Are the very laws passed in their favour observed? They are rendered
nugatory in trivial as in serious cases. By a late Act, Catholic
chaplains are permitted in gaols; but in Fermanagh county the grand jury
lately persisted in presenting a suspended clergyman for the office,
thereby evading the statute, notwithstanding the most pressing
remonstrances of a most respectable magistrate named Fletcher to the
contrary. Such is law, such is justice, for the happy, free, contented
Catholic!
It has been asked, in another place, Why do not the rich Catholics endow
foundations for the education of the priesthood? Why do you not permit
them to do so? Why are all such bequests subject to the interference,
the vexatious, arbitrary, peculating interference of the Orange
commissioners for charitable donations?
As to Maynooth college, in no instance, except at the time of its
foundation, when a noble Lord (Camden), at the head of the Irish
administration, did appear to interest himself in its advancement, and
during the government of a noble Duke (Bedford), who, like his
ancestors, has ever been the friend of freedom and mankind, and who has
not so far adopted the selfish policy of the day as to exclude the
Catholics from the number of his fellow-creatures; with these
exceptions, in no instance has that institution been properly
encouraged. There was indeed a time when the Catholic clergy were
conciliated, while the Union was pending, that Union which could not be
carried without them, while their assistance was requisite in procuring
addresses from the Catholic counties; then they were cajoled and
caressed, feared and flattered, and given to understand that "the Union
would do every thing"; but the moment it was passed, they were driven
back with contempt into their former obscurity.
In the conduct pursued towards Maynooth college, every thing is done to
irritate and perplex—every thing is done to efface the slightest
impression of gratitude from the Catholic mind; the very hay made upon
the lawn, the fat and tallow of the beef and mutton allowed, must be
paid for and accounted upon oath. It is true, this economy in
miniature cannot sufficiently be commended, particularly at a time when
only the insect defaulters of the Treasury, your Hunts and your
Chinnerys, when only those "gilded bugs" can escape the microscopic eye
of ministers. But when you come forward, session after session, as your
paltry pittance is wrung from you with wrangling and reluctance, to
boast of your liberality, well might the Catholic exclaim, in the words
of Prior:
"To John I owe some obligation,
But John unluckily thinks fit
To publish it to all the nation,
So John and I are more than quit."
Some persons have compared the Catholics to the beggar in
Gil
Blas
: who made them beggars? Who are enriched with the spoils of
their ancestors? And cannot you relieve the beggar when your fathers
have made him such? If you are disposed to relieve him at all, cannot
you do it without flinging your farthings in his face? As a contrast,
however, to this beggarly benevolence, let us look at the Protestant
Charter Schools; to them you have lately granted £41,000: thus are they
supported; and how are they recruited? Montesquieu observes on the
English constitution, that the model may be found in Tacitus, where the
historian describes the policy of the Germans, and adds, "This beautiful
system was taken from the woods;" so in speaking of the charter schools,
it may be observed, that this beautiful system was taken from the
gipsies. These schools are recruited in the same manner as the
Janissaries at the time of their enrolment under Amurath, and the
gipsies of the present day, with stolen children, with children decoyed
and kidnapped from their Catholic connections by their rich and powerful
Protestant neighbours: this is notorious, and one instance may suffice
to show in what manner:—The sister of a Mr. Carthy (a Catholic
gentleman of very considerable property) died, leaving two girls, who
were immediately marked out as proselytes, and conveyed to the charter
school of Coolgreny; their uncle, on being apprised of the fact, which
took place during his absence, applied for the restitution of his
nieces, offering to settle an independence on these his relations; his
request was refused, and not till after five years' struggle, and the
interference of very high authority, could this Catholic gentleman
obtain back his nearest of kindred from a charity charter school. In
this manner are proselytes obtained, and mingled with the offspring of
such Protestants as may avail themselves of the institution. And how are
they taught? A catechism is put into their hands, consisting of, I
believe, forty-five pages, in which are three questions relative to the
Protestant religion; one of these queries is, "Where was the Protestant
religion before Luther?" Answer: "In the Gospel." The remaining
forty-four pages and a half regard the damnable idolatry of Papists!
