton House, the prince requested the former
to ring the bell, and that he replied without reflection, 'Your Royal
Highness is close to it,' upon which the prince rang the bell and
ordered his friend's carriage, but that Lord Moira's intervention
caused the unintentional liberty to be overlooked."
The rupture between them is attributed by Jesse to Mrs. Fitzherbert's
influence. Whatever the cause, the prince cut his former friend. A short
time afterwards, Brummell, walking with Lord Alvanley, met the prince
leaning on the arm of Lord Moira. As the prince, who stopped to speak to
Lord Alvanley, was moving on, Brummell said to his companion, "Alvanley,
who's your fat friend?" In the 'Twopenny Postbag' Moore makes the Regent
say, in the "Parody of a Celebrated Letter":
"Neither have I resentments, or wish there should come ill
To mortal--except, now I think on it, Beau Brummell,
Who threatened last year, in a superfine passion,
To cut me, and bring the old king into fashion."
Brummell's position withstood the loss of the Regent's friendship. He
became one of the most frequent visitors to the Duke and Duchess of
York, at Oatlands Park ('Journal of T. Raikes', vol. i. p. 146); and his
friendship with the duchess lasted till her death.
He was ruined by gambling at Watier's Club, of which he was perpetual
president. This club, which was in Piccadilly, at the corner of Bolton
Street, was originally founded, in 1807, by Lord Headfort, John Madocks,
and other young men, for musical gatherings. But glees and snatches soon
gave way to superlative dinners and gambling at macao. Byron, Moore, and
William Spencer belonged to Watier's--the only men of letters admitted
within its precincts. From 1814 to 1816 Brummell lost heavily; he could
obtain no further supplies, and was completely ruined. In his distress
he wrote to Scrope Davies, in May, 1816:
"MY DEAR SCROPE,--Lend me two hundred pounds; the banks are shut, and
all my money is in the three per cents. It shall be repaid to-morrow
morning.
Yours,
GEORGE BRUMMELL."
The reply illustrates Byron's remark that
"Scrope Davies is a wit, and a man of the world, and feels as much as
such a character can do."
"MY DEAR GEORGE,--'Tis very unfortunate, but all my money is in the
three per cents.
Yours,
S. DAVIES."
On May 17,
"obliged," says Byron ('Detached Thoughts'), "by that affair of
poor Meyler, who thence acquired the name of 'Dick the
Dandykiller'--(it was about money and debt and all that)--to retire to
France,"
Brummell took flight to Dover, and crossed to Calais. Watier's Club died
a natural death, in 1819, from the ruin of most of its members.
Amongst Brummell's effects at Chesterfield Street was a screen which he
was making for the Duchess of York. The sixth panel was occupied by
Byron and Napoleon, placed opposite each other; the former, surrounded
with flowers, had a wasp in his throat (Jesse's 'Life', vol. i. p. 361).
At Calais Brummell bought a French grammar to study the language. When
Scrope Davies was asked, says Byron ('Detached Thoughts'),
"what progress Brummell had made in French, he responded 'that
Brummell had been stopped, like Buonaparte in Russia, by the
'Elements'' I have put this pun into 'Beppo', which is 'a fair
exchange and no robbery;' for Scrope made his fortune at several
dinners (as he owned himself) by repeating occasionally as his own
some of the buffooneries with which I had encountered him in the
morning."
Brummell died, in 1840, at Caen, after making acquaintance with the
inside of the debtor's prison in that town--imbecile, and in the asylum
of the 'Bon Sauveur'. He is buried in the Protestant cemetery of Caen.
France has raised a more lasting monument to his fame in Barbey
d'Aurevilly's 'Du Dandysme et de Georges Brummell' (1845).]
[Footnote 3: Henry James Pye (1745-1813) was, from 1790 to his death,
poet laureate, in which post he succeeded Thomas Warton, and was
followed by Southey. Mathias, in the 'Pursuits of Literature' (Dialogue
ii. lines 69, 70), says:
"With Spartan Pye lull England to repose,
Or frighten children with Lenora's woes;"
and again ('ibid'., lines 79, 80):
"Why should I faint when all with patience hear,
And laureat Pye sings more than twice a year?"
His birthday odes were so full of "vocal groves and feathered choirs,"
that George Steevens broke out with the lines:
"When the 'pie' was opened," etc.
Pye's 'magnum opus' was 'Alfred' (1801), an epic poem in six books.]
[Footnote 4: David Mallet, or Malloch (1705-1765), is best known for his
ballad of 'William and Margaret', his unsubstantiated claim to the
authorship of 'Rule, Britannia', and his edition of Bolingbroke's works.
He was appointed, in 1742, under-secretary to Frederick, Prince of
Wales.]
* * * * *
240.--To Professor Clarke [1].
St. James's Street, June 26, 1812.
Will you accept my very sincere congratulations on your second volume,
wherein I have retraced some of my old paths, adorned by you so
beautifully, that they afford me double delight? The part which pleases
me best, after all, is the preface, because it tells me you have not yet
closed labours, to yourself not unprofitable, nor without gratification,
for what is so pleasing as to give pleasure? I have sent my copy to Sir
Sidney Smith, who will derive much gratification from your anecdotes of
Djezzar, [1] his "energetic old man." I doat upon the Druses; but who
the deuce are they with their Pantheism? I shall never be easy till I
ask _them_ the question. How much you have traversed! I must resume my
seven leagued boots and journey to Palestine, which your description
mortifies me not to have seen more than ever. I still sigh for the
AEgean. Shall not you always love its bluest of all waves, and brightest
of all skies? You have awakened all the gipsy in me. I long to be
restless again, and wandering; see what mischief you do, you won't allow
gentlemen to settle quietly at home. I will not wish you success and
fame, for you have both, but all the happiness which even these cannot
always give.
[Footnote 1: Edward Daniel Clarke (1769-1822), appointed Professor of
Mineralogy at Cambridge, in 1808, was the rival whose travels Hobhouse
was anxious to anticipate. He is described by Miss Edgeworth, in 1813
('Letters', vol. i. p. 205), as
"a little, square, pale, flat-faced, good-natured-looking, fussy man,
with very intelligent eyes, yet great credulity of countenance, and
still greater benevolence."
Byron met Clarke at Cambridge in November, 1811, discussed Greece with
him, and was relieved to find that he knew "no Romaic." Clarke was an
indefatigable traveller, and, as he was a botanist, mineralogist,
antiquary, and numismatist, he made good use of his opportunities. The
marbles, including the Eleusinian Ceres, which he brought home, are in
the Fitzwilliam Museum. His mineralogical collections were purchased,
after his death, by the University of Cambridge; and his coins by Payne
Knight. His 'Travels in Various Countries of Europe, Asia, and Africa'
appeared at intervals, from 1810 to 1823, in six quarto volumes. The
following letter was written by Clarke to Byron, after the appearance of
'Childe Harold':
"Trumpington, Wednesday morning.
"DEAR LORD BYRON,--From the eagerness which I felt to make known my
opinions of your poem before others had expressed _any_ upon the
subject, I waited upon you to deliver my hasty, although hearty,
commendation. If it be worthy your acceptance, take it once more, in a
more deliberate form! Upon my arrival in town I found that Mathias
entirely coincided with me. 'Surely,' said I to him, 'Lord Byron, at
this time of life, cannot have experienced such keen anguish as those
exquisite allusions to what older men _may_ have felt seem to
denote!' This was his answer: 'I fear he has--he could not else
have written such a poem.' This morning I read the second canto with
all the attention it so highly merits, in the peace and stillness of
my study; and I am ready to confess I was never so much affected by
any poem, passionately fond of poetry as I have been from my earliest
youth....
"The eighth stanza, '_Yet if as holiest men_,' etc., has never been
surpassed. In the twenty-third, the sentiment is at variance with
Dryden:
'Strange cozenage! _none_ would live past years again.'
"And it is perhaps an instance wherein, for the first time, I found
not within my own breast an echo to your thought, for I would not '_be
once more a boy_;' but the generality of men will agree with you, and
wish to tread life's path again.
"In the twelfth stanza of the same canto, you might really add a very
curious note to these lines:
'Her sons too weak the sacred shrine to guard,
Yet felt some portion of their mother's pains,'
"by stating this fact: When the last of the Metopes was taken from the
Parthenon, and, in moving it, a great part of the superstructure with
one of the triglyphs, was thrown down by the work men whom Lord Elgin
employed, the Disdar, who beheld the mischief done to the building,
took his pipe out of his mouth, dropped a tear, and, in a supplicating
tone of voice, said to Lusieri--[Greek: Telos]! I was present at the
time.
"Once more I thank you for the gratification you have afforded me.
"Believe me, ever yours most truly,
"E. D. CLARKE."]
[Footnote 2: In Clarke's 'Travels' (Part II. sect. i. chap, xii.,
"Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land") will be found an account of Djezzar
Pasha, who fortified Acre in 1775, and with Sir Sidney Smith, defended
it against Buonaparte, March 16 to May 20, 1799. Clarke ('ibid'.)
mentions the Druses detained by Djezzar as hostages.]
* * * * *
241.--To Walter Scott. [1]
St. James's Street, July 6, 1812.
SIR,--I have just been honoured with your letter.--I feel sorry that you
should have thought it worth while to notice the "evil works of my
nonage," as the thing is suppressed _voluntarily_, and your explanation
is too kind not to give me pain. The Satire was written when I was very
young and very angry, and fully bent on displaying my wrath and my wit,
and now I am haunted by the ghosts of my wholesale assertions. I cannot
sufficiently thank you for your praise; and now, waving myself, let me
talk to you of the Prince Regent. He ordered me to be presented to him
at a ball; and after some sayings peculiarly pleasing from royal lips,
as to my own attempts, he talked to me of you and your immortalities: he
preferred you to every bard past and present, and asked which of your
works pleased me most. It was a difficult question. I answered, I
thought the 'Lay'. He said his own opinion was nearly similar. In
speaking of the others, I told him that I thought you more particularly
the poet of _Princes_, as _they_ never appeared more fascinating than in
'Marmion' and the 'Lady of the Lake'. He was pleased to coincide, and to
dwell on the description of your Jameses as no less royal than poetical.
He spoke alternately of Homer and yourself, and seemed well acquainted
with both; so that (with the exception of the Turks [2] and your humble
servant) you were in very good company. I defy Murray to have
exaggerated his Royal Highness's opinion of your powers, nor can I
pretend to enumerate all he said on the subject; but it may give you
pleasure to hear that it was conveyed in language which would only
suffer by my attempting to transcribe it, and with a tone and taste
which gave me a very high idea of his abilities and accomplishments,
which I had hitherto considered as confined to _manners_, certainly
superior to those of any living _gentleman_ [3].
This interview was accidental. I never went to the levee; for having
seen the courts of Mussulman and Catholic sovereigns, my curiosity was
sufficiently allayed; and my politics being as perverse as my rhymes, I
had, in fact, "no business there." To be thus praised by your Sovereign
must be gratifying to you; and if that gratification is not alloyed by
the communication being made through me, the bearer of it will consider
himself very fortunately and sincerely,
Your obliged and obedient servant,
BYRON.
P.S.--Excuse this scrawl, scratched in a great hurry, and just after a
journey.
[Footnote 1: The correspondence which begins with this letter laid the
foundation of a firm friendship between the two poets. Scott was
naturally annoyed by the attack upon him in 'English Bards, etc'. (lines
171-174), made by "a young whelp of a Lord Byron." Though 'Childe
Harold' seemed to him "a clever poem," it did not raise his opinion of
Byron's character. Murray, hoping to heal the breach between them, wrote
to Scott, June 27, 1812 ('Memoir of John Murray', vol. i. p. 213),
giving Byron's account of the conversation with the Prince Regent.
"But the Prince's great delight," says Murray, "was Walter Scott,
whose name and writings he dwelt upon and recurred to incessantly. He
preferred him far beyond any other poet of the time, repeated several
passages with fervour, and criticized them faithfully.... Lord Byron
called upon me, merely to let off the raptures of the Prince
respecting you, thinking, as he said, that if I were likely to have
occasion to write to you, it might not be ungrateful for you to hear
of his praises."
Scott's answer (July 2) enclosed the following letter from himself to
Byron:
"Edinburgh, July 3d, 1812.
"MY LORD,--I am uncertain if I ought to profit by the apology which is
afforded me, by a very obliging communication from our acquaintance,
John Murray, of Fleet Street, to give your Lordship the present
trouble. But my intrusion concerns a large debt of gratitude due to
your Lordship, and a much less important one of explanation, which I
think I owe to myself, as I dislike standing low in the opinion of any
person whose talents rank so highly in my own, as your Lordship's most
deservedly do.
"The first 'count', as our technical language expresses it, relates to
the high pleasure I have received from the 'Pilgrimage of Childe
Harold', and from its precursors; the former, with all its classical
associations, some of which are lost on so poor a scholar as I am,
possesses the additional charm of vivid and animated description,
mingled with original sentiment; but besides this debt, which I owe
your Lordship in common with the rest of the reading public, I have to
acknowledge my particular thanks for your having distinguished by
praise, in the work which your Lordship rather dedicated in general to
satire, some of my own literary attempts. And this leads me to put
your Lordship right in the circumstances respecting the sale of
'Marmion', which had reached you in a distorted and misrepresented
form, and which, perhaps, I have some reason to complain, were given
to the public without more particular inquiry. The poem, my Lord, was
_not_ written upon contract for a sum of money--though it is too true
that it was sold and published in a very unfinished state (which I
have since regretted), to enable me to extricate myself from some
engagements which fell suddenly upon me by the unexpected misfortunes
of a very near relation. So that, to quote statute and precedent, I
really come under the case cited by Juvenal, though not quite in the
extremity of the classic author:
'Esurit, intactam Paridi nisi vendit Agaven.'
"And so much for a mistake, into which your Lordship might easily fall,
especially as I generally find it the easiest way of stopping
sentimental compliments on the beauty, etc., of certain poetry, and
the delights which the author must have taken in the composition, by
assigning the readiest reason that will cut the discourse short, upon
a subject where one must appear either conceited or affectedly rude
and cynical.
"As for my attachment to literature, I sacrificed for the pleasure of
pursuing it very fair chances of opulence and professional honours, at
a time of life when I fully knew their value; and I am not ashamed to
say, that in deriving advantages in compensation from the partial
favour of the public, I have added some comforts and elegancies to a
bare independence. I am sure your Lordship's good sense will easily
put this unimportant egotism to the right account, for--though I do
not know the motive would make me enter into controversy with a fair
or an 'unfair' literary critic--I may be well excused for a wish
to clear my personal character from any tinge of mercenary or sordid
feeling in the eyes of a contemporary of genius. Your Lordship will
likewise permit me to add that you would have escaped the trouble of
this explanation, had I not understood that the satire alluded to had
been suppressed, not to be reprinted. For in removing a prejudice on
your Lordship's own mind, I had no intention of making any appeal by
or through you to the public, since my own habits of life have
rendered my defence as to avarice or rapacity rather too easy.
"Leaving this foolish matter where it lies, I have to request your
Lordship's acceptance of my best thanks for the flattering
communication which you took the trouble to make Mr. Murray on my
behalf, and which could not fail to give me the gratification which I
am sure you intended. I dare say our worthy bibliopolist overcoloured
his report of your Lordship's conversation with the Prince Regent, but
I owe my thanks to him nevertheless, for the excuse he has given me
for intruding these pages on your Lordship. Wishing you health,
spirit, and perseverance, to continue your pilgrimage through the
interesting countries which you have still to pass with 'Childe
Harold', I have the honour to be, my Lord,
"Your Lordship's obedient servant,
"WALTER SCOTT.
"P.S.--Will your Lordship permit me a verbal criticism on 'Childe
Harold', were it only to show I have read his Pilgrimage with
attention? 'Nuestra Dama de la Pena' means, I suspect, not our Lady of
Crime or Punishment, but our Lady of the Cliff; the difference is, I
believe, merely in the accentuation of 'pena'."
To Scott Byron replied with the letter given in the text. Scott's
answer, which followed in due course, will be found in Appendix V.
The Prince Regent, it may be added, showed his appreciation of Scott's
poetry by offering him, on the death of Pye, the post of poet laureate.
Scott refused, on the ground, apparently, that the office had been made
ridiculous by the previous holder.
"At the time when Scott and Byron were the two 'lions' of London,
Hookham Frere observed, 'Great poets formerly (Homer and Milton) were
blind; now they are lame'"
('Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers', P. 194).]
[Footnote 2: The Turkish ambassador and suite were at the ball.]
[Footnote 3: Byron had already written his "Stanzas to a Lady Weeping,"
suggested by the rumour that Princess Charlotte had burst into tears, on
being told that there would be no change of Ministry when the Prince of
Wales assumed the Regency. They appeared anonymously in the 'Morning
Chronicle' for March 7, 1812, under the title of a "Sympathetic
'Address' to a Young Lady." They were published, as Byron's work, with
'The Corsair', in February, 1814. The verses rather betray the influence
of Moore than express his own feelings at the time. In 'Don Juan' (Canto
XII. stanza lxxxiv.) he thus speaks of the Regent:
"There, too, he saw (whate'er he may be now)
A Prince, the prince of princes at the time,
With fascination in his very bow,
And full of promise, as the spring of prime.
Though royalty was written on his brow,
He had 'then' the grace, too, rare in every clime,
Of being, without alloy of fop or beau,
A finish'd gentleman from top to toe."
Dallas found him, shortly after his introduction to the prince, "in a
full-dress court suit of clothes, with his fine black hair in powder,"
prepared to attend a levee. But the levee was put off, and the
subsequent avowal of the authorship of the stanzas rendered it
impossible for him to go ('Recollections', p. 234).]
* * * * *
242.--To Lady Caroline Lamb.
[August, 1812?]
MY DEAREST CAROLINE, [1]--If tears which you saw and know I am not apt
to shed,--if the agitation in which I parted from you,--agitation which
you must have perceived through the _whole_ of this most _nervous_
affair, did not commence until the moment of leaving you approached,--if
all I have said and done, and am still but too ready to say and do, have
not sufficiently proved what my real feelings are, and must ever be
towards you, my love, I have no other proof to offer. God knows, I wish
you happy, and when I quit you, or rather you, from a sense of duty to
your husband and mother, quit me, you shall acknowledge the truth of
what I again promise and vow, that no other in word or deed, shall ever
hold the place in my affections, which is, and shall be, most sacred to
you, till I am nothing. I never knew till _that moment_ the _madness_ of
my dearest and most beloved friend; I cannot express myself; this is no
time for words, but I shall have a pride, a melancholy pleasure, in
suffering what you yourself can scarcely conceive, for you do not know
me. I am about to go out with a heavy heart, because my appearing this
evening will stop any absurd story which the event of the day might give
rise to. Do you think _now_ I am _cold_ and _stern_ and _artful_? Will
even _others_ think so? Will your _mother_ ever--that mother to whom we
must indeed sacrifice much, more, much more on my part than she shall
ever know or can imagine? "Promise not to love you!" ah, Caroline, it is
past promising. But I shall attribute all concessions to the proper
motive, and never cease to feel all that you have already witnessed, and
more than can ever be known but to my own heart,--perhaps to yours. May
God protect, forgive, and bless you. Ever, and even more than ever,
Your most attached,
BYRON.
P.S.--These taunts which have driven you to this, my dearest Caroline,
were it not for your mother and the kindness of your connections, is
there anything on earth or heaven that would have made me so happy as to
have made you mine long ago? and not less _now_ than _then_, but _more_
than ever at this time. You know I would with pleasure give up all here
and all beyond the grave for you, and in refraining from this, must my
motives be misunderstood? I care not who knows this, what use is made of
it,--it is to _you_ and to _you_ only that they are _yourself (sic)_. I
was and am yours freely and most entirely, to obey, to honour,
love,--and fly with you when, where, and how you yourself _might_ and
_may_ determine.
[Footnote 1: Lady Caroline's infatuation for Byron, expressed in various
ways--once (in July, 1813) by a self-inflicted stab with a table-knife,
or a broken glass--became the talk of society.
"Your little friend, Caro William," writes the Duchess of Devonshire,
May 4, 1812, "as usual, is doing all sorts of imprudent things for him
and with him."
Again she writes, six days later, of Byron:
"The ladies, I hear, spoil him, and the gentlemen are jealous of him.
He is going back to Naxos, and then the husbands may sleep in peace. I
should not be surprised if Caro William were to go with him, she is so
wild and imprudent"
(The 'Two Duchesses', pp. 362, 364). But Lady Caroline's extravagant
adoration wearied Byron, who felt that it made him ridiculous; Lady
Melbourne gave him sound advice about her daughter-in-law; and he was
growing attached to Miss Milbanke, and, when rejected by her, at first
to Lady Oxford, and later to Lady Frances Wedderburn Webster. When Lady
Bessborough endeavoured to persuade her daughter to leave London for
Ireland, Lady Caroline is said to have forced herself into Byron's room,
and implored him to fly with her. Byron refused, conducted her back to
Melbourne House, wrote her the letter printed above, and, as she herself
admits, kept the secret. In December, 1812, Lady Caroline burned Byron
in effigy, with "his book, ring, and chain," at Brocket Hall. The lines
which she wrote for the ceremony are preserved in Mrs. Leigh's
handwriting, and given in Appendix III., 2.
From Ireland Lady Caroline continued the siege, threatening to follow
him into Herefordshire, demanding interviews, and writing about him to
Lady Oxford. At length Byron sent her the letter, probably in November,
1812, which she professes to publish in 'Glenarvon' (vol. iii. chap.
ix.). The words are acknowledged by Byron to have formed part at least
of the real document, which is here quoted as printed in the novel:
"Mortanville Priory, November the 9th.
"LADY AVONDALE,--I am no longer your lover; and since you oblige me to
confess it, by this truly unfeminine persecution, ... learn, that I am
attached to another; whose name it would, of course, be dishonourable
to mention. I shall ever remember with gratitude the many instances I
have received of the predilection you have shown in my favour. I shall
ever continue your friend, if your ladyship will permit me so to style
myself; and, as a first proof of my regard, I offer you this advice,
correct your vanity, which is ridiculous; exert your absurd caprices
upon others; and leave me in peace.
"Your most obedient servant,
"GLENARVON."
The first effect of this letter and her unrequited passion was, as she
told Lady Morgan, to deprive her temporarily of reason, and it may be
added that, when she was a child, her grandmother was so alarmed by her
eccentricities as to consult a doctor on the state of her mind. The
second effect was to render her temper so ungovernable that William Lamb
decided on a separation. All preliminaries were arranged; the solicitor
arrived with the documents; but the old charm reasserted itself, and she
was found seated by her husband, "feeding him with tiny scraps of
transparent bread and butter" (Torrens, 'Memoirs of Lord Melbourne',
vol. i. p. 112). The separation did not take place till 1825.
Throughout 1812-14 Lady Caroline continued to write to Byron, at first
asking for interviews. Two of her last letters to him, written
apparently on the eve of his leaving England, in 1816, are worth
printing, though they increase the mystery of 'Glenarvon'. (See Appendix
III., 4 and 5.)
In Isaac Nathan's 'Fugitive Pieces' (1829), a section is devoted to
"Poetical Effusions, Letters, Anecdotes, and Recollections of Lady
Caroline Lamb."
Lady Caroline wrote three novels: 'Glenarvon' (1816); 'Graham Hamilton'
(1822); and 'Ada Reis; a Tale' (1823). 'Glenarvon', apart from its
biographical interest, is unreadable.
"I do not know," writes C. Lemon to Lady H. Frampton ('Journal of Mary
Frampton', pp. 286, 287), "all the characters in 'Glenarvon', but I
will tell you all I do know. I am not surprised at your being struck
with a few detached passages; but before you have read one volume, I
think you will doubt at which end of the book you began. There is no
connection between any two ideas in the book, and it seems to me to
have been written as the sages of Laputa composed their works.
'Glenarvon' is Lord Byron; 'Lady Augusta,' the late Duchess of
Devonshire; 'Lady Mandeville'--I think it is Lady Mandeville, but the
lady who dictated Glearvon's farewell letter to Calantha--is Lady
Oxford. This letter she really dictated to Lord Byron to send to Lady
Caroline Lamb, and is now very much offended that she has treated the
matter so lightly as to introduce it into her book. The best character
in it is the 'Princess of Madagascar' (Lady Holland), with all her
Reviewers about her. The young Duke of Devonshire is in the book, but
I forget under what name. I need not say that the heroine is Lady
Caroline's own self."
In July, 1824, she was out riding, when she accidentally met Byron's
funeral on its way to Newstead. "I am sure," she wrote to Murray, July
13, 1824, "I am very sorry I ever said one unkind word against him." Her
mind never recovered the shock, and she died in January, 1828, in the
presence of her husband, at Melbourne House. (See also Appendix III.,
6.)]
* * * * *
243.--To John Murray.
High Street, Cheltenham, Sept. 5, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--Pray have the goodness to send those despatches, and a No. of
the _E.R._ with the rest. I hope you have written to Mr. Thompson,
thanked him in my name for his present, and told him that I shall be
truly happy to comply with his request.--How do you go on? and when is
the graven image, "with _bays and wicked rhyme upon't_," to grace, or
disgrace, some of our tardy editions?
Send me "_Rokeby_" [1] who the deuce is he?--no matter, he has good
connections, and will be well introduced. I thank you for your
inquiries: I am so so, but my thermometer is sadly below the poetical
point. What will you give _me_ or _mine_ for a poem [2] of six cantos,
(_when complete--no_ rhyme, _no_ recompense,) as like the last two as I
can make them? I have some ideas which one day may be embodied, and till
winter I shall have much leisure.
Believe me, yours very sincerely,
BYRON.
P. S.--My last question is in the true style of Grub Street; but, like
_Jeremy Diddler_ [3], I only "ask for information."--Send me Adair on
_Diet and Regimen_, just republished by Ridgway [4].
[Footnote 1: 'Rokeby', completed December 31, 1812, was published in the
following year, with a dedication to John Morritt, to whom Rokeby
belonged. It was, as Scott admits in the Preface to the edition of 1830,
comparatively a failure. In the popularity of Byron he finds the chief
cause of the small success which his poem obtained.
"To have kept his ground at the crisis when 'Rokeby' appeared," he
writes, "its author ought to have put forth his utmost strength, and
to have possessed all his original advantages, for a mighty and
unexpected rival was advancing on the stage--a rival not in poetical
powers only, but in that art of attracting popularity, in which the
present writer had hitherto preceded better men than himself. The
reader will easily see that Byron is here meant, who, after a little
velitation of no great promise, now appeared as a serious candidate,
in the first two cantos of 'Childe Harold'."
