"Piccadilly, August 16. 1806.
"I cannot exactly say with Cæsar, 'Veni, vidi, vici:' however, the
most important part of his laconic account of success applies to my
present situation; for, though Mrs. Byron took the _trouble_ of
'_coming_,' and '_seeing_,' yet your humble servant proved the
_victor_. After an obstinate engagement of some hours, in which we
suffered considerable damage, from the quickness of the enemy's fire,
they at length retired in confusion, leaving behind the artillery,
field equipage, and some prisoners: their defeat is decisive for the
present campaign. To speak more intelligibly, Mrs. B. returns
immediately, but I proceed, with all my laurels, to Worthing, on the
Sussex coast; to which place you will address (to be left at the post
office) your next epistle. By the enclosure of a second _gingle_ of
_rhyme_, you will probably conceive my muse to be _vastly prolific_;
her inserted production was brought forth a few years ago, and found
by accident on Thursday among some old papers. I have recopied it,
and, adding the proper date, request it may be printed with the rest
of the family. I thought your sentiments on the last bantling would
coincide with mine, but it was impossible to give it any other garb,
being founded on _facts_. My stay at Worthing will not exceed three
weeks, and you may _possibly_ behold me again at Southwell the middle
of September.
* * * * *
"Will you desire Ridge to suspend the printing of my poems till he
hears further from me, as I have determined to give them a new form
entirely. This prohibition does not extend to the two last pieces I
have sent with my letters to you. You will excuse the _dull vanity_ of
this epistle, as my brain is a _chaos_ of absurd images, and full of
business, preparations, and projects.
"I shall expect an answer with impatience;--believe me, there is
nothing at this moment could give me greater delight than your
letter."