Allow me to ask our spiritual pastors and masters, is this training up a
child in the way which he should go? Is this the religion of the Gospel
before the time of Luther? that religion which preaches "Peace on earth,
and glory to God"? Is it bringing up infants to be men or devils? Better
would it be to send them any where than teach them such doctrines;
better send them to those islands in the South Seas, where they might
more humanely learn to become cannibals; it would be less disgusting
that they were brought up to devour the dead, than persecute the living.
Schools do you call them? call them rather dung-hills, where the viper
of intolerance deposits her young, that when their teeth are cut and
their poison is mature, they may issue forth, filthy and venomous, to
sting the Catholic. But are these the doctrines of the Church of
England, or of churchmen? No, the most enlightened churchmen are of a
different opinion. What says Paley?
"I perceive no reason why men of different religious persuasions
should not sit upon the same bench, deliberate in the same council, or
fight in the same ranks, as well as men of various religious opinions
upon any controverted topic of natural history, philosophy, or ethics."
It may be answered, that Paley was not strictly orthodox; I know nothing
of his orthodoxy, but who will deny that he was an ornament to the
church, to human nature, to Christianity?
I shall not dwell upon the grievance of tithes, so severely felt by the
peasantry; but it may be proper to observe, that there is an addition to
the burden, a percentage to the gatherer, whose interest it thus becomes
to rate them as highly as possible, and we know that in many large
livings in Ireland the only resident Protestants are the tithe proctor
and his family.
Amongst many causes of irritation, too numerous for recapitulation,
there is one in the militia not to be passed over,—I mean the existence
of Orange lodges amongst the privates. Can the officers deny this? And
if such lodges do exist, do they, can they tend to promote harmony
amongst the men, who are thus individually separated in society,
although mingled in the ranks? And is this general system of persecution
to be permitted; or is it to be believed that with such a system the
Catholics can or ought to be contented? If they are, they belie human
nature; they are then, indeed, unworthy to be any thing but the slaves
you have made them. The facts stated are from most respectable
authority, or I should not have dared in this place, or any place, to
hazard this avowal. If exaggerated, there are plenty as willing, as I
believe them to be unable, to disprove them. Should it be objected that
I never was in Ireland, I beg leave to observe, that it is as easy to
know something of Ireland, without having been there, as it appears with
some to have been born, bred, and cherished there, and yet remain
ignorant of its best interests.
But there are who assert that the Catholics have already been too much
indulged. See (cry they) what has been done: we have given them one
entire college; we allow them food and raiment, the full enjoyment of
the elements, and leave to fight for us as long as they have limbs and
lives to offer; and yet they are never to be satisfied!—Generous and
just declaimers! To this, and to this only, amount the whole of your
arguments, when stript of their sophistry. Those personages remind me of
a story of a certain drummer, who, being called upon in the course of
duty to administer punishment to a friend tied to the halberts, was
requested to flog high, he did—to flog low, he did—to flog in the
middle, he did,—high, low, down the middle, and up again, but all in
vain; the patient continued his complaints with the most provoking
pertinacity, until the drummer, exhausted and angry, flung down his
scourge, exclaiming, "The devil burn you, there's no pleasing you, flog
where one will!" Thus it is, you have flogged the Catholic high, low,
here, there, and every where, and then you wonder he is not pleased. It
is true that time, experience, and that weariness which attends even the
exercise of barbarity, have taught you to flog a little more gently; but
still you continue to lay on the lash, and will so continue, till
perhaps the rod may be wrested from your hands, and applied to the backs
of yourselves and your posterity.
It was said by somebody in a former debate, (I forget by whom, and am
not very anxious to remember,) if the Catholics are emancipated, why not
the Jews? If this sentiment was dictated by compassion for the Jews, it
might deserve attention, but as a sneer against the Catholic, what is it
but the language of Shylock transferred from his daughter's marriage to
Catholic emancipation:
"Would any of the tribe of Barabbas
Should have it rather than a Christian!"
I presume a Catholic is a Christian, even in the opinion of him whose
taste only can be called in question for his preference of the Jews.
