"Dear Friend,
"The sight of your handwriting gave me the greatest pleasure. Greece
has ever been for me, as it must be for all men of any feeling or
education, the promised land of valour, of the arts, and of liberty;
nor did the time I passed in my youth in travelling among her ruins
at all chill my affection for the birthplace of heroes. In addition
to this, I am bound to yourself by ties of friendship and gratitude
for the hospitality which I experienced from you during my stay in
that country, of which you are now become one of the first defenders
and ornaments. To see myself serving, by your side and under your
eyes, in the cause of Greece, will be to me one of the happiest
events of my life. In the mean time, with the hope of our again
meeting,
"I am, as ever," &c.
Among the less serious embarrassments of his position at this period,
may be mentioned the struggle maintained against him by his
colleague, Colonel Stanhope,--with a degree of conscientious
perseverance which, even while thwarted by it, he could not but
respect, on the subject of a Free Press, which it was one of the
favourite objects of his fellow-agent to bring instantly into
operation in all parts of Greece. On this important point their
opinions differed considerably; and the following report, by Colonel
Stanhope, of one of their many conversations on the subject, may be
taken as a fair and concise statement of their respective
views:--"Lord Byron said that he was an ardent friend of publicity
and the press: but that he feared it was not applicable to this
society in its present combustible state. I answered that I thought
it applicable to all countries, and essential here, in order to put
an end to the state of anarchy which at present prevailed. Lord B.
feared libels and licentiousness. I said that the object of a free
press was to check public licentiousness, and to expose libellers to
odium. Lord B. had mentioned his conversation with Mavrocordato[1] to
show that the Prince was not hostile to the press. I declared that I
knew him to be an enemy to the press, although he dared not openly to
avow it. His Lordship then said that he had not made up his mind
about the liberty of the press in Greece, but that he thought the
experiment worth trying."
[Footnote 1: Lord Byron had, it seems, acknowledged, on the preceding
evening, his having remarked to Prince Blavrocordato that "if he were
in his situation, he would have placed the press under a censor;" to
which the Prince had replied, "No; the liberty of the press is
guaranteed by the Constitution."]
That between two men, both eager in the service of one common cause,
there should arise a difference of opinion as to the _means_ of
serving it is but a natural result of the varieties of human
judgment, and detracts nothing from the zeal or sincerity of either.
But by those who do not suffer themselves to be carried away by a
theory, it will be conceded, I think, that the scruples professed by
Lord Byron, with respect to the expedience or safety of introducing
what is called a Free Press into a country so little advanced in
civilisation as Greece, were founded on just views of human nature
and practical good sense. To endeavour to force upon a state of
society, so unprepared for them, such full grown institutions; to
think of engrafting, at once, on an ignorant people the fruits of
long knowledge and cultivation,--of importing among them, ready made,
those advantages and blessings which no nation ever attained but by
its own working out, nor ever was fitted to enjoy but by having first
struggled for them; to harbour even a dream of the success of such an
experiment, implies a sanguineness almost incredible, and such as,
though, in the present instance, indulged by the political economist
and soldier, was, as we have seen, beyond the poet.
The enthusiastic and, in many respects, well founded confidence with
which Colonel Stanhope appealed to the authority of Mr. Bentham on
most of the points at issue between himself and Lord Byron, was, from
that natural antipathy which seems to exist between political
economists and poets, but little sympathised in by the latter;--such
appeals being always met by him with those sallies of ridicule, which
he found the best-humoured vent for his impatience under argument,
and to which, notwithstanding the venerable name and services of Mr.
Bentham himself, the quackery of much that is promulgated by his
followers presented, it must be owned, ample scope. Romantic, indeed,
as was Lord Byron's sacrifice of himself to the cause of Greece,
there was in the views he took of the means of serving her not a
tinge of the unsubstantial or speculative. The grand practical task
of freeing her from her tyrants was his first and main object. He
knew that slavery was the great bar to knowledge, and must be broken
through before her light could come; that the work of the sword must
therefore precede that of the pen, and camps be the first schools of
freedom.
