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1808-1809. ‘ENGLISH BARDS, AND SCOTCH REVIEWERS.’ 94.—To the Rev. John Becher. [1] Dorant’s Hotel, Feb. 26, 1808. MY DEAR BECHER,—Now for Apollo. I am happy that you still retain your predilection, and that the public allow me some share of praise. I am of so much importance that a most violent attack is preparing for me in the next number of the ‘Edinburgh Review’. [2] This I had from the authority of a friend who has seen the proof and manuscript of the critique. You know the system of the Edinburgh gentlemen is universal attack. They praise none; and neither the public nor the author expects praise from them. It is, however, something to be noticed, as they profess to pass judgment only on works requiring the public attention. You will see this when it comes out;—it is, I understand, of the most unmerciful description; but I am aware of it, and hope ‘you’ will not be hurt by its severity. Tell Mrs. Byron not to be out of humour with them, and to prepare her mind for the greatest hostility on their part. It will do no injury whatever, and I trust her mind will not be ruffled. They defeat their object by indiscriminate abuse, and they never praise except the partisans of Lord Holland and Co. [3] It is nothing to be abused when Southey, Moore, Lauderdale, Strangford, and Payne Knight, share the same fate. [4] I am sorry—but “Childish
Recollections” must be suppressed during And now, my dear Becher, I must return my best acknowledgments for the interest you have taken in me and my poetical bantlings, and I shall ever be proud to show how much I esteem the advice and the adviser. Believe me, most truly, etc. [Footnote 1: The Rev. John Thomas Becher (1770-1848), educated at Westminster and Christ Church, Oxford, was appointed Vicar of Rumpton, Notts., and Midsomer Norton, 1801; Prebendary of Southwell in 1818; and chairman of Newark Quarter Sessions in 1816. In all matters relating to the condition of the poor he made himself an acknowledged authority. He was the originator of a house of correction, a Friendly Society, and a workhouse at Southwell. He was one of the “supervisors” appointed to organize the Milbank Penitentiary, which was opened in June, 1816. On Friendly Societies he published three works (1824, 1825, and 1826), in which, ‘inter alia’, he sought to prove that labourers, paying sixpence a week from the time they were twenty, could secure not only sick-pay, but an annuity of five shillings a week at the age of sixty-five. His ‘Anti-Pauper System’ (1828) pointed to indoor relief as the true cure to pauperism. It was by Becher’s advice that Byron destroyed his ’Fugitive Pieces’. No one who has read the silly verses which Becher condemned, can doubt that the counsel was wise (see Byron’s Lines to Becher, ‘Poems’, vol. i. pp. 112-114, 114-116, 247-251). The following are the lines in which Becher expostulated with Byron on the mischievous tendency of his verses:— “Say, Byron! why compel me to deplore [Footnote 2: See, for the Review itself, Appendix II. “As an author,” writes Byron to Hobhouse, February 27, 1808, “I am cut to atoms by the E-----’Review;’ it is just out, and has completely demolished my little fabric of fame.  This is rather scurvy treatment for a Whig Review; but politics and poetry are different things, and I am no adept in either.  I therefore submit in silence.” Among the less sentimental effects of this Review upon Byron’s mind, he used to mention that, on the day he read it, he drank three bottles of claret to his own share after dinner; that nothing, however, relieved him till he had given vent to his indignation in rhyme, and that “after the first twenty lines, he felt himself considerably better” (Moore, ‘Life’, p. 69). “I was sitting with Charles Lamb,”
H. Crabb Robinson told De Morgan, ‘I have no patience with these Reviewers,’ he said; ’here is a young man, a lord, and a minor, it appears, who publishes a little volume of poetry; and these fellows attack him, as if no one may write poetry unless he lives in a garret. The young man will do something, if he goes on.’ When I became acquainted with Lady Byron,
I told her this story, and ’Ah! if Byron had known
that, he would never have attacked “Well, how did the young poet get on with the old one?” “To tell
you the truth,” said he, “I had but one
feeling from the (’Diary,’ iii. 488.)] [Footnote 3: That is to say, the ‘Edinburgh Review’ praised only Whigs. Henry Richard Vassall Fox, third Lord Holland (1773-1840), the “nephew of Fox, and friend of Grey,” married, in 1797, Elizabeth Vassall, the divorced wife of Sir Godfrey Webster. He held the office of Lord Privy Seal in the Ministry of All the Talents (October, 1806, to March, 1807). During the long exclusion of the Whigs from office (1807-32), when there seemed as little chance of a Whig Administration as of “a thaw in Nova Zembla,” Holland, in the House of Lords, supported Catholic Emancipation, advocated the emancipation of slaves, opposed the detention of Napoleon as a prisoner of war, and moved the abolition of capital punishment for minor offences. From November, 1830, to his death, with brief intervals, he was Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, in the administrations of Lord Grey and of Lord Melbourne. Outside the House he kept the party together by his great social gifts. An admirable talker, ‘raconteur’, and mimic, with a wit’s relish for wit, the charm of his good temper was irresistible. “In my whole experience of our race,”
said Lord Brougham, “I never saw (’Statesmen of the Time of George III.’, ed. 1843, 3rd series, p. 341). Greville speaks of “his imperturbable temper, unflagging
vivacity and spirit, his (’Memoirs’, iii. 446). Leslie, in his ‘Autobiographical Recollections’ (vol. i. p. 100), adds the tribute that “he was, without any exception,
the very best-tempered man I have ever Lord John Russell (preface to vol. vi. of the ‘Life of Thomas Moore’) says that “he won without seeming to court,
instructed without seeming to teach, George Ticknor (’Life’, vol. i. p. 264) “never met a man who so disarms
opposition in discussion, as I have Sydney Smith (’Memoir of the Rev. Sydney Smith’, chap. x. p. 187) considered that his “career was one great, incessant, and unrewarded effort to resist oppression, promote justice, and restrain the abuse of power. He had an invincible hatred of tyranny and oppression, and the most ardent love of public happiness and attachment to public rights.” A lover of art, a scholar, a linguist, he wrote memoirs, satires, and verses, collected materials for a life of his uncle, Charles James Fox, and translated both from the Spanish and Italian. His ’Account of the Life and Writings of Lope Felix de Vega Carpio’ (1806) was reviewed favourably by the ‘Edinburgh Review’ for October, 1806. Byron attacked him in ‘English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers’ (lines 540-559, and ’notes’), on the supposition that Lord Holland had instigated the article in the ‘Edinburgh Review’ on ‘Hours of Idleness’ (January, 1808). In 1812, learning his mistake, and hearing from Rogers that Lord and Lady Holland desired the satire to be withdrawn, he gave orders that the whole impression should be burned (see ’Introduction to English Sards, and Scotch Reviewers, Poems,’ vol. i. p. 294). In his ‘Journal’ (November 17, 1813) he writes, “I have had a most kind letter from Lord Holland on ’The Bride of Abydos,’ which he likes, and so does Lady H. This is very good-natured in both, from whom I do not deserve any quarter. Yet I ‘did’ think at the time, that my cause of enmity proceeded from Holland House, and am glad I was wrong, and wish I had not been in such a hurry with that confounded Satire, of which I would suppress even the memory; but people, now they can’t get it, make a fuss, I verily believe out of contradiction.”] [Footnote 4: In the early numbers of the ‘Edinburgh Review’ reviews were published of Southey’s ‘Thalaba’ and ‘Madoc;’ of Moore’s ’Odes of Anacreon’ and ‘Poems;’ of Lord Lauderdale’s ’Inquiry into the Nature and Origin of Public Wealth;’ of Lord Strangford’s ’Translations from Camoëns;’ of Payne Knight’s ‘Principles of Taste.’] 95.