[Footnote 1: Published in two volumes, 4to.]
[Footnote 2: It is almost unnecessary to apprise the reader that the
paragraph at the bottom of p. 222. vol. iv. was written _before_ the
appearance of this extraordinary paper.]
[Footnote 3: From p. 4. to 11. vol. v. inclusive.]
[Footnote 4: In p. 232. vol. iv. however, the reader will find it
alluded to, and in terms such as conduct so disinterested deserves.]
[Footnote 5: June 12, 1828.]
[Footnote 6: "In the park of Horseley," says Thoroton, "there was a
castle, some of the ruins whereof are yet visible, called Horestan
Castle, which was the chief mansion of his (Ralph de Burun's)
successors."]
[Footnote 7: The priory of Newstead had been founded and dedicated to
God and the Virgin, by Henry II.; and its monks, who were canons
regular of the order of St. Augustine, appear to have been peculiarly
the objects of royal favour, no less in spiritual than in temporal
concerns. During the lifetime of the fifth Lord Byron, there was found
in the lake at Newstead,--where it is supposed to have been thrown for
concealment by the monks,--a large brass eagle, in the body of which,
on its being sent to be cleaned, was discovered a secret aperture,
concealing within it a number of old legal papers connected with the
rights and privileges of the foundation. At the sale of the old lord's
effects in 1776-7, this eagle, together with three candelabra, found
at the same time, was purchased by a watch-maker of Nottingham (by
whom the concealed manuscripts were discovered), and having from his
hands passed into those of Sir Richard Kaye, a prebendary of
Southwell, forms at present a very remarkable ornament of the
cathedral of that place. A curious document, said to have been among
those found in the eagle, is now in the possession of Colonel Wildman,
containing a grant of full pardon from Henry V. of every possible
crime (and there is a tolerably long catalogue enumerated) which the
monks might have committed previous to the 8th of December
preceding:--"_Murdris_, per ipsos _post decimum nonum diem Novembris_,
ultimo præteritum perpetratis, si quæ fuerint, _exceptis_."]
[Footnote 8: The Earl of Shrewsbury.]
[Footnote 9: Afterwards Admiral.]
[Footnote 10: The following particulars respecting the amount of Mrs.
Byron's fortune before marriage, and its rapid disappearance
afterwards, are, I have every reason to think, from the authentic
source to which I am indebted for them, strictly correct:--
"At the time of the marriage, Miss Gordon was possessed of about 3000
_l._ in money, two shares of the Aberdeen Banking Company, the estates
of Gight and Monkshill, and the superiority of two salmon fishings on
Dee. Soon after the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Byron Gordon in Scotland,
it appeared that Mr. Byron had involved himself very deeply in debt,
and his creditors commenced legal proceedings for the recovery of
their money. The cash in hand was soon paid away,--the bank shares
were disposed of at 600 _l._ (now worth 5000 _l._)--timber on the estate
was cut down and sold to the amount of 1500_l._--the farm of Monkshill
and superiority of the fishings, affording a freehold qualification,
were disposed of at 480_l._; and, in addition to these sales, within a
year after the marriage, 8000_l._ was borrowed upon a mortgage on the
estate, granted by Mrs. Byron Gordon to the person who lent the money.
"In March, 1786, a contract of marriage in the Scotch form was drawn
up and signed by the parties. In the course of the summer of that
year, Mr. and Mrs. Byron left Gight, and never returned to it; the
estate being, in the following year, sold to Lord Haddo for the sum of
17,850_l._, the whole of which was applied to the payment of Mr.
Byron's debts, with the exception of 1122_l._, which remained as a
burden on the estate, (the interest to be applied to paying a jointure
of 55_l._ 11_s._ 1_d._ to Mrs. Byron's grandmother, the principal
reverting, at her death, to Mrs. Byron,) and 3000_l._ vested in
trustees for Mrs. Byron's separate use, which was lent to Mr.
Carsewell of Ratharllet, in Fifeshire."
"A strange occurrence," says another of my informants, "took place
previous to the sale of the lands. All the doves left the house of
Gight and came to Lord Haddo's, and so did a number of herons, which
had built their nests for many years in a wood on the banks of a large
loch, called the Hagberry Pot. When this was told to Lord Haddo, he
pertinently replied, 'Let the birds come, and do them no harm, for the
land will soon follow;' which it actually did."]
[Footnote 11: It appears that she several times changed her residence
during her stay at Aberdeen, as there are two other houses pointed
out, where she lodged for some time; one situated in Virginia Street,
and the other, the house of a Mr. Leslie, I think, in Broad Street.]
[Footnote 12: By her advances of money to Mr. Byron (says an authority
I have already cited) on the two occasions when he visited Aberdeen,
as well as by the expenses incurred in furnishing the floor occupied
by her, after his death, in Broad Street, she got in debt to the
amount of 300 _l._, by paying the interest on which her income was
reduced to 135 _l._ On this, however, she contrived to live without
increasing her debt; and on the death of her grandmother, when she
received the 122 _l._ set apart for that lady's annuity, discharged the
whole.]