It is a remark often quoted of Dr. Johnson, (whom I take to be almost as
good authority as the gentle apostle of intolerance, Dr. Duigenan,) that
he who could entertain serious apprehensions of danger to the church in
these times, would have "cried fire in the deluge." This is more than a
metaphor; for a remnant of these antediluvians appear actually to have
come down to us, with fire in their mouths and water in their brains, to
disturb and perplex mankind with their whimsical outcries. And as it is
an infallible symptom of that distressing malady with which I conceive
them to be afflicted (so any doctor will inform your Lordships), for the
unhappy invalids to perceive a flame perpetually flashing before their
eyes, particularly when their eyes are shut (as those of the persons to
whom I allude have long been), it is impossible to convince these poor
creatures that the fire against which they are perpetually warning us
and themselves is nothing but an
ignis fatuus
of their own
drivelling imaginations. What rhubarb, senna, or "what purgative drug
can scour that fancy thence?"—It is impossible, they are given
over,—theirs is the true
"Caput insanabile tribus Anticyris."
These are your true Protestants. Like Bayle, who protested against all
sects whatsoever, so do they protest against Catholic petitions,
Protestant petitions, all redress, all that reason, humanity, policy,
justice, and common sense can urge against the delusions of their absurd
delirium. These are the persons who reverse the fable of the mountain
that brought forth a mouse; they are the mice who conceive themselves in
labour with mountains.
To return to the Catholics: suppose the Irish were actually contented
under their disabilities; suppose them capable of such a bull as not to
desire deliverance,—ought we not to wish it for ourselves? Have we
nothing to gain by their emancipation? What resources have been wasted?
What talents have been lost by the selfish system of exclusion? You
already know the value of Irish aid; at this moment the defence of
England is intrusted to the Irish militia; at this moment, while the
starving people are rising in the fierceness of despair, the Irish are
faithful to their trust. But till equal energy is imparted throughout by
the extension of freedom, you cannot enjoy the full benefit of the
strength which you are glad to interpose between you and destruction.
Ireland has done much, but will do more. At this moment the only triumph
obtained through long years of continental disaster has been achieved by
an Irish general: it is true he is not a Catholic; had he been so, we
should have been deprived of his exertions: but I presume no one will
assert that his religion would have impaired his talents or diminished
his patriotism; though, in that case, he must have conquered in the
ranks, for he never could have commanded an army.
But he is fighting the battles of the Catholics abroad; his noble
brother has this night advocated their cause, with an eloquence which I
shall not depreciate by the humble tribute of my panegyric; whilst a
third of his kindred, as unlike as unequal, has been combating against
his Catholic brethren in Dublin, with circular letters, edicts,
proclamations, arrests, and dispersions;—all the vexatious implements
of petty warfare that could be wielded by the mercenary guerillas of
government, clad in the rusty armour of their obsolete statutes. Your
Lordships will doubtless divide new honours between the Saviour of
Portugal, and the Disperser of Delegates. It is singular, indeed, to
observe the difference between our foreign and domestic policy; if
Catholic Spain, faithful Portugal, or the no less Catholic and faithful
king of the one Sicily, (of which, by the by, you have lately deprived
him,) stand in need of succour, away goes a fleet and an army, an
ambassador and a subsidy, sometimes to fight pretty hardly, generally to
negotiate very badly, and always to pay very dearly for our Popish
allies. But let four millions of fellow-subjects pray for relief, who
fight and pay and labour in your behalf, they must be treated as aliens;
and although their "father's house has many mansions," there is no
resting-place for them. Allow me to ask, are you not fighting for the
emancipation of Ferdinand VII, who certainly is a fool, and,
consequently, in all probability a bigot? and have you more regard for a
foreign sovereign than your own fellow-subjects, who are not fools, for
they know your interest better than you know your own; who are not
bigots, for they return you good for evil; but who are in worse durance
than the prison of an usurper, inasmuch as the fetters of the mind are
more galling than those of the body?
Upon the consequences of your not acceding to the claims of the
petitioners, I shall not expatiate; you know them, you will feel them,
and your children's children when you are passed away. Adieu to that
Union so called, as "
Lucus a non lucendo
" an Union from never
uniting, which in its first operation gave a death-blow to the
independence of Ireland, and in its last may be the cause of her eternal
separation from this country. If it must be called an Union, it is the
union of the shark with his prey; the spoiler swallows up his victim,
and thus they become one and indivisible. Thus has great Britain
swallowed up the Parliament, the constitution, the independence of
Ireland, and refuses to disgorge even a single privilege, although for
the relief of her swollen and distempered body politic.