—To the Rev. John Becher. Dorant’s, March 28, 1808. I have lately received a copy of the new edition from Ridge, and it is high time for me to return my best thanks to you for the trouble you have taken in the superintendence. This I do most sincerely, and only regret that Ridge has not seconded you as I could wish,—at least, in the bindings, paper, etc., of the copy he sent to me. Perhaps those for the public may be more respectable in such articles. You have seen the ‘Edinburgh Review’, of course. I regret that Mrs. Byron is so much annoyed. For my own part, these “paper bullets of the brain” have only taught me to stand fire; and, as I have been lucky enough upon the whole, my repose and appetite are not discomposed. Pratt, [1] the gleaner, author, poet, etc., etc., addressed a long rhyming epistle to me on the subject, by way of consolation; but it was not well done, so I do not send it, though the name of the man might make it go down. The E. Rs. have not performed their task well; at least the literati tell me this; and I think I could write a more sarcastic critique on myself than any yet published. For instance, instead of the remark,—ill-natured enough, but not keen,—about Macpherson, I (quoad reviewers) could have said, “Alas, this imitation only proves the assertion of Dr. Johnson, that many men, women, and children, could write such poetry as Ossian’s.” [2] I am thin and in exercise. During the spring or summer I trust we shall meet. I hear Lord Ruthyn leaves Newstead in April. As soon as he quits it for ever, I wish much you would take a ride over, survey the mansion, and give me your candid opinion on the most advisable mode of proceeding with regard to the house. Entre nous, I am cursedly dipped; my debts, every thing inclusive, will be nine or ten thousand before I am twenty-one. But I have reason to think my property will turn out better than general expectation may conceive. Of Newstead I have little hope or care; but Hanson, my agent, intimated my Lancashire property was worth three Newsteads. I believe we have it hollow; though the defendants are protracting the surrender, if possible, till after my majority, for the purpose of forming some arrangement with me, thinking I shall probably prefer a sum in hand to a reversion. Newstead I may sell;—perhaps I will not,—though of that more anon. I will come down in May or June. Yours most truly, etc. [Footnote 1: Samuel Jackson Pratt (1749-1814), actor, itinerant lecturer, poet of the Cruscan school, tragedian, and novelist, published a large number of volumes. His ‘Gleanings’ in England, Holland, Wales, and Westphalia attained some reputation. His ‘Sympathy, a Poem’ (1788) passed through several editions. His stage-name, as well as his ’nom de plume’, was Courtney Melmoth. He was the discoverer and patron of the cobbler-poet, Blacket (see also ‘English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers’, line 319, note 2).] [Footnote 2: “Dr. Johnson’s reply to the friend who asked him if any man ‘living’ could have written such a book, is well known: ’Yes, sir; many men, many women, and many children.’ I inquired of him myself if this story was authentic, and he said it was” (Mrs. Piozzi, ‘Johnsoniana’, p. 84).—[Moore.]] 96.—To the Hon. Augusta Leigh. [Six Mile Bottom, Newmarket, Cambridge.] Dorant’s, [Tuesday], April 26th, 1808. My dear Augusta,—I regret being compelled to trouble you again, but it is necessary I should request you will inform Col. Leigh, if the P’s consent is not obtained in a few days, it will be of little service to Mr. Wallace, who is ordered to join the 17th in ten days, the Regiment is stationed in the East Indies, and, as he has already served there nine years, he is unwilling to return. I shall feel particularly obliged by Col. Leigh’s interference, as I think from his influence the Prince’s consent might be obtained. I am not much in the habit of asking favours, or pressing exertion, but, on this occasion, my wish to save Wallace must plead my excuse. I have been introduced to Julia Byron [1] by Trevannion at the Opera; she is pretty, but I do not admire her; there is too much Byron in her countenance, I hear she is clever, a very great defect in a woman, who becomes conceited in course; altogether I have not much inclination to improve the acquaintance. I have seen my old friend George, [1]
who will prove the best of the Pray name my nephew after his uncle; it
must be a nephew, (I won’t George will have the title and his laurels;
my property, (if any is Yours ever, BYRON. [Footnote 1: George Anson Byron, R.N. (1758-1793), second son of Admiral the Hon. John Byron, by his wife Sophia Trevanion, and brother of Byron’s father, married Henrietta Charlotte Dallas, by whom he had a son, George, who was at this time in the Royal Navy, and in 1824 succeeded as seventh Lord Byron; and a daughter, Julia Byron, who married, in 1817, the Rev. Robert Heath. Of his cousin George, Byron writes in his ‘Journal’ for November 30, 1813 (’Life,’ p. 209): “I like George much more than most
people like their heirs. He is a Again on December 1, 1813, he says, “I hope he will be an admiral, and,
perhaps, Lord Byron into the George Anson Byron and his wife both died in 1793.] 97.—To the Rev. John Becher. Newstead Abbey, Notts., Sept. 14, 1808. My dear Becher,—I am much obliged to you for your inquiries, and shall profit by them accordingly. I am going to get up a play here; the hall will constitute a most admirable theatre. I have settled the ‘dram. pers.,’ and can do without ladies, as I have some young friends who will make tolerable substitutes for females, and we only want three male characters, beside Mr. Hobhouse and myself, for the play we have fixed on, which will be the ‘Revenge.’ [1] Pray direct Nicholson the carpenter to come over to me immediately, and inform me what day you will dine and pass the night here. Believe me, etc. [Footnote 1: Young’s tragedy (1721), from which one of Byron’s Harrow speeches in the character of “Zanga” was taken (see page 27 [Letter 10], [Foot]note 1).] 98.—To John Jackson. [1] N. A., Notts., September 18, 1808. Dear Jack,—I wish you would
inform me what has been done by Jekyll, I have also to request you will call on Louch at Brompton, and inquire what the devil he meant by sending such an insolent letter to me at Brighton; and at the same time tell him I by no means can comply with the charge he has made for things pretended to be damaged. Ambrose behaved most scandalously about the pony. You may tell Jekyll if he does not refund the money, I shall put the affair into my lawyer’s hands. Five and twenty guineas is a sound price for a pony, and by God, if it costs me five hundred pounds, I will make an example of Mr. Jekyll, and that immediately, unless the cash is returned. Believe me, dear Jack, etc. [Footnote 1: John Jackson (1769-1845), better known as “Gentleman” Jackson, was champion of England from 1795 to 1803. His three fights were against Fewterel (1788), George Ingleston (1789), and Mendoza (1795). In his fight at Ingatestone with “George the Brewer,” he slipped on the wet stage, and, falling, dislocated his ankle and broke his leg. His fight with Mendoza at Hornchurch, Essex, was decided in nine rounds. At the end of the third round “the odds rose two to one on Mendoza.” In the fifth, Jackson “seized hold of his opponent by the hair, and served him out in that defenceless state till he fell to the ground.” The fight was practically over, and the odds at once turned in favour of Jackson, who thenceforward had matters all his own way. Even if Mendoza had worn a wig, he probably would have succumbed to Jackson, who was a more powerful man with a longer reach, and as scientific, though not so ornamental, a boxer. In 1803 Jackson retired from the ring. “I can see him now” (’Pugilistica,’ vol. i. 98), “as I saw him in ’84, walking down Holborn Hill towards Smithfield. He had on a scarlet coat worked in gold at the button-holes, ruffles, and frill of fine lace, a small white stock, no collar (they were not then invented), a looped hat with a broad black band, buff knee-breeches, and long silk strings, striped white silk stockings, pumps, and paste buckles; his waistcoat was pale blue satin, sprigged with white. It was impossible to look on his fine ample chest, his noble shoulders, his waist, (if anything too small,) his large, but not too large hips, ... his limbs, his balustrade calf and beautifully turned, but not over delicate ankle, his firm foot, and peculiarly small hand, without thinking that nature had sent him on earth as a model. On he went at a good five miles and a half an hour, the envy of all men, and the admiration of all women.” His rooms at 13, Bond Street, became the head-quarters of the Pugilistic Club, with whose initials, P.C., the ropes and stakes at prize-rings were marked (see page 99 [Letter 51], [Foot]note 1; and Pierce Egan’s ‘Life in London,’ pp. 252-254). From 1803 to 1824, when he retired from the profession, he was, as Pierce Egan says of him (p. 254), unrivalled as “a teacher of the Art of ‘self-defence.’” His character stood high. “From the highest to the lowest person in the Sporting World, his ‘decision’ is law.” “This gentleman,” says Moore, in a note to ’Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress’ (p. 13), “as he well deserves to be called, from the correctness of his conduct and the peculiar urbanity of his manners, forms that useful link between the amateurs and the professors of pugilism, which, when broken, it will be difficult, if not wholly impossible, to replace.” He was Byron’s guest at Cambridge, Newstead, and Brighton; received from him many letters; and is described by him, in a note to ‘Don Juan’ (Canto XI. stanza xix.), as “my old friend and corporeal pastor and master.” Jackson’s monument in Brompton Cemetery, a couchant lion and a mourning athlete, was subscribed for “by several noblemen and gentlemen, to record their admiration of one whose excellence of heart and incorruptible worth endeared him to all who knew him.”] 99.—To John Jackson. N. A., Notts., October 4, 1808. You will make as good a bargain as possible with this Master Jekyll, if he is not a gentleman. If he is a gentleman, inform me, for I shall take very different steps. If he is not, you must get what you can of the money, for I have too much business on hand at present to commence an action. Besides, Ambrose is the man who ought to refund,—but I have done with him. You can settle with L. out of the balance, and dispose of the bidets, etc., as you best can. I should be very glad to see you here;
but the house is filled with If you see Bold Webster, [1] remember
me to him, and tell him I have Believe me, etc. [Footnote 1: Sir Godfrey Vassal Webster (1788-1836).] [Footnote 2: A third letter to Jackson, written from Newstead, December 12, 1808, runs as follows:— “My Dear Jack,—You will
