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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 versâ', 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 £1000. 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, £1000, 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 £2000 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 Göttingen.' 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] 'protégé' 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 ... quæris 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 theòs agapáei apothnáeskei néos.] [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.
........
........
Quæris, quo jaceas post obitum loco?
Quo non nata jacent."]
[Footnote 3: The sentiment is found in one of the [Greek: monóstichoi]
of Menander ('Menandri et Philemonis reliquiæ,' edidit Augustus Meineke,
p. 48). It is thus quoted by Stobæus ('Florilegium', cxx. 8) as an
iambic:
[Greek: Hon oi theoì philoûsin apothnáeskei néos.]
In the 'Comicorum Græcorum Sententiæ, id est' [Greek: gnômai](p. 219,
ed, Henricus Stephanus, MDLXIX.) it is quoted as a leonine verse:
[Greek: Hon gàr philei theòs apothnáeskei néos.]
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 Européens les ont appelés 'talapoins', probablement du nom de
l'éventail qu'ils tiennent à la main, lequel s'appelle 'talapat', qui
signifie 'feuille de palmier'."
Possibly Byron knew the word through Voltaire ('Dial.' xxii., 'André des
Couches à Siam');
"'A. des C.': Combien avez-vous de soldats?
'Croutef.': Quatre-vingt mille, fort médiocrement payés.
'A. des C.': Et de talapoins?
'Cr.': Cent vingt-mille, tous fainéans et trés 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 'Æneid' 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, 'née'
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 'Horæ Ionicæ' (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 à Candide; Tous les événements sont
enchainés 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 espèce de livre, dont on n'a lu que la première
page quand on n'a vu que son pays. J'en ai feuilleté un assez grand
nombre, que j'ai trouvé également mauvaises. Cet examen ne m'a point
été infructueux. Je haïssais ma patrie. Toutes les impertinences des
peuples divers, parmi lesquels j'ai vécu, m'ont réconcilié avec elle.
Quand je n'aurais tiré d'autre bénéfice de mes voyages que celui-là,
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 Péronne, served in the 'Gardes
du Corps', but abandoned the sword for the pen, and published 'Henriade
Travestie' (1745); 'Préservatif Centre l'Anglomanie' (1787); and 'Le
Cosmopolite' (1750). His novels, 'Margot la Ravaudeuse, Thérlsé
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
Rôt-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
Bibliopolâ'' 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
Atticæ'. 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 Atticæ"?
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. 'Væ 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 ('née' 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
'tête-à-tête' 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 o£ 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 hydôr] 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 'poetæ')
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 s¾pe 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, Geneviève-Magdaleine
Wattebled, widow of the sieur Lévêque. 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 Goëzman, with which began the publication of his
'Mémoires'. (See Loménie, '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 £500 upon delivery
of the MS.; the two following £500 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 £3000, 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 £3000 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 'tête-à-tête',
is one of the most agreeable companions. He has great originality,
and, being 'très distrait', it adds to the piquancy of his
observations, which are sometimes somewhat 'trop naïve', though always
amusing. This 'naïveté' 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 Grüter ('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 ('née' 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 quæ 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."]
* * * * *