For Byron's Rochdale property, which was supposed to
contain a quantity of coal, see
Letters
, vol. i. p. 78,
note
2. [Footnote 2 of Letter 34]
Gifford.
For John Cam Hobhouse, see
Letters
, vol. i. p. 163,
note
1. [Footnote 1 of Letter 86]
The poem remained unpublished till after Byron's death.
(See
, p. 23, and
Poems
, ed. 1898, vol. i. pp.
385-450.)
"In Seaham churchyard, without any memorial," says Mr. Surtees, "rest
the remains of Joseph Blacket, an unfortunate child of genius, whose
last days were soothed by the generous attention of the family of
Milbanke."
Hist. of Durham
, vol. i. p. 272. (See also
Letters
, vol.
i. p. 314,
note
2 [Footnote 2 of Letter 154]. For Miss Milbanke, afterwards Lady Byron, see
p. 118,
note
4.) [Footnote 1 of Letter 7]
On July 28, 1811, Lord Grenville wrote to Lord Auckland,
"It is, I believe, certainly true that the King has taken for the last
three days scarcely any food at all, and that, unless a change takes
place very shortly in that respect, he cannot survive many days"
(A
uckland Correspondence
, vol. iv. p. 366).
It was, however, the
mind, and not the physical strength that failed.
"The King, I should suppose," wrote Lord Buckinghamshire, on August
13, "is not likely to die soon, but I fear his mental recovery is
hardly to be expected "
(
ibid
., vol. iv. p. 367).
George III. never, except for brief
intervals, recovered his reason.
For C. S. Matthews, see
Letters
, vol. i. p. 150,
note
3.[Footnote 2 of Letter 84]
List of Letters
Contents
Newstead Abbey, Aug. 27, 1811.
I was so sincere in my note on the late Charles Matthews, and do feel
myself so totally unable to do justice to his talents, that the passage
must stand for the very reason you bring against it. To him all the men
I ever knew were pigmies. He was an intellectual giant.
is true I
loved Wingfield
better; he was the earliest and the dearest, and one
of the few one could never repent of having loved: but in ability—ah!
you did not know Matthews!
Childe Harold
may wait and welcome—books are never the worse for
delay in the publication.
you have got our heir, George Anson Byron
, and his
sister, with you.
may say what you please, but you are one of the
murderers
of
Blackett, and yet you won't allow Harry White's genius
.
Setting aside his bigotry, he surely ranks next Chatterton. It is
astonishing how little he was known; and at Cambridge no one thought or
heard of such a man till his death rendered all notice useless. For my
own part, I should have been most proud of such an acquaintance: his
very prejudices were respectable.
is a sucking epic poet at
Granta, a Mr. Townsend
,
protégé
of the late Cumberland. Did
you ever hear of him and his
Armageddon
? I think his plan (the
man I don't know) borders on the sublime: though, perhaps, the
anticipation of the "Last Day" (according to you Nazarenes) is a little
too daring: at least, it looks like telling the Lord what he is to do,
and might remind an ill-natured person of the line,
"And fools rush in where angels fear to tread."
But I don't mean to cavil, only other folks will, and he may bring all
the lambs of Jacob Behmen about his ears. However, I hope he will bring
it to a conclusion, though Milton is in his way.
Write to me—I dote on gossip—and make a bow to Ju—, and shake George
by the hand for me; but, take care, for he has a sad sea paw.
P.S.—I would ask George here, but I don't know how to amuse him—all my
horses were sold when I left England, and I have not had time to replace
them. Nevertheless, if he will come down and shoot in September, he will
be very welcome: but he must bring a gun, for I gave away all mine to
Ali Pacha, and other Turks. Dogs, a keeper, and plenty of game, with a
very large manor, I have—a lake, a boat, houseroom, and
neat
wines
.
Dallas, writing to Byron, August 18, 1811, had said,
"I have been reading the Remains of Kirke White, and find that
you have to answer for misleading me. He does not, in my opinion,
merit the high praise you have bestowed upon him."
Writing again, August 26, he objected to the
note
on Matthews in
Childe Harold
:
"In your note, as it stands, it strikes me that the eulogy on Matthews
is a little at the expense of Wingfield and others whom you
have commemorated. I should think it quite enough to say that
his Powers and Attainments were above all praise, without expressly
admitting them to be above that of a Muse who soars high in the praise
of others."
For Wingfield, see
Letters
, vol. i, p. 180,
note
1. [Footnote 2 of Letter 92]
For George Anson Byron, afterwards Lord Byron, and his sister
Julia, see
Letters
, vol. i, p. 188,
note
1. [Footnote 1 of Letter 96]
For H. K. White, see
Letters
, vol. i, p. 336,
note
2. [Footnote 3 of Letter 167]
The Rev. George Townsend (1788-1857) of Trinity College,
Cambridge, published
Poems
in 1810, and eight books of his
Armageddon
in 1815. The remaining four books were never
published. Townsend became a Canon of Durham in 1825, and held the stall
till his death in 1857. Richard Cumberland, dramatist, novelist, and
essayist (1732-1811), the "Sir Fretful Plagiary" of
The Critic
,
announced the forthcoming poem in the
London Review
; but, as
Townsend says, in the Preface to
Armageddon
, praised him "too
abundantly and prematurely." "My talents," he adds, "were neither equal
to my own ambition, nor his zeal to serve me." (See
Hints from
Horace
, lines 191-212, and Byron's
note
to line 191,
Poems
, ed. 1898, vol. i. p. 403.)