get the greyhound from the owner at any “Tell D’Egville his dress shall be returned—I am obliged to him for the pattern. I am sorry you should have so much trouble, but I was not aware of the difficulty of procuring the animals in question. I shall have finished part of my mansion in a few weeks, and, if you can pay me a visit at Christmas, I shall be very glad to see you. Believe me, etc.” In a bill, for 1808, sent in to Byron by Messrs. Finn and Johnson, tailors, of Nottingham, appears the following item: “Masquerade Jackett with belt and rich Turban, £11:9:6.” This is probably the dress made from d’Egville’s pattern. James d’Egville learned dancing from Gaetano Vestris, well known at the Court of Frederick the Great, and from Gardel, the Court teacher of Marie Antoinette. He, his brother Louis, and his sister Madame Michau, were the most famous teachers of the day in England. The real name of the family was Hervey; that of d’Egville was assumed for professional purposes. James d’Egville enjoyed a great reputation, both as an actor and a dancer, in Paris and London. He was Acting-Manager and Director of the King’s Theatre (October, 1807, to January, 1808), but was dismissed, owing to a disagreement between the managers, in the course of which he was accused of French proclivities and republican principles (see Waters’s ‘Opera-Glass’, pp. 133-145). A man of taste and cultivation, he produced some musical extravaganzas and ballets; ’e.g. Don Quichotte ou les Noces de Gamache, L’Elèvement d’Adonis, The Rape of Dejanira’, etc. A coloured print, in the possession of his great-nephew, Mr. Louis d’Egville, represents him, with Deshayes, in one of his most successful appearances, the ballet-pantomime of ‘Achille et Deidamie’. He was an enthusiastic sportsman.] 100.—To his Mother. Newstead Abbey, Notts, October 7, 1808. Dear Madam,—I have no beds for the Hansons or any body else at present. The Hansons sleep at Mansfield. I do not know that I resemble Jean Jacques Rousseau. [1] I have no ambition to be like so illustrious a madman—but this I know, that I shall live in my own manner, and as much alone as possible. When my rooms are ready I shall be glad to see you: at present it would be improper, and uncomfortable to both parties. You can hardly object to my rendering my mansion habitable, notwithstanding my departure for Persia in March (or May at farthest), since you will be tenant till my return; and in case of any accident (for I have already arranged my will to be drawn up the moment I am twenty-one), I have taken care you shall have the house and manor for life, besides a sufficient income. So you see my improvements are not entirely selfish. As I have a friend here, we will go to the Infirmary Ball on the 12th; we will drink tea with Mrs. Byron [2] at eight o’clock, and expect to see you at the ball. If that lady will allow us a couple of rooms to dress in, we shall be highly obliged:—if we are at the ball by ten or eleven, it will be time enough, and we shall return to Newstead about three or four. Adieu. Believe me, yours very truly, BYRON. [Footnote 1: In Byron’s ‘Detached Thoughts’, quoted by Moore (’Life’, p. 72), he thus refers to the comparison with Rousseau:— “My mother, before I was twenty, would have it that I was like Rousseau, and Madame de Stael used to say so too in 1813, and the ‘Edinburgh Review’ has something of the sort in its critique on the fourth canto of ‘Childe Harold’. I can’t see any point of resemblance:—he wrote prose, I verse: he was of the people; I of the aristocracy: he was a philosopher; I am none: he published his first work at forty; I mine at eighteen: his first essay brought him universal applause; mine the contrary: he married his housekeeper; I could not keep house with my wife: he thought all the world in a plot against him; my little world seems to think me in a plot against it, if I may judge by their abuse in print and coterie: he liked botany; I like flowers, herbs, and trees, but know nothing of their pedigrees: he wrote music; I limit my knowledge of it to what I catch by ear—I never could learn any thing by study, not even a language—it was all by rote and ear, and memory: he had a bad memory; I had, at least, an excellent one (ask Hodgson the poet—a good judge, for he has an astonishing one): he wrote with hesitation and care; I with rapidity, and rarely with pains: he could never ride, nor swim, nor ‘was cunning of fence;’ I am an excellent swimmer, a decent, though not at all a dashing, rider, (having staved in a rib at eighteen, in the course of scampering,) and was sufficient of fence, particularly of the Highland broadsword,—not a bad boxer, when I could keep my temper, which was difficult, but which I strove to do ever since I knocked down Mr. Purling, and put his knee-pan out (with the gloves on), in Angelo’s and Jackson’s rooms in 1806, during the sparring, —and I was, besides, a very fair cricketer,—one of the Harrow eleven, when we played against Eton in 1805. Besides, Rousseau’s way of life, his country, his manners, his whole character, were so very different, that I am at a loss to conceive how such a comparison could have arisen, as it has done three several times, and all in rather a remarkable manner. I forgot to say that he was also short-sighted, and that hitherto my eyes have been the contrary, to such a degree that, in the largest theatre of Bologna, I distinguished and read some busts and inscriptions, painted near the stage, from a box so distant and so darkly lighted, that none of the company (composed of young and very bright-eyed people, some of them in the same box,) could make out a letter, and thought it was a trick, though I had never been in that theatre before. “Altogether, I think myself justified in thinking the comparison not well founded. I don’t say this out of pique, for Rousseau was a great man; and the thing, if true, were flattering enough;—but I have no idea of being pleased with the chimera.”] [Footnote 2: The Hon. Mrs. George Byron, ‘née’ Frances Levett, Byron’s great-aunt, widow of the Hon. George Byron, fourth brother of William, fifth Lord Byron.] 101.—To his Mother. Newstead Abbey, November 2, 1808. DEAR MOTHER,—If you please, we will forget the things you mention. I have no desire to remember them. When my rooms are finished, I shall be happy to see you; as I tell but the truth, you will not suspect me of evasion. I am furnishing the house more for you than myself, and I shall establish you in it before I sail for India, which I expect to do in March, if nothing particularly obstructive occurs. I am now fitting up the green drawing-room; the red for a bed-room, and the rooms over as sleeping-rooms. They will be soon completed;—at least I hope so. I wish you would inquire of Major Watson (who is an old Indian) what things will be necessary to provide for my voyage. I have already procured a friend to write to the Arabic Professor at Cambridge, [1] for some information I am anxious to procure. I can easily get letters from government to the ambassadors, consuls, etc., and also to the governors at Calcutta and Madras. I shall place my property and my will in the hands of trustees till my return, and I mean to appoint you one. From Hanson I have heard nothing—when I do, you shall have the particulars. After all, you must own my project is not a bad one. If I do not travel now, I never shall, and all men should one day or other. I have at present no connections to keep me at home; no wife, or unprovided sisters, brothers, etc. I shall take care of you, and when I return I may possibly become a politician. A few years’ knowledge of other countries than our own will not incapacitate me for that part. If we see no nation but our own, we do not give mankind a fair chance;—it is from experience, not books, we ought to judge of them. There is nothing like inspection, and trusting to our own senses. Yours, etc. [Footnote 1: The Rev. John Palmer, Fellow of St. John’s, Adam’s Professor of Arabic (1804-19).] 102.—To Francis Hodgson. [1] Newstead Abbey, Notts., Nov. 3, 1808. My Dear Hodgson,—I expected to have heard ere this the event of your interview with the mysterious Mr. Haynes, my volunteer correspondent; however, as I had no business to trouble you with the adjustment of my concerns with that illustrious stranger, I have no right to complain of your silence. You have of course seen Drury, [2] in all the pleasing palpitations of anticipated wedlock. Well! he has still something to look forward to, and his present extacies are certainly enviable. “Peace be with him and with his spirit,” and his flesh also, at least just now … Hobhouse and your humble are still here. Hobhouse hunts, etc., and I do nothing; we dined the other day with a neighbouring Esquire (not Collet of Staines), and regretted your absence, as the Bouquet of Staines was scarcely to be compared to our last “feast of reason.” You know, laughing is the sign of a rational animal; so says Dr. Smollett. I think so, too, but unluckily my spirits don’t always keep pace with my opinions. I had not so much scope for risibility the other day as I could have wished, for I was seated near a woman, to whom, when a boy, I was as much attached as boys generally are, and more than a man should be. [3] I knew this before I went, and was determined to be valiant, and converse with sang froid; but instead I forgot my valour and my nonchalance, and never opened my lips even to laugh, far less to speak, and the lady was almost as absurd as myself, which made both the object of more observation than if we had conducted ourselves with easy indifference. You will think all this great nonsense; if you had seen it, you would have thought it still more ridiculous. What fools we are! We cry for a plaything, which, like children, we are never satisfied with till we break open, though like them we cannot get rid of it by putting it in the fire. I have tried for Gifford’s Epistle