[Footnote 13: In Long Acre. The present master of this school is Mr.
David Grant, the ingenious editor of a collection of "Battles and War
Pieces," and of a work of much utility, entitled "Class Book of Modern
Poetry."]
[Footnote 14: The old porter, too, at the College, "minds weel" the
little boy, with the red jacket and nankeen trowsers, whom he has so
often turned out of the College court-yard.]
[Footnote 15: "He was," says one of my informants, "a good hand at
marbles, and could drive one farther than most boys. He also excelled
at 'Bases,' a game which requires considerable swiftness of foot."]
[Footnote 16: On examining the quarterly lists kept at the
grammar-school of Aberdeen, in which the names of the boys are set
down according to the station each holds in his class, it appears that
in April of the year 1794, the name of Byron, then in the second
class, stands twenty-third in a list of thirty-eight boys. In the
April of 1798, however, he had risen to be fifth in the fourth class,
consisting of twenty-seven boys, and had got ahead of several of his
contemporaries, who had previously always stood before him.]
[Footnote 17: Notwithstanding the lively recollections expressed in
this poem, it is pretty certain, from the testimony of his nurse, that
he never was at the mountain itself, which stood some miles distant
from his residence, more than twice.]
[Footnote 18: The Island.]
[Footnote 19: Dante, we know, was but nine years old when, at a
May-day festival, he saw and fell in love with Beatrice; and Alfieri,
who was himself a precocious lover, considers such early sensibility
to be an unerring sign of a soul formed for the fine arts:--"Effetti,"
he says, in describing the feelings of his own first love, "che poche
persone intendono, e pochissime provano: ma a quei soli pochissimi è
concesso l' uscir dalla folla volgare in tutte le umane arti." Canova
used to say, that he perfectly well remembered having been in love
when but five years old.]
[Footnote 20: To this Lord Byron used to add, on the authority of old
servants of the family, that on the day of their patron's death, these
crickets all left the house simultaneously, and in such numbers, that
it was impossible to cross the hall without treading on them.]
[Footnote 21: The correct reading of this legend is, I understand, as
follows:--
"Brig o' Balgounie, _wight_ (strong) is thy wa';
Wi' a wife's ae son on a mare's ae foal,
Down shall thou fa'."
]
[Footnote 22: In a letter addressed lately by Mr. Sheldrake to the
editor of a Medical Journal, it is stated that the person of the same
name who attended Lord Byron at Dulwich owed the honour of being
called in to a mistake, and effected nothing towards the remedy of the
limb. The writer of the letter adds that he was himself consulted by
Lord Byron four or five years afterwards, and though unable to
undertake the cure of the defect, from the unwillingness of his noble
patient to submit to restraint or confinement, was successful in
constructing a sort of shoe for the foot, which in some degree
alleviated the inconvenience under which he laboured.]
[Footnote 23: "Quoique," says Alfieri, speaking of his school-days,
"je fusse le plus petit de tons les _grands_ qui se trouvaient au
second appartement où j'étais descendu, e'était précisement mon
inferiorité de taille, d'age, et de force, qui me donnait plus de
courage, et m'engageait à me distinguer."]
[Footnote 24: The following is Lord Byron's version of this touching
narrative; and it will be felt, I think, by every reader, that this is
one of the instances in which poetry must be content to yield the palm
to prose. There is a pathos in the last sentences of the seaman's
recital, which the artifices of metre and rhyme were sure to disturb,
and which, indeed, no verses, however beautiful, could half so
naturally and powerfully express:--
"There were two fathers in this ghastly crew,
And with them their two sons, of whom the one
Was more robust and hardy to the view,
But he died early; and when he was gone,
His nearest messmate told his sire, who threw
One glance on him, and said, 'Heaven's will be done,
I can do nothing,' and he saw him thrown
Into the deep without a tear or groan.
"The other father had a weaklier child,
Of a soft cheek, and aspect delicate;
But the boy bore up long, and with a mild
And patient spirit held aloof his fate;
Little be said, and now and then he smiled,
As if to win a part from off the weight
He saw increasing on his father's heart,
With the deep, deadly thought, that they must part.
"And o'er him bent his sire, and never raised
His eyes from off his face, but wiped the foam
From his pale lips, and ever on him gazed,
And when the wish'd-for shower at length was come,
And the boy's eyes, which the dull film half glazed,
Brighten'd, and for a moment seem'd to roam,
He squeezed from out a rag some drops of rain
Into his dying child's mouth--but in vain.
"The boy expired--the father held the clay,
And look'd upon it long, and when at last
Death left no doubt, and the dead burden lay
Stiff on his heart, and pulse and hope were past,
He watch'd it wistfully, until away
'Twas borne by the rude wave wherein 'twas cast:
Then he himself sunk down all dumb and shivering,
And gave no sign of life, save his limbs quivering."