"8. St. James's Street, March 6. 1809.
"Dear Mother,
"My last letter was written under great depression of spirits from
poor Falkland's death, who has left without a shilling four children
and his wife. I have been endeavouring to assist them, which, God
knows, I cannot do as I could wish, from my own embarrassments and
the many claims upon me from other quarters.
"What you say is all very true: come what may, _Newstead_ and I
_stand_ or fall together. I have now lived on the spot, I have fixed
my heart upon it, and no pressure, present or future, shall induce me
to barter the last vestige of our inheritance. I have that pride
within me which will enable me to support difficulties. I can endure
privations; but could I obtain in exchange for Newstead Abbey the
first fortune in the country I would reject the proposition. Set your
mind at ease on that score; Mr. H---- talks like a man of business on
the subject,--I feel like a man of honour, and I will not sell
Newstead.
"I shall get my seat on the return of the affidavits from Carhais, in
Cornwall, and will do something in the House soon: I must dash, or it
is all over. My Satire must be kept secret for a month; after that you
may say what you please on the subject. Lord C. has used me
infamously, and refused to state any particulars of my family to the
Chancellor. I have _lashed_ him in my rhymes, and perhaps his Lordship
may regret not being more conciliatory. They tell me it will have a
sale; I hope so, for the bookseller has behaved well, as far as
publishing well goes.
"Believe me, &c.
"P.S.--You shall have a mortgage on one of the farms."
The affidavits which he here mentions, as expected from Cornwall, were
those required in proof of the marriage of Admiral Byron with Miss
Trevanion, the solemnisation of which having taken place, as it
appears, in a private chapel at Carhais, no regular certificate of the
ceremony could be produced. The delay in procuring other evidence,
coupled with the refusal of Lord Carlisle to afford any explanations
respecting his family, interposed those difficulties which he alludes
to in the way of his taking his seat. At length, all the necessary
proofs having been obtained, he, on the 13th of March, presented
himself in the House of Lords, in a state more lone and unfriended,
perhaps, than any youth of his high station had ever before been
reduced to on such an occasion,--not having a single individual of his
own class either to take him by the hand as friend or acknowledge him
as acquaintance. To chance alone was he even indebted for being
accompanied as far as the bar of the House by a very distant relative,
who had been, little more than a year before, an utter stranger to
him. This relative was Mr. Dallas; and the account which he has given
of the whole scene is too striking in all its details to be related in
any other words than his own:--
"The Satire was published about the middle of March, previous to which
he took his seat in the House of Lords, on the 13th of the same month.
On that day, passing down St. James's Street, but with no intention of
calling, I saw his chariot at his door, and went in. His countenance,
paler than usual, showed that his mind was agitated, and that he was
thinking of the nobleman to whom he had once looked for a hand and
countenance in his introduction to the House. He said to me--'I am
glad you happened to come in; I am going to take my seat, perhaps you
will go with me.' I expressed my readiness to attend him; while, at
the same time, I concealed the shock I felt on thinking that this
young man, who, by birth, fortune, and talent, stood high in life,
should have lived so unconnected and neglected by persons of his own
rank, that there was not a single member of the senate to which he
belonged, to whom he could or would apply to introduce him in a manner
becoming his birth. I saw that he felt the situation, and I fully
partook his indignation.
"After some talk about the Satire, the last sheets of which were in
the press, I accompanied Lord Byron to the House. He was received in
one of the ante-chambers by some of the officers in attendance, with
whom he settled respecting the fees he had to pay. One of them went to
apprise the Lord Chancellor of his being there, and soon returned for
him. There were very few persons in the House. Lord Eldon was going
through some ordinary business. When Lord Byron entered, I thought he
looked still paler than before; and he certainly wore a countenance in
which mortification was mingled with, but subdued by, indignation. He
passed the woolsack without looking round, and advanced to the table
where the proper officer was attending to administer the oaths. When
he had gone through them, the Chancellor quitted his seat, and went
towards him with a smile, putting out his hand warmly to welcome him;
and, though I did not catch his words, I saw that he paid him some
compliment. This was all thrown away upon Lord Byron, who made a stiff
bow, and put the tips of his fingers into the Chancellor's hand. The
Chancellor did not press a welcome so received, but resumed his seat;
while Lord Byron carelessly seated himself for a few minutes on one of
the empty benches to the left of the throne, usually occupied by the
lords in opposition. When, on his joining me, I expressed what I had
felt, he said--'If I had shaken hands heartily, he would have set me
down for one of his party--but I will have nothing to do with any of
them, on either side; I have taken my seat, and now I will go abroad.'
We returned to St. James's Street, but he did not recover his
spirits."
To this account of a ceremonial so trying to the proud spirit engaged
in it, and so little likely to abate the bitter feeling of misanthropy
now growing upon him, I am enabled to add, from his own report in one
of his note-books, the particulars of the short conversation which he
held with the Lord Chancellor on the occasion:--
"When I came of age, some delays, on account of some birth and
marriage certificates from Cornwall, occasioned me not to take my seat
for several weeks. When these were over, and I had taken the oaths,
the Chancellor apologised to me for the delay, observing 'that these
forms were a part of his _duty_.' I begged him to make no apology, and
added (as he certainly had shown no violent hurry), 'Your Lordship was
exactly like Tom Thumb' (which was then being acted)--'you did your
_duty_, and you did _no more_.'"
In a few days after, the Satire made its appearance; and one of the
first copies was sent, with the following letter, to his friend Mr.
Harness.