And now, my Lords, before I sit down, will his Majesty's ministers
permit me to say a few words, not on their merits, for that would be
superfluous, but on the degree of estimation in which they are held by
the people of these realms? The esteem in which they are held has been
boasted of in a triumphant tone on a late occasion within these walls,
and a comparison instituted between their conduct and that of noble
lords on this side of the House.
What portion of popularity may have fallen to the share of my noble
friends (if such I may presume to call them), I shall not pretend to
ascertain; but that of his Majesty's ministers it were vain to deny. It
is, to be sure, a little like the wind, "no one knows whence it cometh
or whither it goeth;" but they feel it, they enjoy it, they boast of it.
Indeed, modest and unostentatious as they are, to what part of the
kingdom, even the most remote, can they flee to avoid the triumph which
pursues them? If they plunge into the midland counties, there will they
be greeted by the manufacturers, with spurned petitions in their hands,
and those halters round their necks recently voted in their behalf,
imploring blessings on the heads of those who so simply, yet
ingeniously, contrived to remove them from their miseries in this to a
better world. If they journey on to Scotland, from Glasgow to John o'
Groat's, every where will they receive similar marks of approbation. If
they take a trip from Portpatrick to Donaghadee, there will they rush at
once into the embraces of four Catholic millions, to whom their vote of
this night is about to endear them for ever. When they return to the
metropolis, if they can pass under Temple Bar without unpleasant
sensations at the sight of the greedy niches over that ominous gateway,
they cannot escape the acclamations of the livery, and the more
tremulous, but not less sincere, applause, the blessings, "not loud, but
deep," of bankrupt merchants and doubting stock-holders. If they look to
the army, what wreaths, not of laurel, but of nightshade, are preparing
for the heroes of Walcheren! It is true, there are few living deponents
left to testify to their merits on that occasion; but a "cloud of
witnesses" are gone above from that gallant army which they so
generously and piously despatched, to recruit the "noble army of
martyrs."
What if in the course of this triumphal career (in which they will
gather as many pebbles as Caligula's army did on a similar triumph, the
prototype of their own,) they do not perceive any of those memorials
which a grateful people erect in honour of their benefactors; what
although not even a sign-post will condescend to depose the Saracen's
head in favour of the likeness of the conquerors of Walcheren, they will
not want a picture who can always have a caricature, or regret the
omission of a statue who will so often see themselves exalted into
effigy. But their popularity is not limited to the narrow bounds of an
island; there are other countries where their measures, and, above all,
their conduct to the Catholics, must render them pre-eminently popular.
If they are beloved here, in France they must be adored. There is no
measure more repugnant to the designs and feelings of Bonaparte than
Catholic emancipation; no line of conduct more propitious to his
projects than that which has been pursued, is pursuing, and, I fear,
will be pursued towards Ireland. What is England without Ireland, and
what is Ireland without the Catholics? It is on the basis of your
tyranny Napoleon hopes to build his own. So grateful must oppression of
the Catholics be to his mind, that doubtless (as he has lately permitted
some renewal of intercourse) the next cartel will convey to this country
cargoes of Sevres china and blue ribands, (things in great request, and
of equal value at this moment,) blue ribands of the Legion of Honour for
Dr. Duigenan and his ministerial disciples. Such is that well-earned
popularity, the result of those extraordinary expeditions, so expensive
to ourselves, and so useless to our allies; of those singular inquiries,
so exculpatory to the accused, and so dissatisfactory to the people; of
those paradoxical victories, so honourable, as we are told, to the
British name, and so destructive to the best interests of the British
nation: above all, such is the reward of the conduct pursued by
ministers towards the Catholics.
I have to apologise to the House, who will, I trust, pardon one not
often in the habit of intruding upon their indulgence, for so long
attempting to engage their attention. My most decided opinion is, as my
vote will be, in favour of the motion.
