"Dear Mother,
"Mr. Hobhouse, who will forward or deliver this and is on his return
to England, can inform you of our different movements, but I am very
uncertain as to my own return. He will probably be down in Notts, some
time or other; but Fletcher, whom I send back as an incumbrance
(English servants are sad travellers), will supply his place in the
interim, and describe our travels, which have been tolerably
extensive.
"I remember Mahmout Pacha, the grandson of Ali Pacha, at Yanina, (a
little fellow of ten years of age, with large black eyes, which our
ladies would purchase at any price, and those regular features which
distinguish the Turks,) asked me how I came to travel so young,
without anybody to take care of me. This question was put by the
little man with all the gravity of threescore. I cannot now write
copiously; I have only time to tell you that I have passed many a
fatiguing, but never a tedious moment; and all that I am afraid of is
that I shall contract a gipsylike wandering disposition, which will
make home tiresome to me: this, I am told, is very common with men in
the habit of peregrination, and, indeed, I feel it so. On the third of
May I swam from _Sestos_ to _Abydos_. You know the story of Leander,
but I had no _Hero_ to receive me at landing.
"I have been in all the principal mosques by the virtue of a firman:
this is a favour rarely permitted to infidels, but the ambassador's
departure obtained it for us. I have been up the Bosphorus into the
Black Sea, round the walls of the city, and, indeed, I know more of it
by sight than I do of London. I hope to amuse you some winter's
evening with the details, but at present you must excuse me;--I am not
able to write long letters in June. I return to spend my summer in
Greece.
"F. is a poor creature, and requires comforts that I can dispense
with. He is very sick of his travels, but you must not believe his
account of the country. He sighs for ale, and idleness, and a wife,
and the devil knows what besides. I have not been disappointed or
disgusted. I have lived with the highest and the lowest. I have been
for days in a Pacha's palace, and have passed many a night in a
cowhouse, and I find the people inoffensive and kind. I have also
passed some time with the principal Greeks in the Morea and Livadia,
and, though inferior to the Turks, they are better than the Spaniards,
who, in their turn, excel the Portuguese. Of Constantinople you will
find many descriptions in different travels; but Lady Wortley errs
strangely when she says, 'St. Paul's would cut a strange figure by St.
Sophia's.' I have been in both, surveyed them inside and out
attentively. St. Sophia's is undoubtedly the most interesting from its
immense antiquity, and the circumstance of all the Greek emperors,
from Justinian, having been crowned there, and several murdered at the
altar, besides the Turkish sultans who attend it regularly. But it is
inferior in beauty and size to some of the mosques, particularly
'Soleyman,' &c., and not to be mentioned in the same page with St.
Paul's (I speak like a _Cockney_). However, I prefer the Gothic
cathedral of Seville to St. Paul's, St. Sophia's, and any religious
building I have ever seen.
"The walls of the Seraglio are like the walls of Newstead gardens,
only higher, and much in the same order; but the ride by the walls of
the city, on the land side, is beautiful. Imagine four miles of
immense triple battlements, covered with ivy, surmounted with 218
towers, and, on the other side of the road, Turkish burying-grounds
(the loveliest spots on earth), full of enormous cypresses. I have
seen the ruins of Athens, of Ephesus, and Delphi. I have traversed
great part of Turkey, and many other parts of Europe, and some of
Asia; but I never beheld a work of nature or art which yielded an
impression like the prospect on each side from the Seven Towers to the
end of the Golden Horn.
"Now for England. I am glad to hear of the progress of 'English
Bards,' &c.;--of course, you observed I have made great additions to
the new edition. Have you received my picture from Sanders, Vigo Lane,
London? It was finished and paid for long before I left England: pray,
send for it. You seem to be a mighty reader of magazines: where do you
pick up all this intelligence, quotations, &c. &c.? Though I was happy
to obtain my seat without the assistance of Lord Carlisle, I had no
measures to keep with a man who declined interfering as my relation on
that occasion, and I have done with him, though I regret distressing
Mrs. Leigh, poor thing!--I hope she is happy.