On this rivalry Byron wrote the passage in his Diary for November 17,
1813. A further cause for the cold reception of 'Rokeby' was its
inferiority both to the 'Lay' and to 'Marmion'. In Letter vii. of the
'Twopenny Post-bag', Moore writes thus of 'Rokeby'
"Should you feel any touch of 'poetical' glow,
We've a Scheme to suggest--Mr. Sc--tt, you must know,
(Who, we're sorry to say it, now works for the 'Row')
Having quitted the Borders, to seek new renown,
Is coming by long Quarto stages, to Town;
And beginning with Rokeby (the job's sure to pay)
Means to 'do' all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way.
Now the Scheme is (though none of our hackneys can beat him)
To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to 'meet' him;
Who, by means of quick proofs--no revises--long coaches--
May do a few Villas before Sc--tt approaches--
Indeed, if our Pegasus be not curst shabby,
He'll reach, without found'ring, at least Woburn Abbey."]
[Footnote 2: 'The Giaour', published in 1813, for which Murray paid, not
Byron, but Dallas, 500 guineas.]
[Footnote 3: Kenney's 'Raising the Wind', act i. sc. 1:
"'Diddler'. O Sam, you haven't got such a thing as tenpence about
you, have you?
"'Sam'. Yes. 'And I mean to keep it about me, you see'.
"'Diddler'. Oh, aye, certainly. I only asked for information."]
[Footnote 4: James MacKittrick (1728-1802), who assumed the name of
Adair, published, in 1804, 'An Essay on Diet and Regimen, as
indispensable to the Recovery and Preservation of Firm Health,
especially to Indolent, Studious, Delicate and Invalid; with appropriate
cases'.]
* * * * *
244.--To Lord Holland.
Cheltenham, September 10, 1812.
My Dear Lord,--The lines which I sketched off on your hint are still, or
rather _were_, in an unfinished state, for I have just committed them to
a flame more decisive than that of Drury [1].
Under all circumstances, I should hardly wish a contest with
Philodrama--Philo-Drury--Asbestos, H----, and all the anonymes and
synonymes of Committee candidates. Seriously, I think you have a chance
of something much better; for prologuising is not my forte, and, at all
events, either my pride or my modesty won't let me incur the hazard of
having my rhymes buried in next month's Magazine, under "Essays on the
Murder of Mr. Perceval." and "Cures for the Bite of a Mad Dog," as poor
Goldsmith complained of the fate of far superior performances [2].
I am still sufficiently interested to wish to know the successful
candidate; and, amongst so many, I have no doubt some will be excellent,
particularly in an age when writing verse is the easiest of all
attainments.
I cannot answer your intelligence with the "like comfort," unless, as
you are deeply theatrical, you may wish to hear of Mr. Betty [3], whose
acting is, I fear, utterly inadequate to the London engagement into
which the managers of Covent Garden have lately entered. His figure is
fat, his features flat, his voice unmanageable, his action ungraceful,
and, as Diggory [4] says, "I defy him to extort that damned muffin face
of his into madness." I was very sorry to see him in the character of
the "Elephant on the slack rope;" for, when I last saw him, I was in
raptures with his performance. But then I was sixteen--an age to which
all London condescended to subside. After all, much better judges have
admired, and may again; but I venture to "prognosticate a prophecy" (see
the 'Courier') that he will not succeed.
So, poor dear Rogers has stuck fast on "the brow of the mighty
Helvellyn" [5]--I hope not for ever. My best respects to Lady H.:--her
departure, with that of my other friends, was a sad event for me, now
reduced to a state of the most cynical solitude.
"By the waters of Cheltenham I sat down and _drank_, when I
remembered thee, oh Georgiana Cottage! As for our _harps_, we
hanged them up upon the willows that grew thereby. Then they said,
Sing us a song of Drury Lane," etc.;
--but I am dumb and dreary as the Israelites. The waters have disordered
me to my heart's content--you _were_ right, as you always are.
Believe me, ever your obliged and affectionate servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Drury Lane Theatre was reopened, after the fire of February
24, 1809, on Saturday, October 10, 1812. In the previous August the
following advertisement was issued:
"'Rebuilding of Drury-Lane Theatre.'
"The Committee are desirous of promoting a fair and free competition
for an Address, to be spoken upon the opening of the Theatre, which
will take place on the 10th of October next: They have therefore
thought fit to announce to the Public, that they will be glad to
receive any such Compositions, addressed to their Secretary at the
Treasury Office in Drury Lane, on or before the 10th of September,
sealed up, with a distinguishing word, number, or motto, on the cover,
corresponding with the inscription, on a separate sealed paper,
containing the name of the Author, which will not be opened, unless
containing the name of the successful Candidate. Theatre Royal,
Drury-Lane, August 13, 1812.
"Owing to an accidental delay in the publication of the above
Advertisement, the Committee have thought proper to extend the time
for receiving Addresses, from the last day of August to the 10th of
September."
Byron, on the suggestion of Lord Holland, intended to send in an
'Address' in competition with other similar productions. He afterwards
changed his mind, and refused to compete. After all the 'Addresses' had
been received and rejected, the Committee applied to him to write an
'Address'. This he consented to do.]
[Footnote 2:
"The public were more importantly employed, than to observe the easy
simplicity of my style, or the harmony of my periods. Sheet after
sheet was thrown off to oblivion. My essays were buried among the
essays upon liberty, Eastern tales, and cures for the bite of a mad
dog."
'Vicar of Wakefield', chap. xx.]
[Footnote 3: See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 63, 'note' 2.[Footnote 2 of
Letter 24]]
[Footnote 4: "Diggory," one of Liston's parts, a character in Jackman's
'All the World's a Stage', asks (act i. sc. 2), "But how can you extort
that damned pudding-face of yours to madness?"]
[Footnote 5: Rogers had gone for a tour in the North. Byron alludes to
Scott's poem 'Helvellyn':
"I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn," etc., etc.
The poem was occasioned, as Scott's note states, by the death of "a
young gentleman of talents, and of a most amiable disposition," who was
killed on the mountain in 1805.]
* * * * *
245.--To John Murray.
Cheltenham, Sept. 14, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--The parcels contained some letters and verses, all (but one)
anonymous and complimentary, and very anxious for my conversion from
certain infidelities into which my good-natured correspondents conceive
me to have fallen. The books were presents of a _convertible_ kind
also,--'Christian Knowledge' and the 'Bioscope' [1], a religious Dial of
Life explained:--to the author of the former (Cadell, publisher,) I beg
you will forward my best thanks for his letter, his present, and, above
all, his good intentions. The 'Bioscope' contained an MS. copy of very
excellent verses, from whom I know not, but evidently the composition of
some one in the habit of writing, and of writing well. I do not know if
he be the author of the 'Bioscope' which accompanied them; but whoever
he is, if you can discover him, thank him from me most heartily. The
other letters were from ladies, who are welcome to convert me when they
please; and if I can discover them, and they be young, as they say they
are, I could convince them perhaps of my devotion. I had also a letter
from Mr. Walpole on matters of this world, which I have answered.
So you are Lucien's publisher! [2] I am promised an interview with him,
and think I shall ask _you_ for a letter of introduction, as "the gods
have made him poetical." From whom could it come with a better grace
than from _his_ publisher and mine? Is it not somewhat treasonable in
you to have to do with a relative of the "direful foe," as the 'Morning
Post' calls his brother?
But my book on 'Diet and Regimen', where is it? I thirst for Scott's
'Rokeby'; let me have y'e first-begotten copy. The 'Anti-Jacobin Review'
[3] is all very well, and not a bit worse than the 'Quarterly', and at
least less harmless. By the by, have you secured my books? I want all
the Reviews, at least the Critiques, quarterly, monthly, etc.,
Portuguese and English, extracted, and bound up in one volume for my
_old age_; and pray, sort my Romaic books, and get the volumes lent to
Mr. Hobhouse--he has had them now a long time. If any thing occurs, you
will favour me with a line, and in winter we shall be nearer neighbours.
Yours very truly,
BYRON.
P.S.--I was applied to to write the _Address_ for Drury Lane, but the
moment I heard of the contest, I gave up the idea of contending against
all Grub Street, and threw a few thoughts on the subject into the fire.
I did this out of respect to you, being sure you would have turned off
any of your authors who had entered the lists with such scurvy
competitors; to triumph would have been no glory, and to have been
defeated--'sdeath!--I would have choked myself, like Otway, with a
quartern loaf [4]; so, remember I had, and have, nothing to do with it,
upon _my Honour!_
[Footnote 1: Granville Penn (1761-1844) was the author of numerous works
on religious subjects. 'The Bioscope, or Dial of Life Explained'
appeared in 1812. The other work referred to by Byron is probably Penn's
'Christian's Survey of all the Primary Events and Periods of the World'
(1811), of which a second edition was published in 1812.]
[Footnote 2: Lucien Buonaparte (1775-1840), Prince of Canino, since 1810
a landed proprietor in Shropshire, wrote an epic poem, 'Charlemagne, ou
l'Eglise delivree'. It was translated (1815) by Dr. Butler of Shrewsbury
and Francis Hodgson.]
[Footnote 3: 'The Anti-Jacobin Review' criticized 'Childe Harold' in
August, 1812; the 'Quarterly', in March, 1812.]
[Footnote 4: Otway died April, 1685, at the age of thirty-three, from a
fever contracted by drinking water when heated by running after an
assassin (Spence's 'Anecdotes', p. 44). Theophilus Cibber ('Lives of the
Poets', ed. 1753, vol. ii. pp. 333, 334) gives another account of his
death, viz. that he begged a shilling of a gentleman, and, being given a
guinea, bought a roll, with which he was choked.]
* * * * *
246.--To Lord Holland.
September 22, 1812.
My Dear Lord,--In a day or two I will send you something which you will
still have the liberty to reject if you dislike it. I should like to
have had more time, but will do my best,--but too happy if I can oblige
_you_, though I may offend a hundred scribblers and the discerning
public.
Ever yours.
Keep _my name_ a _secret_; or I shall be beset by all the rejected, and,
perhaps, damned by a party.
* * * * *
247.--To Lord Holland.
Cheltenham, September 23, 1812.
Ecco!--I have marked some passages with _double_ readings--choose
between them--_cut--add--reject_--or _destroy_--do with them as you
will--I leave it to you and the Committee--you cannot say so called "a
_non committendo_." What will _they_ do (and I do) with the hundred and
one rejected Troubadours? [1]
"With trumpets, yea, and with shawms," will you be assailed in the most
diabolical doggerel. I wish my name not to transpire till the day is
decided. I shall not be in town, so it won't much matter; but let us
have a _good deliverer_. I think Elliston [2] should be the man, or Pope
[3]; not Raymond [4], I implore you, by the love of Rhythmus!
The passages marked thus = =, above and below, are for you to choose
between epithets, and such like poetical furniture. Pray write me a
line, and believe me
Ever, etc.
My best remembrances to Lady H. Will you be good enough to decide
between the various readings marked, and erase the other; or our
_deliverer_ may be as puzzled as a commentator, and belike repeat both.
If these _versicles_ won't do, I will hammer out some more
endecasyllables.
P.S.--Tell Lady H. I have had sad work to keep out the Phoenix--I mean
the Fire Office of that name. It has insured the theatre, and why not
the Address?
[Footnote 1: The genuine rejected addresses were advertised for by B.
McMillan, of Bow Street, Covent Garden, and forty-two of them were
published by him in November, 1812, with the following title: 'The
Genuine Rejected Addresses presented to the Committee of Management for
Drury Lane Theatre; preceded by that written by Lord Byron and adopted
by the Committee'.
The youngest competitor was "Anna, a young lady in the fifteenth year of
her age."
The actual number sent in was 112, and sixty-nine of the competitors
invoked the Phoenix. Among the competitors were Peter Pindar, whose
'Address' was printed in 1813; Whitbread, the manager, who gave the
"poulterer's description" of the Phoenix; and Horace Smith, who
published his 'Address without a Phoenix', By S. T. P., in 'Rejected
Addresses'.]
[Footnote 2: Robert William Elliston (1774-1831), according to Genest
('English Stage', vol. ix. p. 338), made his first appearance at Bath in
April, 1791, as "Tressel" in 'Richard III'., and from 1796 to 1803 Bath
remained his head-quarters. An excellent actor both in tragedy and
comedy, he became in 1803 a member of the Haymarket Company. From 1804
to 1809, and again from 1812 to 1815, he acted at Drury Lane. Byron's
Prologue was spoken by him on October 10, 1812, at the reopening of the
new theatre. It was at Drury Lane in April, 1821, while he was lessee
(1819-26), that Byron's 'Marino Faliero' was acted. His last appearance
was as "Sheva" in 'The Jew', at the Surrey Theatre, of which (1826-31)
he was lessee. In spite of his drunken habits, he won the enthusiastic
praise of Charles Lamb as the "joyousest of once embodied spirits" (see
'Essays of Elia', "To the Shade of Elliston" and "Ellistoniana").]
[Footnote 3: Alexander Pope (1763-1835), miniaturist, 'gourmand', and
actor, was for years the principal tragedian at Covent Garden. Opinion
was divided as to his merits as an actor. He owed much to his voice,
which had a "mellow richness ... superior to any other performer on the
stage." Genest, who quotes the above (vol. ix. p. 377), adds that "in
his better days he had more pathos about him than any other actor." He
made his first appearance in Cork as "Oroonoko," and subsequently
(January, 1785) at Covent Garden in the same part. He ceased acting at
Covent Garden in June, 1827.]
[Footnote 4: In the cast for 'Hamlet', with which Drury Lane reopened,
Raymond played the Ghost. Raymond was also the stage manager of the
theatre.]
* * * * *
248.--To Lord Holland.
September 24.
I send a recast of the four first lines of the concluding paragraph.
This greeting o'er, the ancient rule obey'd,
The drama's homage by her Herald paid,
Receive _our welcome too_, whose every tone
Springs from our hearts, and fain would win your own.
The curtain rises, etc., etc.
And do forgive all this trouble. See what it is to have to do even with
the _genteelest_ of us.
Ever, etc.
* * * * *
249.--To Lord Holland.
Cheltenham, Sept. 25, 1812.
Still "more matter for a May morning." [1] Having patched the middle and
end of the Address, I send one more couplet for a part of the beginning,
which, if not too turgid, you will have the goodness to add. After that
flagrant image of the _Thames_ (I hope no unlucky wag will say I have
set it on fire, though Dryden [2], in his _Annus Mirabilis_, and
Churchill [3], in his _Times_, did it before me), I mean to insert this:
As flashing far the new Volcano shone
{_meteors_}
And swept the skies with {lightnings} not their own,
While thousands throng'd around the burning dome,
Etc., etc.
I think "thousands" less flat than "crowds collected"--but don't let me
plunge into the bathos, or rise into Nat. Lee's _Bedlam metaphors_ [4].
By the by, the best view of the said fire (which I myself saw from a
house-top in Covent-garden) was at Westminster Bridge, from the
reflection on the Thames.
Perhaps the present couplet had better come in after "trembled for their
homes," the two lines after;--as otherwise the image certainly sinks,
and it will run just as well.
The lines themselves, perhaps, may be better thus--("choose," or
"refuse"--but please _yourself_, and don't mind "Sir Fretful" [5]):
As flash'd the volumed blaze, and {_sadly_/ghastly} shone
The skies with lightnings awful as their own.
The last _runs_ smoothest, and, I think, best; but you know _better_
than _best_. "Lurid" is also a less indistinct epithet than "livid
wave," and, if you think so, a dash of the pen will do.
I expected one line this morning; in the mean time, I shall remodel and
condense, and, if I do not hear from you, shall send another copy.
I am ever, etc.
[Footnote 1: 'Twelfth Night', act iii. sc. 4.]
[Footnote 2: Dryden's 'Annus Mirabilis', stanza 231:
"A key of fire ran all along the shore,
And lightened all the river with a blaze;
The wakened tides began again to roar,
And wondering fish in shining waters gaze."]
[Footnote 3: Churchill's 'Times', lines 701, 702:
"Bidding in one grand pile this Town expire,
Her towers in dust, her Thames a Lake of fire."]
[Footnote 4: Nathaniel Lee (circ. 1653-1692), the dramatist, wrote 'The
Rival Queens' (1677), in which occurs the line:
"When Greek join'd Greek then was the tug of war."
He collaborated with Dryden in 'OEdipus' (1679) and 'The Duke of Guise'
(1682). His numerous dramas were distinguished, in his own day, for
extravagance and bombast. His mind failing, he was confined from 1684 to
1688 in Bethlehem Hospital, where he is said to have composed a tragedy
in 25 acts.]
[Footnote 5: 'The Critic', act i. sc. I. "Sneer," speaking of "Sir
Fretful Plagiary," says,
"He is as envious as an old maid verging on the desperation of six and
thirty; and then the insidious humility with which he seduces you to
give a free opinion on any of his works can be exceeded only by the
petulant arrogance with which he is sure to reject your observations."]
* * * * *
250.--To Lord Holland.
September 26, 1812.
You will think there is no end to my villanous emendations. The fifth
and sixth lines I think to alter thus:
Ye who beheld--oh sight admired and mourn'd,
Whose radiance mock'd the ruin it adorn'd;
because "night" is repeated the next line but one; and, as it now
stands, the conclusion of the paragraph, "worthy him (Shakspeare) and
_you_," appears to apply the "_you_" to those only who were out of bed
and in Covent Garden market on the night of conflagration, instead of
the audience or the discerning public at large, all of whom are intended
to be comprised in that comprehensive and, I hope, comprehensible
pronoun.
By the by, one of my corrections in the fair copy sent yesterday has
dived into the bathos some sixty fathom:
When Garrick died, and Brinsley ceased to write.
Ceasing to _live_ is a much more serious concern, and ought not to be
first; therefore I will let the old couplet stand, with its half rhymes
"sought" and "wrote." [1]
Second thoughts in every thing are best, but, in rhyme, third and fourth
don't come amiss. I am very anxious on this business, and I do hope that
the very trouble I occasion you will plead its own excuse, and that it
will tend to show my endeavour to make the most of the time allotted. I
wish I had known it months ago, for in that case I had not left one line
standing on another. I always scrawl in this way, and smooth as much as
I can, but never sufficiently; and, latterly, I can weave a nine-line
stanza faster than a couplet, for which measure I have not the cunning.
When I began _Childe Harold_, I had never tried Spenser's measure, and
now I cannot scribble in any other.
After all, my dear Lord, if you can get a decent _Address_ elsewhere,
don't hesitate to put this aside [2].
Why did you not trust your own Muse? I am very sure she would have been
triumphant, and saved the Committee their trouble--"'tis a joyful one"
to me, but I fear I shall not satisfy even myself. After the account you
sent me, 'tis no compliment to say you would have beaten your
candidates; but I mean that, in _that_ case, there would have been no
occasion for their being beaten at all.
There are but two decent prologues in our tongue--Pope's to 'Cato'
[3]--Johnson's to Drury-Lane [4].
These, with the epilogue to 'The Distrest Mother' [5] and, I think, one
of Goldsmith's [6], and a prologue of old Colman's to Beaumont and
Fletcher's 'Philaster' [7], are the best things of the kind we have.
P.S.--I am diluted to the throat with medicine for the stone; and
Boisragon wants me to try a warm climate for the winter--but I won't.
[Footnote 1:
"Such are the names that here your plaudits sought,
When Garrick acted, and when Brinsley wrote."
At present the couplet stands thus:
"Dear are the days that made our annals bright,
Ere Garrick fled, or Brinsley ceased to write."]
[Footnote 2:
"I am almost ashamed," writes Lord Holland to Rogers, October 22, 1812
(Clayden's 'Rogers and his Contemporaries', vol. i. p. 115), "of
having induced Lord Byron to write on so ungrateful a theme
(ungrateful in all senses) as the opening of a theatre; he was so
good-humoured, took so much pains, corrected so good-humouredly, and
produced, as I thought and think, a prologue so superior to the common
run of that sort of trumpery, that it is quite vexatious to see him
attacked for it. Some part of it is a little too much laboured, and
the whole too long; but surely it is good and poetical.... You cannot
imagine how I grew to like Lord Byron in my critical intercourse with
him, and how much I am convinced that your friendship and judgment
have contributed to improve both his understanding and his
happiness."]
[Footnote 3: Pope wrote the Prologue to Addison's 'Cato' when it was
acted at Drury Lane, April 13, 1713.]
[Footnote 4: Johnson wrote the Prologue when Garrick opened Drury Lane,
September 15, 1747, with 'The Merchant of Venice'. "It is," says Genest
('English Stage', vol. iv. p. 231), "the best Prologue that was ever
written." Johnson wrote the Prologue to Milton's 'Comus', played at
Drury Lane, April 5, 1750; to Goldsmith's 'Good-Natured Man', played at
Covent Garden, January 29, 1769; and to Hugh Kelly's 'A Word to the
Wise', played at Drury Lane, March 3, 1770.]
[Footnote 5: 'The Distrest Mother', adapted from Racine by Ambrose
Philips, was first played at Drury Lane, March 17, 1712. Addison is
supposed (Genest, 'English Stage', vol. ii. p. 496) to have written the
epilogue.]
[Footnote 6: It is impossible to say to which of Goldsmith's epilogues
Byron refers. A previous editor of Moore's 'Life, etc'., identified it
with his epilogue to Charlotte Lennox's unsuccessful comedy, 'The
Sister', which was once played at Covent Garden, February 18, 1769, and
then withdrawn.]
[Footnote 7: George Colman the Elder, who edited an edition of Beaumont
and Fletcher (10 vols., 1778), wrote the prologue to 'Philaster', when
it was produced at Drury Lane, October 8, 1763.]
* * * * *
251.--To Lord Holland.
Sept. 27, 1812.
I believe this is the third scrawl since yesterday--all about epithets.
I think the epithet "intellectual" won't convey the meaning I intend;
and though I hate compounds, for the present I will try (_col'
permesso_) the word "genius gifted patriots of our line" [1] instead.
Johnson has "many coloured life," a compound----but they are always
best avoided. However, it is the only one in ninety lines [2], but will
be happy to give way to a better. I am ashamed to intrude any more
remembrances on Lady H. or letters upon you; but you are, fortunately
for me, gifted with patience already too often tried by
Your etc., etc.,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: This, as finally altered, stood thus:
"Immortal names emblazon'd on our line."]
[Footnote 2: Reduced to seventy-three lines.]
* * * * *
252.--To Lord Holland.
September 27, 1812.
I have just received your very kind letter, and hope you have met with a
second copy corrected and addressed to Holland House, with some
omissions and this new couplet,
As glared each rising flash, [1] and ghastly shone
The skies with lightnings awful as their own.
As to remarks, I can only say I will alter and acquiesce in any thing.
With regard to the part which Whitbread [2] wishes to omit, I believe
the 'Address' will go off _quicker_ without it, though, like the agility
of the Hottentot, at the expense of its vigour. I leave to your choice
entirely the different specimens of stucco-work; and a _brick_ of your
own will also much improve my Babylonish turret. I should like Elliston
to have it, with your leave. "Adorn" and "mourn" are lawful rhymes in
Pope's 'Death of the Unfortunate Lady'.--Gray has "forlorn" and
"mourn"--and "torn" and "mourn" are in Smollett's famous 'Tears of
Scotland' [3].
As there will probably be an outcry amongst the rejected, I hope the
Committee will testify (if it be needful) that I sent in nothing to the
congress whatever, with or without a name, as your Lordship well knows.
All I have to do with it is with and through you; and though I, of
course, wish to satisfy the audience, I do assure you my first object is
to comply with your request, and in so doing to show the sense I have of
the many obligations you have conferred upon me.
Yours ever,
B.
[Footnote 1: At present:
"As glared the volumed blaze."]
[Footnote 2: Samuel Whitbread (1758-1815) married, in 1789, Elizabeth,
daughter of General Sir Charles Grey, created (1806) Earl Grey, and
sister of the second Earl Grey, of Reform Bill fame. The son of a
wealthy brewer, whose fortune he inherited, he entered Parliament as
M.P. for Bedford in 1790. Raikes, in his 'Journal' (vol. iv. PP. 50,
51), speaks of him, at the outset of his career, as a staunch Foxite,
and "much remarked in society." Comparing him with his brother-in-law
Grey, he says,
"Mr. Whitbread was a more steady character; his appearance was heavy;
he was fond of agriculture, and was very plain and simple in his
tastes. Both were reckoned good debaters in the House, but Grey was
the most eloquent."
An independent Whig, and an advocate for peace with France, Whitbread
supported Fox against Pitt throughout the Napoleonic War, strongly
opposed its renewal after the return of the emperor from Elba, and
interested himself in such measures as moderate Parliamentary reform,
the amendment of the poor law, national education, and retrenchment of
public expenditure. On April 8, 1805, he moved the resolutions which
ended in the impeachment of Lord Melville, and took the lead in the
inquiries, which were made, March, 1809, into the conduct of the Duke of
York. He was a plain, business-like speaker, and a man of such
unimpeachable integrity that Mr., afterwards Lord, Plunket, in a speech
on the Roman Catholic claims, February 28, 1821, called him "the
incorruptible sentinel of the constitution."
When he moved the articles of impeachment against Lord Melville, Canning
scribbled the following impromptu parody of his speech ('Anecdotal
History of the British Parliament', p. 222):
"I'm like Archimedes for science and skill;
I'm like a young prince going straight up a hill;
I'm like--(with respect to the fair be it said)--
I'm like a young lady just bringing to bed.
If you ask why the 11th of June I remember
Much better than April, or May, or November,
On that day, my lords, with truth I assure ye,
My sainted progenitor set up his brewery;
On that day, in the morn, he began brewing beer;
On that day, too, commenced his connubial career;]
On that day he received and he issued his bills;
On that day he cleared out all the cash from his tills;
On that day he died, having finished his summing,
And the angels all cried, 'Here's old Whitbread a-coming!'
So that day still I hail with a smile and a sigh,
For his beer with an E, and his bier with an I;
And still on that day, in the hottest of weather,
The whole Whitbread family dine all together.--
So long as the beams of this house shall support
The roof which o'ershades this respectable Court,
Where Hastings was tried for oppressing the Hindoos;
So long as that sun shall shine in at those windows,
My name shall shine bright as my ancestor's shines,
'Mine' recorded in journals, 'his' blazoned on signs!"