to Pindar,[4] and the bookseller Believe me, my dear Sir, yours ever sincerely, BYRON. [Footnote 1: Francis Hodgson (1781-1852), educated at Eton (1794-99) and at King’s College, Cambridge, Scholar (1799), Fellow (1802), hesitated between literature and the bar as his profession. For three years he was a private tutor, for one (1806) a master at Eton. In 1807 he became a resident tutor at King’s. It was not till 1812 that he decided to take orders. Two years later he married Miss Tayler, a sister of Mrs. Henry Drury, and took a country curacy. In 1816 he was given the Eton living of Bakewell, in Derbyshire, became Archdeacon of Derby in 1836, and in 1840 Provost of Eton. At Eton he died December 29, 1852. Hodgson’s literary facility was extraordinary. He rhymed with an ease which almost rivals that of Byron, and from 1807 to 1818 he poured out quantities of verse, English and Latin, original and translated, besides writing articles for the ‘Quarterly’, the ‘Monthly’, and the ‘Critical’ Reviews. He published his ‘Translation of Juvenal’ in 1807, in which he was assisted by Drury and Merivale; ‘Lady Jane Grey’, a Tale; and other Poems (1809); ‘Sir Edgar, a Tale’ (1810); ‘Leaves of Laurel’ (1812); ‘Charlemagne, an Epic Poem’ (1815), translated from the original of Lucien Bonaparte, Prince of Canino, by S. Butler and Francis Hodgson; ‘The Friends, a Poem in Four Books; Mythology for Versification’ (1831); ‘A Charge, as Archdeacon of Derby’ (1837); ‘Sermons’ (1846); and other works. His acquaintance with Byron began in 1807, when Byron was meditating ‘British Bards’, and Hodgson, provoked by a review of his ‘Juvenal’ in the ‘Edinburgh Review’, was composing his ’Gentle Alterative prepared for the Reviewers’, which appears on pp. 56, 57 of ‘Lady Jane Grey’. There are some curious points of resemblance between the two poems, though Hodgson’s lines can hardly be compared for force and sting to ‘English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers’. Like Byron (see ’English Bards, etc’., line 513, note 7), he makes merry over the blunder of the ‘Edinburgh’ reviewer, who, in an article on Payne Knight’s ’Principles of Taste’, severely criticized some Greek lines which he attributed to Knight, but which, in fact, were by Pindar:— “And when he frown’d on Kn—’s
erroneous Greek, Like Byron also, he attributes the blunder to Hallam, and speaks of “Hallam’s baffled art.” The article was written by Lord Holland’s physician, Dr. Allen, who, according to Sydney Smith, had “the creed of a philosopher and the legs of a clergyman.” Like Byron also (see ’English Bards, etc’., line 820), he appeals to Gifford, who was an old family friend, to return to the fray:— “Oh! for that voice, whose cadence
loud and strong In a note appended to the words in his satire—“Like clowns detest nobility”—he refers to the ‘Edinburgh’s’ treatment of Byron’s verse. The link thus established between Byron and Hodgson grew stronger for the next few years. Hodgson suppressed Moore’s challenge to the author of ‘English Bards’; was Byron’s guest at Newstead (see page 179 [Letter 92], in [Foot]note pleaded with him on the subject of religion; translated his lines, “I would I were a careless child,” into Latin verse (’Lady Jane Grey’, p. 94); addressed him in poetry, as, for instance, in the “Lines to a Friend going abroad” (’Sir Edgar’, p. 173). Byron, on his side, seems to have been sincerely attached to Hodgson, to whom he left, by his first will (1811), one-third of his personal goods, and in 1813 gave £1000 to enable him to marry. Hodgson corresponded with Mrs. Leigh and with Miss Milbanke, afterwards Lady Byron, endeavoured to heal the breach between husband and wife, and was one of the mourners at Hucknall Torkard Church. In Haydon’s ‘Table-Talk’ (vol. ii. pp. 367-8) is recorded a conversation with Hobhouse on the subject of Hodgson. Haydon’s account of Hobhouse’s words is confused; but he definitely asserts that Hodgson’s life was dissipated, and insinuates that he perverted Byron’s character. Part of the explanation is probably this: Hodgson’s friend, the Rev. Robert Bland, kept a mistress, described as a woman of great personal and mental attraction. He asked Hodgson, during his absence on the Continent, to visit the lady and send him frequent news of her. Hodgson did so, with the result that, at Bland’s return, the lady refused to see him. When Byron came back from his Eastern tour, he received a frantic letter from Bland, telling him that Hodgson had stolen her love. To this Byron refers in his letter to Harness, December 15, 1811, and probably told an embellished story to Hobhouse. But Hodgson himself warmly repudiated the charge; and there is no reason to think that his version of the affair is not the truth.] [Footnote 2: The Rev. Henry Drury married, December 20, 1808, Ann Caroline, daughter of Archdale Wilson Tayler, of Boreham Wood, Herts. Their five sons were all educated at Harrow: Henry, Archdeacon of Wilts and editor of ‘Arundines Cami’ (1841); Byron, Vice-Admiral R.N.; Benjamin Heath, Vice-President of Caius College, Cambridge; Heber, Colonel in the Madras Army; Charles Curtis, General of the Bengal Staff Corps (see also page 41 [Foot]note 2 [1]).] [Footnote 3: Mrs. Chaworth Musters (see Byron’s lines, “Well! thou art happy,” ‘Poems’, vol. i. pp. 277-279).] [Footnote 4: William Gifford (1756-1826), a self-taught scholar, first a ploughboy, then boy on board a Brixham coaster, afterwards shoemaker’s apprentice, was sent by friends to Exeter College, Oxford (1779-81). In the ‘Baviad’ (1794) and the ‘Maeviad’ (1795) he attacked many of the smaller writers of the day, who were either silly, like the Delia Cruscan school, or discreditable, like Williams, who wrote as “Anthony Pasquin.” In his ‘Epistle to Peter Pindar’ (1800) he succeeds in laying bare the true character of John Wolcot. As editor of the ’Anti-Jacobin, or Weekly Examiner’ (November, 1797, to July, 1798), he supported the political views of Canning and his friends. As editor of the ’Quarterly Review’, from its foundation (February, 1809) to his resignation in September, 1824, he did yeoman’s service to sound literature by his good sense and adherence to the best models. It was a period when all criticism was narrow, and, to some degree, warped by political prejudice. In these respects, Gifford’s work may not have risen above—it certainly did not fall below—the highest standard of contemporary criticism. His editions of ‘Massinger’ (1805), which superseded that of Monck Mason and Davies (1765), of ‘Ben Jonson’ (1816), of ‘Ford’ (1827), are valuable. To his translation of ‘Juvenal’ (1802) is prefixed his autobiography. His translation of ‘Persius’ appeared in 1821. To Gifford, Byron usually paid the utmost deference. “Any suggestion of yours, even if
it were conveyed,” he writes to him, See also his letter (September 7, 1811), in which he calls Gifford his “Magnus Apollo,” and values his praise above the gems of Samarcand. “He was,” says Sir Walter
Scott (’Diary,’ January 18, 1827), “a
little Byron was attracted to Gifford, partly by his devotion to the classical models of literature, partly by the outspoken frankness of his literary criticism, partly also, perhaps, by his physical deformity. 103.—To John Hanson. Newstead Abbey, Notts., November 18th, 1808. Dear Sir,—I am truly glad to hear your health is reinstated. As for my affairs I am sure you will do your best, and, though I should be glad to get rid of my Lancashire property for an equivalent in money, I shall not take any steps of that nature without good advice and mature consideration. I am (as I have already told you) going abroad in the spring; for this I have many reasons. In the first place, I wish to study India and Asiatic policy and manners. I am young, tolerably vigorous, abstemious in my way of living; I have no pleasure in fashionable dissipation, and I am determined to take a wider field than is customary with travellers. If I return, my judgment will be more mature, and I shall still be young enough for politics. With regard to expence, travelling through the East is rather inconvenient than expensive: it is not like the tour of Europe, you undergo hardship, but incur little hazard of spending money. If I live here I must have my house in town, a separate house for Mrs. Byron; I must keep horses, etc., etc. When I go abroad I place Mrs. Byron at Newstead (there is one great expence saved), I have no horses to keep. A voyage to India will take me six months, and if I had a dozen attendants cannot cost me five hundred pounds; and you will agree with me that a like term of months in England would lead me into four times that expenditure. I have written to Government for letters and permission of the Company, so you see I am serious. You honour my debts; they amount to perhaps twelve thousand pounds, and I shall require perhaps three or four thousand at setting out, with credit on a Bengal agent. This you must manage for me. If my resources are not adequate to the supply I must sell, but not Newstead. I will at least transmit that to the next Lord. My debts must be paid, if possible, in February. I shall leave my affairs to the care of trustees, of whom, with your acquiescence, I shall name you one, Mr. Parker another, and two more, on whom I am not yet determined. Pray let me hear from you soon. Remember