"It is my opinion that Mr. B---- ought to marry Miss R----. Our first
duty is not to do evil; but, alas! that is impossible: our next is to
repair it, if in our power. The girl is his equal: if she were his
inferior, a sum of money and provision for the child would be some,
though a poor, compensation: as it is, he should marry her. I will
have no gay deceivers on my estate, and I shall not allow my tenants a
privilege I do not permit myself--_that_ of debauching each other's
daughters. God knows, I have been guilty of many excesses; but, as I
have laid down a resolution to reform, and lately kept it, I expect
this Lothario to follow the example, and begin by restoring this girl
to society, or, by the beard of my father! he shall hear of it. Pray
take some notice of Robert, who will miss his master: poor boy, he was
very unwilling to return. I trust you are well and happy. It will be a
pleasure to hear from you.
Believe me yours very sincerely,
"BYRON.
"P.S.--How is Joe Murray?
"P.S.--I open my letter again to tell you that Fletcher having
petitioned to accompany me into the Morea, I have taken him with me,
contrary to the intention expressed in my letter."
The reader has not, I trust, passed carelessly over the latter part of
this letter. There is a healthfulness in the moral feeling so
unaffectedly expressed in it, which seems to answer for a heart sound
at the core, however passion might have scorched it. Some years after,
when he had become more confirmed in that artificial tone of banter,
in which it was, unluckily, his habit to speak of his own good
feelings, as well as those of others, however capable he might still
have been of the same amiable sentiments, I question much whether the
perverse fear of being thought desirous to pass for moral would not
have prevented him from thus naturally and honestly avowing them.
The following extract from a communication addressed to a
distinguished monthly work, by a traveller who, at this period,
happened to meet with Lord Byron at Constantinople, bears sufficiently
the features of authenticity to be presented, without hesitation, to
my readers.
"We were interrupted in our debate by the entrance of a stranger,
whom, on the first glance, I guessed to be an Englishman, but lately
arrived at Constantinople. He wore a scarlet coat, richly embroidered
with gold, in the style of an English aide-de-camp's dress uniform,
with two heavy epaulettes. His countenance announced him to be about
the age of two-and-twenty. His features were remarkably delicate, and
would have given him a feminine appearance, but for the manly
expression of his fine blue eyes. On entering the inner shop, he took
off his feathered cocked-hat, and showed a head of curly auburn hair,
which improved in no small degree the uncommon beauty of his face. The
impression which his whole appearance made upon my mind was such, that
it has ever since remained deeply engraven on it; and although fifteen
years have since gone by, the lapse of time has not in the slightest
degree impaired the freshness of the recollection. He was attended by
a Janissary attached to the English embassy, and by a person who
professionally acted as a Cicerone to strangers. These circumstances,
together with a very visible lameness in one of his legs, convinced me
at once he was Lord Byron. I had already heard of his Lordship, and of
his late arrival in the Salsette frigate, which had come up from the
Smyrna station, to fetch away Mr. Adair, our ambassador to the Porte.
Lord Byron had been previously travelling in Epirus and Asia Minor,
with his friend Mr. Hobhouse, and had become a great amateur of
smoking: he was conducted to this shop for the purpose of purchasing a
few pipes. The indifferent Italian, in which language he spoke to his
Cicerone, and the latter's still more imperfect Turkish, made it
difficult for the shopkeeper to understand their wishes, and as this
seemed to vex the stranger, I addressed him in English, offering to
interpret for him. When his Lordship thus discovered me to be an
Englishman, he shook me cordially by the hand, and assured me, with
some warmth in his manner, that he always felt great pleasure when he
met with a countryman abroad. His purchase and my bargain being
completed, we walked out together, and rambled about the streets, in
several of which I had the pleasure of directing his attention to some
of the most remarkable curiosities in Constantinople. The peculiar
circumstances under which our acquaintance took place, established
between us, in one day, a certain degree of intimacy, which two or
three years' frequenting each other's company in England would most
likely not have accomplished. I frequently addressed him by his name,
but he did not think of enquiring how I came to learn it, nor of
asking mine. His Lordship had not yet laid the foundation of that
literary renown which he afterwards acquired; on the contrary, he was
only known as the author of his Hours of Idleness; and the severity
with which the Edinburgh Reviewers had criticised that production was
still fresh in every English reader's recollection. I could not,
therefore, be supposed to seek his acquaintance from any of those
motives of vanity which have actuated so many others since: but it was