An active member of Parliament, a large landed proprietor, the manager
of his immense brewery in Chiswell Street, Whitbread also found time to
reduce to order the chaotic concerns of Drury Lane Theatre. He was, with
Lord Holland and Harvey Combe, responsible for the request to Byron to
write an address, having first rejected his own address with its
"poulterer's description of the Phoenix." He was fond of private
theatricals, and Dibdin ('Reminiscences', vol. ii. pp. 383, 384) gives
the play-bill of an entertainment given by him at Southill. In the first
play, 'The Happy Return', he took the part of "Margery;" and in the
second, 'Fatal Duplicity', that of "Eglantine," a very young lady, loved
by "Sir Buntybart" and "Sir Brandywine." In his capacity as manager of
Drury Lane, Whitbread is represented by the author of 'Accepted
Addresses' (1813) as addressing "the M--s of H--d"--
"My LORD,--
"As I now have the honour to be
By 'Man'ging' a 'Playhouse' a double M.P.,
In this my address I think fit to complain
Of certain encroachments on great Drury Lane," etc., etc.
Whitbread strongly supported the cause of the Princess of Wales. Miss
Berry ('Journal', vol. iii. p. 25) says that he dictated the letters
which the Princess wrote to the Queen, who had desired that she should
not attend the two drawing-rooms to be held in June, 1814. "They were
good," she adds, "but too long, and sometimes marked by Whitbread's want
of taste."
The strain of his multifarious activities affected both his health and
his mind, and he committed suicide July 6, 1815.]
[Footnote 3:
"By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,
By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd."
(Pope.)
"Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn,
Leave me unbless'd, unpitied, here to mourn."
(Gray.)
"Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn
Thy banish'd peace, thy laurels torn."
(Smollett.)]
* * * * *
253.--To John Murray.
Cheltenham, September 27, 1812.
Dear Sir,--I sent in no 'Address' whatever to the Committee; but out of
nearly one hundred (this is _confidential_), none have been deemed worth
acceptance; and in consequence of their _subsequent_ application to
_me_, I have written a prologue, which _has_ been received, and will be
spoken. The MS. is now in the hands of Lord Holland.
I write this merely to say, that (however it is received by the
audience) you will publish it in the next edition of _Childe Harold_;
and I only beg you at present to keep my name secret till you hear
further from me, and as soon as possible I wish you to have a correct
copy, to do with as you think proper.
I am, yours very truly, BYRON.
P.S.--I should wish a few copies printed off _before_, that the
Newspaper copies may be correct _after_ the _delivery_.
* * * * *
254.--To Lord Holland.
September 28, 1812.
Will this do better? The metaphor is more complete.
Till slowly ebb'd the {_lava of the_/spent volcanic} wave,
And blackening ashes mark'd the Muse's grave.
If not, we will say "burning wave," and instead of "burning clime," in
the line some couplets back, have "glowing."
Is Whitbread determined to castrate all my _cavalry_ lines [1]? I don't
see why t'other house should be spared; besides it is the public, who
ought to know better; and you recollect Johnson's was against similar
buffooneries of Rich's--but, certes, I am not Johnson. [2]
Instead of "effects," say "labours"--"degenerate" will do, will it? Mr.
Betty is no longer a babe, therefore the line cannot be personal. Will
this do?
Till ebb'd the lava of {_the burning_}/{that molten} wave [3]
with "glowing dome," in case you prefer "burning" added to this "wave"
metaphorical. The word "fiery pillar" was suggested by the "pillar of
fire" in the book of Exodus, which went before the Israelites through
the Red Sea. I once thought of saying "like Israel's pillar," and making
it a simile, but I did not know,--the great temptation was leaving the
epithet "fiery" for the supplementary wave. I want to work up that
passage, as it is the only new ground us prologuizers can go upon--
This is the place where, if a poet
Shined in description, he might show it.
If I part with the possibility of a future conflagration, we lessen the
compliment to Shakspeare. However, we will e'en mend it thus:
Yes, it shall be--the magic of that name,
That scorns the scythe of Time, the torch of Flame,
On the same spot, etc., etc.
There--the deuce is in it, if that is not an improvement to Whitbread's
content. Recollect, it is the "name," and not the "magic," that has a
noble contempt for those same weapons. If it were the "magic," my
metaphor would be somewhat of the maddest--so the "name" is the
antecedent. But, my dear Lord, your patience is not quite so
immortal--therefore, with many and sincere thanks, I am,
Yours ever most affectionately.
P.S.--I foresee there will be charges of partiality in the papers; but
you know I sent in no _Address_; and glad both you and I must be that I
did not, for, in that case, their plea had been plausible. I doubt the
Pit will be testy; but conscious innocence (a novel and pleasing
sensation) makes me bold.
[Footnote 1: The lines which were omitted by the Committee ran thus:
"'Nay, lower still, the Drama yet deplores
That late she deigned to crawl upon all-fours.
When Richard roars in Bosworth for a horse,
If you command, the steed must come in course.
If you decree, the Stage must condescend'
To soothe the sickly taste we dare not mend.
_Blame not our judgment should we acquiesce,
And gratify you more by showing less_.
Oh, since your Fiat stamps the Drama's laws,
Forbear to mock us with misplaced applause;
_That public praise be ne'er again disgraced,
From_ {brutes to man recall}/{_babes and brutes redeem} a nation's
taste_;
Then pride shall doubly nerve the actor's powers,
When Reason's voice is echoed back by ours."
The last couplet but one was altered in a subsequent copy, thus:
"'The past reproach let present scenes refute,
Nor shift from man to babe, from babe to brute'."
On February 18, 1811, at Covent Garden, a troop of horses were
introduced in 'Bluebeard'. For the manager, Juvenal's words, "_Lucri
bonus est odor ex re Qualibet_" ('Sat'. xiv. 204) may have been true;
but, as the dressing-room of the equine comedians was under the
orchestra, the stench on the first night was to the audience
intolerable. At the same theatre, April 29, 1811, the horses were again
brought on the stage in Lewis's 'Timour the Tartar'. At the same
theatre, on the following December 26, a live elephant appeared. The
novelty had, however, been anticipated in the Dublin Theatre during the
season of 1771-72 (Genest's 'English Stage', vol. viii. p. 287). At the
Haymarket, and Drury Lane, the introduction of live animals was
ridiculed. 'The Quadrupeds of Quedlinburgh' was given at the Haymarket,
July 26, 1811, as a burlesque on 'Timour the Tartar' and the horses. The
Prologue, by Colman the Younger, attacks the passion for German plays
and animal actors:
"Your taste, recover'd half from foreign quacks,
Takes airings, now, on English horses' backs;
While every modern bard may raise his name,
If not on _lasting praise_, on _stable fame_."
At the Lyceum, during the season 1811-12, 'Quadrupeds, or the
Manager's Last Kick', in which the tailors were mounted on asses and
mules, was given by the Drury Lane Company with success. It was this
introduction of animal performers which Byron wished to attack.]
[Footnote 2: The following are the lines in Johnson's 'Prologue' to
which Byron refers:
"Then crush'd by rules, and weaken'd as refined,
For years the power of Tragedy declined;
From bard to bard the frigid caution crept,
Till Declamation roared, whilst Passion slept.
Yet still did Virtue deign the stage to tread,
Philosophy remained though Nature fled.
But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit,
She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of Wit;
Exulting Folly hailed the joyous Day,
And Pantomime and Song confirmed her sway.
But who the coming changes can presage,
And mark the future periods of the Stage?
Perhaps if skill could distant times explore,
New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store;
Perhaps, where Lear has raved, and Hamlet died,
On flying cars new sorcerers may ride;
Perhaps (for who can guess th' effects of chance?)
Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet may dance."
John Rich (circ. 1682-1761) was the creator of pantomime in England,
which he introduced at Lincoln's Inn Fields in April, 1716, and in
which, under the stage name of Lun, he played the part of Harlequin. At
Lincoln's Inn Fields, January 29, 1728, he produced 'The Beggar's
Opera', which, after being refused at Drury Lane, made "Gay 'rich', and
Rich 'gay'." "Great Faustus" probably alludes to the war between the two
theatres, and the rival productions of 'Harlequin Dr. Faustus' at Drury
Lane in 1723, and of 'The Necromancer, or the History of Dr. Faustus' at
Lincoln's Inn Fields in December of the same year. On December 7, 1732,
Rich opened the new theatre at Covent Garden, of which he remained
manager till his death in 1761.]
[Footnote 3: The form of this couplet, as printed, is as follows:
"Till blackening ashes and lonely wall
Usurp'd the Muse's realm, and mark'd her fall."]
* * * * *
255.--To Lord Holland.
September 28.
I have altered the _middle_ couplet, so as I hope partly to do away with
W.'s objection. I do think, in the present state of the stage, it had
been unpardonable to pass over the horses and Miss Mudie [1], etc. As
Betty is no longer a boy, how can this be applied to him? He is now to
be judged as a man. If he acts still like a boy, the public will but be
more ashamed of their blunder. I have, you see, _now_ taken it for
granted that these things are reformed. I confess, I wish that part of
the _Address_ to stand; but if W. is inexorable, e'en let it go. I have
also new-cast the lines, and softened the hint of future combustion, and
sent them off this morning. Will you have the goodness to add, or
insert, the _approved_ alterations as they arrive? They "come like
shadows, so depart," [2] occupy me, and, I fear, disturb you.
Do not let Mr. W. put his _Address_ into Elliston's hands till you have
settled on these alterations. E. will think it too long:--much depends
on the speaking. I fear it will not bear much curtailing, without
_chasms_ in the sense.
It is certainly too long in the reading; but if Elliston exerts himself,
such a favourite with the public will not be thought tedious. _I_ should
think it so, if _he_ were not to speak it.
Yours ever, etc.
P.S.--On looking again, I doubt my idea of having obviated W.'s
objection. To the other House allusion is _non sequitur_--but I wish to
plead for this part, because the thing really is not to be passed over.
Many afterpieces of the Lyceum by the _same company_ have already
attacked this "Augean _Stable_"--and Johnson, in his prologue against
"Lunn" (the harlequin manager, Rich),--"Hunt,"--"Mahomet," etc. is
surely a fair precedent. [3]
[Footnote 1: For the horses, see p. 156, 'note' 1. Miss Mudie, another
"Phenomenon," with whom the Covent Garden manager hoped to rival the
success of Master Betty, was announced in the 'Morning Post', July 29,
1805, as the "Young Roscia of the Dublin Stage." She appeared at Covent
Garden, November 23, 1805, in the part of "Peggy" in 'The Country Girl',
Miss Brunton being "Alithea," C. Kemble "Harcourt," and Moody "Murray."
Being hissed by the audience, she walked with great composure to the
front of the stage, and said, as reported in the 'Morning Post'
(November 25, 1805)
"Ladies and gentlemen,--I know nothing I have done to offend you, and
has set ('sic') those who are sent here to hiss me; I will be
very much obliged to you to turn them out."
This unfortunate speech made matters worse; the audience refused to hear
her, and her part was finished by Miss Searle.
Miss Mudie was said to be only eight years old. But J. Kemble, being
asked if she were really such a child, answered, "'Child'! Why, sir,
when I was a very young actor in the York Company, that little creature
kept an inn at Tadcaster, and had a large family" (Clark Russell's
'Representative Actors', p. 363, 'note' 2). The 'Morning Post' (April 5,
1806) says that Miss Mudie afterwards joined a children's troupe in
Leicester Place, where, "though deservedly discountenanced at a great
theatre, she will, no doubt, prove an acquisition to the infant
establishment" (Ashton's 'Dawn of the XIXth Century in England', pp.
333-336).]
[Footnote 2: Macbeth, act iv. sc. 1.]
[Footnote 3: For Lun, or Rich, see p. 157, end of 'note' 1. Hunt, in the
notes to Johnson's 'Prologue' (Gilfillan's edition of Johnson's
'Poestical Works', p. 38), is said to be "a famous stage-boxer,
Mahomet, a rope-dancer."]
* * * * *
256.--To William Bankes.
Cheltenham, September 28, 1812.
MY DEAR BANKES,--When you point out to one how people can be intimate at
the distance of some seventy leagues, I will plead guilty to your
charge, and accept your farewell, but not _wittingly_, till you give me
some better reason than my silence, which merely proceeded from a notion
founded on your own declaration of _old_, that you hated writing and
receiving letters. Besides, how was I to find out a man of many
residences? If I had addressed you _now_, it had been to your borough,
where I must have conjectured you were amongst your constituents. So
now, in despite of Mr. N. and Lady W., you shall be as "much better" as
the Hexham post-office will allow me to make you. I do assure you I am
much indebted to you for thinking of me at all, and can't spare you even
from amongst the superabundance of friends with whom you suppose me
surrounded.
You heard that Newstead [1] is sold--the sum L140,000; sixty to remain
in mortgage on the estate for three years, paying interest, of course.
Rochdale is also likely to do well--so my worldly matters are mending. I
have been here some time drinking the waters, simply because there are
waters to drink, and they are very medicinal, and sufficiently
disgusting. In a few days I set out for Lord Jersey's [2], but return
here, where I am quite alone, go out very little, and enjoy in its
fullest extent the _dolce far niente_. What you are about I cannot
guess, even from your date;--not dauncing to the sound of the gitourney
in the Halls of the Lowthers? one of whom is here, ill, poor thing, with
a phthisic. I heard that you passed through here (at the sordid inn
where I first alighted) the very day before I arrived in these parts. We
had a very pleasant set here; at first the Jerseys, Melbournes [3],
Cowpers [4], and Hollands, but all gone; and the only persons I know are
the Rawdons [5] and Oxfords [6], with some later acquaintances of less
brilliant descent.
But I do not trouble them much; and as for your rooms and your
assemblies "they are not dreamed of in our philosophy!!"--Did you read
of a sad accident in the Wye t'other day [7]? A dozen drowned; and Mr.
Rossoe, a corpulent gentleman, preserved by a boat-hook or an eel-spear,
begged, when he heard his wife was saved--no--_lost_--to be thrown in
again!!--as if he could not have thrown himself in, had he wished it;
but this passes for a trait of sensibility. What strange beings men are,
in and out of the Wye!
I have to ask you a thousand pardons for not fulfilling some orders
before I left town; but if you knew all the cursed entanglements I _had_
to wade through, it would be unnecessary to beg your forgiveness.--When
will Parliament (the new one) meet [8]?--in sixty days, on account of
Ireland, I presume: the Irish election will demand a longer period for
completion than the constitutional allotment. Yours, of course, is safe,
and all your side of the question. Salamanca is the ministerial
watchword, and all will go well with you. I hope you will speak more
frequently, I am sure at least you _ought_, and it will be expected. I
see Portman means to stand again. Good night.
Ever yours most affectionately,
[Greek: Mpairon.]
[Footnote 1: Newstead was put up at Garraway's in the autumn of 1812;
but only L90,000 were bid, and the property was therefore withdrawn.
Subsequently it was privately sold to a Mr. Claughton, who found himself
unable to complete the purchase, and forfeited L25,000 on the contract.
Newstead was eventually sold, in November, 1817, to Colonel Wildman,
Byron's Harrow schoolfellow, for L94,500.]
[Footnote 2: For Lady Jersey, see p. 112, 'note' 1 [Footnote 1 of Letter
230]. The following passage, from Byron's 'Detached Thoughts', gives an
account of the party at Middleton:
"In 1812 at Middelton (Lord Jersey's), amongst a goodly company of
Lords, Ladies, and wits, etc., there was poor old Vice Leach, the
lawyer, attempting to play off the fine gentleman. His first
exhibition, an attempt on horseback, I think, to escort the women--God
knows where--in the month of November, ended in a fit of the
Lumbago--as Lord Ogleby says, 'a grievous enemy to Gallantry and
address'--and if he could have but heard Lady Jersey quizzing him (as
I did) next day for the _cause_ of his malady, I don't think that he
would have turned a 'Squire of dames' in a hurry again. He seemed to
me the greatest fool (in that line) I ever saw. This was the last I
saw of old Vice Leach, except in town, where he was creeping into
assemblies, and trying to look young--and gentlemanly.
"Erskine too!--Erskine was there--good but intolerable. He jested, he
talked, he did everything admirably, but then he 'would' be applauded
for the same thing twice over. He would read his own verses, his own
paragraphs, and tell his own story again and again; and then 'the
trial by Jury!!!'--I almost wished it abolished, for I sate next him
at dinner, and, as I had read his published speeches, there was no
occasion to repeat them to me. Chester (the fox-hunter), surnamed
'Cheek Chester,' and I sweated the Claret, being the only two who did
so. Cheek, who loves his bottle, and had no notion of meeting with a
'bonvivant' in a scribbler, in making my eulogy to somebody one
evening, summed it up in 'by G-d, he 'drinks like a Man'!'"]
[Footnote 3: Sir Peniston Lamb, created an Irish baron as Lord
Melbourne in 1770, an Irish viscount in 1780, and an English peer in
1815, married, in 1769, Elizabeth, only daughter of Sir Ralph Milbanke,
of Halnaby, Yorkshire, one of the cleverest and most beautiful women of
the day. Horace Walpole, writing to Mason, May 12, 1778, mentions her
when she was at the height of her beauty.
"On Tuesday," he says, "I supped, after the opera, at Mrs. Meynel's
with a set of the most fashionable company, which, take notice, I very
seldom do now, as I certainly am not of the age to mix often with
young people. Lady Melbourne was standing before the fire, and
adjusting her feathers in the glass. Says she, 'Lord, they say the
stocks will blow up! That will be very comical.'"
Greville ('Memoirs', ed. 1888, vol. vi. p. 248) associates her name with
that of Lord Egremont. Reynolds painted her with her eldest son in his
well-known picture 'Maternal Affection'. Her second son, William,
afterwards Prime Minister, used to say,
"Ah! my mother was a most remarkable woman; not merely clever and
engaging, but the most sagacious woman I ever knew"
('Memoirs of Viscount Melbourne', vol. i. p. 135). Lady Melbourne, whom
Byron spoke of as
"the best, the kindest, and ablest female I have ever known, old or
young,"
died in 1818, her husband in 1828. He thus described her to Lady
Blessington ('Conversations', p. 225):
"Lady M., who might have been my mother, excited an interest in my
feelings that few young women have been able to awaken. She was a
charming person--a sort of modern Aspasia, uniting the energy of a
man's mind with the delicacy and tenderness of a woman's. She wrote
and spoke admirably, because she felt admirably. Envy, malice, hatred,
or uncharitableness, found no place in her feelings. She had all of
philosophy, save its moroseness, and all of nature, save its defects
and general 'faiblesse'; or if some portion of 'faiblesse' attached
to her, it only served to render her more forbearing to the errors of
others. I have often thought, that, with a little more youth, Lady M.
might have turned my head, at all events she often turned my heart, by
bringing me back to mild feelings, when the demon passion was strong
within me. Her mind and heart were as fresh as if only sixteen summers
had flown over her, instead of four times that number."]
[Footnote 4: Peter, fifth Earl Cowper (1778-1837), married, in 1805
Emily Mary Lamb, daughter of Lord Melbourne; she married, secondly, in
1839, Lord Palmerston.]
[Footnote 5: Francis Rawdon, second Earl of Moira (1754-1826), created
Lord Rawdon (1783), and Marquis of Hastings (1817), married, in 1804,
the Countess of Loudoun.]
[Footnote 6: Edward Harley (1773-1848) succeeded his uncle as fifth Earl
of Oxford in 1790, and married, in 1794, Jane Elizabeth, daughter of the
Rev. James Scott, Vicar of Itchin, Hants. It is probably of Lady Oxford,
whose picture was painted by Hoppner, that Byron spoke to Lady
Blessington ('Conversations', p. 255),
"Even now the autumnal charms of Lady----are remembered by me with
more than admiration. She resembled a landscape by Claude Lorraine,
with a setting sun, her beauties enhanced by the knowledge that they
were shedding their last dying beams, which threw a radiance around. A
woman... is only grateful for her 'first' and 'last' conquest. The
first of poor dear Lady----'s was achieved before I entered on this
world of care; but the 'last', I do flatter myself, was reserved for
me, and a 'bonne bouche' it was."
The following passage certainly relates to Lady Oxford:
"There was a lady at that time," said Byron (Medwin's 'Conversations',
pp. 93, 94), "double my own age, the mother of several children who
were perfect angels, with whom I had formed a 'liaison' that continued
without interruption for eight months. The autumn of a beauty like
her's is preferable to the spring in others. She told me she was never
in love till she was thirty; and I thought myself so with her when she
was forty. I never felt a stronger passion; which she returned with
equal ardour.... She had been sacrificed, almost before she was a
woman, to one whose mind and body were equally contemptible in the
scale of creation; and on whom she bestowed a numerous family, to
which the law gave him the right to be called father. Strange as it
may seem, she gained (as all women do) an influence over me so strong,
that I had great difficulty in breaking with her, even when I knew she
had been inconstant to me: and once was on the point of going abroad
with her, and narrowly escaped this folly."
To be near the Oxfords at Eywood, in Herefordshire, Byron took Kinsham
Court, a dower-house of the family, where Bishop Harley died in 1788. At
one time, as is evident from his correspondence with Hanson, he was bent
on going abroad with Lady Oxford. In the end he only accompanied her to
Portsmouth. Of Lady Oxford, Uvedale Price wrote thus to Rogers (Clayden,
'Rogers and his Contemporaries', vol. i. pp. 397, 398):
"This is a melancholy subject"--[the death, by consumption of Lord
Aberdeen's children]--"and I must go to another. Poor Lady Oxford! I
had heard with great concern of her dangerous illness, but hoped she
might get through it, and was much, very much grieved to hear that it
had ended fatally. I had, as you know, lived a great deal with her
from the time she came into this country, immediately after her
marriage; but for some years past, since she went abroad, had scarcely
had any correspondence or intercourse with her, till I met her in town
last spring. I then saw her twice, and both times she seemed so
overjoyed to see an old friend, and expressed her joy so naturally and
cordially, that I felt no less overjoyed at seeing her after so long
an absence. She talked, with great satisfaction, of our meeting for a
longer time this next spring, little thinking of an eternal
separation. There could not, in all respects, be a more ill-matched
pair than herself and Lord Oxford, or a stronger instance of the cruel
sports of Venus, or, rather, of Hymen--
'Cui placet impares
Formas atque animos sub juga ahenea
Saevo mittere cum joco.'
"It has been said that she was, in some measure, forced into the
match. Had she been united to a man whom she had loved, esteemed, and
respected, she herself might have been generally respected and
esteemed, as well as loved; but in her situation, to keep clear of all
misconduct required a strong mind or a cold heart; perhaps both, and
she had neither. Her failings were in no small degree the effect of
circumstances; her amiable qualities all her own. There was something
about her, in spite of her errors, remarkably attaching, and that
something was not merely her beauty. 'Kindness has resistless charms,'
and she was full of affectionate kindness to those she loved, whether
as friends or as lovers. As a friend, I always found her the same,
never at all changeful or capricious. As I am not a very rigid
moralist, and am extremely open to kindness, 'I could have better
spared a better woman.'"]
[Footnote 7: An account of the accident is given in the Chronicle of the
'Annual Register', September 21, 1812. The party consisted of ten
people, three of whom were saved. Among those rescued was Mr.
Rothery--not Rossoe, as Byron gives it.]
[Footnote 8: The new Parliament met November 30, 1812. Wellington won
the battle of Salamanca on the previous July 22.]
* * * * *
257.--To Lord Holland.
September 29, 1812.
Shakespeare certainly ceased to reign in _one_ of his kingdoms, as
George III. did in America, and George IV. [1] may in Ireland? Now, we
have nothing to do out of our own realms, and when the monarchy was
gone, his majesty had but a barren sceptre. I have _cut away_, you will
see, and altered, but make it what you please; only I do implore, for my
_own_ gratification, one lash on those accursed quadrupeds--"a long
shot, Sir Lucius, if you love me." [2] I have altered "wave," etc., and
the "fire," and so forth for the timid.
Let me hear from you when convenient, and believe me, etc.
P.S.--Do let _that_ stand, and cut out elsewhere. I shall choke, if we
must overlook their damned menagerie.
[Footnote 1: Some objection, it appears, had been made to the passage,
"and Shakspeare _ceased to reign_."]
[Footnote 2: Bob Acres, in 'The Rivals' (act v. se. 3), says, "A long
shot, Sir Lucius, if you love me."]
* * * * *
258.--To Lord Holland.
September 30, 1812.
I send you the most I can make of it; for I am not so well as I was, and
find I "pull in resolution." [1]
I wish much to see you, and will be at Tetbury by twelve on Saturday;
and from thence I go on to Lord Jersey's. It is impossible not to allude
to the degraded state of the Stage, but I have lightened _it_, and
endeavoured to obviate your _other_ objections. There is a new couplet
for Sheridan, allusive to his Monody [2]. All the alterations I have
marked thus ],--as you will see by comparison with the other copy. I
have cudgelled my brains with the greatest willingness, and only wish I
had more time to have done better.
You will find a sort of clap-trap laudatory couplet inserted for the
quiet of the Committee [3], and I have added, towards the end, the
couplet you were pleased to _like_. The whole Address is seventy-three
lines, still perhaps too long; and, if shortened, you will save time,
but, I fear, a little of what I meant for sense also.
With myriads of thanks, I am ever, etc.
My sixteenth edition of respects to Lady H.--How she must laugh at all
this!
I wish Murray, my publisher, to print off some copies as soon as your
Lordship returns to town--it will ensure correctness in the papers
afterwards.
[Footnote 1: 'Macbeth', act v. sc. 5.]
[Footnote 2: Sheridan's 'Monody on Garrick'.]
[Footnote 3: The Committee of Selection consisted, says the 'Satirist'
(November 1, 1812, p. 395),
"of one peer and two commoners, one poet and two prosers, one Lord and
two Brewers; and the only points in which they coincided were in being
all three parliament men, all three politicians, all three in
opposition to the Government of the country. Their names, as we
understand, were Vassal Holland, Samuel Whitbread, and Harvey
Christian Combe."]
* * * * *
259.--To Lord Holland.
Far be from him that hour which asks in vain
Tears such as flow for Garrick in his strain;
_or_,
Far be that hour that vainly asks in turn
Such verse for him as {_crown'd his_/wept o'er} Garrick's urn.
September 30, 1812.
Will you choose between these added to the lines on Sheridan [1]?
I think they will wind up the panegyric, and agree with the train of
thought preceding them.
Now, one word as to the Committee--how could they resolve on a rough
copy of an _Address_ never sent in, unless you had been good enough to
retain in memory, or on paper, the thing they have been good enough to
adopt? By the by, the circumstances of the case should make the
Committee less _avidus gloriae_, for all praise of them would look plaguy
suspicious. If necessary to be stated at all, the simple facts bear them
out. They surely had a right to act as they pleased. My sole object is
one which, I trust, my whole conduct has shown; viz. that I did nothing
insidious--sent in no Address _whatever_--but, when applied to, did my
best for them and myself; but, above all, that there was no undue
partiality, which will be what the rejected will endeavour to make out.