List of Letters
Contents
Newstead Abbey, August 30th, 1811.
My Dear Augusta,—The embarrassments you mention in your last letter I
never heard of before, but that disease is epidemic in our family.
Neither have I been apprised of any of the changes at which you hint,
indeed how should I? On the borders of the Black Sea, we heard only of
the Russians. So you have much to tell, and all will be novelty.
don't know what Scrope Davies
meant by telling you I liked
Children, I abominate the sight of them so much that I have always had
the greatest respect for the character of Herod. But, as my house here
is large enough for us all, we should go on very well, and I need not
tell you that I long to see
you
. I really do not perceive any
thing so formidable in a Journey hither of two days, but all this comes
of Matrimony, you have a Nurse and all the etceteras of a family. Well,
I must marry to repair the ravages of myself and prodigal ancestry, but
if I am ever so unfortunate as to be presented with an Heir, instead of
a
Rattle
he shall be provided with a
Gag
.
I shall perhaps be able to accept D's invitation to Cambridge, but I
fear my stay in Lancashire will be prolonged, I proceed there in the 2d
week in Septr to arrange my coal concerns, & then if I can't persuade
some wealthy dowdy to ennoble the dirty puddle of her mercantile
Blood,—why—I shall leave England and all it's clouds for the East
again; I am very sick of it already. Joe
has
getting well
of a disease that would have killed a troop of horse; he promises to
bear away the palm of longevity from old Parr. As you won't come, you
will write; I
to hear all those unutterable things, being utterly
unable to guess at any of them, unless they concern
your
relative
the Thane of Carlisle
, though I had great hopes we had done with
him.
I have little to add that you do not already know, and being quite
alone, have no great variety of incident to gossip with; I am but rarely
pestered with visiters, and the few I have I get rid of as soon as
possible. I will now take leave of you in the Jargon of 1794. "Health &
Fraternity!"
Yours alway, B.
For the Hon. Augusta Leigh, see
Letters
, vol. i. p.
18,
note
1. [Footnote 1 of Letter 7] Byron's letter is in answer to the following from his
half-sister:
"6 Mile Bottom, Aug. 27th.
"My Dearest Brother,—Your letter was stupidly sent to Town to me on
Sunday, from whence I arrived at home yesterday; consequently I have
not received it so soon as I ought to have done. I feel so very happy
to have the pleasure of hearing from you that I will not delay a
moment answering it, altho' I am in all the delights of
unpacking, and afraid of being too late for the Post.
"I have been a fortnight in Town, and went up on my eldest
little girl's account. She had been very unwell for some time, and I
could not feel happy till I had better advice than this neighbourhood
affords. She is, thank Heaven! much better, and I hope in a fair way
to be quite herself again. Mr. Davies flattered me by saying
she was exactly the sort of child you would delight in. I am
determined not to say another word in her praise for fear you should
accuse me of partiality and expect too much. The youngest
(little Augusta) is just 6 months old, and has no particular
merit at present but a very sweet placid temper.
"Oh! that I could immediately set out to Newstead and shew them to
you. I can't tell you half the happiness it would give me to
see it and you; but, my dearest B., it is a long journey and
serious undertaking all things considered. Mr. Davies writes me word
you promise to make him a visit bye and bye; pray do, you can
then so easily come here. I have set my heart upon it. Consider how
very long it is since I've seen you.
"I have indeed much to tell you; but it is more easily
said than written. Probably you have heard of many
changes in our situation since you left England; in a pecuniary
point of view it is materially altered for the worse; perhaps in other
respects better. Col. Leigh has been in Dorsetshire and Sussex during
my stay in Town. I expect him at home towards the end of this week,
and hope to make him acquainted with you ere long.
"I have not time to write half I have to say, for my letter must go;
but I prefer writing in a hurry to not writing at all. You can't think
how much I feel for your griefs and losses, or how much and constantly
I have thought of you lately. I began a letter to you in Town, but
destroyed it, from the fear of appearing troublesome. There are times,
I know, when one cannot write with any degree of comfort or
satisfaction. I intend to do so again shortly, so I hope yon won't
think me a bore.
Remember me most kindly to Old Joe. I rejoice to hear of his health
and prosperity. Your letter (some parts of it at least) made me laugh.
I am so very glad to hear you have sufficiently overcome your
prejudices against the fair sex to have determined upon
marrying; but I shall be most anxious that my future Belle
Soeur should have more attractions than merely money, though to be
sure that is somewhat necessary. I have not another moment,
dearest B., so forgive me if I write again very soon, and believe me,
Your most affec'tn Sister, A. L.