natural that, after our accidental rencontre, and all that passed
between us on that occasion, I should, on meeting him in the course of
the same week at dinner at the English ambassador's, have requested
one of the secretaries, who was intimately acquainted with him, to
introduce me to him in regular form. His Lordship testified his
perfect recollection of me, but in the coldest manner, and immediately
after turned his back on me. This unceremonious proceeding, forming a
striking contrast with previous occurrences, had something so strange
in it, that I was at a loss how to account for it, and felt at the
same time much disposed to entertain a less favourable opinion of his
Lordship than his apparent frankness had inspired me with at our first
meeting. It was not, therefore, without surprise, that, some days
after, I saw him in the streets, coming up to me with a smile of good
nature in his countenance. He accosted me in a familiar manner, and,
offering me his hand, said,--'I am an enemy to English etiquette,
especially out of England; and I always make my own acquaintance
without waiting for the formality of an introduction. If you have
nothing to do, and are disposed for another ramble, I shall be glad of
your company.' There was that irresistible attraction in his manner,
of which those who have had the good fortune to be admitted into his
intimacy can alone have felt the power in his moments of good humour;
and I readily accepted his proposal. We visited again more of the most
remarkable curiosities of the capital, a description of which would
here be but a repetition of what a hundred travellers have already
detailed with the utmost minuteness and accuracy; but his Lordship
expressed much disappointment at their want of interest. He praised
the picturesque beauties of the town itself, and its surrounding
scenery; and seemed of opinion that nothing else was worth looking at.
He spoke of the Turks in a manner which might have given reason to
suppose that he had made a long residence among them, and closed his
observations with these words:--'The Greeks will, sooner or later,
rise against them; but if they do not make haste, I hope Buonaparte
will come, and drive the useless rascals away.'"[139]
During his stay at Constantinople, the English minister, Mr. Adair,
being indisposed the greater part of the time, had but few
opportunities of seeing him. He, however, pressed him, with much
hospitality, to accept a lodging at the English palace, which Lord
Byron, preferring the freedom of his homely inn, declined. At the
audience granted to the ambassador, on his taking leave, by the
Sultan, the noble poet attended in the train of Mr. Adair,--having
shown an anxiety as to the place he was to hold in the procession, not
a little characteristic of his jealous pride of rank. In vain had the
minister assured him that no particular station could be allotted to
him;--that the Turks, in their arrangements for the ceremonial,
considered only the persons connected with the embassy, and neither
attended to, nor acknowledged, the precedence which our forms assign
to nobility. Seeing the young peer still unconvinced by these
representations, Mr. Adair was, at length, obliged to refer him to an
authority, considered infallible on such points of etiquette, the old
Austrian Internuncio;--on consulting whom, and finding his opinions
agree fully with those of the English minister, Lord Byron declared
himself perfectly satisfied.
On the 14th of July his fellow-traveller and himself took their
departure from Constantinople on board the Salsette frigate,--Mr.
Hobhouse with the intention of accompanying the ambassador to England,
and Lord Byron with the resolution of visiting his beloved Greece
again. To Mr. Adair he appeared, at this time, (and I find that Mr.
Bruce, who met him afterwards at Athens, conceived the same impression
of him,) to be labouring under great dejection of spirits. One
circumstance related to me, as having occurred in the course of the
passage, is not a little striking. Perceiving, as he walked the deck,
a small yataghan, or Turkish dagger, on one of the benches, he took
it up, unsheathed it, and, having stood for a few moments
contemplating the blade, was heard to say, in an under voice, "I
should like to know how a person feels after committing a murder!" In
this startling speech we may detect, I think, the germ of his future
Giaours and Laras. This intense _wish_ to explore the dark workings of
the passions was what, with the aid of imagination, at length
generated the _power_; and that faculty which entitled him afterwards
to be so truly styled "the searcher of dark bosoms," may be traced to,
perhaps, its earliest stirrings in the sort of feeling that produced
these words.
On their approaching the island of Zea, he expressed a wish to be put
on shore. Accordingly, having taken leave of his companions, he was
landed upon this small island, with two Albanians, a Tartar, and one
English servant; and in one of his manuscripts he has himself
described the proud, solitary feeling with which he stood to see the
ship sail swiftly away--leaving him there, in a land of strangers
alone.
A few days after, he addressed the following letters to Mrs. Byron
from Athens.