Fortunately--most fortunately--I sent in no lines on the occasion. For I
am sure that had they, in that case, been preferred, it would have been
asserted that _I_ was known, and owed the preference to private
friendship. This is what we shall probably have to encounter; but, if
once spoken and approved, we sha'n't be much embarrassed by their
brilliant conjectures; and, as to criticism, an _old_ author, like an
old bull, grows cooler (or ought) at every baiting.
The only thing would be to avoid a party on the night of
delivery--afterwards, the more the better, and the whole transaction
inevitably tends to a good deal of discussion. Murray tells me there are
myriads of ironical Addresses [2] ready--_some_, in imitation of what is
called _my style_. If they are as good as the 'Probationary Odes' [3],
or Hawkins's 'Pipe of Tobacco' [4], it will not be bad fun for the
imitated.
Ever, etc.
[Footnote 1: These added lines, as may be seen by reference to the
printed Address, were not retained.]
[Footnote 2: Probably the reference is to 'Rejected Addresses, or the
New Theatrum Poetarum' (1812), by James (1775-1839) and Horace
(1779-1849) Smith. "Cui Bono?" the parody on Byron, is the joint
composition of James and Horace. The manuscript was offered to Murray
for L20, but declined by him. It was afterwards published by John
Miller, of Bow Street, Covent Garden, who also published 'Horace in
London'.]
[Footnote 3: 'Probationary Odes', which generally forms, with 'Political
Eclogues', the third portion of the 'Rolliad', is really distinct from
that work. It is the result of an imaginary contest for the
laureate-ship. Each candidate was to deliver a "Probationary Birthday
Ode," and among the candidates are Dr. Pretyman, Archbishop Markham,
Thomas and Joseph Warton, Sir Cecil Wray, Sir Joseph Mawbey, Henry
Dundas, Lord Thurlow, and other Tories of the day. The plan of the work
is said to have been suggested by Joseph Richardson (1755-1803), who
wrote Odes iv. (Sir Richard Hill) and xix. (Lord Mountmorres).]
[Footnote 4: 'In Praise of a Pipe of Tobacco' (1736), written by Isaac
Hawkins Browne (1705-1760), was an ode in imitation of Swift, Pope,
Thomson, and other contemporary poets. Browne represented Wenlock in the
Whig interest in the Parliaments of 1744 and 1747. Johnson spoke of him
(Boswell, 'Johnson', April 5, 1775) as "one of the first wits of this
country," who "got into Parliament, and never opened his mouth."]
* * * * *
260.--To Lord Holland.
October 2, 1812.
A copy of this _still altered_ is sent by the post, but this will arrive
first. It must be "humbler"--"_yet aspiring_" does away the modesty,
and, after all, _truth is truth_. Besides, there is a puff direct
altered, to please your _plaguy renters_.
I shall be at Tetbury by 12 or 1--but send this for you to ponder over.
There are several little things marked thus / altered for your perusal.
I have dismounted the cavalry, and, I hope, arranged to your general
satisfaction.
Ever, etc.
At Tetbury by noon.--I hope, after it is sent, there will be no more
elisions. It is not now so long--73 lines--two less than allotted. I
will alter all Committee objections, but I hope you won't permit
_Elliston_ to have any _voice_ whatever,--except in speaking it.
* * * * *
261.--To John Murray.
Cheltenham, Oct. 12, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--I have a _very strong objection_ to the engraving of the
portrait [1], and request that it may, on no account, be prefixed; but
let _all_ the proofs be burnt, and the plate broken. I will be at the
expense which has been incurred; it is but fair that _I_ should, since I
cannot permit the publication. I beg, as a particular favour, that you
will lose no time in having this done, for which I have reasons that I
will state when I see you. Forgive all the trouble I have occasioned
you.
I have received no account of the reception of the _Address_ [2], but
see it is vituperated in the papers, which does not much embarrass an
_old author_. I leave it to your own judgment to add it, or not, to your
next edition when required. Pray comply _strictly_ with my wishes as to
the engraving, and believe me, etc.
Yours very truly,
BYRON.
P.S.--Favour me with an answer, as I shall not be easy until I hear that
the _proofs_, etc., are destroyed. I hear that the _Satirist_ has
reviewed _Childe Harold_ [3], in what manner I need not ask; but I wish
to know if the old personalities are revived? I have a better reason for
asking this than any that merely concerns myself; but in publications of
that kind, others, particularly female names, are sometimes introduced.
[Footnote 1: A miniature by Sanders. Besides this miniature, Sanders had
also painted a full-length of Byron, from which the portrait prefixed to
the quarto edition of Moore's 'Life' is engraved. In reference to the
latter picture, Byron says, in a note to Rogers,
"If you think the picture you saw at Murray's worth your acceptance,
it is yours; and you may put a glove or mask on it, if you like"
(Moore).]
[Footnote 2: On Saturday, October 10, Drury Lane reopened with 'The
Devil to Pay' and 'Hamlet'. Then, after the whole body of actors had
sung "God save the King" and "Rule, Britannia," Elliston delivered
Byron's address.]
[Footnote 3: 'The Satirist, a Monthly Meteor' (see 'Letters', vol. i. p.
321, 'note' 3 [Footnote 3 of Letter 159]), ran from October, 1807, to
1814. Up to 1812 it was the property of George Manners, who sold it in
that year to W. Jerdan. It reviewed 'Childe Harold' in October, 1812
(pp. 344-358); and again in December of the same year (pp. 542-550). In
the first of the two notices, the 'Satirist' quotes the "judgment of our
predecessors," that unless Byron "improved wonderfully, he could never
be a poet," and continues thus:
"It is with unaffected satisfaction we find that he has improved
wonderfully, and that he is a poet. Indeed, when we consider the
comparatively short interval which has elapsed, and contrast the
character of his recent with that of his early work, we confess
ourselves astonished at the intellectual progress which Lord Byron has
made, and are happy to hold him up as another example of the
extraordinary effects of study and cultivation, 'even' on minds
apparently of the most unpromising description."
The reviewer severely condemns the morbid bitterness of the poet's
thought and feeling, but yet affirms that the poems
"abound with beautiful imagery, clothed in a diction free, forcible,
and various. 'Childe Harold', although avowedly a fragment, contains
many fragments which would do honour to any poet, of any period, in
any country."]
* * * * *
262.--To Lord Holland.
Cheltenham, Oct. 14, 1812.
MY DEAR LORD,--I perceive that the papers, yea, even Perry's [1], are
somewhat ruffled at the injudicious preference of the Committee. My
friend Perry has, indeed, 'et tu, Brute'-d me rather scurvily, for which
I will send him, for the 'Morning Chronicle', the next epigram I
scribble, as a token of my full forgiveness.
Do the Committee mean to enter into no explanation of their proceedings?
You must see there is a leaning towards a charge of partiality. You
will, at least, acquit me of any great anxiety to push myself before so
many elder and better anonymous, to whom the twenty guineas (which I
take to be about two thousand pounds 'Bank' currency) and the honour
would have been equally welcome. "Honour," I see, "hath skill in
paragraph-writing."
I wish to know how it went off at the second reading, and whether any
one has had the grace to give it a glance of approbation. I have seen no
paper but Perry's and two Sunday ones. Perry is severe, and the others
silent. If, however, you and your Committee are not now dissatisfied
with your own judgments, I shall not much embarrass myself about the
brilliant remarks of the journals. My own opinion upon it is what it
always was, perhaps pretty near that of the public.
Believe me, my dear Lord, etc., etc.
P.S.--My best respects to Lady H., whose smiles will be very
consolatory, even at this distance.
[Footnote 1: James Perry (1756-1821) purchased, in 1789, the 'Morning
Chronicle', originally established by Woodfall in 1769. In Perry's hands
the paper became the leading organ of the Whigs. He was the first editor
to introduce a succession of parliamentary reporters. He gathered round
him a remarkable staff of contributors, including Ricardo, Sir James
Mackintosh, Porson (who married his sister), Charles Lamb, Sheridan,
Coleridge, Hazlitt, Lord Campbell, Moore, Campbell, Byron, and Burns.
The 'Morning Chronicle' (October 12, 1812) says:
"Mr. Elliston then came forward and delivered the following 'Prize'
Address. We cannot boast of the eloquence of the delivery. It was
neither gracefully nor correctly recited. The merits of the production
itself we submit to the criticism of our readers. We cannot suppose
that it was selected as the most poetical composition of all the
scores that were submitted to the Committee. But, perhaps by its
tenor, by its allusions to the fire, to Garrick, to Siddons, and to
Sheridan, it was thought most applicable to the occasion,
notwithstanding its being in parts unmusical, and in general tame."
Again (October 14), in a notice of 'Rejected Addresses', the 'Morning
Chronicle' returns to the subject:
"A wag has already published a small volume of 'Addresses rejected',
in which, with admirable wit, all the poets of the day are assembled,
contesting for the Prize Address at Drury Lane. And certainly he has
assigned to the pen of Lord B. a superior 'poem' to that which has
gained the prize."
The Address was also severely handled in 'A Critique on the Address
written by Lord Byron, which was Spoken at the opening of the New
Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, October' 10, 1812. By Lord--------(London,
no date). The author is "astonished at the glaring faults and general
insipidity" of the address, and, after a detailed criticism, concludes
that "public indignation" will sympathize with the rejected poets, and
"pursue the rival patrons and the rival bard."
Rogers, writing to Moore, October 22, 1812 ('Memoirs, etc., of Thomas
Moore', vol. viii. p. 123), says,
"Poor Byron! what I hear and read of his prologue makes me very angry.
Of such value is public favour! So a man is to be tried by a copy of
verses thrown off perhaps at hazard, and 'invita Minerva!'"]
* * * * *
263.--To John Hanson.
Cheltenham, Octr. 18th, 1812.
Dear Sir,--With perfect confidence in you I sign the note; but is not
Claughton's delay very strange? let us take care what we are about. I
answered his letter, which I enclose to you, very _cautiously;_ the
wines and China, etc., I will not demur much upon; but the _vase_ and
cup (not the _skull cup_) and some little coffee things brought from the
East, or made for the purpose of containing relics brought from thence,
I will not part with, and if he refuses to ratify, I will take such
steps as the Law will allow on the form of the contract for compelling
him to ratify it.
Pray write. I am invited to Lord O.'s and Lord H.'s; but if you wish
very much to meet me I can come to town.
I suppose the tythe purchase will be made in my name. What is to be done
with Deardon? [1]
Mrs. M[assingberd] [2] is dead, and I would wish something settled for
the Daughter who is still responsible. Will you give a glance into that
business, and if possible first settle something about the Annuities.
I shall perhaps draw within a L100 next week, but I will delay for your
answer on C.'s business.
Ever yours, sincerely and affectionately,
BYRON.
My love to all the family.
I wish to do something for young Rushton, if practicable at _Rochdale_;
if not, think of some situation where he might occupy himself to avoid
Idleness, in the mean time.
[Footnote 1: Deardon was the lessee of the Rochdale coal-pits.
"When Mr. France was here," writes Mrs. Byron to Hanson, July 13, 1811
(Koelbing's 'Englische Studien', vol. xxv. p. I53), "he told me there
had been an injunction procured to prevent Deardin from working the
Coal Pits that was in dispute between Lord Byron and him, but since
France was here, there has been a Man from Lancashire who says they
are worked by Deardin the same as ever. I also heard that the Person
you sent down to take an account of the Coals was bribed by Deardin,
and did not give an account of half of what was got."]
[Footnote 2: For Mrs. Massingberd, see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 100, at end
of 'note' 3 [Footnote 1 of Letter 52]. Byron's pecuniary transactions,
though not unimportant in their influence on his career, are difficult
to unravel. The following statement, in his own handwriting, with regard
to the Annuities was apparently prepared for some legal proceedings, and
is dated January 16, 1812:
"Lord Byron, to the best of his knowledge and recollection, in Dec.,
1805--January, 1806 applied to King, in consequence of an
advertisement in the papers, who acquainted Lord Byron that his
minority prevented all money transactions without the security of
competent persons. Through Mr. K. he became acquainted with Mr.
Dellevelly, another of the tribe of Israel, and subsequently with a
Mr. Howard of Golden Square.
"After many delays, during which Lord B. had interviews with Howard,
once, he thinks, in Golden Square, but more frequently in Piccadilly,
Mrs. M[assingberd] agreed to become security jointly with her
daughter. Lord B. knows Howard's person perfectly well, has not seen
him subsequent to the transaction, but recollects Howard's mentioning
to him that he, Lord B., was acting imprudently, stating that he made
it a rule to advise young men against such proceedings. Lord B.
recollects, on the day on which the money was paid, that he remained
in the next room till the papers were signed, Mrs. M[assingberd]
having stated that the parties wished him to be kept out of sight
during the business, and wished to avoid even mentioning his name.
Mrs. M[assingberd] deducted the interest for two years and a half, and
L100 for Howard's papers."
Two other Annuities were effected, in both of which Mrs. Massingberd
figured as a security, and in one the manager of Dorant's Hotel. It was
the interest on these minority loans which crippled Byron. Two were
still unpaid in 1817.]
* * * * *
264.--To John Murray.
Cheltenham, Oct. 18, 1812,
Dear Sir,--Will you have the goodness to get this Parody of a peculiar
kind [1] (for all the first lines are _Busby's_ entire), inserted in
several of the papers (_correctly_--and copied _correctly; my hand_ is
difficult)--particularly the 'Morning Chronicle'? Tell Mr. Perry I
forgive him all he has said, and may say against _my address_, but he
will allow me to deal with the Doctor--(_audi alteram partem_)--and not
_betray_ me. I cannot think what has befallen Mr. Perry, for of yore we
were very good friends;--but no matter, only get this inserted.
I have a poem on Waltzing for _you_, of which I make _you_ a present;
but it must be anonymous. It is in the old style of 'English Bards, and
Scotch Reviewers'.
Ever yours,
BYRON.
P.S.--With the next edition of 'Childe Harold' you may print the first
fifty or a hundred opening lines of the 'Curse of Minerva' [2] down to
the couplet beginning
Mortal ('twas thus she spake), etc.
Of course, the moment the Satire begins, there you will stop, and the
opening is the best part.
[Footnote 1: The 'Parenthetical Address', "By Dr. Plagiary," is a parody
by Byron of Dr, Busby's 'Address', the original of which will be found
in the 'Genuine Rejected Addresses', as well as parodied in 'Rejected
Addresses' ("Architectural Atoms"). On October 14 young Busby forced his
way on to the stage of Drury Lane, attempted to recite his father's
address, and was taken into custody. On the next night, Dr. Busby,
speaking from one of the boxes, obtained a hearing for his son, who
could not, however, make his voice heard in the theatre. Then another
"rejected" author tried to recite his composition, but was hooted down.
Order was restored by Raymond reminding the audience that the
Chamberlain's licence was necessary for all stage speeches. To the
failure of the younger Busby (himself a competitor and the author of an
"Unalogue" of fifty-six lines) to make himself heard, Byron alludes in
the stage direction to the 'Parenthetical Address'--"to be spoken in an
inarticulate voice by Master P." The 'Parenthetical Address' appeared
in the 'Morning Chronicle' for October 23, 1812. In the same issue was
printed a long statement by Dr. Busby, in which, after paying a
compliment to Byron's "poetical genius," he insisted that the Committee
of Drury Lane had broken faith by not choosing one of the addresses sent
in by competitors. (See references to Dr. Busby in 'Poems', vol. i. pp.
481 and 485, 'note' 1.) Dr. Thomas Busby (1755-1838) composed the music
for Holcroft's 'Tale of Mystery', the first musical melodrama produced
on the English stage (Covent Garden, November 13, 1802). He was for some
time assistant editor of the 'Morning Post', and Parliamentary reporter
for the 'London Courant'; wrote on musical subjects, taught languages
and music, and translated Lucretius into rhymed verse (1813).]
[Footnote 2: 'The Curse of Minerva,' written at Athens, in 1811, was not
published as a whole till 1828. But the first fifty-four lines appeared
in Canto III. of 'The Corsair' (1814). (See 'The Curse of Minerva:'
Introductory note, 'Poems,' 1898, vol. i. p. 453.)]
* * * * *
265.--To Robert Rushton.
Cheltenham, Oct. 18th, 1812.
Robert,--I hope you continue as much as possible to apply yourself to
_Accounts_ and Land-Measurement, etc. Whatever change may take place
about Newstead, there will be none as to you and Mr. Murray. It is
intended to place you in a situation in Rochdale for which your
pursuance of the Studies I recommend will best fit you. Let me hear from
you; is your health improved since I was last at the Abbey? In the mean
time, if any accident occur to me, you are provided for in my will, and
if not, you will always find in your Master a sincere Friend.
B.
* * * * *
266.--To John Murray.
Oct. 19, 1812.
Dear Sir,--Many thanks, but I _must_ pay the 'damage', and will thank
you to tell me the amount for the engraving. I think the 'Rejected
Addresses' by far the best thing of the kind since the 'Rolliad', and
wish _you_ had published them. Tell the author "I forgive him, were be
twenty times our satirist;" and think his imitations not at all inferior
to the famous ones of Hawkins Browne. He must be a man of very lively
wit, and much less scurrilous than Wits often are: altogether, I very
much admire the performance, and wish it all success. The 'Satirist' has
taken a _new_ tone, as you will see: we have now, I think, finished with
'C. H.'s' critics. I have in 'hand' a 'Satire' on 'Waltzing', which you
must publish anonymously: it is not long, not quite 200 lines, but will
make a very small boarded pamphlet. In a few days you shall have it.
Ever yours,
BYRON.
P.S.--The editor of the 'Satirist' almost ought to be thanked for his
revocation; it is done handsomely, after five years' warfare.
* * * * *
267.--To John Hanson.
Octr. 22d, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--I enclose you Mr. C[laughton]'s letter, from which you
yourself will judge of my own. I insisted on the _contract_, and said,
_if_ I gave up the wines, etc., it would be as a _gift_. He admits the
validity, as you perceive. I told him that _I_ wished to avoid raising
difficulties and in all respects to fulfil the bargain.
I am going to Lord Oxford's, _Eywood, Presteigne, Hereford_. In my way
back I will take Farleigh, if you are not returned to London before.
I wish to take a small _house_ for the winter any where not remote from
St. James's. Will you arrange this for me?--and think of young Rushton,
whom I promised to provide for, and must begin to think of it; he might
be a _sub_-Tythe _collector_, or a Bailiff to our agent at Rochdale, or
many other things. He has had a fair education and was well disposed; at
all events, he must no longer remain in idleness.
Let the Mule be sold and the dogs.
Pray let me hear from you when convenient, and
Believe me, ever yours truly,
BYRON.
My best remembrances to all.
I shall draw for _fifty_ this week.
Is anything done about Miss M[assingberd]? You have not mentioned her.
* * * * *
268.--To John Murray.
Oct. 23, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--Thanks, as usual. You go on boldly; but have a care of
_glutting_ the public, who have by this time had enough of 'C. H.'
'Waltz' shall be prepared. It is rather above 200 lines, with an
introductory letter to the Publisher. I think of publishing, with 'C.
H.', the opening lines of the '_Curse of Minerva_' as far as the first
speech of Pallas,--because some of the readers like that part better
than any I have ever written; and as it contains nothing to affect the
subject of the subsequent portion, it will find a place as a
_descriptive fragment_.
The _plate_ is _broken_? between ourselves, it was unlike the picture;
and besides, upon the whole, the frontispiece of an author's visage is
but a paltry exhibition. At all events, _this_ would have been no
recommendation to the book. I am sure Sanders would not have _survived_
the engraving. By the by, the _picture_ may remain with _you_ or _him_
(which you please), till my return. The _one_ of two remaining copies is
at your service till I can give you a _better_; the other must be
_burned peremptorily_. Again, do not forget that I have an account with
you, and _that_ this is _included_. I give you too much TROUBLE to allow
you to incur EXPENSE also.
You best know how far this "Address Riot" will affect the future sale of
'C. H.' I like the volume of "_rejected A._" better and better. The
other parody which Perry has received is _mine_ also (I believe). It is
Dr. Busby's speech versified. You are removing to Albemarle Street, I
find, and I rejoice that we shall be nearer neighbours. I am going to
Lord Oxford's, but letters here will be forwarded. When at leisure, all
communications from you will be willingly received by the humblest of
your scribes. Did Mr. Ward write the review of H. Tooke's Life? [1] It
is excellent.
Yours ever,
B.
[Footnote 1: See 'Quarterly Review', vol. vii. p. 313. The article
alluded to was written by the Hon. J. W. Ward, afterwards Earl of
Dudley.]
* * * * *
269.--To John Hanson.
Eywood, Presteign, Hereford, Octr. 31st, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--The inclosed bill [1] will convince you how anxious I must be
for the payment of Claughton's first instalment; though it has been sent
in without due notice, I cannot blame Mr. Davies who must feel very
anxious to get rid of the business. Press C., and let me have an answer
whenever you can to this Place.
Yours ever,
B.
P.S.--I am at _Lord Oxford's_, Eywood, as above.
[Footnote 1: The bill was Byron's for L1500, and the enclosure ran as
follows:
"Lord Byron.
"A Bill for L1500, drawn by Scrope B. Davies, lies due at Sir _James
Esdaile_ and Co's., No. 21, _Lombard-Street_.
"All Drafts intended for the Payment of Bills, to be brought before
Half past Three o'Clock.
"Please to call between 3 and Five o'Clock."
The same day Byron writes a second letter to Hanson:
"Do pray press Claughton, as Mr. D.'s business must be settled at all
events. I send you his letter, and I am more uncomfortable than I can
possibly express myself upon the subject. Pray write."]
* * * * *
270.--To John Hanson.
Presteign, Novr. 8th, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--Not being able (and to-day being Sunday also) to procure a
stamp, as the Post town is very remote, I must request this letter to be
considered as an Order for paying fifteen hundred pounds to S.B. Davies,
Esq., and the same sum to your own account for the Tythe purchase. Mr.
D.'s receipt can be indorsed on the bond.
I shall be in London the latter end of the week. I set out from this
place on the 12th. As to Mr. C., the Law must decide between us; I shall
abide by the Contract. Your answer will not reach me in time, so do not
write to me while here.
Pray let Mr. D. be paid and you also--come what may.[1] I always foresaw
that C. would _shirk_; but he did it with his eyes open. What question
can arise as to the title? has it never been examined? I never heard of
it before, and surely, in all our law suits, that question must have
come to issue.
I hope we shall meet in town. I will wait on you the moment I arrive.
My best respects to your family; believe me, Ever yours sincerely,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Byron was prepared to make some sacrifices to extricate
himself from debt, or go abroad. The following letter to Hanson is dated
December 10, 1812:
"DEAR SIR,--I have to request that you will pay the bearer (my Groom)
the wages due to him (12 pds. 10s.), and dismiss him immediately, as I
have given up my horses, and place the sum to my account.
"Ever yours,
"BYRON."
Four days later, December 14, 1812, he writes again to Hanson:
"DEAR SIR,--I request your attention to the enclosed. See what can be
done with Howard, and urge Claughton. If this kind of thing continues,
I must quit a country which my debts render uninhabitable,
notwithstanding every sacrifice on my part.
"Yours ever,
"B."]
* * * * *
271.--To John Hanson.
Presteign, Novr. 16th, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--The floods having rendered the road impassable, I am detained
here, but trust by the latter end of the week to proceed to Cheltenham,
where I shall expect a letter from you to tell me if I am wanted in
town.
I shall not be in time for the Prince's address; but I wish you to write
down for my _Parliamentary_ robes (Mrs. Chaworth had them, at least Mrs.
Clarke the mother); though I rather think those were the Coronation and
not the House robes. At least enquire.
I hope Mr. D. is paid; and, if Mr. C. demurs, we must bring an action
according to Contract.
I trust you are well, and well doing in my behalf and your own.
Ever yours most sincerely,
B.
* * * * *
272.--To John Murray.
Cheltenham, November 22, 1812.
DEAR SIR,--On my return here from Lord Oxford's, I found your obliging
note, and will thank you to retain the letters, and any other subsequent
ones to the same address, till I arrive in town to claim them, which
will probably be in a few days. I have in charge a curious and very long
MS. poem, written by Lord Brooke (the _friend_ of Sir _Philip Sidney_),
which I wish to submit to the inspection of Mr. Gifford, with the
following queries:--first, whether it has ever been published, and
secondly (if not), whether it is worth publication? It is from Lord
Oxford's Library, and must have escaped or been overlooked amongst the
MSS. of the Harleian Miscellany. The writing is Lord Brooke's, except a
different hand towards the close. It is very long, and in the six-line
stanza. It is not for me to hazard an opinion upon its merits; but I
would take the Liberty, if not too troublesome, to submit it to Mr.
Gifford's judgment, which, from his excellent edition of Massinger, I
should conceive to be as decisive on the writings of that age as on
those of our own.
Now for a less agreeable and important topic.--How came Mr. Mac-Somebody
[1], without consulting you or me, to prefix the Address to his volume
of "_dejected addresses?"_ Is not this somewhat larcenous? I think the
ceremony of leave might have been asked, though I have no objection to
the thing itself; and leave the "hundred and eleven" to tire themselves
with "base comparisons." I should think the ingenuous public tolerably
sick of the subject, and, except the parodies, I have not interfered,
nor shall; indeed I did not know that Dr. Busby had published his
apologetical letter and postscript [2], or I should have recalled them.
But, I confess, I looked upon his conduct in a different light before
its appearance. I see some mountebank has taken Alderman Birch's name
[3] to vituperate the Doctor; he had much better have pilfered his
pastry, which I should imagine the more valuable ingredient--at least
for a Puff.--Pray secure me a copy of Woodfall's new 'Junius' [4],
and believe me,
Dear Sir, yours very sincerely,
B.
[Footnote 1: B. McMillan]
[Footnote 2: This probably refers to Busby's apologetic letter in the
'Morning Chronicle' for October 23, 1812.]
[Footnote 3: Alderman Birch was a pastry-cook in Cornhill.]
[Footnote 4: In the Catalogue of Byron's books, sold April 5, 1816,
appear two copies of 'Junius':
"Junius's Letters, 2 vol. _russia_, 1806."
"Junius's Letters, by Woodfall, 3 vol., _Large Paper_, 1812."]