me to Mrs. Hanson, whom I BYRON. 104.—To Francis Hodgson. Newstead Abbey, Notts., Nov. 27, 1808. My Dear Sir,—Boatswain [1] is to be buried in a vault waiting for myself. I have also written an epitaph, which I would send, were it not for two reasons: one is, that it is too long for a letter; and the other, that I hope you will some day read it on the spot where it will be engraved. You discomfort me with the intelligence of the real orthodoxy of the Arch-fiend’s name, [2] but alas! it must stand with me at present; if ever I have an opportunity of correcting, I shall liken him to Geoffrey of Monmouth, a noted liar in his way, and perhaps a more correct prototype than the Carnifex of James II. I do not think the composition of your poem “a sufficing reason” for not keeping your promise of a Christmas visit. Why not come? I will never disturb you in your moments of inspiration; and if you wish to collect any materials for the scenery?,[3] Hardwicke (where Mary was confined for several years) is not eight miles distant, and, independent of the interest you must take in it as her vindicator, is a most beautiful and venerable object of curiosity. I shall take it very ill if you do not come; my mansion is improving in comfort, and, when you require solitude, I shall have an apartment devoted to the purpose of receiving your poetical reveries. I have heard from our Drury; he says little of the Row, which I regret: indeed I would have sacrificed much to have contributed in any way (as a schoolboy) to its consummation; but Butler survives, and thirteen boys have been expelled in vain. Davies is not here, but Hobhouse hunts as usual, and your humble servant “drags at each remove a lengthened chain.” I have heard from his Grace of Portland [4] on the subject of my expedition: he talks of difficulties; by the gods! if he throws any in my way I will next session ring such a peal in his ears, That he shall wish the fiery You do not tell me if Gifford is really
my commentator: it is too good I shall expect you here; let me have no more excuses. Hobhouse desires his best remembrance. We are now lingering over our evening potations. I have extended my letter further than I ought, and beg you will excuse it; on the opposite page I send you some stanzas [6] I wrote off on being questioned by a former flame as to my motives for quitting this country. You are the first reader. Hobhouse hates everything of the kind, therefore I do not show them to him. Adieu! Believe me, yours very sincerely, BYRON. [Footnote 1: Boatswain, the Newfoundland dog, died November 18, 1808. (For Byron’s inscriptions in prose and verse, see ‘Poems’, vol. i. p. 280.)] [Footnote 2: Byron at first thought that Jeffrey, the editor of the ‘Edinburgh Review’, spelt his name in the same way as the Judge Jeffreys of the Bloody Assizes. He probably writes “orthodoxy” for “orthography” as a joke. (See the lines quoted from ‘British Bards’ in notes to ‘English. Bards, etc.’, line 439, note 2.)] [Footnote 3: It is stated that Hodgson was writing a poem on Mary Queen of Scots (’Life of Rev. Francis Hodgson’, vol. i. p. 107). No such poem was apparently ever published. In Hodgson’s ‘Lady Jane Grey’, Queen Mary of England plays a part; hence, possibly, the mistake.] [Footnote 4: Byron asked the Duke of Portland to procure him “permission from the E.I. Directors to pass through their settlements.” The duke replied, in effect, that Byron trespassed on his time and patience. So Byron at least took his answer (see ’English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers,’ line 1016 and note 2).] [Footnote 5: ‘Marmion’, Canto II. stanza xxxi.] [Footnote 6: See stanzas “To a Lady on being asked my Reason for Quitting England in the Spring” (’Poems’, vol. i. p. 282).] 105.—To the Hon. Augusta Leigh. [Ld. Chichester’s, Stratton Street, London.] Newstead Abbey, Notts., [Wednesday], Novr. 30th, 1808. My Dearest Augusta,—I return you my best thanks for making me an uncle, and forgive the sex this time; but the next must be a nephew. You will be happy to hear my Lancashire property is likely to prove extremely valuable; indeed my pecuniary affairs are altogether far superior to my expectations or any other person’s. If I would sell, my income would probably be six thousand per annum; but I will not part at least with Newstead, or indeed with the other, which is of a nature to increase in value yearly. I am living here alone, which suits my inclinations better than society of any kind. Mrs. Byron I have shaken off for two years, and I shall not resume her yoke in future, I am afraid my disposition will suffer in your estimation; but I never can forgive that woman, or breathe in comfort under the same roof. I am a very unlucky fellow, for I think
I had naturally not a bad I do not know that much alteration has taken place in my person, except that I am grown much thinner, and somewhat taller! I saw Col. Leigh at Brighton in July, where I should have been glad to have seen you; I only know your husband by sight, though I am acquainted with many of the Tenth. Indeed my relations are those whom I know the least, and in most instances, I am not very anxious to improve the acquaintance. I hope you are quite recovered, I shall be in town in January to take my seat, and will call, if convenient; let me hear from you before. [Signature cut off, and over the page
is, in Mrs. Leigh’s writing, 106.—To the Hon. Augusta Leigh. [Ld. Chichester’s, Stratton Street, London.] Newstead Abbey, Notts., Decr. 14th, 1808. My Dearest Augusta,—When I stated in my last, that my intercourse with the world had hardened my heart, I did not mean from any matrimonial disappointment, no, I have been guilty of many absurdities, but I hope in God I shall always escape that worst of evils, Marriage. I have no doubt there are exceptions, and of course include you amongst them, but you will recollect, that “exceptions only prove the Rule.” I live here much in my own manner, that is, alone, for I could not bear the company of my best friend, above a month; there is such a sameness in mankind upon the whole, and they grow so much more disgusting every day, that, were it not for a portion of Ambition, and a conviction that in times like the present we ought to perform our respective duties, I should live here all my life, in unvaried Solitude. I have been visited by all our Nobility and Gentry; but I return no visits. Joseph Murray is at the head of my household, poor honest fellow! I should be a great Brute, if I had not provided for him in the manner most congenial to his own feelings, and to mine. I have several horses, and a considerable establishment, but I am not addicted to hunting or shooting. I hate all field sports, though a few years since I was a tolerable adept in the polite arts of Foxhunting, Hawking, Boxing, etc., etc. My Library is rather extensive, (and as you perhaps know) I am a mighty Scribbler; I flatter myself I have made some improvements in Newstead, and, as I am independent, I am happy, as far as any person unfortunate enough to be born into this world, can be said to be so. I shall be glad to hear from you when
convenient, and beg you to Very sincerely yours, BYRON. 107.—To John Hanson. Newstead Abbey, Notts., Dec. 17, 1808. My Dear Sir,—I regret the contents of your letter as I think we shall be thrown on our backs from the delay. I do not know if our best method would not be to compromise if possible, as you know the state of my affairs will not be much bettered by a protracted and possibly unsuccessful litigation. However, I am and have been so much in the dark during the whole transaction that I am not a competent judge of the most expedient measures. I suppose it will end in my marrying a Golden Dolly [1] or blowing my brains out; it does not much matter which, the remedies are nearly alike. I shall be glad to hear from you further on the business. I suppose now it will be still more difficult to come to any terms. Have you seen Mrs. Massingberd, and have you arranged my Israelitish accounts? Pray remember me to Mrs. Hanson, to Harriet, and all the family, female and male. Believe me also, yours very sincerely, BYRON. [Footnote 1: Mrs. Byron also advised his marriage with an heiress. The following passage is taken from her letter to Hanson, January 30, 1809:— “I was sorry I could not see you here. Byron told me he intended to put his servants on Board Wages at Newstead. I was very sorry to hear of the great expence the Newstead fête would put him to. I can see nothing but the Road to Ruin in all this, which grieves me to the heart and makes me still worse than I would otherwise be (unless, indeed, Coal Mines turn to Gold Mines), or that he mends his fortune in the old and usual way by marrying a Woman with two or three hundred thousand pounds. I have no doubt of his being a great speaker and a celebrated public character, and all that; but that won’t add to his fortune, but bring on more expenses on him, and there is nothing to be had in this country to make a man rich in his line of life.” In another letter to Hanson, dated March 4, 1809, she returns to the same subject:— “I have had a very dismal letter from my son, informing me that he is ruined. He wishes to borrow my money. This I shall be very ready to oblige him in, on such security as you approve. As it is my all, this is very necessary, and I am sure he would not wish to have it on any other terms. It cannot be paid up, however, under six months’ notice. I wish he would take the debt of a thousand pounds, that I have been security for, on himself, and pay about eighty pounds he owes here. I wish to God he would exert himself and retrieve his affairs. He must marry a Woman of fortune this spring; love matches is all nonsense. Let him make use of the Talents God has given him. He is an English Peer, and has all the privileges of that situation. What is this about proving his grandfather’s marriage? I thought it had been in Lancashire. If it was not, it surely easily can be proved. Is nothing going forward concerning the Rochdale Property? I am sure, if I was Lord Byron, I would sell no estates to pay Jews; I only would pay what was lawful. Pray answer the note immediately, and answer all my questions concerning lending the money, the Rochdale property, and why B. don’t or can’t take his seat, which is very hard, and very provoking. I am, Dear Sir, yours sincerely, C. G. BYRON.”] 