Detailed Contents of Appendices
Contents
3. Debate on Major Cartwright's Petition. June 1,1813.
Lord
Byron
rose and said:
My Lords,—he petition which I now hold for the purpose of presenting to
the House is one which, I humbly conceive, requires the particular
attention of your Lordships, inasmuch as, though signed but by a single
individual, it contains statements which (if not disproved) demand most
serious investigation. The grievance of which the petitioner complains
is neither selfish nor imaginary. It is not his own only, for it has
been and is still felt by numbers. No one without these walls, nor
indeed within, but may to-morrow be made liable to the same insult and
obstruction, in the discharge of an imperious duty for the restoration
of the true constitution of these realms, by petitioning for reform in
Parliament. The petitioner, my Lords, is a man whose long life has been
spent in one unceasing struggle for the liberty of the subject, against
that undue influence which has increased, is increasing, and ought to be
diminished; and whatever difference of opinion may exist as to his
political tenets, few will be found to question the integrity of his
intentions. Even now oppressed with years, and not exempt from the
infirmities attendant on his age, but still unimpaired in talent, and
unshaken in spirit—"
frangas non flectes
"—he has received many a
wound in the combat against corruption; and the new grievance, the fresh
insult, of which he complains, may inflict another scar, but no
dishonour. The petition is signed by John Cartwright; and it was in
behalf of the people and Parliament, in the lawful pursuit of that
reform in the representation which is the best service to be rendered
both to Parliament and people, that he encountered the wanton outrage
which forms the subject-matter of his petition to your Lordships. It is
couched in firm, yet respectful language—in the language of a man, not
regardless of what is due to himself, but at the same time, I trust,
equally mindful of the deference to be paid to this House. The
petitioner states, amongst other matter of equal, if not greater
importance, to all who are British in their feelings, as well as blood
and birth, that on the 21st January, 1813, at Huddersfield, himself and
six other persons, who, on hearing of his arrival, had waited on him
merely as a testimony of respect, were seized by a military and civil
force, and kept in close custody for several hours, subjected to gross
and abusive insinuation from the commanding officer, relative to the
character of the petitioner; that he (the petitioner) was finally
carried before a magistrate, and not released till an examination of his
papers proved that there was not only no just, but not even statutable
charge against him; and that, notwithstanding the promise and order from
the presiding magistrates of a copy of the warrant against your
petitioner, it was afterwards withheld on divers pretexts, and has never
until this hour been granted. The names and condition of the parties
will be found in the petition. To the other topics touched upon in the
petition I shall not now advert, from a wish not to encroach upon the
time of the House; but I do most sincerely call the attention of your
Lordships to its general contents—it is in the cause of the Parliament
and people that the rights of this venerable freeman have been violated,
and it is, in my opinion, the highest mark of respect that could be paid
to the House, that to your justice, rather than by appeal to any
inferior court, he now commits himself. Whatever may be the fate of his
remonstrance, it is some satisfaction to me, though mixed with regret
for the occasion, that I have this opportunity of publicly stating the
obstruction to which the subject is liable, in the prosecution of the
most lawful and imperious of his duties, the obtaining by petition
reform in Parliament. I have shortly stated his complaint; the
petitioner has more fully expressed it. Your Lordships will, I hope,
adopt some measure fully to protect and redress him, and not him alone,
but the whole body of the people, insulted and aggrieved in his person,
by the interposition of an abused civil and unlawful military force
between them and their right of petition to their own representatives.
His Lordship then presented the petition from Major Cartwright, which
was read, complaining of the circumstances at Huddersfield, and of
interruptions given to the right of petitioning in several places in the
northern parts of the kingdom, and which his Lordship moved should be
laid on the table.
Several lords having spoken on the question,
Lord
Byron
replied, that he had, from motives of duty, presented this
petition to their Lordships' consideration. The noble Earl had contended
that it was not a petition, but a speech; and that, as it contained no
prayer, it should not be received. What was the necessity of a prayer?
If that word were to be used in its proper sense, their Lordships could
not expect that any man should pray to others. He had only to say, that
the petition, though in some parts expressed strongly perhaps, did not
contain any improper mode of address, but was couched in respectful
language towards their Lordships; he should therefore trust their
Lordships would allow the petition to be received.
Detailed Contents of Appendices
Contents
1. The following letter is one of the first which Lady Caroline wrote to
Byron, in the spring of 1812:
"The Rose Lord Byron gave Lady Caroline Lamb died in despight of every
effort made to save it; probably from regret at its fallen Fortunes.