With such sound and manly views of the true exigencies of the crisis,
it is not wonderful that he should view with impatience, and
something, perhaps, of contempt, all that premature apparatus of
printing-presses, pedagogues, &c. with which the Philhellenes of the
London Committee were, in their rage for "utilitarianism,"
encumbering him. Nor were some of the correspondents of this body
much more solid in their speculations than themselves; one
intelligent gentleman having suggested, as a means of conferring
signal advantages on the cause, an alteration of the Greek alphabet.
Though feeling, as strongly, perhaps, as Lord Byron, the importance
of the great object of their mission,--that of rousing and, what was
far more difficult, combining against the common foe the energies of
the country,--Colonel Stanhope was also one of those who thought that
the lights of their great master, Bentham, and the operations of a
press unrestrictedly free, were no less essential instruments towards
the advancement of the struggle; and in this opinion, as we have
seen, the poet and man of literature differed from the soldier. But
it was such a difference as, between men of frank and fair minds, may
arise without either reproach to themselves, or danger to their
cause,--a strife of opinion which; though maintained with heat, may
be remembered without bitterness, and which, in the present instance,
neither prevented Byron, at the close of one of their warmest
altercations, from exclaiming generously to his opponent, "Give me
that honest right hand," nor withheld the other from pouring forth,
at the grave of his colleague, a strain of eulogy[1] not the less
cordial for being discriminatingly shaded with censure, nor less
honourable to the illustrious dead for being the tribute of one who
had once manfully differed with him.
[Footnote 1: Sketch of Lord Byron.--See Colonel Stanhope's "Greece in
1823, 1824," &c.]
Towards the middle of February, the indefatigable activity of Mr.
Parry having brought the artillery brigade into such a state of
forwardness as to be almost ready for service, an inspection of the
Suliote corps took place, preparatory to the expedition; and after
much of the usual deception and unmanageableness on their part, every
obstacle appeared to be at length surmounted. It was agreed that they
should receive a month's pay in advance;--Count Gamba, with 300 of
their corps, as a vanguard, was to march next day and take up a
position under Lepanto, and Lord Byron with the main body and the
artillery was speedily to follow.
New difficulties, however, were soon started by these untractable
mercenaries; and under the instigation, as was discovered afterwards,
of the great rival of Mavrocordato, Colocotroni, who had sent
emissaries into Missolonghi for the purpose of seducing them, they
now put forward their exactions in a new shape, by requiring of the
Government to appoint, out of their number, two generals, two
colonels, two captains, and inferior officers in the same
proportion:--"in short," says Count Gamba, "that, out of three or
four hundred actual Suliotes, there should be about one hundred and
fifty above the rank of common soldiers." The audacious dishonesty of
this demand,--beyond what he could have expected even from
Greeks,--roused all Lord Byron's rage, and he at once signified to
the whole body, through Count Gamba, that all negotiation between
them and himself was at an end; that he could no longer have any
confidence in persons so little true to their engagements; and that
though the relief which he had afforded to their families should
still be continued, all his agreements with them, as a body, must be
thenceforward void.
It was on the 14th of February that this rupture with the Suliotes
took place; and though, on the following day, in consequence of the
full submission of their Chiefs, they were again received into his
Lordship's service on his own terms, the whole affair, combined with
the various other difficulties that now beset him, agitated his mind
considerably. He saw with pain that he should but place in peril both
the cause of Greece and his own character, by at all relying, in such
an enterprise, upon troops whom any intriguer could thus seduce from
their duty; and that, till some more regular force could be
organised, the expedition against Lepanto must be suspended.