108.—To Francis Hodgson. Newstead Abbey, Notts., Dec. 17, 1808. My Dear Hodgson,—I have just received your letter, and one from B. Drury, [1] which I would send, were it not too bulky to despatch within a sheet of paper; but I must impart the contents and consign the answer to your care. In the first place, I cannot address the answer to him, because the epistle is without date or direction; and in the next, the contents are so singular that I can scarce believe my optics, “which are made the fools of the other senses, or else worth all the rest.” A few weeks ago, I wrote to our friend Harry Drury of facetious memory, to request he would prevail on his brother at Eton to receive the son of a citizen in London well known unto me as a pupil; the family having been particularly polite during the short time I was with them, induced me to this application. “Now mark what follows,” as somebody or Southey sublimely saith: on this day, the 17th December, arrives an epistle signed B. Drury, containing not the smallest reference to tuition or intuition, but a petition for Robert Gregson, [2] of pugilistic notoriety, now in bondage for certain paltry pounds sterling, and liable to take up his everlasting abode in Banco Regis. Had this letter been from any of my lay acquaintance, or, in short, from anyone but the gentleman whose signature it bears, I should have marvelled not. If Drury is serious, I congratulate pugilism on the acquisition of such a patron, and shall be happy to advance any sum necessary for the liberation of the captive Gregson; but I certainly hope to be certified from you or some reputable housekeeper of the fact, before I write to Drury on the subject. When I say the fact, I mean of the letter being written by Drury, not having any doubt as to the authenticity of the statement. The letter is now before me, and I keep it for your perusal. When I hear from you I shall address my answer to him, under your care; for as it is now the vacation at Eton, and the letter is without time or place, I cannot venture to consign my sentiments on so momentous a concern to chance. To you, my dear Hodgson, I have not much
to say. If you can make it [Footnote 1: Benjamin Heath Drury (1782-1835), second son of the Headmaster of Harrow (see page 41 [Letter 14], [Foot]note 2 [1]), was a Fellow of King’s College, Cambridge, and Assistant-master at Eton. Gronow (’Reminiscences’, vol. i. pp. 209 and 233) says that Drury was “passionately devoted to theatricals,” and, with his friend Knapp, frequently drove up to London after school-hours to sup with Edmund Kean and Arnold at Drury Lane or the Hummums in Covent Garden. On one occasion they took with them Lord Eldon’s son, then a school-boy at Eton. After supper the party were “run in” by the watchmen, and bailed out at Bow Street by the Lord Chancellor’s secretary.] [Footnote 2: Bob Gregson (1778-1824), the big-boned, burly landlord of the Castle, Holborn, known as “Bob’s Chop-house,” was a familiar figure in the sporting world. When captain of the Liverpool and Wigan Packet, he established his reputation in Lancashire as a fighter. He stood 6 feet 1-1/2 inches in height, and weighed 15 stone 6 pounds. But, in spite of the eulogies of Pierce Egan—a low-caste Irishman, who was first a compositor, then a comedian, and afterwards a newspaper reporter (see Grantley Berkeley’s ‘My Life and Recollections’, vol. i. pp. 107, 108)—Gregson had no science, and depended only on his strength, courage, and endurance. He was beaten by Gully at Six Mile Bottom in 1807, and again in 1808 at Markyate Street; also by Tom Cribb at Moulsey Hurst in 1808 (’Pugilistica’, vol. i. pp. 237-241). Failing as landlord of the Castle, he set up a school of boxing at Dublin, where he afterwards kept “the Punch House,” in Moor Street. He died at Liverpool in 1824. According to Egan (’Boxiana’, vol. i. pp. 357, 358), Gregson “united Pugilism with Poetry.” On this claim he adopted the letters “P.P.” after his name. Egan gives some of his doggerel among “Prime Chaunts for the Fancy” (’ibid’., p. 358). Moore, in ’Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress’, attributes to him his “Lines to Miss Grace Maddox” (pp. 75-77); “Ya-Hip, my Hearties!” (pp. 80-83); and “The Annual Pill” (pp. 84-86).] 109.—To John Hanson. Newstead Abbey, Jan. 15th, 1809. My Dear Sir,—I am much obliged by your kind invitation, but I wish you, if possible, to be here on the 22nd. [1] Your presence will be of great service, everything is prepared for your reception exactly as if I remained, and I think Hargreaves will be gratified by the appearance of the place, and the humours of the day. I shall on the first opportunity pay my respects to your family, and though I will not trespass on your hospitality on the 22nd, my obligation is not less for your agreeable offer, which on any other occasion would be immediately accepted, but I wish you much to be present at the festivities, and I hope you will add Charles to the party. Consider, as the Courtier says in the tragedy of Tom Thumb [2]— “This is a day; your
Majesties may boast of it, I shall take my seat as soon as circumstances will admit. I have not yet chosen my side in politics, nor shall I hastily commit myself with professions, or pledge my support to any men or measures, but though I shall not run headlong into opposition, I will studiously avoid a connection with ministry. I cannot say that my opinion is strongly in favour of either party; [3] on the one side we have the late underlings of Pitt, possessing all his ill fortune, without his talents; this may render their failure more excusable, but will not diminish the public contempt; on the other, we have the ill-assorted fragments of a worn-out minority; Mr. Windham with his coat twice turned, and my Lord Grenville who perhaps has more sense than he can make good use of; between the two and the shuttlecock of both, a Sidmouth, and the general football Sir F. Burdett, kicked at by all, and owned by none. I shall stand aloof, speak what I think, but not often, nor too soon. I will preserve my independence, if possible, but if involved with a party, I will take care not to be the last or least in the ranks. As to patriotism, the word is obsolete, perhaps improperly, so, for all men in the Country are patriots, knowing that their own existence must stand or fall with the Constitution, yet everybody thinks he could alter it for the better, and govern a people, who are in fact easily governed, but always claim the privilege of grumbling. So much for Politics, of which I at present know little and care less; bye and bye, I shall use the senatorial privilege of talking, and indeed in such times, and in such a crew, it must be difficult to hold one’s tongue. Believe me, etc., BYRON. [Footnote 1: Byron’s coming of age was celebrated at Newstead on January 22, 1809.] [Footnote 2: See O’Hara’s acting version of Fielding’s Tom Thumb the Great, act i. sc. I— “Doodle. A Day
we never saw before; Noodle. That you may
say, [Footnote 3: Lord Grenville (1759-1834) became First Lord of the Treasury; Lord Sidmouth, Lord Privy Seal; and William Windham, Secretary for War, in February, 1806. They, with Fox and his friends, formed the administration of “All the Talents,” which in March, 1807, fell over the Roman Catholic question. They were succeeded by the Duke of Portland’s Ministry, which included the “late underlings of Pitt,”—Perceval, Canning, Dundas, etc. “Weathercock” Windham, in the Ministry of “All the Talents,” was responsible for the conduct of a war which, as leader of the so-called “New Opposition,” he had vigorously opposed. Sir Francis Burdett’s zeal for Parliamentary Reform involved him in hostility to both Whigs and Tories, who had combined to exclude him from Parliament after his election for Middlesex (1802-6). In 1807 he had been elected for Westminster.] 110.—To R. C. Dallas. Reddish’s Hotel, Jan. 25, 1809. My Dear Sir,—My only reason for not adopting your lines is because they are your lines. [1] You will recollect that Lady Wortley Montague said to Pope: “No touching, for the good will be given to you, and the bad attributed to me.” I am determined it shall be all my own, except such alterations as may be absolutely required; but I am much obliged by the trouble you have taken, and your good opinion. The couplet on Lord C. [2] may be scratched
out and the following Roscommon! Sheffield!
with your spirits fled, This will answer the purpose of concealment.