* * * * *
273.--To William Bankes.
December 26, [1812].
The multitude of your recommendations has already superseded my humble
endeavours to be of use to you; and, indeed, most of my principal
friends are returned, Leake from Joannina, Canning and Adair from the
city of the Faithful, and at Smyrna no letter is necessary, as the
consuls are always willing to do every thing for personages of
respectability. I have sent you _three_; one to Gibraltar, which, though
of no great necessity, will, perhaps, put you on a more intimate footing
with a very pleasant family there. You will very soon find out that a
man of any consequence has very little occasion for any letters but to
ministers and bankers, and of them we have already plenty, I will be
sworn.
It is by no means improbable that I shall go in the spring; and if you
will fix any place of rendezvous about August, I will _write_ or _join_
you.--When in Albania, I wish you would inquire after Dervise Tahiri and
Vascillie (or Bazil), and make my respects to the viziers, both there
and in the Morea. If you mention my name to Suleyman of Thebes, I think
it will not hurt you; if I had my dragoman, or wrote Turkish, I could
have given you letters of _real service;_ but to the English they are
hardly requisite, and the Greeks themselves can be of little advantage.
Liston [1] you know already, and I do not, as he was not then minister.
Mind you visit Ephesus and the Troad, and let me hear from you when you
please. I believe G. Forresti is now at Yanina; but if not, whoever is
there will be too happy to assist you. Be particular about _firmauns;_
never allow yourself to be bullied, for you are better protected in
Turkey than any where; trust not the Greeks; and take some
knicknackeries for _presents--watches, pistols,_ etc., etc., to the Beys
and Pachas. If you find one Demetrius, at Athens or elsewhere, I can
recommend him as a good dragoman. I hope to join you, however; but you
will find swarms of English now in the Levant.
Believe me, etc.
[Footnote 1: Robert Liston, afterwards Sir Robert Liston (1742-1836),
succeeded Adair as Ambassador at Constantinople in 1811.]
* * * * *
274.--To John Murray.
Eywood, Presteign, January 8, 1813.
Dear Sir,--You have been imposed upon by a letter forged in my name to
obtain the picture left in your possession. This I know by the
confession of the culprit [1] and as she is a woman (and of rank), with
whom I have unfortunately been too much connected, you will for the
present say very little about it; but if you have the letter _retain_
it--write to me the particulars. You will also be more cautious in
future, and not allow anything of mine to pass from your hands without
my _Seal_ as well as Signature.
I have not been in town, nor have written to you since I left it. So I
presume the forgery was a skilful performance.--I shall endeavour to get
back the picture by fair means, if possible.
Yours ever,
BYRON.
P.S.--Keep the letter if you have it. I did not receive your parcel, and
it is now too late to send it on, as I shall be in town on the 17th. The
_delinquent_ is one of the first families in this kingdom; but, as
Dogberry says, this is "flat burglary." [2]
Favour me with an answer. I hear I am scolded in the 'Quarterly'; but
you and it are already forgiven. I suppose that made you bashful about
sending it.
[Footnote 1: The culprit was Lady Caroline Lamb, who imitated Byron's
handwriting with remarkable skill.]
[Footnote 2: 'Much Ado about Nothing', act iv. sc. 2.]
* * * * *
275.--To Francis Hodgson.
February 3, 1813.
My Dear Hodgson,--I will join you in any bond for the money you require,
be it that or a larger sum. With regard to security, as Newstead is in a
sort of abeyance between sale and purchase, and my Lancashire property
very unsettled, I do not know how far I can give more than personal
security, but what I can I will. At any rate you can try, and as the sum
is not very considerable, the chances are favourable. I hear nothing of
my own concerns, but expect a letter daily. Let me hear from you where
you are and will be this month. I am a great admirer of the 'R. A.'
['Rejected Addresses'], though I have had so great a share in the cause
of their publication, and I like the 'C. H.' ['Childe Harold'] imitation
one of the best. [1] Lady Oxford has heard me talk much of you as a
relative of the Cokes, etc., and desires me to say she would be happy to
have the pleasure of your acquaintance. You must come and see me at
K[insham]. I am sure you would like _all_ here if you knew them.
The "Agnus" is furious. You can have no idea of the horrible and absurd
things she has said and done [2] since (really from the best motives) I
withdrew my homage. "Great pleasure" is, certes, my object, but "_why
brief_, Mr. Wild?" [3] I cannot answer for the future, but the past is
pretty secure; and in it I can number the last two months as worthy of
the gods in 'Lucretius'. I cannot review in the "_Monthly;_" in fact I
can just now do nothing, at least with a pen; and I really think the
days of Authorship are over with me altogether. I hear and rejoice in
Eland's and Merivale's intentions [4].
Murray has grown great, and has got him new premises in the fashionable
part of the town [5].
We live here so shut out of the _monde_ that I have nothing of general
import to communicate, and fill this up with a "happy new year," and
drink to you and Drury.
Ever yours, dear H., B.
I have no intention of continuing "_Childe Harold._" There are a few
additions in the "body of the book" of description, which will merely
add to the number of pages in the next edition. I have taken Kinsham
Court. The business of last summer I broke off [6], and now the
amusement of the gentle fair is writing letters literally threatening my
life, and much in the style of "Miss Mathews" in "_Amelia_," or "Lucy"
in the "_Beggar's Opera_." Such is the reward of restoring a woman to
her family, who are treating her with the greatest kindness, and with
whom I am on good terms. I am still in _palatia Circes_, and, being no
Ulysses, cannot tell into what animal I may be converted; as you are
aware of the turn of both parties, your conjectures will be very
correct, I daresay, and, seriously, I am very much _attached_. She has
had her share of the denunciations of the brilliant Phryne, and regards
them as much as I do. I hope you will visit me at K. which will not be
ready before spring, and I am very sure you would like my neighbours if
you knew them. If you come down now to Kington [7], pray come and see me.
[Footnote 1:
"Byron often talks of the authors of the 'Rejected Addresses', and
always in terms of unqualified praise. He says that the imitations,
unlike all other imitations, are full of genius. 'Parodies,' he said,
'always give a bad impression of the original, but in the 'Rejected
Addresses' the reverse was the fact;' and he quoted the second and
third stanzas, in imitation of himself, as admirable, and just what he
could have wished to write on a similar subject"
(Lady Blessington's 'Conversations', p. 134).]
[Footnote 2:
"The Bessboroughs," writes Lady H. Leveson Gower to Lady G. Morpeth,
September 12, 1812 ('Letters of Harriet, Countess Granville', vol. i.
pp. 40, 41), "have been unpacked about a couple of hours. My aunt
looks stout and well, but poor Caroline most terribly the contrary.
She is worn to the bone, as pale as death and her eyes starting out of
her head. She seems indeed in a sad way, alternately in tearing
spirits and in tears. I hate her character, her feelings, and herself
when I am away from her, but she interests me when I am with her, and
to see her poor careworn face is dismal, in spite of reason and
speculation upon her extraordinary conduct. She appears to me in a
state very (little) short of insanity, and my aunt describes it as at
times having been decidedly so."]
[Footnote 3: The context and allusion seem to require another word than
"_brief_;" but the sentence is written as printed. In Fielding's 'Life
of Mr. Jonathan Wild' (Bk. III. chap. viii.) and in
"a dialogue matrimonial, which passed between Jonathan Wild, Esquire,
and Laetitia his wife" ('nee' Laetitia Snap), "Laetitia asks, 'But
pray, Mr. Wild, why b--ch? Why did you suffer such a word to escape
you?'"]
[Footnote 4: The republication of the 'Anthology']
[Footnote 5: Murray's removal from 32, Fleet Street, to 50, Albemaile
Street.]
[Footnote 6: With Lady Caroline Lamb.]
[Footnote 7: Near Lower Moor, the residence of Hodgson's relatives, the
Cokes.]
* * * * *
276.--To John Hanson.
3d Feb'y, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Will you forward the inclosed immediately to Corbet, whose
address I do not exactly remember? It is of consequence, relative to a
foolish woman [1] I never saw, who fancies I want to marry her.
Yours ever, B.
P.S.--I wish you would see Corbet and talk to him about it, for she
plagues my soul out with her damned letters.
[Footnote 1: The lady in question seems to have been Lady Falkland (see
'Letters', vol. 1, p. 216, 'note' 1 [Footnote 1 of Letter 117], and the
letter dated March 5, 1813 [Letter 281 in this volume.])]
* * * * *
277.--To John Murray.
February 20, 1813.
Dear Sir,--In "_Horace in London_" [1] I perceive some stanzas on Lord
Elgin in which (waving the kind compliment to myself [2]) I heartily
concur. I wish I had the pleasure of Mr. Smith's acquaintance, as I
could communicate the curious anecdote you read in Mr. T.'s letter. If
he would like it, he can have the _substance_ for his second Edition; if
not, I shall add it to _our_ next, though I think we already have enough
of Lord Elgin.
What I have read of this work seems admirably done. My praise, however,
is not much worth the Author's having; but you may thank him in my name
for _his_. The idea is new--we have excellent imitations of the Satires,
etc. by Pope; but I remember but one imitative Ode in his works, and
_none_ any where else. I can hardly suppose that _they_ have lost any
fame by the fate of the Farce [3]; but even should this be the case, the
present publication will again place them on their pinnacle.
Yours truly,
B.
[Footnote 1: 'Horace in London; consisting of Imitations of the First
Two Books of the Odes of Horace', by James and Horace Smith (1813), was
a collection of imitations, the best of which are by James Smith,
republished from Hill's 'Monthly Mirror', where they originally
appeared.]
[Footnote 2: In Book 1. ode xv. of 'Horace in London', entitled "The
Parthenon," Minerva thus speaks:
"All who behold my mutilated pile
Shall brand its ravager with classic rage,
And soon a titled bard from Britain's Isle,
Thy country's praise and suffrage shall engage,
And fire with Athens' wrongs an angry age!"
[Footnote 3: Horace Smith's unsuccessful comedy, 'First Impressions; or,
Trade in the West', was performed at Drury Lane. The prologue, spoken by
Powell, beseeches a judgment from the audience:
"Such as mild Justice might herself dispense,
To _Inexperience and a First Offence_."]
* * * * *
278.--To Robert Rushton.
4, Bennet Street, St. James's, Feb. 24th, 1813.
I feel rather surprised to have heard nothing from you or your father in
answer to Fletcher's last letter. I wish to know whether you intend
taking a share in a farm with your brother, or prefer to wait for some
other situation in Lancashire;--the first will be the best, because, at
your time of life, it is highly improper to remain idle. If this
_marriage_ which is spoken of for you is at all advantageous, I can have
no objection; but I should suppose, after being in my service from your
infancy, you will at least let me know the name of your _intended_, and
her expectations. If at all respectable, nothing can be better for your
settlement in life, and a proper provision will be made for you; at all
events let me hear something on the subject, for, as I have some
intention of leaving England in the Summer, I wish to make my
arrangements with regard to yourself before that period. As you and Mr.
Murray have not received any money for some time, if you will draw on
_me_ for _fifty_ pounds (payable at Messrs. Hoare's, Bankers, Fleet
Street), and tell Mr. J[oseph] Murray to draw for the _same sum_ on his
_own_ account, both will be paid by me.
Etc., etc.,
B.
* * * * *
279.--To John Hanson.
F'y. 27th, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I have called several times, and you may suppose am very
anxious to hear something from or of Mr. Claughton.
It is my determination, on account of a malady to which I am subject,
and for other weighty reasons, to go abroad again almost immediately. To
this you will object; but, as my intention cannot be altered, I have
only to request that you will assist me as far as in your power to make
the necessary arrangements.
I have every confidence in you, and will leave the fullest powers to act
in my absence. If this man still hesitates, I must sell my part of
Rochdale for what it will bring, even at a loss, and fight him out about
Newstead; without this, I have no funds to go on with, and I do not wish
to incur further debts if possible.
Pray favour me with a short reply to this, and say when I can see you.
Excuse me to Mrs. H. for my non-appearance last night; I was detained in
the H. of L. till too late to dress for her party. Compliments to all.
Ever yours,
BN.
* * * * *
280.--To John Hanson.
March 1st, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I am sorry that I could not call today but will tomorrow.
Your objections I anticipated and can only repeat that I cannot act
otherwise; so pray hasten some arrangement--for with, or without, I must
go.
A person told me yesterday there was one who would give within 10000 of
C.'s price and take the title as it was. C. is a fool or is shuffling.
Think of what I said about _Rochdale_, for I will sell it for what I can
get, and will not stay three months longer in this country. I again
repeat I will leave all with full powers to you. I commend your
objection which is a proof of an honourable mind--which however I did
not need to convince me of your character. If you have any news send a
few lines.
Ever yours,
BN.
* * * * *
281.--To----Corbet.
Mh. 5th, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Lady F[alkland?] has returned by Mr. Hanson the only two
letters I ever wrote her, both some time ago, and neither containing the
least allusion which could make any person suppose that I had any
intention further than regards the children of her husband. My servant
returned the packet and letter of yesterday at the moment of receiving
them; by her letter to Mr. H. it should seem they have not been
redelivered. I am sorry for this, but it is not my fault, and they ought
never to have been sent. After her Ladyship's mistakes, so often
repeated, you will not blame me for declining all further interference
in her affairs, and I rely much upon your word in contradicting her
foolish assertions, and most absurd imaginations. She now says that "I
need not leave the country on her account." How the devil she knew that
I was about to leave it I cannot guess; but, however, for the first time
she has _dreamed_ right. But _her_ being the cause is still more
ludicrous than the rest. First, she would have it that I returned here
for love of a woman I _never saw_, and now that I am going, for the same
whom I _have never seen_, and certainly never wished, nor wish, to see!
The maddest _consistency_ I ever heard of. I trust that she has regained
her senses, as she tells Mr. H. she will not scribble any more, which
will also save _you_ from the troublesome correspondence of
Your obliged and obedient servant,
BYRON.
* * * * *
282.--To John Hanson.
March 6th, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I must be ready in April at whatever risk,--at whatever loss.
You will therefore advertize Rochdale; if you decline this, I will sell
it for what it will bring, even though but a few thousand pounds.
With regard to Claughton, I shall only say that, if he knew the
ruin,--the misery, he occasions by his delay, he would be sorry for his
conduct, and I only hope that he and I may not meet, or I shall say
something he will not like to hear. I have called often. I shall call
today at three or between three and four; again and again, I can only
beg of you to forward my plans, for here no power on earth shall make me
remain six weeks longer.
Ever yours,
B.
* * * * *
283.--To Charles Hanson.
Mh. 24th, 1813.
My Dear Charles,--This is very evasive and dissatisfactory. What is to
be done I cannot tell, but your father had better see his letter and
this of mine. A long litigation neither suits my inclination nor
circumstances; it were better to take back the estate, and raise it to
what it will bear, which must be at least double, to dismantle the house
and sell the materials, and sell Rochdale. Something I must determine on
and that quickly. I want to go abroad immediately; it is utterly
impossible for me to remain here; every thing I have done to extricate
myself has been useless. Your father said "_sell_;" I have sold, and see
what has become of it! If I go to Law with this fellow, after five years
litigation at the present depreciation of money, the _price_ will not be
worth the _property_; besides how much of it will be spent in the
contest! and how am I to live in the interim? Every day land rises and
money falls. I shall tell Mr. Cn. he is a _scoundrel_, and have done
with him, and I only hope he will have spirit enough to resent the
appellation, and defend his own rascally conduct. In the interim of his
delay in his journey, I shall leave town; on Sunday I shall set out for
Herefordshire, from whence, when wanted, I will return.
Pray tell your father to get the money on Rochdale, or I must sell it
directly. I must be ready by the last week in _May_, and am consequently
pressed for time.
I go first to Cagliari in Sardinia, and on to the Levant.
Believe me, dear Charles,
Yours truly,
B.
* * * * *
284.--To Samuel Rogers. [1]
March 25, 1813.
I enclose you a draft for the usurious interest due to Lord
B[oringdon]'s _protege_;--I also could wish you would state thus much
for me to his Lordship. Though the transaction speaks plainly in itself
for the borrower's folly and the lender's usury, it never was my
intention to _quash_ the demand, as I _legally_ might, nor to withhold
payment of principal, or, perhaps, even _unlawful_ interest. You know
what my situation has been, and what it is. I have parted with an estate
(which has been in my family for nearly three hundred years, and was
never disgraced by being in possession of a _lawyer_, a _churchman_, or
a _woman_, during that period,) to liquidate this and similar demands;
and the payment of the purchase is still withheld, and may be, perhaps,
for years. If, therefore, I am under the necessity of making those
persons _wait_ for their money, (which, considering the terms, they can
afford to suffer,) it is my misfortune.
When I arrived at majority in 1809,1 offered my own security on _legal_
interest, and it was refused. _Now_, I will not accede to this. This man
I may have seen, but I have no recollection of the names of any parties
but the _agents_ and the securities. The moment I can, it is assuredly
my intention to pay my debts. This person's case may be a hard one; but,
under all circumstances, what is mine? I could not foresee that the
purchaser of my estate was to demur in paying for it.
I am glad it happens to be in my power so far to accommodate my
Israelite, and only wish I could do as much for the rest of the Twelve
Tribes.
Ever yours, dear R.,
BN.
[Footnote 1: The following was Rogers's reply:--
"Friday Morning.
"My Dearest Byron,--I have just received your note, but I _will not_
execute your Commission; and, moreover, I will tell Lord Boringdon
that I refused to do it. I know your situation; and I should never
sleep again, if by any interference of mine, for by so harsh a word I
must call it, you should be led by your generosity, your pride, or any
other noble motive, to do more than you are called upon to do.
"I mentioned the thing to Lord Holland last night, and he entirely
agreed with me, that you are not called upon to do it. The Principal
and the legal interest are all that these extortioners are entitled
to; and, you must forgive me, but I will not do as you require. I
shall keep the draft till I see you.
"Yours ever and ever,
"SAML. ROGERS."]
* * * * *
285.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
4, Bennet Street, St. James's, March 26th, 1813.
My Dearest Augusta,--I did not answer your letter, because I could not
answer as I wished, but expected that every week would bring me some
tidings that might enable me to reply better than by apologies. But
Claughton has not, will not, and, I think, cannot pay his money, and
though, luckily, it was stipulated that he should never have possession
till the whole was paid, the estate is still on my hands, and your
brother consequently not less embarrassed than ever. This is the truth,
and is all the excuse I can offer for inability, but not unwillingness,
to serve you.
I am going abroad again in June, but should wish to see you before my
departure. You have perhaps heard that I have been fooling away my time
with different "_regnantes_;" but what better can be expected from me? I
have but one _relative_, and her I never see. I have no connections to
domesticate with, and for marriage I have neither the talent nor the
inclination. I cannot fortune-hunt, nor afford to marry without a
fortune. My parliamentary schemes are not much to my taste--I spoke
twice last Session, [1] and was told it was well enough; but I hate the
thing altogether, and have no intention to "strut another hour" on that
stage. I am thus wasting the best part of life, daily repenting and
never amending.
On Sunday, I set off for a fortnight for Eywood, near Presteign, in
Herefordshire--with the _Oxfords_. I see you put on a _demure_ look at
the name, which is very becoming and matronly in you; but you won't be
sorry to hear that I am quite out of a more serious scrape with another
singular personage which threatened me last year, and trouble enough I
had to steer clear of it I assure you. I hope all my nieces are well,
and increasing in growth and number; but I wish you were not always
buried in that bleak common near Newmarket.
I am very well in health, but not happy, nor even comfortable; but I
will not bore you with complaints. I am a fool, and deserve all the ills
I have met, or may meet with, but nevertheless very _sensibly_, dearest
Augusta,
Your most affectionate brother, BYRON.
[Footnote 1: What is generally supposed to have been Byron's second
speech (see Appendix II. (2)) was made, April 21, 1813, on Lord
Donoughmore's motion for a Committee on Roman Catholic claims.
The following impressions of his short parliamentary career are recorded
by Byron himself:
"I have never heard any one who fulfilled my ideal of an orator.
Grattan would have been near it, but for his harlequin delivery. Pitt
I never heard. Fox but once, and then he struck me as a debater, which
to me seems as different from an orator as an improvisatore, or a
versifier, from a poet. Grey is great, but it is not oratory. Canning
is sometimes very like one. Windham I did not admire, though all the
world did; it seemed sad sophistry. Whitbread was the Demosthenes of
bad taste and vulgar vehemence, but strong, and English. Holland is
impressive from sense and sincerity. Lord Lansdowne good, but still a
debater only. Grenville I like vastly, if he would prune his speeches
down to an hour's delivery. Burdett is sweet and silvery as Belial
himself, and I think the greatest favourite in Pandemonium; at least I
always heard the country gentlemen and the ministerial devilry praise
his speeches _up_ stairs, and run down from Bellamy's when he was upon
his legs. I heard Bob Milnes make his _second_ speech; it made no
impression. I like Ward--studied, but keen, and sometimes eloquent.
Peel, my school and form fellow (we sat within two of each other),
strange to say, I have never heard, though I often wished to do so;
but, from what I remember of him at Harrow, he _is_, or _should_ be,
among the best of them. Now I do _not_ admire Mr. Wilberforce's
speaking; it is nothing but a flow of words--'words, words, alone.'
"I doubt greatly if the English _have_ any eloquence, properly so
called; and am inclined to think that the Irish _had_ a great deal,
and that the French _will_ have, and have had in Mirabeau. Lord
Chatham and Burke are the nearest approaches to orators in England. I
don't know what Erskine may have been at the _bar_, but in the House,
I wish him at the bar once more. Lauderdale is shrill, and Scotch, and
acute. Of Brougham I shall say nothing, as I have a personal feeling
of dislike to the man.
"But amongst all these, good, bad, and indifferent, I never heard the
speech which was not too long for the auditors, and not very
intelligible, except here and there. The whole thing is a grand
deception, and as tedious and tiresome as maybe to those who must be
often present. I heard Sheridan only once, and that briefly, but I
liked his voice, his manner, and his wit: and he is the only one of
them I ever wished to hear at greater length.
"The impression of Parliament upon me was, that its members are not
formidable as _speakers_, but very much so as an _audience_; because
in so numerous a body there may be little eloquence, (after all, there
were but _two_ thorough orators in all antiquity, and I suspect still
_fewer_ in modern times,) but there must be a leaven of thought and
good sense sufficient to make them _know_ what is right, though they
can't express it nobly.
"Horne Tooke and Roscoe both are said to have declared that they left
Parliament with a higher opinion of its aggregate integrity and
abilities than that with which they entered it. The general amount of
both in most Parliaments is probably about the same, as also the
number of _speakers_ and their talent. I except _orators_, of course,
because they are things of ages, and not of septennial or triennial
reunions. Neither House ever struck me with more awe or respect than
the same number of Turks in a divan, or of Methodists in a barn, would
have done. Whatever diffidence or nervousness I felt (and I felt both,
in a great degree) arose from the number rather than the quality of
the assemblage, and the thought rather of the _public without_ than
the persons within,--knowing (as all know) that Cicero himself, and
probably the Messiah, could never have altered the vote of a single
lord of the bedchamber, or bishop. I thought _our_ House dull, but the
other animating enough upon great days.
"I have heard that when Grattan made his first speech in the English
Commons, it was for some minutes doubtful whether to laugh at or cheer
him. The _debut_ of his predecessor, Flood, had been a complete
failure, under nearly similar circumstances. But when the ministerial
part of our senators had watched Pitt (their thermometer) for the cue,
and saw him nod repeatedly his stately nod of approbation, they took
the hint from their huntsman, and broke out into the most rapturous
cheers. Grattan's speech, indeed, deserved them; it was a
_chef-d'oeuvre_. I did not hear _that_ speech of his (being then at
Harrow), but heard most of his others on the same question--also that
on the war of 1815. I differed from his opinions on the latter
question, but coincided in the general admiration of his eloquence.
"When I met old Courtenay, the orator, at Rogers's the poet's, in
1811-12, I was much taken with the portly remains of his fine figure,
and the still acute quickness of his conversation. It was _he_ who
silenced Flood in the English House by a crushing reply to a hasty
_debut_ of the rival of Grattan in Ireland. I asked Courtenay (for I
like to trace motives) if he had not some personal provocation; for
the acrimony of his answer seemed to me, as I read it, to involve it.
Courtenay said 'he had; that, when in Ireland (being an Irishman), at
the bar of the Irish House of Commons, Flood had made a personal and
unfair attack upon _himself_, who, not being a member of that House,
could not defend himself, and that some years afterwards, the
opportunity of retort offering in the English Parliament, he could not
resist it.' He certainly repaid Flood with interest, for Flood never
made any figure, and only a speech or two afterwards, in the English
House of Commons. I must except, however, his speech on Reform in
1790, which Fox called 'the best he ever heard upon that subject.'"]
* * * * *
286.--To John Murray.
March 29th, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Westall has, I believe, agreed to illustrate your book [1],
and I fancy one of the engravings will be from the pretty little girl
[2] you saw the other day, though without her name, and merely as a
model for some sketch connected with the subject. I would also have the
portrait (which you saw to-day) of the friend who is mentioned in the
text at the close of Canto 1st, and in the notes,--which are subjects
sufficient to authorise that addition.
Believe me, yours truly, B'N.
[Footnote 1: An edition of the first two cantos of 'Childe Harold', to
be illustrated by Richard Westall (1765-1836), who painted Byron's
portrait in 1813-14.]
[Footnote 2: Lady Charlotte Harley, daughter of Lord Oxford, to whom,
under the name of Ianthe, the introductory lines to 'Childe Harold' were
afterwards addressed. Lady Charlotte married, in 1820, Brigadier-General
Bacon.]
* * * * *
287.--To John Hanson.
Presteigne, April 15th, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I wrote to you requesting an answer last week, and again
apprising you of my determination of leaving England early in May, and
proceeding no further with Claughton.
Now, having arrived, I shall write to that person immediately to give up
the whole business. I am sick of the delays attending it, and can wait
no longer, and I have had too much of _law_ already at Rochdale to place
Newstead in the same predicament.
I shall only be able to see you for a few days in town, as I shall sail
before the 20th of May.
Believe me, yours ever, B.
P.S.--My best compliments to Mrs. H. and the family.
* * * * *
288.--To John Hanson.
Presteigne, April 17th, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I shall follow your advice and say nothing to our shuffling
purchaser, but leave him to you, and the fullest powers of _Attorney_,
which I hope you will have ready on my arrival in town early next week.
I wish, if possible, the arrangement with Hoare to be made immediately,
as I must set off forthwith. I mean to remain _incog_. in London for the
short time previous to my embarkation.