Hume, at least, who is no great believer in most things, says that many
more die of broken hearts than is supposed. When Lady Caroline returns
from Brocket Hall, she will dispatch the
Cabinet Maker
to Lord
Biron, with the Flower she wishes most of all others to resemble, as,
however deficient its beauty and even use, it has a noble and aspiring
mind, and, having once beheld in its full lustre the bright and
unclouded sun that for one moment condescended to shine upon it, never
while it exists could it think any lower object worthy of its worship
and Admiration. Yet the sunflower was punished for its temerity; but its
fate is more to be envied than that of many less proud flowers. It is
still permitted to gaze, though at the humblest distance, on him who is
superior to every other, and, though in this cold foggy atmosphere it
meets no doubt with many disappointments, and though it never could,
never will, have reason to boast of any peculiar mark of condescension
or attention from the bright star to whom it pays constant homage, yet
to behold it sometimes, to see it gazed at, to hear it admired, will
repay all. She hopes, therefore, when brought by the little Page, it
will be graciously received without any more Taunts and cuts about 'Love
of what is New.'
"Lady Caroline does not plead guilty to this most unkind charge, at
least no further than is laudable, for that which is rare and is
distinguished and singular ought to be more prized and sought after than
what is commonplace and disagreeable. How can the other accusation, of
being easily pleased, agree with this? The very circumstance of seeking
out that which is of high value shows at least a mind not readily
satisfied. But to attempt excuses for faults would be impossible with
Lady Caroline. They have so long been rooted in a soil suited to their
growth that a far less penetrating eye than Lord Byron's might perceive
them—even on the shortest acquaintance. There is not one, however,
though long indulged, that shall not be instantly got rid of, if L'd
Byron thinks it worth while to name them. The reproof and abuse of some,
however severe and just, may be valued more than the easily gained
encomiums of the rest of the world.
"Miss Mercer, were she here, would join with Lady Caroline in a last
request during their absence, that, besides not forgetting his new
acquaintances, he would eat and drink like an English man till their
return. The lines upon the only dog ever loved by L'd Byron are
beautiful. What wrong then, that, having such proof of the faith and
friendship of this animal, L'd Byron should censure the whole race by
the following unjust remarks:
"'Perchance my dog will whine in vain
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long e'er I come back again,
He'd tear me where he stands.'
"March 27th, 1812,
Good Friday
."
Detailed Contents of Appendices
Contents
2. The following are the lines written by Lady Caroline when she burned
Byron in effigy at Brocket Hall (endorsed, in Mrs. Leigh's handwriting,
"December, 1812"):
"Address Spoken by the Page at Brocket Hall, before the Bonfire.
"Is this Guy Faux you burn in effigy?
Why bring the Traitor here? What is Guy Faux to me?
Guy Faux betrayed his country, and his laws.
England revenged the wrong; his was a public cause.
But I have private cause to raise this flame.
Burn also those, and be their fate the same.
[Puts the Basket in the fire under the figure.]
See here are locks and braids of coloured hair
Worn oft by me, to make the people stare;
Rouge, feathers, flowers, and all those tawdry things,
Besides those Pictures, letters, chains, and rings—
All made to lure the mind and please the eye,
And fill the heart with pride and vanity—
Burn, fire, burn; these glittering toys destroy.
While thus we hail the blaze with throats of joy.
Burn, fire, burn, while wondering Boys exclaim,
And gold and trinkets glitter in the flame.
Ah! look not thus on me, so grave, so sad;
Shake not your heads, nor say the Lady's mad.
Judge not of others, for there is but one
To whom the heart and feelings can be known.
Upon my youthful faults few censures cast.
Look to the future—and forgive the past.
London, farewell; vain world, vain life, adieu!
Take the last tears I e'er shall shed for you.
Young tho' I seem, I leave the world for ever,
Never to enter it again—no, never—never!"
Detailed Contents of Appendices
Contents
3. The following letter was apparently written in the summer of 1812:
"You have been very generous and kind if you have not betray'd me, and I
do
not think you have
. My remaining in Town and seeing you thus
is sacrificing the last chance I have left. I expose myself to every
eye, to every unkind observation. You think me weak, and selfish; you
think I do not struggle to withstand my own feelings, but indeed it is
exacting more than human nature can bear, and when I came out last
night, which was of itself an effort, and when I heard your name
announced, the moment after I saw nothing more, but seemed in a dream.
Miss Berry's very loud laugh and penetrating eyes did not restore me.