Now for some couplets on There be who say, in these
enlightened days, I am sorry to differ with you with regard to the title, [4] but I mean to retain it with this addition: The British [the word “British” is struck through] English Bards and Scotch Reviewers; and if we call it a Satire, it will obviate the objection, as the Bards also were Welch. Your title is too humorous;—and as I know a little of——, I wish not to embroil myself with him, though I do not commend his treatment of——. I shall be glad to hear from you or see you, and beg you to believe me, Yours very sincerely, BYRON. [Footnote 1: Dallas (January 24, 1809) takes “the liberty of sending you some two dozen lines,” etc.] [Footnote 2: The couplet on Lord Carlisle, as it stood in ‘British Bards’, was— “On one alone Apollo deigns to smile, (See ‘English Bards, etc.’, lines 723, ‘et seqq.’; see also line 927, note 2. For Lord Carlisle, see page 36, note 2.)] [Footnote 3: For “Gifford, Sotheby, Macneil,” see ’English Bards, etc’., line 818, and ‘notes’. Dallas had written (January 24, 1809), “I am sorry you have not found a place among the genuine sons of Apollo for Crabbe, who, in spite of something bordering on servility in his dedication, may surely rank with some you have admitted to his temple” (see ’English Bards, etc’., lines 849-858).] [Footnote 4: Dallas suggested as a title, ’The Parish Poor of Parnassus’.] 111.—To R. C. Dallas. February 7, 1809. My Dear Sir,—Suppose we have this couplet— Though sweet the sound, disdain
a borrow’d tone, or, Though soft the echo, scorn
a borrow’d tone, So much for your admonition; but my note
of notes, my solitary pun, “Let mightiest of all
the beasts of chace come against me; my annotation must stand. We shall never sell a thousand; then why print so many? Did you receive my yesterday’s note? I am troubling you, but I am apprehensive some of the lines are omitted by your young amanuensis, to whom, however, I am infinitely obliged. Believe me, yours very truly, BYRON. [Footnote 1: Dallas (February 6, 1809) objected to the rhyme in the couplet:— “Translation’s servile work
at length disown, (For the corrected couplet, see ’English Bards, etc’., lines 889, 890.)] [Footnote 2: See ‘English Bards, etc.’, line 1016, note 2.] 112.—To R. C. Dallas. February 11, 1809. I wish you to call, if possible, as I
have some alterations to suggest B. [Footnote 1: See ‘ibid.’, line 524, note 2.] 113.—To R. C. Dallas. February 12, 1809. Excuse the trouble, but I have added two
lines which are necessary to ..........in his age His scenes alone had damn’d our singing stage; But Managers for once cried, “hold, enough!” Nor drugg’d their audience with the tragic stuff! Yours, etc., B. [Footnote 1: See ‘ibid.’, lines 733-736. Another letter, written February 15, 1809, runs as follows:— “I wish you much to call on me,
about One, not later, if convenient, Believe me, etc., B.”] 114.—To R. C. Dallas. February 16, 1809. Ecce iterum Crispinus!—I
send you some lines to be placed after Believe me, etc., B. P.S.—Print soon, or I shall overflow with more rhyme. [Footnote 1: See ‘English Bards, etc.’, lines 819-830.] 115.—To R. C. Dallas. February 19, 1809. I enclose some lines to be inserted, the
first six after “Lords too “Ah! who would take their titles with their rhymes.” The four next will wind up the panegyric
on Lord Carlisle, and come Yours truly. In these our times with daily wonders big, A letter’d Peer is like a letter’d Pig: Both know their alphabet, but who from thence Infers that Peers or Pigs have manly sense? Still less that such should woo the graceful Nine? Parnassus was not made for Lords and Swine. Roscommon, Sheffield, etc., etc. ... ... tragic stuff. Yet at their judgment let his Lordship laugh, And case his volumes in congenial calf: Yes, doff that covering where morocco shines, “And hang a calf-skin on those recreant” lines. [Footnote 1: See ‘ibid.’, lines 736-740.] 116.—To R. C. Dallas. February 22, 1809. A cut at the opera.—Ecce signum! from last night’s observation, and inuendos against the Society for the Suppression of Vice. [1] The lines will come well in after the couplets concerning Naldi and Catalani! [2] Yours truly, BYRON. [Footnote 1: See ‘English Bards, etc.’, lines 618-631, note 1, for the “cut at the opera.” The piece which provoked the outburst was ’I Villegiatori Rezzani’, at the King’s Theatre, February 21, 1809. Guiseppe Naldi (1770-1820) made his ‘début’ in London, at the King’s Theatre, in April, 1806. (For further details, see ’English Bards, etc.’, line 613, note 2.) Angelica Catalani, born at Sinigaglia, in 1779, or, according to some authorities, 1785, came out at Venice, in an opera by Nasolini. She sang in many capitals of Europe, married at Lisbon a French officer named Vallabrègue, and came to London in October, 1806. The salary paid her was a cause of the O. P. riots at Covent Garden in 1809, when one of the cries was, “No foreigners! No Catalani!” A series of caricatures, one set by Isaac Cruikshank, and several medals, commemorate the riots. Madame Catalani died at Paris in 1849.] [Footnote 2: See ‘English Bards, etc.’, lines 632-637.] 117.—To his Mother. 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, [1] 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, for 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. Hanson 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 [2] 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 Carlisle 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, etc. P.S.—You shall have a mortgage on one of the farms. [3] [Footnote 1: Captain Charles John Cary, R.N., succeeded his brother Thomas in 1796 as ninth Lord Falkland. He married, in 1803, Miss Anton, the daughter of a West India merchant. He had been recently dismissed from his ship “on account of some irregularities arising from too free a circulation of the bottle.” But he had received a promise of being reinstated, and, in high spirits at the prospect, dined one evening in March, 1809, at Stevens’s Coffeehouse, in Bond Street. There he applied to Mr. Powell an offensive nickname. “He lost his life for a joke, and one too he did not make himself” (Medwin, ‘Conversations’, ed. 1825, p. 66). A challenge resulted. The parties met on Goldar’s Green, and Falkland, mortally wounded, died two days later in Powell’s house in Devonshire Place, on March 7, 1809. (’Annual Register’, vol. li. pp. 449, 450.) For a more detailed account, see ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for March, 1809. Both accounts give March 7 as the date of Falkland’s death. A posthumous child was born to Lady Falkland. Byron stood godfather, and gave £500 at the christening. [Footnote 2: Byron took his seat in the House of Lords, March 13, 1809. The delay was caused by the difficulty of proving the marriage of Admiral the Hon. John Byron with Miss Sophia Trevanion in the private chapel of Carhais. Probably Carlisle neither possessed nor withheld any information.] [Footnote 3: Byron had borrowed £1000 for his return to Cambridge in 1807: £200 from Messrs. Wylde and Co., bankers, of Southwell; and the remainder from the Misses Parkyns, and his great-aunt, the Hon. Mrs. George Byron. For this debt his mother made herself liable. No mortgage was given (see page 221 [Letter 121], [Foot]note 2 118.—To William Harness. 8, St. James’s Street, March 18, 1809. There was no necessity for your excuses: if you have time and inclination to write, “for what we receive, the Lord make us thankful,”—if I do not hear from you, I console myself with the idea that you are much more agreeably employed. I send down to you by this post a certain Satire lately published, and in return for the three and sixpence expenditure upon it, only beg that if you should guess the author, you will keep his name secret; at least for the present. London is full of the Duke’s business. [1] The Commons have been at it these last three nights, and are not yet come to a decision. I do not know if the affair will be brought before our House, unless in the shape of an impeachment. If it makes its appearance in a debatable form, I believe I shall be tempted to say something on the subject.