I have not written to Claughton, nor shall, of course, after your
counsel on the subject. I wish you would turn in your mind the
expediency of selling Rochdale. I shall never make any thing of it, as
it is.
I beg you will provide (as before my last voyage) the fullest powers to
act in my absence, and bring my cursed concerns into some kind of order.
You must at least allow that I have acted according to your advice about
Newstead, and I shall take no step without your being previously
consulted.
I hope I shall find you and Mrs. H., etc., well in London, and that you
have heard something from this dilatory gentleman.
Believe me, ever yours truly,
B.
* * * * *
289.--To John Murray.
April 21, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I shall be in town by Sunday next, and will call and have
some conversation on the subject of Westall's proposed designs. I am to
sit to him for a picture at the request of a friend of mine [1]; and as
Sanders's is not a good one, you will probably prefer the other. I wish
you to have Sanders's taken down and sent to my lodgings
immediately--before my arrival. I hear that a certain malicious
publication on Waltzing [2] is attributed to me. This report, I suppose,
you will take care to contradict, as the Author, I am sure, will not
like that I should wear his cap and bells. Mr. Hobhouse's quarto will be
out immediately; pray send to the author for an early copy which I wish
to take abroad with me.
Dear Sir, I am, yours very truly, B.
P.S.--I see the 'Examiner' [3] threatens some observations upon you next
week. What can you have done to share the wrath which has heretofore
been principally expended upon the Prince? I presume all your Scribleri
will be drawn up in battle array in defence of the modern Tonson--Mr.
Bucke [4], for instance. Send in my account to Bennet Street, as I wish
to settle it before sailing.
[Footnote 1: This picture, exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1815, is
now in the possession of the Baroness Burdett-Coutts.]
[Footnote 2: Byron's 'Waltz' was published anonymously in the spring of
1813, not, apparently, by Murray, but by Sherwood, Neely, and Jones,
Paternoster Row.]
[Footnote 3: In the 'Examiner' for April, 1813, occurs the paragraph: "A
word or two on Mr. Murray's (the 'splendid bookseller') judgment in the
Fine Arts--next week, 'if room'."]
[Footnote 4: Charles Bucke (1781-1846), a voluminous writer of verse,
plays, and miscellaneous subjects, published, in 1813, his 'Philosophy
of Nature; or, the Influence of Scenery on the Mind and Heart'. He
supported himself by his pen, and that indifferently. Byron seems to
suggest that he was a dependent of Murray's. In 1817 he sent to the
Committee of Management at Drury Lane his tragedy, 'The Italians; or,
the Fatal Accusation', and it was accepted. In February, 1819, he
withdrew the play, in consequence of a quarrel with Edmund Kean, and
published it with extracts from the correspondence and a Preface, which
sent it through numerous editions. The play itself was, after being
withdrawn, played at Drury Lane, April 3, 1819. Bucke and his Preface
were answered in 'The Assailant Assailed', and in 'A Defence of Edmund
Kean, Esq'. (both in 1819), and the opinion of the town condemned both
him and his tragedy.]
* * * * *
CHAPTER VII.
MAY, 1813-DECEMBER, 1813.
THE 'GIAOUR' AND 'BRIDE OF ABYDOS'.
* * * * *
290.--To John Murray.
May 13, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I send a corrected, and, I hope, amended copy of the lines
for the "fragment" already sent this evening. [1] Let the enclosed be
the copy that is sent to the Devil (the printers) and burn the other.
Yours, etc., B'N.
[Footnote 1: 'The Giaour', which was now in the press, was expanded,
either in the course of printing, or in the successive editions, from
400 lines to 1400. It was published in May, 1813.]
* * * * *
291.--To Thomas Moore.
May 19, 1813.
Oh you, who in all names can tickle the town,
Anacreon, Tom Little, Tom Moore, or Tom Brown, [1]--
For hang me if I know of which you may most brag,
Your Quarto two-pounds, or your Twopenny Post Bag;
* * * * *
But now to my letter--to _yours_ 'tis an answer--
To-morrow be with me, as soon as you can, sir,
All ready and dress'd for proceeding to spunge on
(According to compact) the wit in the dungeon [2]--
Pray Phoebus at length our political malice
May not get us lodgings within the same palace!
I suppose that to-night you're engaged with some codgers,
And for Sotheby's [3] Blues have deserted Sam Rogers;
And I, though with cold I have nearly my death got,
Must put on my breeches, and wait on the Heathcote.
But to-morrow at four, we will both play the _Scurra_,
And you'll be Catullus, the Regent, Mamurra. [4]
Dear M.,--having got thus far, I am interrupted by----. 10 o'clock.
Half-past 11.----is gone. I must dress for Lady Heathcote's.--Addio.
[Footnote 1: Moore's 'Intercepted Letters, or the Twopenny Post-bag. By
Thomas Brown, the Younger', was published in 1813.]
[Footnote 2: The "wit in the dungeon" was James Henry Leigh Hunt
(1784-1859), who was educated at Christ's Hospital, and began his
literary life with "a collection of poems, written between the ages of
twelve and sixteen," and published in 1801 as 'Juvenilia'. In 1808 he
and his brother John started a weekly newspaper called the 'Examiner',
which advocated liberal principles with remarkable independence. On
February 24, 1811, Hunt published an article in defence of Peter
Finnerty, convicted for a libel on Castlereagh, and exhorting public
writers to be bold in the cause of individual liberty. The same number
contained an article on the savagery of military floggings, for which he
was prosecuted, defended by Brougham, and acquitted. His acquittal drew
from Shelley a letter of congratulation, addressed to Hunt as "one of
the most fearless enlighteners of the public mind" (Dowden's 'Life of
Shelley', vol. i. p. 113).
In March, 1812, the 'Morning Post' printed a poem, speaking of the
Prince Regent as the "Maecenas of the Age," the "Exciter of Desire," the
"Glory of the People," an "Adonis of Loveliness," etc. The 'Examiner'
for March 12, 1812, thus translated this adulation into "the language of
truth:"
"What person, unacquainted with the true state of the case, would
imagine, in reading these astounding eulogies, that this 'Glory of the
People' was the subject of millions of shrugs and reproaches!... that
this 'Exciter of Desire' (bravo! Messieurs of the 'Post'!), this
'Adonis in Loveliness,' was a corpulent man of fifty!--in short, this
'delightful, blissful, wise, pleasureable, honourable, virtuous,
true', and 'immortal' prince was a violator of his word, a libertine
over head and ears in disgrace, a despiser of domestic ties, the
companion of gamblers and demireps, a man who has just closed half a
century without one single claim on the gratitude of his country or
the respect of posterity."
Crabb Robinson, who met Leigh Hunt, four days later, at Charles Lamb's,
says ('Diary', vol. i. p. 376),
"Leigh Hunt is an enthusiast, very well intentioned, and, I believe,
prepared for the worst. He said, pleasantly enough, 'No one can accuse
me of not writing a libel. Everything is a libel, as the law is now
declared, and our security lies only in their shame.'"
For this libel John and Leigh Hunt were convicted in the Court of King's
Bench on December 9, 1812. In the following February they were sentenced
to two years' imprisonment and a fine of L500 a-piece. John was
imprisoned in Coldbath-fields, Leigh in the Surrey County Gaol. They
were released on February 2 or 3, 1815.
Shelley, on reading the sentence, proposed a subscription for
"the brave and enlightened man... to whom the public owes a debt as
the champion of their liberties and virtues"
(Dowden, 'Life of Shelley', vol. i. p. 325). Keats wrote a sonnet to
Hunt on the day he left his prison, beginning:
"What though for showing truth to flatter'd state,
Kind Hunt was shut in prison."
A political alliance was thus cemented, which, for the time, was
disastrous to the literary prospects of Shelley and Keats. To Hunt
Shelley dedicated the 'Cenci', and Keats his first volume of 'Poems'
(1817). He is the "gentlest of the wise" in Shelley's 'Adonais'; and, in
a suppressed stanza of the same poem, the poet speaks of Hunt's "sweet
and earnest looks," "soft smiles," and "dark and night-like eyes." The
words inscribed on Shelley's tomb--"_Cor Cordium_"--were Hunt's choice.
In his various papers Hunt zealously championed his friends. In the
'Examiner' for September to October, 1819, he defended Shelley's
personal character; in the same paper for June to July, 1817, he praised
Keats's first volume of 'Poems'; he reviewed "Lamia" in the 'Indicator'
for August 2-9, 1820, and "La Belle Dame sans Merci" in that for May 10,
1820. In his 'Foliage' (1818) are three sonnets addressed to Keats.
Shelley believed in Hunt to the end. It was mainly through him that Hunt
came to Pisa in June, 1822, to join with Byron in 'The Liberal'. But he
doubted whether the alliance between the "wren and the eagle" could
continue ('Life of Shelley', vol. ii. p. 519). Keats, on the other hand,
lost his faith in Hunt. In a letter to Haydon (May, 1817), speaking of
Hunt, he says,
"There is no greater Sin after the seven deadly than to flatter
oneself into an idea of being a great Poet."
Again (March, 1818) he writes,
"It is a great Pity that People should, by associating themselves with
the finest things, spoil them. Hunt has damned Hampstead, and masks,
and sonnets, and Italian tales."
He writes still more severely (December, 1818-January, 1819),
"If I were to follow my own inclinations, I should never meet any one
of that set again, not even Hunt, who is certainly a pleasant fellow
in the main when you are with him; but in reality he is vain,
egotistical, and disgusting in matters of taste and morals. Hunt does
one harm by making fine things petty, and beautiful things hateful.
Through him I am indifferent to Mozart. I care not for white
Busts--and many a glorious thing when associated with him becomes a
nothing."
Haydon considered that Hunt was the "great unhinger" of Keats's best
dispositions ('Works of Keats', ed. H.B. Forman, vol. iv. p. 359); and
Severn attributes Keats's temporary "mawkishness" to Hunt's society
('ibid'., p. 376).
Nathaniel Hawthorne ('Our Old Home', p. 229, ed. 1884) says of Hunt, and
means it as high praise, that
"there was not an English trait in him from head to foot--morally,
intellectually, or physically. Beef, ale or stout, brandy or
port-wine, entered not at all into his composition."
He was, in fact, a man of weak fibre, who allowed himself to sponge upon
his friends, such as Talfourd, Haydon, and Shelley. Though Dickens
denied ('All the Year Round', Dec. 24, 1859) that "Harold Skimpole" was
intended for Hunt, the picture was recognized as a portrait. On the
other hand, Hunt was a man of kindly and genial disposition.
"He loves everything," says Crabb Robinson ('Diary', vol. ii. p. 192),
"he catches the sunny side of everything, and, excepting that he has a
few polemical antipathies, finds everything beautiful."
In his essays, the best of which appeared in the 'Indicator' (1819-21),
he communicates some of his own sense of enjoyment to those of his
readers who are content to take him as he is. His circle is limited; but
in it his observation is minute and suggestive. The Vale of Health is to
him, in a degree proportioned to their respective powers, what the
Temple was to Lamb. His style is neat, pretty, and would be affected if
it were not the man himself. As a literary journalist, a dramatic
critic, and an essayist, he has a place in literature. His poetry is
less successful; his affectations, innate vulgarity, and habit of pawing
his subjects repel even those who are attracted by its sweetness. Yet
his 'Story of Rimini' (1816), which he dedicated to Byron, was admired
in its day. Byron, though he condemned its affected style, thought the
poem a "devilish good one." Moore held the same opinion; and Jeffrey,
writing to him May 28, 1816 ('Memoirs, etc., of Thomas Moon,' vol. ii.
p. 100), says,
"I certainly shall not be ill-natured to 'Rimini'. It is very sweet
and very lively in many places, and is altogether piquant, as being by
far the best imitation of Chaucer and some of his Italian
contemporaries that modern times have produced."
No two men could be more unlike than Byron and Hunt, or have less in
common. Yet, with a singular capacity for self-delusion, Hunt told his
wife that the texture of Byron's mind resembled his to a thread
('Correspondence of L. Hunt', vol. i. p. 88). The friendship began in
political sympathy; but two years later (see Byron's letter to Moore,
June 1, 1818) it had, on one side at least, cooled. In June, 1822, Hunt
came to Pisa to launch The Liberal, with the aid of Shelley and Byron.
'The Liberal: Verse and Prose from the South', started in 1822, lived
through four numbers, and died in July, 1823. During that time Byron
expressed to Lady Blessington ('Conversations', p. 77)
"a very good opinion of the talents and principle of Mr. Hunt, though,
as he said, 'our tastes are so opposite that we are totally unsuited
to each other ... in short, we are more formed to be friends at a
distance, than near.'"
For the best part of two years Hunt was Byron's guest: he repaid his
hospitality by publishing his 'Lord Byron and Some of his
Contemporaries' (1828). Though Lady Blessington said the book "gave, in
the main, a fair account" of Byron (Crabb Robinson's 'Diary', vol. iii.
p. 13), its publication was a breach of honour. As such it was justly
attacked by Moore in "The 'Living Dog' and the 'Dead Lion'":
"Next week will be published (as 'Lives' are the rage)
The whole Reminiscences, wondrous and strange,
Of a small puppy-dog, that lived once in the cage
Of the late noble Lion at Exeter 'Change.
"Though the dog is a dog of the kind they call 'sad,'
'Tis a puppy that much to good breeding pretends;
And few dogs have such opportunities had
Of knowing how Lions behave--among friends.
"How that animal eats, how he snores, how he drinks,
Is all noted down by this Boswell so small;
And 'tis plain, from each sentence, the puppy-dog thinks
That the Lion was no such great things after all.
"Though he roared pretty well--this the puppy allows--
It was all, he says, borrowed--all second-hand roar;
And he vastly prefers his own little bow-wows
To the loftiest war-note the Lion could pour.
"'Tis, indeed, as good fun as a 'Cynic' could ask,
To see how this cockney-bred setter of rabbits
Takes gravely the Lord of the Forest to task,
And judges of Lions by puppy-dog habits.
"Nay, fed as he was (and this makes it a dark case)
With sops every day from the Lion's own pan,
He lifts up his leg at the noble beast's carcass,
And--does all a dog, so diminutive, can.
"However, the book's a good book, being rich in
Examples and warnings to lions high-bred,
How they suffer small mongrelly curs in their kitchen,
Who'll feed on them living, and foul them when dead.
"Exeter 'Change'.
T. PIDCOCK."
For the reply of Hunt or one of his friends, "The Giant and the Dwarf,"
see Appendix VI.]
[Footnote 3: William Sotheby (1757-1833), once a cavalry officer,
afterwards a man of letters and of fortune, published his 'Oberon' in
1798, and his 'Georgics' in 1800 (see 'English Bards, etc.', line 818,
and 'note'). The following passage from Byron's 'Detached Thoughts'
(1821) refers to him:
"Sotheby is a good man; rhymes well (if not wisely), but is a bore. He
seizes you by the button. One night of a rout, at Mrs. Hope's, he had
fastened upon me (something about Agamemnon or Orestes--or some of his
plays), notwithstanding my symptoms of manifest distress, (for I was
in love and had just nicked a minute when neither mothers, nor
husbands, nor rivals, nor gossips, were near my then idol, who was
beautiful as the Statues of the Gallery where we stood at the time).
Sotheby, I say, had seized upon me by the button, and the
heart-strings, and spared neither. W. Spencer, who likes fun, and
don't dislike mischief, saw my case, and, coming up to us both, took
me by the hand and pathetically bade me farewell, 'for,' said he, 'I
see it is all over with you.' Sotheby then went away. 'Sic me servavit
Apollo.'"]
[Footnote 4: See Catullus, xxix. 3:
"Quis hoc potest videre, quis potest pati,
Nisi impudicus et vorax, et aleo,
Mamurram habere, quod Comata Gallia
Habebat uncti et ultima Britannia?"
See also xli. 4, xliii. 5 (compare Horace, 'Sat'. i. 5. 37), and lvii.
2.]
* * * * *
292.--To John Murray.
May 22nd, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I return the "_Curiosities of Literature_." [1] Pray is it
fair to ask if the "_Twopenny Postbag_" is to be reviewed in this No.?
because, if not, I should be glad to undertake it, and leave it to
Chance and the Editor for a reception into your pages.
Yours truly,
B.
P.S.--You have not sent me Eustace's 'Travels'. [2]
[Footnote 1: The first volume of Isaac Disraeli's 'Curiosities of
Literature' was published in 1791. The remaining volumes were published
at intervals: vol. ii., 1793; vol. iii., 1817; vols. iv. and v., in
1823; vol. vi., 1834.]
[Footnote 2: John Chetwode Eustace ('circ'. 1762-1815) published his
'Tour through Italy' in 1813.]
* * * * *
293.--To John Murray.
May 23rd, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I question whether ever author before received such a
compliment from his _master_. I am glad you think the thing is tolerably
_vamped_ and will be _vendible_.
Pray look over the proof again. I am but a careless reviser, and let me
have 12 struck off, and one or two for yourself to serve as MS. for the
thing when published in the body of the volume. If Lady Caroline Lamb
sends for it, do _not_ let her have it, till the copies are all ready,
and then you can send her one.
Yours truly,
[Greek: Mpairon].
P.S.--H.'s book is out at last; I have my copy, which I have lent
already.
* * * * *
294.--To John Murray.
June 2, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I presented a petition to the house yesterday, [1] which gave
rise to some debate, and I wish you to favour me for a few minutes with
the 'Times' and 'Herald' to look on their hostile report.
You will find, if you like to look at my 'prose', my words nearly
'verbatim' in the 'M. Chronicle'.
B'N.
[Footnote 1: The petition was from Major Cartwright, and was presented
June 1, 1813. (For Byron's speech, see Appendix II. (3).) Returning from
the House, he called on Moore, and, while the latter was dressing for
dinner, walked up and down the next room,
"spouting in a sort of mock heroic voice, detached sentences of the
speech he had just been delivering. 'I told them,' he said, 'that it
was a most flagrant violation of the Constitution--that, if such
things were permitted, there was an end of English freedom, and
that--'
"'But what was this dreadful grievance?' asked Moore.
"'The grievance?' he repeated, pausing as if to consider, 'oh,
_that_ I forget.'"]
* * * * *
295.--To Thomas Moore.
My Dear Moore,--"When Rogers" [1] must not see the inclosed, which I
send for your perusal. I am ready to fix any day you like for our visit.
Was not Sheridan good upon the whole? The "Poulterer" was the first and
best. [2]
Ever yours, etc.
1.
When Thurlow this damn'd nonsense sent,
(I hope I am not violent),
Nor men nor gods knew what he meant.
2.
And since not ev'n our Rogers' praise
To common sense his thoughts could raise--
Why _would_ they let him print his lays?
3.
* * * * *
4.
* * * * *
5.
To me, divine Apollo, grant--O!
Hermilda's first and second canto,
I'm fitting up a new portmanteau;
6.
And thus to furnish decent lining,
My own and others' bays I'm twining--
So, gentle Thurlow, throw me thine in.
* * * * *
296.--To John Hanson.
June 3d, 1813.
Dear Sir,--When you receive this I shall have left town for a week, and,
as it is perfectly right we should understand each other, I think you
will not be surprised at my persisting in my intention of going abroad.
If the Suit can be carried on in my absence,--_well_; if not, it must be
given up. One word, one letter, to Cn. would put an end to it; but this
I shall not do, at all events without acquainting you before hand; nor
at all, provided I am able to go abroad again. But at all hazards, at
all losses, on this last point I am as determined as I have been for the
last six months, and you have always told me that you would endeavour to
assist me in that intention. Every thing is ordered and ready now. Do
not trifle with me, for I am in very solid serious earnest, and if utter
ruin _were_, or _is_ before me, on the one hand--and wealth at home on
the other,--I have made my choice, and go I will.
If you wish to write, address a line before Saturday to Salthill Post
Office; Maidenhead, I believe, but am not sure, is the Post town; but I
shall not be in town till Wednesday next.
Believe me, yours ever,
BN.
P.S.--Let all the books go to Mr. Murray's immediately, and let the
plate, linen, etc., which I find _excepted_ by the _contract_, be sold,
particularly a large silver vase--with the _contents_ not removed as
they are curious, and a silver cup (not the skull) be sold also--both
are of value.
The Pictures also, and every moveable that is mine, and can be converted
into cash; all I want is a few thousand pounds, and then adieu. You
shan't be troubled with me these ten years, if ever.
* * * * *
297.--To Francis Hodgson.
June 6, 1813.
MY DEAR HODGSON,--I write to you a few lines on business. Murray has
thought proper at his own risk, and peril, and profit (if there be any)
to publish 'The Giaour'; and it may possibly come under your ordeal in
the 'Monthly' [1] I merely wish to state that in the published copies
there are additions to the amount of ten pages, _text_ and _margin_
(_chiefly_ the last), which render it a little less unfinished (but more
unintelligible) than before. If, therefore, you review it, let it be
from the published copies and not from the first sketch. I shall not
sail for this month, and shall be in town again next week, when I shall
be happy to hear from you but more glad to see you. You know I have no
time or turn for correspondence(!). But you also know, I hope, that I am
not the less
Yours ever,
[Greek: MPAIRON].
[Footnote 1: 'The Giaour' was reviewed in the 'Monthly Review' for June,
1813 (N.S. vol. lxxi. p. 202). In the Editor's copy is added in MS. at
the end of the article, as indicating the author of the review, the word
"Den."]
* * * * *
298.--To Francis Hodgson.
June 8th, 1813.
My dear Hodgson,--In town for a night I find your card. I had written to
you at Cambridge merely to say that Murray has thought it expedient to
publish 'The Giaour' at his own risk (and reimbursement, if he can), and
that, as it will probably be in your department in the 'Monthly', I
wished to state that, in the published copies, there are additions to
the tune of 300 lines or so towards the end, and, if reviewed, it should
_not_ be from the privately printed copy. So much for scribbling.
I shall manage to see you somewhere before I sail, which will be next
month; till then I am yours here, and afterwards any where and every
where,
Dear H., _tutto tuo_,
BN.
* * * * *
299.--To John Murray.
Je. 9, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I regret much that I have no profane garment to array you
with for the masquerade. As my motions will be uncertain, you need not
write nor send the proofs till my return.
Yours truly,
BN.
P.S.--My wardrobe is out of town--or I could have dressed you as an
Albanian--or a Turk--or an officer--or a Waggoner.
* * * * *
300.--To John Murray.
June 12, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Having occasion to send a servant to London, I will thank you
to inform me whether I left with the other things 3 miniatures in your
care (--if not--I know where to find them), and also to "report
progress" in unpacking the books? The bearer returns this evening.
How does Hobhouse's work go on, or rather off--for that is the essential
part? In yesterday's paper, immediately under an advertisement on
"Strictures in the Urethra," I see--most appropriately consequent--a
poem with "_strictures_ on Ld B., Mr. Southey and others,"[1] though I
am afraid neither "Mr. S.'s" poetical distemper, nor "mine," nor
"others," is of the suppressive or stranguary kind. You may read me the
prescription of this kill or cure physician. The medicine is compounded
at White and Cochrane's, Fleet Street. As I have nothing else to do, I
may enjoy it like Sir Fretful, or the Archbishop of Grenada, or any
other personage in like predicament.
Recollect that my lacquey returns in the Evening, and that I set out for
Portsmouth [2] to-morrow. All here are very well, and much pleased with
your politeness and attention during their stay in town.
Believe me, yours truly,
B.
P.S.--Are there anything but books? If so, let those _extras_ remain
untouched for the present. I trust you have not stumbled on any more
"Aphrodites," and have burnt those. I send you both the advertisements,
but don't send me the first treatise--as I have no occasion for
_Caustic_ in that quarter.
[Footnote 1: In the 'Morning Chronicle' (June 10, 1813) appeared
advertisements of the two following books:--'Practical Observations on
the best mode of curing Strictures, etc., with Remarks on Inefficacy,
etc., of Caustic Applications'. By William Wadd. Printed for J. Callow,
Soho. 'Modern Poets; a Dialogue in Verse, containing some Strictures on
the Poetry of Lord Byron, Mr. Southey, and Others'. Printed for White,
Cochrane, and Co., Fleet Street.
In a note on 'Modern Poets' (p. 7) occurs the following passage:
"In 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers' the same respectable corps
of critics is successively exhibited, in the course of only ten lines,
under the following significant but somewhat incongruous forms, viz.
(1) Northern Wolves, (2) Harpies, (3) Bloodhounds."
In proof the writer quotes lines 426-437 of the Satire. Then follows a
long review of 'Childe Harold', in which the critic condemns Harold, the
hero, as "an uncouth incumbrance of this flighty Lord;" the want of
"plot ... action and fable, interest, order, end;" and asks:
"Shall he immortal bays aspire to wear
Who immortality from man would tear,
Repress the sigh which hopes a happier home,
And chase the visions of a life to come?"]
[Footnote 2: For Byron's intention to go abroad with Lord and Lady
Oxford, see p. 164, 'note' 3 [Footnote 6 of Letter 256.]]
* * * * *
301.--To John Murray.
[Maidenhead], June 13, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Amongst the books from Bennet St. is a small vol. of
abominable poems by the Earl of Haddington which must not be in ye
Catalogue on Sale--also--a vol. of French Epigrams in the same
predicament.
On the title page of Meletius is an inscription in writing which must be
_erased_ and made illegible.
I have read the strictures, which are just enough, and not grossly
abusive, in very fair couplets. There is a note against Massinger near
the end, but one cannot quarrel with one's company, at any rate. The
author detects some incongruous figures in a passage of 'E. Bds'., page
23., but which edition I do not know. In the _sole_ copy in your
possession--I mean the _fifth_ edition--you may make these alterations,
that I may profit (though a little too late) by his remarks:--For
"_hellish_ instinct," substitute "_brutal_ instinct;" "_harpies_" alter
to "_felons_;" and for "blood-hounds" write "hell-hounds." These be
"very bitter words, by my troth," and the alterations not much sweeter;
but as I shall not publish the thing, they can do no harm, but are a
satisfaction to me in the way of amendment. The passage is only 12
lines.
You do not answer me about H.'s book; I want to write to him, and not to
say anything unpleasing. If you direct to Post Office, Portsmouth, till
_called_ for, I will send and receive your letter. You never told me of
the forthcoming critique on 'Columbus' [1] which is not _too_ fair; and
I do not think justice quite done to the 'Pleasures', which surely
entitles the author to a higher rank than that assigned to him in the
'Quarterly'. But I must not cavil at the decisions of the _invisible
infallibles_; and the article is very well written. The general horror
of "_fragments_" [2] makes me tremulous for "_The Giaour_;" but you
would publish it--I presume, by this time, to your repentance. But as I
consented, whatever be its fate, I won't now quarrel with you, even
though I detect it in my pastry; but I shall not open a pye without
apprehension for some weeks.