Do write if you can."
For Scrope Berdmore Davies, see
Letters
, vol. i. p.
165,
note
2. [Footnote 2 of Letter 86] The following story is told of him by Byron, in a
passage of his
Detached Thoughts
(Ravenna, 1821):
"One night Scrope Davies at a Gaming house (before I was of age), being
tipsy as he usually was at the Midnight hour, and having lost monies,
was in vain intreated by his friends, one degree less intoxicated than
himself, to come or go home. In despair, he was left to himself and to
the demons of the dice-box.
Next day, being visited about two of the Clock, by some friends just
risen with a severe headache and empty pockets (who had left him losing
at four or five in the morning), he was found in a sound sleep, without
a night-cap, and not particularly encumbered with bed-cloathes: a
Chamber-pot stood by his bed-side, brim-full of—-Bank Notes!,
all won, God knows how, and crammed, Scrope knew not where; but There
they were, all good legitimate notes, and to the amount of some thousand
pounds."
For Joe Murray, see
Letters
, vol. i. p. 21,
note
3. [Footnote 4 of Letter 7]
For the Earl of Carlisle, see
Letters
, vol. i. p.
36,
note
2. [Footnote 3 of Letter 13]
List of Letters
Contents
174—To the Hon. Augusta Leigh
Newstead Abbey, Aug'st 30th, 1811.
My Dear Augusta
,—I wrote to you yesterday, and as you will not be very
sorry to hear from me again, considering our long separation, I shall
fill up this sheet before I go to bed. I have heard something of a
quarrel between your spouse and the Prince, I don't wish to pry into
family secrets or to hear anything more of the matter, but I can't help
regretting on your account that so long an intimacy should be dissolved
at the very moment when your husband might have derived some advantage
from his R. H.'s friendship. However, at all events, and in all
Situations, you have a brother in me, and a home here.
I am led into this train of thinking by a part of your letter which
hints at pecuniary losses. I know how delicate one ought to be on such
subjects, but you are probably the only being on Earth
now
interested in my welfare, certainly the only relative, and I should be
very ungrateful if I did not feel the obligation. You must excuse my
being a little cynical, knowing how my
temper
was tried in my
Non-age; the manner in which I was brought up must necessarily have
broken a meek Spirit, or rendered a fiery one ungovernable; the effect
it has had on mine I need not state.
However, buffeting with the World has brought me a little to reason, and
two years travel in distant and barbarous countries has accustomed me to
bear privations, and consequently to laugh at many things which would
have made me angry before. But I am wandering —in short I only want to
assure you that I love you, and that you must not think I am
indifferent, because I don't shew my affection in the usual way.
Pray can't you contrive to pay me a visit between this and Xmas? or
shall I carry you down with me from Cambridge, supposing it practicable
for me to come? You will do what you please, without our interfering
with each other; the premises are so delightfully extensive, that two
people might live together without ever seeing, hearing or meeting,—but
I can't feel the comfort of this till I marry. In short it would be the
most amiable matrimonial mansion, and that is another great inducement
to my plan,—my wife and I shall be so happy,—one in each Wing. If this
description won't make you come, I can't tell what will, you must please
yourself. Good night, I have to walk half a mile to my Bed chamber.
Yours ever,
Byron
.
List of Letters<
Contents/p>
175—To James Wedderburn Webster
Newstead Abbey, Notts., Aug'st 31st, 1811.
My Dear W.
,—I send you back your friend's letter, and, though I don't
agree with his Canons of Criticism, they are not the worse for that.
friend Hodgson
is not much honoured by the comparison to the
Pursuits of L.
, which is notoriously, as far as the
poetry
goes, the worst written of its kind; the World has been long but of one
opinion, viz. that it's sole merit lies in the Notes, which are
indisputably excellent.
Had Hodgson's "Alterative" been placed with the
Baviad
the
compliment had been higher to both; for, surely, the
Baviad
is as
much superior to H.'s poem, as I do firmly believe H.'s poem to be to
the
Pursuits of Literature
.
Your correspondent talks for talking's sake when he says "Lady J. Grey"
is neither "Epic, dramatic, or legendary." Who ever said it was "epic"
or "dramatic"? he might as well say his letter was neither "epic or
dramatic;" the poem makes no pretensions to either character.
"Legendary" it certainly is, but what has that to do with its merits?
All stories of that kind founded on facts are in a certain degree
legendary, but they may be well or ill written without the smallest
alteration in that respect. When Mr. Hare prattles about the "Economy,"
etc., he sinks sadly;—all such expressions are the mere cant of a
schoolboy hovering round the Skirts of Criticism.
Hodgson's tale is one of the best efforts of his Muse, and Mr. H.'s
approbation must be of more consequence, before any body will reduce it
to a "Scale," or be much affected by "the place" he "assigns" to the
productions of a man like Hodgson.
But I have said more than I intended and only beg you never to allow
yourself to be imposed upon by such "common place" as the 6th form
letter you sent me. Judge for yourself.
I
the Mr. Bankes