—I am glad to hear you like Cambridge: firstly, because, to know that you are happy is pleasant to one who wishes you all possible sublunary enjoyment; and, secondly, I admire the morality of the sentiment. Alma Mater was to me injusta noverca; and the old beldam only gave me my M.A. degree because she could not avoid it. [2]—You know what a farce a noble Cantab. must perform. I am going abroad, if possible, in the spring, and before I depart I am collecting the pictures of my most intimate school-fellows; I have already a few, and shall want yours, or my cabinet will be incomplete. I have employed one of the first miniature painters [3] of the day to take them, of course, at my own expense, as I never allow my acquaintance to incur the least expenditure to gratify a whim of mine. To mention this may seem indelicate; but when I tell you a friend of ours first refused to sit, under the idea that he was to disburse on the occasion, you will see that it is necessary to state these preliminaries to prevent the recurrence of any similar mistake. I shall see you in time, and will carry you to the ‘limner’. It will be a tax on your patience for a week; but pray excuse it, as it is possible the resemblance may be the sole trace I shall be able to preserve of our past friendship and acquaintance. Just now it seems foolish enough; but in a few years, when some of us are dead, and others are separated by inevitable circumstances, it will be a kind of satisfaction to retain in these images of the living the idea of our former selves, and, to contemplate, in the resemblances of the dead, all that remains of judgment, feeling, and a host of passions. But all this will be dull enough for you, and so good night; and, to end my chapter, or rather my homily, Believe me, my dear H., yours most affectionately, [Footnote 1: This was the inquiry into the charges made by Colonel Gwyllym Wardle, M.P. for Okehampton (1807-12), against the Duke of York and his mistress, Mary Ann Clarke. The inquiry began January 27, 1809, and ended March 20, 1809, with the duke’s resignation, the Commons having previously (March 17) acquitted him of “personal connivance and corruption.” The case has passed into literature. Wardle, the valorous Dowler, and Lowten, Mr. Perker’s clerk, had all figured in the trial before they played their parts in ‘Pickwick’. Wardle, who was a colonel of the Welsh Fusiliers (“Wynne’s Lambs”) had fought at Vinegar Hill. After losing his seat, he took a farm between Tunbridge Wells and Rochester, from which he fled to escape his creditors, and died at Florence, November 30, 1834, aged seventy-two.] [Footnote 2: Byron took his M.A. degree, July 4, 1808. In another letter to Harness, dated February, 1809, he says, “I do not know how you and Alma Mater agree. I was but an untoward child myself, and I believe the good lady and her brat were equally rejoiced when I was weaned, and if I obtained her benediction at parting, it was, at best, equivocal.”] [Footnote 3: George Sanders (1774-1846) painted miniatures, made watercolour copies of continental master-pieces, and afterwards became a portrait-painter in oils. He painted several portraits of Byron, two of which have been often engraved.] 119.—To William Bankes. Twelve o’clock, Friday night. My Dear Bankes,—I have just received your note; believe me I regret most sincerely that I was not fortunate enough to see it before, as I need not repeat to you that your conversation for half an hour would have been much more agreeable to me than gambling [1] or drinking, or any other fashionable mode of passing an evening abroad or at home.—I really am very sorry that I went out previous to the arrival of your despatch: in future pray let me hear from you before six, and whatever my engagements may be, I will always postpone them.—Believe me, with that deference which I have always from my childhood paid to your talents, and with somewhat a better opinion of your heart than I have hitherto entertained, Yours ever, etc. [Footnote 1: “I learn with delight,” writes Hobhouse from Cambridge, May 12, 1808, “from Scrope Davies, that you have totally given up dice. To be sure you must give it up; for you to be seen every night in the very vilest company in town—could anything be more shocking, anything more unfit? I speak feelingly on this occasion, ‘non ignara mali miseris, &c’. I know of nothing that should bribe me to be present once more at such horrible scenes. Perhaps ’tis as well that we are both acquainted with the extent of the evil, that we may be the more earnest in abstaining from it. You shall henceforth be ’Diis animosus hostis’.” Moore quotes (’Life’, p. 86) the following extract from Byron’s ’Journal’:— “I have a notion that gamblers are as happy as many people, being always excited. Women, wine, fame, the table,—even ambition, sate now and then; but every turn of the card and cast of the dice keeps the gamester alive: besides, one can game ten times longer than one can do any thing else. I was very fond of it when young, that is to say, of hazard, for I hate all card games,—even faro. When macco (or whatever they spell it) was introduced, I gave up the whole thing, for I loved and missed the rattle and dash of the box and dice, and the glorious uncertainty, not only of good luck or bad luck, but of any luck at all, as one had sometimes to throw often to decide at all. I have thrown as many as fourteen mains running, and carried off all the cash upon the table occasionally; but I had no coolness, or judgment, or calculation. It was the delight of the thing that pleased me. Upon the whole, I left off in time, without being much a winner or loser. Since one-and-twenty years of age I played but little, and then never above a hundred, or two, or three.”] 120.—To R. C. Dallas. April 25, 1809. Dear Sir,—I am just arrived at Batt’s Hotel, Jermyn Street, St. James’s, from Newstead, and shall be very glad to see you when convenient or agreeable. Hobhouse is on his way up to town, full of printing resolution, [1] and proof against criticism.—Believe me, with great sincerity, Yours truly, BYRON. [Footnote 1: See page 163 [Letter 86], [Foot]note 1. Hobhouse’s miscellany was published in 1809, under the title of ’Imitations and Translations from the Antient and Modern Classics: Together with Original Poems never before published’.] 121.—To John Hanson. Batt’s Hotel, Jermyn Street, April 26th, 1809. DEAR SIR,—I wish to know before I make my final effort elsewhere, if you can or cannot assist me in raising a sum of money on fair and equitable terms and immediately. [1] I called twice this morning, and beg you will favour me with an answer when convenient. I hope all your family are well. I should like to see them together before my departure. The Court of Chancery it seems will not pay the money, of which indeed I do not know the precise amount; the Duke of Portland will not pay his debt, and with the Rochdale property nothing is done.—My debts are daily increasing, and it is with difficulty I can command a shilling. As soon as possible I shall get quit of this country, but I wish to do justice to my creditors (though I do not like their importunity), and particularly to my securities, for their annuities must be paid off soon, or the interest will swallow up everything. Come what may, in every shape and in any shape, I can meet ruin, but I will never sell Newstead; the Abbey and I shall stand or fall together, and, were my head as grey and defenceless as the Arch of the Priory, I would abide by this resolution. The whole of my wishes are summed up in this; procure me, either of my own or borrowed of others, three thousand pounds, and place two in Hammersley’s hands for letters of credit at Constantinople; if possible sell Rochdale in my absence, pay off these annuities and my debts, and with the little that remains do as you will, but allow me to depart from this cursed country, and I promise to turn Mussulman, rather than return to it. Believe me to be, Yours truly, BYRON. P.S.—Is my will finished?
I should like to sign it while I have [Footnote 1: Money was obtained, partly by means of a life insurance effected with the Provident Institution. The medical report, signed by Benjamin Hutchinson, F.R.C.S., London, states that Hutchinson had attended Byron for the last four or five years; that he was, when last seen by Hutchinson, in very good health; that he never was afflicted with any serious malady; that he was sober and temperate; that he “sometimes used much exercise, and at others was of a studious and sedentary turn;” and thus concludes: “I do believe that he possesses an unimpaired, healthy constitution, and I am not aware of any circumstance which may be considered as tending to shorten his life.” Mrs. Byron (April 9, 1809) begs Hanson to see that Byron gave some security for the thousand pounds for which she was bound. She adds: “There is some Trades People at Nottingham that will be completely ruined if he does not pay them, which I would not have happen for the whole world.” No security seems to have been given, and the tradesmen remained unpaid. Mrs. Byron’s death was doubtless accelerated by anxiety from these causes.] 122.-To the Rev. R. Lowe. [1] 8, St. James Street, May 15, 1809. MY DEAR SIR,—I have just been informed that a report is circulating in Notts of an intention on my part to sell Newstead, which is rather unfortunate, as I have just tied the property up in such a manner as to prevent the practicability, even if my inclination led me to dispose of it. But as such a report may render my tenants uncomfortable, I will feel very much obliged if you will be good enough to contradict the rumour, should it come to your ears, on my authority. I rather conjecture it has arisen from the sale of some copyholds of mine in Norfolk. [2] I sail for Gibraltar in June, and thence to Malta when, of course, you shall have the promised detail. I saw your friend Thornhill last night, who spoke of you as a friend ought to do. Excuse this trouble, and believe me to be, with great sincerity, Yours affectionately, BYRON. [Footnote 1. The Rev. Robert Lowe was some years older than Byron, and had known him intimately at Southwell in his early youth. Miss Pigot was a cousin of Mr. Lowe, as was also the Rev. J. T. Becher of Southwell. Mrs. Chaworth Musters, who contributed this letter to ’The Life and Letters of Viscount Sherbrooke’ (vol. i. p. 46), adds that her grandfather was, naturally, excessively annoyed at having been made the mouthpiece of an untruth, and that the coolness which arose in consequence lasted up to the end of Byron’s life. There can, however, be no doubt that Byron made the statement in all sincerity.] [Footnote 2: At Wymondham.]
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