The Books which may be marked G.O. I will carry out. Do you know
Clarke's 'Naufragia' [3]? I am told that he asserts the _first_ volume
of 'Robinson Crusoe' was written by the first Lord Oxford, when in the
Tower, and given by him to Defoe; if true, it is a curious anecdote.
Have you got back Lord Brooke's MS.? and what does Heber say of it?
Write to me at Portsmouth.
Ever yours, etc.,
Bn.
[Footnote 1: Rogers's _Columbus_ was reviewed by Ward in the _Quarterly_
for March, 1813. The reviewer detects "evident marks of haste" in the
poem.]
[Footnote 2: _The Giaour_, like _Columbus_, was written in fragments.]
[Footnote 3: James Stanier Clarke, a Navy Chaplain (1765-1834),
published, in 1805, 'Naufragia, or Historical Memoirs of Shipwrecks'. In
that work he does not himself attribute the _first_ volume of 'Robinson
Crusoe' to Lord Oxford. The following is the passage to which Byron
refers ('Naufragia', vol. i. pp. 12, 13): "But before I conclude this
Section, I wish to make the admirers of this Nautical Romance mindful of
a Report, which prevailed many years ago; that Defoe, after all, was not
the real author of Robinson Crusoe. This assertion is noticed in an
article in the seventh volume of the 'Edinburgh Magazine' [vol. vii. p.
269]. Dr. Towers, in his 'Life' of Defoe in the 'Biographia', is
inclined to pay no attention to it; but was that writer aware of the
following letter, which also appeared in the 'Gentleman's Magazine' for
1788? (vol. lviii. part i. p. 208). At least no notice is taken of it in
his 'Life' of Defoe:
"'Dublin, February 25.
"Mr. Urban,--In the course of a late conversation with a nobleman of
the first consequence and information in this kingdom, he assured me,
that Mr. Benjamin Holloway, of Middleton Stony, assured him, some time
ago: that he knew for fact, that the celebrated Romance of 'Robinson
Crusoe' was really written by the Earl of Oxford, when confined in the
Tower of London: that his Lordship gave the manuscript to Daniel
Defoe, who frequently visited him during his confinement: and that
Defoe, having afterwards added the second volume, published the whole
as his own production. This anecdote I would not venture to send to
your valuable magazine, if I did not think my information good, and
imagine it might be acceptable to your numerous readers,
not-withstanding the work has heretofore been generally attributed to
the latter. W. W.'
"It is impossible for me to enter on a discussion of this literary
subject; though I thought the circumstance ought to be more generally
known. And yet I must observe, that I always discerned a very striking
falling off between the composition of the first and second volumes of
this Romance--they seem to bear evident marks of having been the work of
different writers."
A volume of memoranda in the handwriting of Warton, the Laureate,
preserved in the British Museum, contains the following:
"Mem. Jul. 10, 1774. In the year 1759, I was told by the Rev. Mr.
Benjamin Holloway, rector of Middleton Stony, in Oxfordshire, then
about 70 years old, and in the early part of his life domestic
Chaplain to Lord Sunderland, that he had often heard Lord Sunderland
say that Lord Oxford, while a prisoner in the Tower of London, wrote
the first volume of the History of Robinson Crusoe, merely as an
amusement under confinement; and gave it to Daniel De Foe, who
frequently visited Lord Oxford in the Tower, and was one of his
Pamphlet writers. That De Foe, by Lord Oxford's permission, printed it
as his own, and, encouraged by its extraordinary success, added
himself the second volume, the inferiority of which is generally
acknowledged. Mr. Holloway also told me, from Lord Sunderland, that
Lord Oxford dictated some parts of the manuscript to De Foe. Mr.
Holloway was a grave conscientious clergyman, not vain of telling
anecdotes, very learned, particularly a good orientalist, author of
some theological tracts, bred at Eton School, and a Master of Arts at
St. John's College, Cambridge. He lived many years with great respect
in Lord Sunderland's family, and was like to the late Duke of
Marlborough. He died, as I remember, about the year 1761." ]
* * * * *
302.--To John Murray.
June 18, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Will you forward the enclosed answer to the kindest letter I
ever received in my life, my sense of which I can neither express to Mr.
Gifford himself nor to any one else?
Ever yours,
B'N.
* * * * *
303.--To W. Gifford.
June 18, 1813.
My Dear Sir,--I feel greatly at a loss how to write to you at all--still
more to thank you as I ought. If you knew the veneration with which I
have ever regarded you, long before I had the most distant prospect of
becoming your acquaintance, literary or personal, my embarrassment would
not surprise you.
Any suggestion of yours, even were it conveyed in the less tender shape
of the text of the 'Baviad', or a Monk Mason note in Massinger, [1]
would have been obeyed; I should have endeavoured to improve myself by
your censure: judge then if I shall be less willing to profit by your
kindness. It is not for me to bandy compliments with my elders and my
betters: I receive your approbation with gratitude, and will not return
my brass for your Gold by expressing more fully those sentiments of
admiration, which, however sincere, would, I know, be unwelcome.
To your advice on Religious topics, I shall equally attend. Perhaps the
best way will be by avoiding them altogether. The already published
objectionable passages have been much commented upon, but certainly have
been rather _strongly_ interpreted. I am no Bigot to Infidelity, and did
not expect that, because I doubted the immortality of Man, I should be
charged with denying the existence of a God. It was the comparative
insignificance of ourselves and _our world_, when placed in competition
with the mighty whole, of which it is an atom, that first led me to
imagine that our pretensions to eternity might be over-rated.
This, and being early disgusted with a Calvinistic Scotch school, where
I was cudgelled to Church for the first ten years of my life, afflicted
me with this malady; for, after all, it is, I believe, a disease of the
mind as much as other kinds of hypochondria.
I regret to hear you talk of ill-health. May you long exist! not only to
enjoy your own fame, but outlive that of fifty such ephemeral
adventurers as myself.
As I do not sail quite so soon as Murray may have led you to expect (not
till July) I trust I have some chance of taking you by the hand before
my departure, and repeating in person how sincerely and affectionately I
am
Your obliged servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 198 [Footnote 4 of Letter 192.]]
* * * * *
304.--To John Murray.
June 22, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I send you a _corrected_ copy of the lines with several
_important_ alterations,--so many that this had better be sent for proof
rather than subject the other to so many blots.
You will excuse the eternal trouble I inflict upon you. As you will see,
I have attended to your Criticism, and softened a passage you proscribed
this morning.
Yours veritably,
B.
* * * * *
305.--To Thomas Moore.
June 22, 1813.
Yesterday I dined in company with Stael, the "Epicene," [1] whose
politics are sadly changed. She is for the Lord of Israel and the Lord
of Liverpool--a vile antithesis of a Methodist and a Tory--talks of
nothing but devotion and the ministry, and, I presume, expects that God
and the government will help her to a pension.
Murray, the [Greek: anax] of publishers, the Anak of stationers, has a
design upon you in the paper line. He wants you to become the staple and
stipendiary editor of a periodical work. What say you? Will you be
bound, like "Kit Smart, to write for ninety-nine years in the
_Universal Visitor?_" [2]
Seriously, he talks of hundreds a year, and--though I hate prating of
the beggarly elements--his proposal may be to your honour and profit,
and, I am very sure, will be to our pleasure.
I don't know what to say about "friendship." I never was in friendship
but once, in my nineteenth year, and then it gave me as much trouble as
love. I am afraid, as Whitbread's sire said to the king, when he wanted
to knight him, that I am "too old;" [3] but nevertheless, no one wishes
you more friends, fame, and felicity, than
Yours, etc.
[Footnote 1:
"'And ah! what verse can grace thy stately mien,
Guide of the world, preferment's golden queen,
Neckar's fair daughter, Stael the 'Epicene'!
Bright o'er whose flaming cheek and pumple nose
The bloom of young desire unceasing glows!
Fain would the Muse--but ah! she dares no more,
A mournful voice from lone 'Guyana's' shore,
Sad Quatremer, the bold presumption checks,
Forbid to question thy ambiguous sex.'
"These lines contain the Secret History of Quatremer's deportation. He
presumed, in the Council of Five Hundred, to arraign Madame de Stael's
conduct, and even to hint a doubt of her sex. He was sent to 'Guyana'.
The transaction naturally brings to one's mind the dialogue between
Falstaff and Hostess Quickly in Shakespeare's 'Henry IV'."
'Canning's New Morality', lines 293-301 (Edmonds' edition of the 'Poetry
of the Anti-Jacobin', pp. 282, 283).
Anne Louise Germaine Necker (1766-1817), only child of the Minister
Necker and his wife Suzanne Curchod, Gibbon's early love, married, in
1786, the Swedish Ambassador Baron de Stael Holstein, who died in 1802.
She married, as her second husband, in 1811, M. de Rocca, a young French
officer, who had been severely wounded in Spain, but survived her by a
year (Madame de Recamier, 'Souvenirs', vol. i. p. 272). Her book, 'De
l'Allemagne', seized and destroyed by Napoleon, was brought out in June,
1813, by John Murray. Byron thought her
"certainly the cleverest, though not the most agreeable woman he had
ever known. 'She declaimed to you instead of conversing with you,'
said he, 'never pausing except to take breath; and if during that
interval a rejoinder was put in, it was evident that she did not
attend to it, as she resumed the thread of her discourse as though it
had not been interrupted'"
(Lady Blessington's 'Conversations', p. 26). Croker ('Croker Papers',
vol. i. p. 327) describes her as
"ugly, and not of an intellectual ugliness. Her features were coarse,
and the ordinary expression rather vulgar, she had an ugly mouth, and
one or two irregularly prominent teeth, which perhaps gave her
countenance an habitual gaiety. Her eye was full, dark, and
expressive; and when she declaimed, which was almost whenever she
spoke, she looked eloquent, and one forgot that she was plain."
Madame de Stael
"did not affect to conceal her preference for the society of men to
that of her own sex,"
and was entirely above, or below, studying the feminine arts of
pleasing. In 1802 Miss Berry called on her in Paris.
"Found her in an excessively dirty 'cabinet'--sofa singularly so;
her own dress, a loose spencer with a bare neck"
('Journal', vol. ii. p. 145). A similar experience is mentioned by Crabb
Robinson ('Diary', 1804).
"On the 28th of January," he writes, "I first waited on Madame de
Stael. I was shown into her bedroom, for which, not knowing Parisian
customs, I was unprepared. She was sitting, most decorously, 'in'
her bed, and writing. She had her night-cap on, and her face was not
made up for the day. It was by no means a captivating spectacle; but I
had a very cordial reception, and two bright black eyes smiled
benignantly on me."
Of her political opinions Sir John Bowring ('Autobiographical
Recollections', pp. 375, 376) has left a sketch.
"Madame de Stael was a perfect aristocrat, and her sympathies were
wholly with the great and prosperous. She saw nothing in England but
the luxury, stupidity, and pride of the Tory aristocracy, and the
intelligence and magnificence of the Whig aristocracy. These latter
talked about truth, and liberty and herself, and she supposed it was
all as it should be. As to the millions, the people, she never
inquired into their situation. She had a horror of the
'canaille', but anything of 'sangre asul' had a charm for
her. When she was dying she said, 'Let me die in peace; let my last
moments be undisturbed.' Yet she ordered the cards of every visitor to
be brought to her. Among them was one from the Duc de Richelieu.
'What!' exclaimed she indignantly, 'What! have you sent away the
'Duke'? Hurry! Fly after him. Bring him back. Tell him that,
though I die for all the world, I live for 'him'.'"
Napoleon's hatred of her was intense. "Do not allow that jade, Madame de
Stael," he writes to Fouche, December 31, 1806 ('New Letters of Napoleon
I.', p. 35), "to come near Paris." Again, March 15, 1807 ('ibid.', p.
39), "You are not to allow Madame de Stael to come within forty leagues
of Paris. That wicked schemer ought to make up her mind to behave
herself at last." In a third letter, April 19, 1807 ('ibid.', p. 40), he
speaks of her as "paying court, one day to the great--a patriot, a
democrat, the next!... a fright, ... a worthless woman" (Leon Lecestre's
'Lettres inedites de Napoleon I'er', 2nd ed. vol. i. pp. 84, 88, 93).]
[Footnote 2:
"Old Gardner the bookseller employed Rolt and Smart to write a monthly
miscellany called the 'Universal Visitor'. There was a formal written
contract, which Allen the printer saw.... They were bound to write
nothing else; they were to have, I think, a third of the profits of
his sixpenny pamphlet; and the contract was for ninety-nine years"
(Boswell's 'Life of Dr. Johnson', ed. Birrell, vol. iii. p. 192).]
[Footnote 3:
"But first the Monarch, so polite,
Ask'd Mister Whitbread if he'd be a 'Knight'.
Unwilling in the list to be enroll'd,
Whitbread contemplated the Knights of 'Peg',
Then to his generous Sov'reign made a leg,
And said, 'He was afraid he was 'too old','" etc.
Peter Pindar's 'Instructions to a Laureat'.]
* * * * *
306.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
4, Bennet Street, June 26th, 1813.
MY DEAREST AUGUSTA,--Let me know when you arrive, and when, and where,
and how, you would like to see me,--any where in short but at _dinner_.
I have put off going into ye country on purpose to _waylay_ you.
Ever yours, Byron
* * * * *
307.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
[June, 1813.]
MY DEAREST AUGUSTA,--And if you knew _whom_ I had put off besides my
journey--you would think me grown strangely fraternal. However I won't
overwhelm you with my _own praises_.
Between one and two be it--I shall, in course, prefer seeing you all to
myself without the incumbrance of third persons, even of _your_ (for I
won't own the relationship) fair cousin of _eleven page_ memory [1],
who, by the bye, makes one of the finest busts I have seen in the
Exhibition, or out of it. Good night!
Ever yours, BYRON.
P.S.--Your writing is grown like my Attorney's, and gave me a qualm,
till I found the remedy in your signature.
[Footnote 1: 'Letters', vol. i. p. 54 [end of Footnote 3 of Letter 13.],
Lady Gertrude Howard married, in 1806, William Sloane Stanley, and died
in 1870.]
* * * * *
308.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
[Sunday], June 27th, 1813.
MY DEAREST AUGUSTA,--If you like to go with me to ye Lady Davy's [1] [
to-night, I _have_ an invitation for you.
There you will see the _Stael_, some people whom you know, and _me_ whom
you do _not_ know,--and you can talk to which you please, and I will
watch over you as if you were unmarried and in danger of always being
so. Now do as you like; but if you chuse to array yourself before or
after half past ten, I will call for you. I think our being together
before 3d people will be a new _sensation_ to _both_.
Ever yours,
B.
[Footnote 1: Sir Humphry Davy (1778-1829), the son of a wood-carver of
Penzance, was apprenticed to John Borlase, a surgeon at Penzance, in
whose dispensary he became a chemist. He wrote poetry as a young man,
but soon abandoned the pursuit for science. Two poems on Byron by Davy,
one written in 1823, the other in 1824, will be found in Dr. Davy's
'Memoirs of the Life of Sir H. Davy', vol. ii. pp. 168, 169. In October,
1798, he joined Dr. Beddoes at Bristol, where he superintended the
laboratory at his Pneumatic Institution. His 'Researches, Chemical and
Philosophical' (1799), made him famous. At the Royal Institution in
London, founded in 1799, Davy became assistant-lecturer in chemistry,
and director of the chemical laboratory. There his lecture-room was
crowded by some of the most distinguished men and women of the day.
Within the next few years his discoveries in electricity and galvanism,
(1806-7) brought him European celebrity; his lectures on agricultural
chemistry (1810) marked a fresh era in farming, and inaugurated the new
movement of "science with practice." His famous discovery of the Safety
Lamp was made in 1816. He was created a baronet in 1818. A skilful
fisherman, he wrote, when in declining health, 'Salmonia, or Days of
Fly-fishing', published in 1827. Ticknor ('Life', vol. i. p. 57),
speaking of Davy in 1815, says,
"He is now about thirty-three, but with all the freshness and bloom of
five-and-twenty, and one of the handsomest men I have seen in England.
He has a great deal of vivacity, talks rapidly, though with great
precision, and is so much interested in conversation, that his
excitement amounts to nervous impatience, and keeps him in constant
motion."
Davy married, in 1812, a rich widow, Jane Aprecce, 'nee' Kerr
(1780-1855). The marriage brought him wealth; but it also, it is said,
impaired the simplicity of his character, and made him ambitious of
social distinction. Miss Berry ('Journal', vol. ii. p. 535) supped with
Lady Davy in May, 1813, to meet the Princess of Wales, and notes that
among the other guests was Byron. Lady Davy, who was so dark a brunette
that Sydney Smith said she was as brown as a dry toast, was for many
years a prominent figure in the society of London and Rome. It was of
her that Madame de Stael said that she had "all Corinne's talents
without her faults or extravagances." Ticknor, who called on her in
June, 1815,
"found her in her parlour, working on a dress, the contents of her
basket strewed about the table, and looking more like home than
anything since I left it. She is small, with black eyes and hair, a
very pleasant face, an uncommonly sweet smile, and, when she speaks,
has much spirit and expression in her countenance. Her conversation is
agreeable, particularly in the choice and variety of her phraseology,
and has more the air of eloquence than I have ever heard before from a
lady." ('Life of George Ticknor', vol. i. P. 57).]
* * * * *
309.--To John Murray.
July 1st, 1813.
DEAR SIR,--There is an error in my dedication. [1] The word "_my_" must
be struck out--"my" admiration, etc.; it is a false construction and
disagrees with the signature. I hope this will arrive in time to prevent
a _cancel_ and serve for a proof; recollect it is only the "my" to be
erased throughout.
There is a critique in the 'Satirist', [2] which I have read,--fairly
written, and, though _vituperative_, very fair in judgment. One part
belongs to you, _viz_., the 4_s_. and 6_d_ charge; it is unconscionable,
but you have no conscience.
Yours truly,
B.
[Footnote 1: The dedication was originally printed thus:
"To Samuel Rogers, Esq., as a slight but most sincere token of my
admiration of his genius."]
[Footnote 2: 'The Satirist' for July 1, 1813 (pp. 70-88), reviews the
'Giaour' at length. It condemns it for its fragmentary character and
consequent obscurity, its carelessness and defects of style; but it also
admits that the poem "abounds with proofs of genius:"
"A word in conclusion. The noble lord appears to have an
aristocratical solicitude to be read only by the opulent. Four
shillings and sixpence for forty-one octavo pages of poetry! and those
pages verily happily answering to Mr. Sheridan's image of a rivulet of
text flowing through a meadow of margin. My good Lord Byron, while you
are revelling in all the sensual and intellectual luxury which the
successful sale of Newstead Abbey has procured for you, you little
think of the privations to which you have subjected us unfortunate
Reviewers, ... in order to enable us to purchase your lordship's
expensive publication."]
* * * * *
310.--To Thomas Moore.
4, Benedictine Street, St. James's, July 8, 1813.
I presume by your silence that I have blundered into something noxious
in my reply to your letter, for the which I beg leave to send beforehand
a sweeping apology, which you may apply to any, or all, parts of that
unfortunate epistle. If I err in my conjecture, I expect the like from
you in putting our correspondence so long in quarantine. God he knows
what I have said; but he also knows (if he is not as indifferent to
mortals as the _nonchalant_ deities of Lucretius), that you are the last
person I want to offend. So, if I have,--why the devil don't you say it
at once, and expectorate your spleen?
Rogers is out of town with Madame de Stael, who hath published an Essay
against Suicide, [1] which, I presume, will make somebody shoot
himself;--as a sermon by Blenkinsop, in _proof_ of Christianity, sent a
hitherto most orthodox acquaintance of mine out of a chapel of ease a
perfect atheist. Have you found or founded a residence yet? and have you
begun or finished a poem? If you won't tell me what _I_ have done, pray
say what you have done, or left undone, yourself. I am still in
equipment for voyaging, and anxious to hear from, or of, you _before_ I
go, which anxiety you should remove more readily, as you think I sha'n't
cogitate about you afterwards. I shall give the lie to that calumny by
fifty foreign letters, particularly from any place where the plague is
rife,--without a drop of vinegar or a whiff of sulphur to save you from
infection.
The Oxfords have sailed almost a fortnight, and my sister is in town,
which is a great comfort,--for, never having been much together, we are
naturally more attached to each other. I presume the illuminations have
conflagrated to Derby (or wherever you are) by this time. [2] We are
just recovering from tumult and train oil, and transparent fripperies,
and all the noise and nonsense of victory. Drury Lane had a large
_M.W._, which some thought was Marshal Wellington; others, that it might
be translated into Manager Whitbread; while the ladies of the vicinity
of the saloon conceived the last letter to be complimentary to
themselves. I leave this to the commentators to illustrate. If you don't
answer this, I sha'n't say what _you_ deserve, but I think _I_ deserve a
reply. Do you conceive there is no Post-Bag but the Twopenny? [3]
Sunburn me, if you are not too bad.
[Footnote 1:
"Madame de Stael treats me as the person whom she most delights to
honour; I am generally ordered with her to dinner, as one orders beans
and bacon: she is one of the few persons who surpass expectation; she
has every sort of talent, and would be universally popular, if, in
society, she were to confine herself to her inferior talents--
pleasantry, anecdote, and literature. I have reviewed her 'Essay on
Suicide' in the last 'Edinburgh Review': it is not one of her best,
and I have accordingly said more of the author and the subject than of
the work."
Sir J. Mackintosh ('Life', vol. ii. p. 269).]
[Footnote 2: One result of the illuminations in honour of the battle of
Vittoria (June 21, 1813), which took place July 7, was a great fire at
Woolwich. Moore was at this time living at Mayfield Cottage near
Ashbourne, in Derbyshire.]
[Footnote 3: Moore's 'Intercepted Letters, or the Twopenny Post-bag',
was published, without his name, in 1813.]
* * * * *
311.--To Thomas Moore.
July 13, 1813.
Your letter set me at ease; for I really thought (as I hear of your
susceptibility) that I had said--I know not what--but something I should
have been very sorry for, had it, or I, offended you;--though I don't
see how a man with a beautiful wife--_his own_ children,--quiet--fame
--competency and friends, (I will vouch for a thousand, which is more
than I will for a unit in my own behalf,) can be offended with any thing.
Do you know, Moore, I am amazingly inclined--remember I say but
_inclined_--to be seriously enamoured with Lady A[delaide] F[orbes]
[1]--but this----has ruined all my prospects. However, you know her;
is she _clever_, or sensible, or good-tempered? either _would_ do--I
scratch out the _will_. I don't ask as to her beauty--that I see; but my
circumstances are mending, and were not my other prospects blackening, I
would take a wife, and that should be the woman, had I a chance. I do
not yet know her much, but better than I did.
I want to get away, but find difficulty in compassing a passage in a
ship of war. They had better let me go; if I cannot, patriotism is the
word--"nay, an they'll mouth, I'll rant as well as they." [2]
Now, what are you doing?--writing, we all hope, for our own sakes.
Remember you must edit my posthumous works, with a Life of the Author,
for which I will send you Confessions, dated "Lazaretto," Smyrna, Malta,
or Palermo--one can die any where.
There is to be a thing on Tuesday ycleped a national fete [3]. The
Regent and----are to be there, and every body else, who has shillings
enough for what was once a guinea. Vauxhall is the scene--there are six
tickets issued for the modest women, and it is supposed there will be
three to spare. The passports for the lax are beyond my arithmetic.
P. S.--The Stael last night attacked me most furiously--said that I had
"no right to make love--that I had used----barbarously--that I had no
feeling, and was totally _in_sensible to _la belle passion_, and _had_
been all my life." I am very glad to hear it, but did not know it
before. Let me hear from you anon.
[Footnote 1:
"Lady A. F----'was' also very handsome. It is melancholy to talk of
women in the past tense. What a pity, that of all flowers, none fade
so soon as beauty! Poor Lady A. F--has not got married. Do you know, I
once had some thoughts of her as a wife; not that I was in love, as
people call it, but I had argued myself into a belief that I ought to
marry, and, meeting her very often in society, the notion came into my
head, not heart, that she would suit me. Moore, too, told me so much
of her good qualities--all which was, I believe, quite true--that I
felt tempted to propose to her, but did not, whether 'tant mieux' or
'tant pis', God knows, supposing my proposal accepted."
(Lady Blessington's 'Conversations', pp. 108, 109).
Lady Adelaide Forbes, whom Byron in Rome compared to the "Belvedere
Apollo," was the daughter of George, sixth Earl of Granard, and his
wife, Lady Selina Rawdon, daughter of the first Earl of Moira. Born in
1789, she died at Dresden, in 1858, unmarried. Lord Moira was Moore's
patron, and, through this connection and political sympathies, Moore was
acquainted with Lord Granard and his family.]
[Footnote 2: Byron possibly quoted the actual words from 'Hamlet' (act
v. sc. 1), referring to Moore's attack on the Regent in 'The Two-penny
Post-bag':
"Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou."
But the letter is destroyed.]
[Footnote 3: The 'Morning Chronicle' for July 12 contains the
announcement that "the Prince Regent has projected a 'Grand National
Fete' in honour of the battle of Vittoria. It is to be held at Vauxhall
Gardens." The 'fete' was held on Tuesday, July 20, beginning with a
banquet, at which such toasts were drunk as "The Marquis of Wellington,"
"Sir Thomas Graham and the other officers engaged," "The Spanish Armies
and the brave Guerillas." The 'baton' of Marshal Jourdan was "disposed
among the plate, so as to be obvious to all." The proceedings ended with
illuminations and dancing.]
* * * * *
312.--To John Hanson.
Sunday, July 18th, 1813.
DEAR SIR,--A Report is in general circulation (which has distressed my
friends, and is not very pleasing to me), that the Purchaser of Newstead
is a _young_ man, who has been over-reached, ill-treated, and ruined, by
me in this transaction of the sale, and that I take an unfair advantage
of the _law_ to enforce the contract. This must be contradicted by a
true and open statement of the circumstances attending, and subsequent
to, the sale, and that immediately and publicly. Surely, if anyone is
ill treated it is myself. He bid his own price; he took time before he
bid at all, and now, when I am actually granting him further time as a
favour, I hear from all quarters that I have acted unfairly. Pray do not
delay on this point; see him, and let a proper and true statement be
drawn up of the sale, etc., and inserted in the papers.
Ever yours,
B.