While these vexatious events were occurring, the interruption of his
accustomed exercise by the rains but increased the irritability that
such delays were calculated to excite; and the whole together, no
doubt, concurred with whatever predisposing tendencies were already
in his constitution, to bring on that convulsive fit,--the forerunner
of his death,--which, on the evening of the 15th of February, seized
him. He was sitting, at about eight o'clock, with only Mr. Parry and
Mr. Hesketh, in the apartment of Colonel Stanhope,--talking jestingly
upon one of his favourite topics, the differences between himself and
this latter gentleman, and saying that "he believed, after all, the
author's brigade would be ready before the soldier's printing-press."
There was an unusual flush in his face, and from the rapid changes of
his countenance it was manifest that he was suffering under some
nervous agitation. He then complained of being thirsty, and, calling
for some cider, drank of it; upon which, a still greater change being
observable over his features, he rose from his seat, but was unable
to walk, and, after staggering forward a step or two, fell into Mr.
Parry's arms. In another minute, his teeth were closed, his speech
and senses gone, and he was in strong convulsions. So violent,
indeed, were his struggles, that it required all the strength both of
Mr. Parry and his servant Tita to hold him during the fit. His face,
too, was much distorted; and, as he told Count Gamba afterwards, "so
intense were his sufferings during the convulsion, that, had it
lasted but a minute longer, he believed he must have died." The fit
was, however, as short as it was violent; in a few minutes his speech
and senses returned; his features, though still pale and haggard,
resumed their natural shape, and no effect remained from the attack
but excessive weakness. "As soon as he could speak," says Count
Gamba, "he showed himself perfectly free from all alarm; but he very
coolly asked whether his attack was likely to prove fatal. 'Let me
know,' he said; 'do not think I am afraid to die--I am not.'"
This painful event had not occurred more than half an hour, when a
report was brought that the Suliotes were up in arms, and about to
attack the seraglio, for the purpose of seizing the magazines.
Instantly Lord Byron's friends ran to the arsenal; the artillery-men
were ordered under arms; the sentinels doubled, and the cannon loaded
and pointed on the approaches to the gates. Though the alarm proved
to be false, the very likelihood of such an attack shows sufficiently
how precarious was the state of Missolonghi at this moment, and in
what a scene of peril, confusion, and uncomfort, the now nearly
numbered days of England's poet were to close.
On the following morning he was found to be better, but still pale
and weak, and complained much of a sensation of weight in his head.
The doctors, therefore, thought it right to apply leeches to his
temples; but found it difficult, on their removal, to stop the blood,
which continued to flow so copiously, that from exhaustion he
fainted. It must have been on this day that the scene thus described
by Colonel Stanhope occurred:--
"Soon after his dreadful paroxysm, when, faint with over-bleeding, he
was lying on his sick bed, with his whole nervous system completely
shaken, the mutinous Suliotes, covered with dirt and splendid
attires, broke into his apartment, brandishing their costly arms, and
loudly demanding their wild rights. Lord Byron, electrified by this
unexpected act, seemed to recover from his sickness; and the more the
Suliotes raged, the more his calm courage triumphed. The scene was
truly sublime."
Another eye-witness, Count Gamba, bears similar testimony to the
presence of mind with which he fronted this and all other such
dangers. "It is impossible," says this gentleman, "to do justice to
the coolness and magnanimity which he displayed upon every trying
occasion. Upon trifling occasions he was certainly irritable; but the
aspect of danger calmed him in an instant, and restored to him the
free exercise of all the powers of his noble nature. A more undaunted
man in the hour of peril never breathed."
The letters written by him during the few following weeks form, as
usual, the best record of his proceedings, and, besides the sad
interest they possess as being among the latest from his hand, are
also precious, as affording proof that neither illness nor
disappointment, neither a worn-out frame nor even a hopeless spirit,
could lead him for a moment to think of abandoning the great cause he
had espoused; while to the last, too, he preserved unbroken the
cheerful spring of his mind, his manly endurance of all ills that
affected but himself, and his ever-wakeful consideration for the
wants of others.