She, however, [was] good natur'd and remain'd near me, and Mr. Moor
(
sic
), though he really does not approve one feeling I have, had
kindness of heart to stay near me. Otherwise I felt so ill I could not
have struggled longer. Lady Cahir said, 'You are ill; shall we go away?'
which I [was] very glad to accept; but we could not get through, and so
I fear it caus'd you pain to see me intrude again. I sent a groom to
Holmes twice yesterday morning, to prevent his going to you, or giving
you a letter full of flippant jokes, written in one moment of gaiety,
which is quite gone since. I am so afraid he has been to you; if so, I
entreat you to forgive it, and to do just what you think right about the
Picture.
"I have been drawing you Mad. de Staël, as the last I sent was not like.
If you do not approve this, give it Murray, and pray do not be angry
with me.
"Do not marry yet, or, if you do, let me know it first. I shall not
suffer, if she you chuse be worth you, but she will never love you as I
did. I am going to the Chapple Royal at St. James. Do you ever go there?
It begins at 1/2 past 5, and lasts till six; it is the most beautiful
singing I ever heard; the choristers sing 'By the waters of Babylon.'
"The Peers sit below; the Women quite apart. But for the evening service
very few go; I wonder that more do not,—it is really most beautiful,
for those who like that style of music. If you never heard it, go there
some day, but not when it is so cold as this. How very pale you are!
What a contrast with Moore! '
Mai io l'ho veduto piu bello che jeri,
ma e la belta della morte
,' or a statue of white marble so
colourless, and the dark brow and hair such a contrast. I never see you
without wishing to cry; if any painter could paint me that face as it
is, I would give them any thing I possess on earth,—not one has yet
given the countenance and complexion as it is. I only could, if I knew
how to draw and paint, because one must feel it to give it the real
expression."
Detailed Contents of Appendices
Contents
4. The following letter was evidently written at the time when the
separation of Lord and Lady Byron was first rumoured:
"Melbourne House, Thursday.
"When so many wiser and better surround you, it is not for me to presume
to hope that anything I can say will find favour in your sight; but yet
I must venture to intrude upon you, even though your displeasure against
me be all I gain for so doing. All others may have some object or
interest in their's; I have none, but the wish to save you. Will you
generously consent to what is for the peace of both parties? and will
you act in a manner worthy of yourself? I am sure in the end you will
consent. Even were everything now left to your own choice, you never
could bring yourself to live with a person who felt desirous of being
separated from you. I know you too well to believe this possible, and I
am sure that a separation nobly and generously arranged by you will at
once silence every report spread against either party. Believe me, Lord
Byron, you will feel happier when you act thus, and all the world will
approve your conduct, which I know is not a consideration with you, but
still should in some measure be thought of. They tell me that you have
accused me of having spread injurious reports against you. Had you the
heart to say this? I do not greatly believe it; but it is affirmed and
generally thought that you said so. You have often been unkind to me,
but never as unkind as this.
"Those who are dear to you cannot feel more anxious for your happiness
than I do. They may fear to offend you more than I ever will, but they
cannot be more ready to serve you. I wish to God that I could see one so
superior in mind and talents and every grace and power that can
fascinate and delight, happier. You might still be so, Lord Byron, if
you would believe what some day you will find true. Have you ever
thought for one moment seriously? Do you wish to heap such misery upon
yourself that you will no longer be able to endure it? Return to virtue
and happiness, for God's sake, whilst it is yet time. Oh, Lord Byron,
let one who has loved you with a devotion almost profane find favour so
far as to incline you to hear her. Sometimes from the mouth of a sinner
advice may be received that a proud heart disdains to take from those
who are upon an equality with themselves. If this is so, may it now,
even now, have some little weight with you. Do not drive things to
desperate extremes. Do not, even though you may have the power, use it
to ill. God bless and sooth you, and preserve you. I cannot see all that
I once admired and loved so well ruining himself and others without
feeling it deeply. If what I have said is unwise, at least believe the
motive was a kind one; and would to God it might avail.
"I cannot believe that you will not act generously in this instance.
"Yours, unhappily as it has proved for me,
"
Caroline
.
"Those of my family who have seen Lady Byron have assured me that,
whatever her sorrow, she is the last in the world to reproach or speak
ill of you. She is most miserable. What regret will yours be evermore if
false friends or resentment impel you to act harshly on this occasion?
Whatever my feelings may be towards you or her, I have, with the most
scrupulous care for both your sakes, avoided either calling, or sending,
or interfering. To say that I have spread reports against either is,
therefore, as unjust as it is utterly false. I fear no enquiry."