P.S.--Mr. C. himself, if he has either honour or feeling, will be the
first to vindicate me from so unfounded an implication. It is surely not
for his credit to be supposed _ruined_ or _over-reached_.
* * * * *
313.--To John Murray.
July 22nd, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I have great pleasure in accepting your invitation to meet
anybody or nobody as you like best.
Pray what should you suppose the book in the inclosed advertisement to
be? is it anything relating to Buonaparte or Continental Concerns? If
so, it may be worth looking after, particularly if it should turn out to
be your purchase--Lucien's _Epic_.
Believe me, very truly yours,
BYRON.
* * * * *
314.--To Thomas Moore.
July 25, 1813.
I am not well versed enough in the ways of single woman to make much
matrimonial progress.
I have been dining like the dragon of Wantley [1] for this last week. My
head aches with the vintage of various cellars, and my brains are
muddled as their dregs. I met your friends the Daltons:--she sang one of
your best songs so well, that, but for the appearance of affectation, I
could have cried; he reminds me of Hunt, but handsomer, and more musical
in soul, perhaps. I wish to God he may conquer his horrible anomalous
complaint. The upper part of her face is beautiful, and she seems much
attached to her husband. He is right, nevertheless, in leaving this
nauseous town. The first winter would infallibly destroy her
complexion,--and the second, very probably, every thing else.
I must tell you a story. Morris [2] (of indifferent memory) was dining
out the other day, and complaining of the Prince's coldness to his old
wassailers. D'Israeli (a learned Jew) bored him with questions--why
this? and why that? "Why did the Prince act thus?"--"Why, sir, on
account of Lord----, who ought to be ashamed of himself."--"And why
ought Lord----to be ashamed of himself?"--"Because the Prince, sir,
--------"--"And why, sir, did the Prince cut _you_?"--"Because, G--d
d--mme, sir, I stuck to my principles."--"And why did you stick to your
principles?"
Is not this last question the best that was ever put, when you consider
to whom? It nearly killed Morris. Perhaps you may think it stupid, but,
as Goldsmith said about the peas, [3] it was a very good joke when I
heard it--as I did from an ear-witness--and is only spoilt in my
narration.
The season has closed with a dandy ball; [4]--but I have dinners with
the Harrowbys, Rogers, and Frere and Mackintosh [5], where I shall drink
your health in a silent bumper, and regret your absence till "too much
canaries" wash away my memory, or render it superfluous by a vision of
you at the opposite side of the table. Canning has disbanded his party
by a speech from his [----]--the true throne of a Tory [6].
Conceive his turning them off in a formal harangue, and bidding them
think for themselves. "I have led my ragamuffins where they are well
peppered. There are but three of the 150 left alive," [7] and they are
for the _Townsend_ (_query_, might not Falstaff mean the Bow Street
officer? I dare say Malone's posthumous edition will have it so) for
life.
Since I wrote last, I have been into the country. I journeyed by
night--no incident, or accident, but an alarm on the part of my valet on
the outside, who, in crossing Epping Forest, actually, I believe, flung
down his purse before a mile-stone, with a glow-worm in the second
figure of number XIX--mistaking it for a footpad and dark lantern. I can
only attribute his fears to a pair of new pistols wherewith I had armed
him; and he thought it necessary to display his vigilance by calling out
to me whenever we passed any thing--no matter whether moving or
stationary. Conceive ten miles, with a tremor every furlong. I have
scribbled you a fearfully long letter. This sheet must be blank, and is
merely a wrapper, to preclude the tabellarians [8] of the post from
peeping. You once complained of my _not_ writing;--I will "heap coals of
fire upon your head" by _not_ complaining of your _not_ reading.
Ever, my dear Moore, your'n (isn't that the Staffordshire termination?),
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Under the title of "An excellent Ballad of a most dreadful
combat, fought between Moore of Moore-Hall and the Dragon of Wantley,"
this ballad forms (in the 12th edition) the Argument of 'The Dragon of
Wantley, a Burlesque Opera', performed at Covent Garden, the libretto of
which is by Sig. Carini, 'i.e.' Henry Carey:
"Have you not heard of the 'Trojan' Horse;
With Seventy Men in his Belly?
This Dragon was not quite so big,
But very near, I'll tell you;
Devoured he poor Children three,
That could not with him grapple;
And at one sup he eat them up,
As one would eat an Apple.
"All sorts of Cattle this Dragon did eat,
Some say he eat up Trees,
And that the Forest sure he would
Devour by degrees.
For Houses and Churches were to him Geese and Turkies;
He eat all, and left none behind,
But some Stones, dear Jack, which he could not crack,
Which on the Hills you'll find."]
[Footnote 2: Charles Morris (1745-1838) served in the 17th Foot, the
Royal Irish Dragoons, and finally in the Second Life Guards. He was
laureate and punch-maker to the Beef-steak Club, founded in 1735 by John
Rich, patentee of Covent Garden Theatre. The Prince of Wales became a
member of the Club in 1785, and Morris was a frequent guest at Carlton
House. Another member of the Club was the Duke of Norfolk, who gave
Morris the villa at Brockham, near Betchworth, where he lived and died.
Morris, who was an admirable song-writer and singer, attached himself
politically to the Prince's party, and attacked Pitt in such popular
ballads as "Billy's too young to drive us," and "Billy Pitt and the
Farmer." He was, however, disappointed in his hope of reward from his
political patrons, and vented his spleen in his ode, "The Old Whig Poet
to his Old Buff Waistcoat"
"Farewell, thou poor rag of the Muse!
In the bag of the clothesman go lie;
A farthing thou'lt fetch from the Jews,
Which the hard-hearted Christians deny," etc.
Some of his poems deserve the censure of 'The Shade of Pope' (line 225):
"There reeling Morris and his bestial songs."
But others, in their ease and vivacity, hold their own with all but the
best of Moore's songs. A collection of them was printed in two volumes
by Bentley, in 1840, under the title of 'Lyra Urbanica'.]
[Footnote 3: In Forster's 'Life of Goldsmith' (vol. i. p. 34) it is
related that Goldsmith ran away from Trinity College, Dublin, because he
had been beaten by one of the Fellows. He started for Cork with a
shilling in his pocket, on which he lived for three days. He told
Reynolds that he thought
"a handful of grey pease, given him by a girl at a wake (after fasting
for twenty-four hours) the most comfortable repast he had ever made."
Byron may mean that any joke seems good to a man who had not heard one
for a day.]
[Footnote 4:
"I liked the Dandies," says Byron, in his 'Detached Thoughts'; "they
were always very civil to _me_, though in general they disliked
literary people, and persecuted and mystified Madme. de Stael, Lewis,
Horace Twiss, and the like, damnably. They persuaded Madme. de Stael
that Alvanley had a hundred thousand a year, etc., etc., till she
praised him to his _face_ for his _beauty!_ and made a set at him for
Albertine ('Libertine', as Brummell baptized her, though the poor girl
was, and is, as correct as maid or wife can be, and very amiable
withal), and a hundred other fooleries besides. The truth is, that,
though I gave up the business early, I had a tinge of Dandyism in my
minority, and probably retained enough of it to conciliate the great
ones at four and twenty. I had gamed and drunk and taken my degrees in
most dissipations, and, having no pedantry, and not being overbearing,
we ran quietly together. I knew them all more or less, and they made
me a member of Watier's (a superb club at that time), being, I take
it, the only literary man (except 'two' others, both men of the world,
M[oore] and S[pencer]) in it. Our Masquerade was a grand one; so was
the Dandy Ball too--at the Argyle,--but 'that' (the latter) was given
by the four chiefs--B[rummel?], M[idmay?], A[lvanley?], and
P[ierreoint?], if I err not."]
[Footnote 5: Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832), after studying medicine,
was called to the English Bar in 1795. Originally a supporter of the
French Revolution, he answered Burke's 'Reflections' with his 'Vindiciae
Gallicae' (1791). He is "Mr. Macfungus" in the 'Anti-Jacobin's' account
of the "Meeting of the Friends of Freedom." But his revolutionary
sympathies rapidly cooled, and he publicly disavowed them in his
'Introductory Discourse on the Study of the Law of Nature and Nations'
(1799). He remained, however, throughout his life, a Whig. His lectures
on "'The Law of Nature and Nations'," delivered at Lincoln's Inn, in
1799, brought him into prominence, both at the Bar and in society. In
1803 he was knighted on accepting the Recordership of Bombay. He
returned to England in 1812, entered Parliament as member for Nairn,
advocated some useful measures, became a Privy Councillor in 1828, and
held office in the Whig Ministry of 1830 as Commissioner of the Board of
Control. In politics, as well as in literature, he disappointed
expectation. His principal works, besides those mentioned above, were
his 'Dissertation on the Progress of Ethical Philosophy' (1830), and his
'History of the Revolution in England in 1688' (1834).
His great intellectual powers were shown to most advantage in society.
Rogers ('Table-Talk', pp. 197, 198) thought him one of the three acutest
men he had ever known.
"He had a prodigious memory, and could repeat by heart more of Cicero
than you could easily believe.... I never met a man with a fuller mind
than Mackintosh,--such readiness on all subjects, such a talker."
"Till subdued by age and illness," wrote Sydney Smith ('Life of
Mackintosh', vol. ii. p. 500), "his conversation was more brilliant
and instructive than that of any human being I ever had the good
fortune to be acquainted with."
As in political life, so in society, he was too much of the lecturer.
Ticknor ('Life', vol. i. p. 265) thought him "a little too precise, a
little too much made up in his manners and conversation." But on all
sides there is evidence to confirm the testimony of Rogers
('Table-Talk', p. 207) that he was a man "who had not a particle of envy
or jealousy in his nature."]
[Footnote 6: George Canning (1770-1827) had been offered the Foreign
Office in 1812 after the assassination of Perceval, on condition that
Castlereagh should lead the House of Commons. He refused the offer.
Elected M.P. for Liverpool in 1812, he had, in July, 1813, disbanded his
followers, and in 1814 left England. He supported Lord Liverpool in
carrying the repressive measures known as the Six Acts (1817-20), and,
on the death of Lord Londonderry, in 1822, entered the Government as
Secretary for Foreign Affairs. It is to the private speech to his
followers, in July, 1813, that Byron refers.
The 'Morning Chronicle' for July 29, 1813, has the following paragraph:
"Mr. Canning it seems has (to use a French phrase) 'reformed' his
political corps. He assembled them at the close of the Session, and
with many expressions of regret for the failure of certain
negociations, which might have been favourable to them as a body,
relieved them from their oaths of allegiance, and recommended them to
pursue in future their objects separately. The Right Honourable
gentleman, perhaps, finds it more convenient for himself to act
unencumbered; and both he and one or two others may find their
interest in disbanding the squad; but some of them are turned off
'without a character'."
The 'Courier' for July 29, quoting the first part of the statement,
adds,
"We believe ... that Mr. Canning is not indisposed to join the present
Cabinet, and may wish one or two of his particular friends to come in
with him."]
[Footnote 7:
"I have led my ragamuffins where they are pepper'd: there's but three
of my hundred and fifty left alive; and they are for the town's end,
to beg during life."
('Henry IV'., Part I. act v. sc. 3). Townshend, the Bow Street officer,
is described by Cronow ('Reminiscences', vol. i. p. 286) as
"a little fat man with a flaxen wig, Kersey-mere breeches, a blue
straight-cut coat, and a broad-brimmed white hat. To the most daring
courage he added great dexterity and cunning; and was said, 'in
propria persona', to have taken more thieves than all the other Bow
Street officers put together."]
[Footnote 8:
"Epistolam, quam attulerat Phileros tabellarius."
(Cic., 'Fam'.,9, 15).]
* * * * *
315.--To Thomas Moore.
July 27, 1813.
When you next imitate the style of "Tacitus," pray add, _de moribus
Germannorum_;--this last was a piece of barbarous silence, and could
only be taken from the _Woods_, and, as such, I attribute it entirely to
your sylvan sequestration at Mayfield Cottage. You will find, on casting
up accounts, that you are my debtor by several sheets and one epistle. I
shall bring my action;--if you don't discharge, expect to hear from my
attorney. I have forwarded your letter to Ruggiero [1]; but don't make a
postman of me again, for fear I should be tempted to violate your
sanctity of wax or wafer.
Believe me, ever yours _ indignantly_, BN.
[Footnote 1: _i. e._ Samuel Rogers.]
* * * * *
316.--To Thomas Moore.
July 28, 1813.
Can't you be satisfied with the pangs of my jealousy of Rogers, without
actually making me the pander of your epistolary intrigue? This is the
second letter you have enclosed to my address, notwithstanding a
miraculous long answer, and a subsequent short one or two of your own.
If you do so again, I can't tell to what pitch my fury may soar. I shall
send you verse or arsenic, as likely as any thing,--four thousand
couplets on sheets beyond the privilege of franking; that privilege,
sir, of which you take an undue advantage over a too susceptible
senator, by forwarding your lucubrations to every one but himself. I
won't frank _from_ you, or _for_ you, or _to_ you--may I be curst if I
do, unless you mend your manners. I disown you--I disclaim you--and by
all the powers of Eulogy, I will write a panegyric upon you--or
dedicate a quarto--if you don't make me ample amends.
P.S.--I am in training to dine with Sheridan [1] and Rogers this
evening. I have a little spite against R., and will shed his "Clary
wines pottle-deep." [2] This is nearly my ultimate or penultimate
letter; for I am quite equipped, and only wait a passage. Perhaps I may
wait a few weeks for Sligo, but not if I can help it.
[Footnote 1: In his 'Detached Thoughts' Byron has noted the following
impressions of Sheridan:
"In society I have met Sheridan frequently: he was superb! He had a
sort of liking for me, and never attacked me, at least to my face, as
he did every body else--high names, and wits, and orators, some of
them poets also. I have seen him cut up Whitbread, quiz Madame de
Stael, annihilate Colman, and do little less by some others (whose
names, as friends, I set not down) of good fame and ability. Poor
fellow! he got drunk very thoroughly and very soon. It occasionally
fell to my lot to pilot him home--no sinecure, for he was so tipsy
that I was obliged to put on his cocked hat for him. To be sure, it
tumbled off again, and I was not myself so sober as to be able to pick
it up again.
"The last time I met him was, I think, at Sir Gilbert Elliot's, where
he was as quick as ever--no, it was not the last time; the last time
was at Douglas Kinnaird's. I have met him in all places and
parties--at Whitehall with the Melbournes, at the Marquis of
Tavistock's, at Robins's the auctioneer's, at Sir Humphry Davy's, at
Sam Rogers's,--in short, in most kinds of company, and always found
him very convivial and delightful.
"I have seen Sheridan weep two or three times. It may be that he was
maudlin; but this only renders it more impressive, for who would see
'From Marlborough's eyes the tears of dotage flow,
And Swift expire a driveller and a show'?
"Once I saw him cry at Robins's the auctioneer's, after a splendid
dinner, full of great names and high spirits. I had the honour of
sitting next to Sheridan. The occasion of his tears was some
observation or other upon the subject of the sturdiness of the Whigs
in resisting office and keeping to their principles: Sheridan turned
round: 'Sir, it is easy for my Lord G. or Earl G. or Marquis B. or
Lord H. with thousands upon thousands a year, some of it either
'presently' derived, or 'inherited' in sinecure or acquisitions from
the public money, to boast of their patriotism and keep aloof from
temptation; but they do not know from what temptation those have kept
aloof who had equal pride, at least equal talents, and not unequal
passions, and nevertheless knew not in the course of their lives what
it was to have a shilling of their own.' And in saying this he wept.
"There was something odd about Sheridan. One day, at dinner, he was
slightly praising that pert pretender and impostor, Lyttelton (the
Parliamentary puppy, still alive, I believe). I took the liberty of
differing from him; he turned round upon me, and said, 'Is that your
real opinion?' I confirmed it. Then said he, 'Fortified by this
concurrence, I beg leave to say that it, in fact, is 'my' opinion
also, and that he is a person whom I do absolutely and utterly
despise, abhor, and detest.' He then launched out into a description
of his despicable qualities, at some length, and with his usual wit,
and evidently in earnest (for he hated Lyttelton). His former
compliment had been drawn out by some preceding one, just as its
reverse was by my hinting that it was unmerited.
"I have more than once heard him say, 'that he never had a shilling of
his own.' To be sure, he contrived to extract a good many of other
people's.
"In 1815 I had occasion to visit my lawyer in Chancery Lane; he was
with Sheridan. After mutual greetings, etc., Sheridan retired first.
Before recurring to my own business, I could not help inquiring 'that'
of Sheridan. 'Oh,' replied the attorney, 'the usual thing! to stave
off an action from his wine-merchant, my client.'--'Well,' said I,
'and what do you mean to do?'--'Nothing at all for the present,' said
he: 'would you have us proceed against old Sherry? what would be the
use of it?' and here he began laughing, and going over Sheridan's good
gifts of conversation.
"Now, from personal experience, I can vouch that my attorney is by no
means the tenderest of men, or particularly accessible to any kind of
impression out of the statute or record; and yet Sheridan, in half an
hour, had found the way to soften and seduce him in such a manner,
that I almost think he would have thrown his client (an honest man,
with all the laws, and some justice, on his side) out of the window,
had he come in at the moment.
"Such was Sheridan! he could soften an attorney! There has been
nothing like it since the days of Orpheus.
"One day I saw him take up his own ''Monody on Garrick'.' He lighted
upon the Dedication to the Dowager Lady Spencer. On seeing it, he flew
into a rage, and exclaimed 'that it must be a forgery, that he had
never dedicated any thing of his to such a damned canting bitch,'
etc., etc.--and so went on for half an hour abusing his own
dedication, or at least the object of it. If all writers were equally
sincere, it would be ludicrous.
"He told me that, on the night of the grand success of his 'School for
Scandal' he was knocked down and put into the watch-house for making a
row in the street, and being found intoxicated by the watchmen.
Latterly, when found drunk one night in the kennel, and asked his name
by the watchmen, he answered, 'Wilberforce.'
"When dying he was requested to undergo 'an operation.' He replied
that he had already submitted to two, which were enough for one man's
lifetime. Being asked what they were, he answered, 'having his hair
cut, and sitting for his picture."
"I have met George Colman occasionally, and thought him extremely
pleasant and convivial. Sheridan's humour, or rather wit, was always
saturnine, and sometimes savage; he never laughed (at least that 'I'
saw, and I watched him), but Colman did. If I had to 'choose' and
could not have both at a time I should say, 'Let me begin the evening
with Sheridan, and finish it with Colman.' Sheridan for dinner, Colman
for supper; Sheridan for claret or port but Colman for every thing,
from the madeira and champagne at dinner the claret with a 'layer' of
'port' between the glasses up to the punch of the night, and down to
the grog, or gin and water, of daybreak;--all these I have threaded
with both the same. Sheridan was a grenadier company of life guards,
but Colman a whole regiment--of 'light infantry', to be sure, but
still a regiment."]
[Footnote 2:
"Potations pottle deep"
'Othello', act ii. sc. 3, line 54.]
* * * * *
317.--To John Murray.
July 31, 1813.
Dear Sir--As I leave town early tomorrow, the proof must be sent
to-night, or many days will be lost. If you have any _reviews_ of the
'Giaour' to send, let me have them now. I am not very well to day. I
thank you for the 'Satirist', which is short but savage on this unlucky
affair, and _personally_ facetious on me which is much more to the
purpose than a tirade upon other peoples' concerns [1].
Ever yours,
B.
[Footnote 1: In the 'Satirist' (vol. xiii. pp. 150, 151) is an article
headed "Scandalum Magnatum," with the motto from 'Rejected Addresses':
With horn-handled knife,
To kill a tender lamb as dead as mutton."
"A short time back (say the newspapers, and newspapers never say 'the
thing which is not') Lady H. gave a ball and supper. Among the company
were Lord B--n, Lady W--, and Lady C. L--b. Lord B., it would appear,
is a favourite with the latter Lady; on this occasion, however, he
seemed to lavish his attention on another fair object. This preference
so enraged Lady C. L. that in a paroxysm of jealousy she took up a
dessert-knife and stabbed herself. The gay circle was, of course,
immediately plunged in confusion and dismay, which however, was soon
succeeded by levity and scandal. The general cry for medical
assistance was from Lady W--d: Lady W--d!!! And why? Because it was
said that, early after her marriage, Lady W--also took a similar
liberty with her person for a similar cause, and was therefore
considered to have learned from experience the most efficacious remedy
for the complaint. It was also whispered that the Lady's husband had
most to grieve, that the attempt had not fully succeeded. Lady C. L.
is still living.
"The poet has told us how 'Ladies wish to be who love their Lords;'
but this is the first public demonstration in our times to show us how
Ladies wish to be who love, not their own, but others' Lords. 'Better
be with the dead than thus,' cried the jealous fair; and, casting a
languishing look at Lord B--, who, Heaven knows, is more like Pan than
Apollo, she whipt up as pretty a little dessert-knife as a Lady could
desire to commit suicide with,
'And stuck it in her wizzard.'
"The desperate Lady was carried out of the room, and the affair
endeavoured to be hushed up, etc., etc." ]
* * * * *
318.--To John Wilson Croker [1].
Bt. Str., August 2, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I was honoured with your unexpected and very obliging letter,
when on the point of leaving London, which prevented me from
acknowledging my obligation as quickly as I felt it sincerely. I am
endeavouring all in my power to be ready before Saturday--and even if I
should not succeed, I can only blame my own tardiness, which will not
the less enhance the benefit I have lost. I have only to add my hope of
forgiveness for all my trespasses on your time and patience, and with my
best wishes for your public and private welfare, I have the honour to
be, most truly, Your obliged and most obedient servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: J. W. Croker (1780-1857),--the "Wenham" of Thackeray, the
"Rigby" of Disraeli, and the "Con Crawley" of Lady Morgan's 'Florence
Macarthy', had been made Secretary to the Admiralty in 1809. At his
request Captain Carlton of the 'Boyne', "just then ordered to re-enforce
Sir Edward Pellew" in the Mediterranean, had consented to receive Byron
into his cabin for the voyage,]
* * * * *
319.--To John Murray.
If you send more proofs, I shall never finish this infernal
story--"_Ecce signum_"--thirty-three more lines enclosed! to the utter
discomfiture of the printer, and, I fear, not to your advantage.
B.
* * * * *
320.--To John Murray.
Half-past two in the morning, Aug. 10, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Pray suspend the _proofs_, for I am _bitten_ again, and have
_quantities_ for other parts of the bravura. Yours ever,
B.
P. S.--You shall have them in the course of the day.
* * * * *
321.--To James Wedderburn Webster.
August 12, 1813.
My Dear Webster,--I am, you know, a detestable correspondent, and write
to no one person whatever; you therefore cannot attribute my silence to
any thing but want of good breeding or good taste, and not to any more
atrocious cause; and as I confess the fault to be entirely
mine--why--you will pardon it.
I have ordered a copy of the 'Giaour' (which is nearly doubled in
quantity in this edition) to be sent, and I will first scribble my name
in the title page. Many and sincere thanks for your good opinion of
book, and (I hope to add) author.
Rushton shall attend you whenever you please, though I should like him
to stay a few weeks, and help my other people in forwarding my chattels.
Your taking him is no less a favor to me than him; and I trust he will
behave well. If not, your remedy is very simple; only don't let him be
idle; honest I am sure he is, and I believe good-hearted and quiet. No
pains has been spared, and a good deal of expense incurred in his
education; accounts and mensuration, etc., he ought to know, and I
believe he does.
I write this near London, but your answer will reach me better in Bennet
Street, etc. (as before). I am going very soon, and if you would do the
same thing--as far as Sicily--I am sure you would not be sorry. My
sister, Mrs. L. goes with me--her spouse is obliged to retrench for a
few years (but _he_ stays at home); so that his _link boy_ prophecy (if
ever he made it) recoils upon himself.
I am truly glad to hear of Lady Frances's good health. Have you added to
your family? Pray make my best respects acceptable to her Ladyship.
Nothing will give me more pleasure than to hear from you as soon and as
fully as you please. Ever most truly yours,
BYRON.
* * * * *
322.--To Thomas Moore.
Bennet Street, August 22, 1813.
As our late--I might say, deceased--correspondence had too much of the
town-life leaven in it, we will now, _paulo majora_, prattle a little of
literature in all its branches; and first of the first--criticism. The
Prince is at Brighton, and Jackson, the boxer, gone to Margate, having,
I believe, decoyed Yarmouth to see a milling in that polite
neighbourhood [1].
Mad'e. de Stael Holstein has lost one of her young barons [2], who has
been carbonadoed by a vile Teutonic adjutant,--kilt and killed in a
coffee-house at Scrawsenhawsen. Corinne is, of course, what all mothers
must be,--but will, I venture to prophesy, do what few mothers
could--write an Essay upon it. She cannot exist without a grievance--and
somebody to see, or read, how much grief becomes her. I have not seen
her since the event; but merely judge (not very charitably) from prior
observation.
In a "mail-coach copy" of the _Edinburgh_ [3] I perceive _The Giaour_ is
second article. The numbers are still in the Leith smack--_pray which
way is the wind?_ The said article is so very mild and sentimental, that
it must be written by Jeffrey _in love_ [4];--you know he is gone to
America to marry some fair one, of whom he has been, for several
_quarters, eperdument amoureux_. Seriously--as Winifred Jenkins [5]
says of Lismahago--Mr. Jeffrey (or his deputy) "has done the handsome
thing by me," and I say _nothing_. But this I will say, if you and I had
knocked one another on the head in this quarrel, how he would have
laughed, and what a mighty bad figure we should have cut in our
posthumous works. By the by, I was call'd _in_ the other day to mediate
between two gentlemen bent upon carnage, and--after a long struggle
between the natural desire of destroying one's fellow-creatures, and the
dislike of seeing men play the fool for nothing,--I got one to make an
apology, and the other to take it, and left them to live happy ever
after [6].
One was a peer, the other a friend untitled, and both fond of high
play;--and one, I can swear for, though very mild, "not fearful," and so
dead a shot, that, though the other is the thinnest of men, he would
have split him like a cane. They both conducted themselves very well,
and I put them out of _pain_ as soon as I could.
There is an American _Life_ of G. F. Cooke [7], _Scurra_ deceased,
lately published. Such a book!--I believe, since _Drunken Barnaby's
Journal_ [8] nothing like it has drenched the press. All green-room and
tap-room--drams and the drama--brandy, whisky-punch, and, _latterly_,
toddy, overflow every page. Two things are rather marvellous,--first,
that a man should live so long drunk, and, next, that he should have
found a sober biographer. There are some very laughable