CHAPTER VII.
MAY, 1813-DECEMBER, 1813.
THE 'GIAOUR' AND 'BRIDE OF ABYDOS'.
* * * * *
290.--To John Murray.
May 13, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I send a corrected, and, I hope, amended copy of the lines for the "fragment" already sent this evening. [1] Let the enclosed be the copy that is sent to the Devil (the printers) and burn the other.
Yours, etc., B'N.
[Footnote 1: 'The Giaour', which was now in the press, was expanded, either in the course of printing, or in the successive editions, from 400 lines to 1400. It was published in May, 1813.]
* * * * *
291.--To Thomas Moore.
May 19, 1813.
Oh you, who in all names can tickle the town, Anacreon, Tom Little, Tom Moore, or Tom Brown, [1]-- For hang me if I know of which you may most brag, Your Quarto two-pounds, or your Twopenny Post Bag;
* * * * *
But now to my letter--to _yours_ 'tis an answer-- To-morrow be with me, as soon as you can, sir, All ready and dress'd for proceeding to spunge on (According to compact) the wit in the dungeon [2]-- Pray Phoebus at length our political malice May not get us lodgings within the same palace! I suppose that to-night you're engaged with some codgers, And for Sotheby's [3] Blues have deserted Sam Rogers; And I, though with cold I have nearly my death got, Must put on my breeches, and wait on the Heathcote. But to-morrow at four, we will both play the _Scurra_, And you'll be Catullus, the Regent, Mamurra. [4]
Dear M.,--having got thus far, I am interrupted by----. 10 o'clock.
Half-past 11.----is gone. I must dress for Lady Heathcote's.--Addio.
[Footnote 1: Moore's 'Intercepted Letters, or the Twopenny Post-bag. By Thomas Brown, the Younger', was published in 1813.]
[Footnote 2: The "wit in the dungeon" was James Henry Leigh Hunt (1784-1859), who was educated at Christ's Hospital, and began his literary life with "a collection of poems, written between the ages of twelve and sixteen," and published in 1801 as 'Juvenilia'. In 1808 he and his brother John started a weekly newspaper called the 'Examiner', which advocated liberal principles with remarkable independence. On February 24, 1811, Hunt published an article in defence of Peter Finnerty, convicted for a libel on Castlereagh, and exhorting public writers to be bold in the cause of individual liberty. The same number contained an article on the savagery of military floggings, for which he was prosecuted, defended by Brougham, and acquitted. His acquittal drew from Shelley a letter of congratulation, addressed to Hunt as "one of the most fearless enlighteners of the public mind" (Dowden's 'Life of Shelley', vol. i. p. 113).
In March, 1812, the 'Morning Post' printed a poem, speaking of the Prince Regent as the "Maecenas of the Age," the "Exciter of Desire," the "Glory of the People," an "Adonis of Loveliness," etc. The 'Examiner' for March 12, 1812, thus translated this adulation into "the language of truth:"
"What person, unacquainted with the true state of the case, would imagine, in reading these astounding eulogies, that this 'Glory of the People' was the subject of millions of shrugs and reproaches!... that this 'Exciter of Desire' (bravo! Messieurs of the 'Post'!), this 'Adonis in Loveliness,' was a corpulent man of fifty!--in short, this 'delightful, blissful, wise, pleasureable, honourable, virtuous, true', and 'immortal' prince was a violator of his word, a libertine over head and ears in disgrace, a despiser of domestic ties, the companion of gamblers and demireps, a man who has just closed half a century without one single claim on the gratitude of his country or the respect of posterity."
Crabb Robinson, who met Leigh Hunt, four days later, at Charles Lamb's, says ('Diary', vol. i. p. 376),
"Leigh Hunt is an enthusiast, very well intentioned, and, I believe, prepared for the worst. He said, pleasantly enough, 'No one can accuse me of not writing a libel. Everything is a libel, as the law is now declared, and our security lies only in their shame.'"
For this libel John and Leigh Hunt were convicted in the Court of King's Bench on December 9, 1812. In the following February they were sentenced to two years' imprisonment and a fine of L500 a-piece. John was imprisoned in Coldbath-fields, Leigh in the Surrey County Gaol. They were released on February 2 or 3, 1815.
Shelley, on reading the sentence, proposed a subscription for
"the brave and enlightened man... to whom the public owes a debt as the champion of their liberties and virtues"
(Dowden, 'Life of Shelley', vol. i. p. 325). Keats wrote a sonnet to Hunt on the day he left his prison, beginning:
"What though for showing truth to flatter'd state, Kind Hunt was shut in prison."
A political alliance was thus cemented, which, for the time, was disastrous to the literary prospects of Shelley and Keats. To Hunt Shelley dedicated the 'Cenci', and Keats his first volume of 'Poems' (1817). He is the "gentlest of the wise" in Shelley's 'Adonais'; and, in a suppressed stanza of the same poem, the poet speaks of Hunt's "sweet and earnest looks," "soft smiles," and "dark and night-like eyes." The words inscribed on Shelley's tomb--"_Cor Cordium_"--were Hunt's choice. In his various papers Hunt zealously championed his friends. In the 'Examiner' for September to October, 1819, he defended Shelley's personal character; in the same paper for June to July, 1817, he praised Keats's first volume of 'Poems'; he reviewed "Lamia" in the 'Indicator' for August 2-9, 1820, and "La Belle Dame sans Merci" in that for May 10, 1820. In his 'Foliage' (1818) are three sonnets addressed to Keats.
Shelley believed in Hunt to the end. It was mainly through him that Hunt came to Pisa in June, 1822, to join with Byron in 'The Liberal'. But he doubted whether the alliance between the "wren and the eagle" could continue ('Life of Shelley', vol. ii. p. 519). Keats, on the other hand, lost his faith in Hunt. In a letter to Haydon (May, 1817), speaking of Hunt, he says,
"There is no greater Sin after the seven deadly than to flatter oneself into an idea of being a great Poet."
Again (March, 1818) he writes,
"It is a great Pity that People should, by associating themselves with the finest things, spoil them. Hunt has damned Hampstead, and masks, and sonnets, and Italian tales."
He writes still more severely (December, 1818-January, 1819),
"If I were to follow my own inclinations, I should never meet any one of that set again, not even Hunt, who is certainly a pleasant fellow in the main when you are with him; but in reality he is vain, egotistical, and disgusting in matters of taste and morals. Hunt does one harm by making fine things petty, and beautiful things hateful. Through him I am indifferent to Mozart. I care not for white Busts--and many a glorious thing when associated with him becomes a nothing."
Haydon considered that Hunt was the "great unhinger" of Keats's best dispositions ('Works of Keats', ed. H.B. Forman, vol. iv. p. 359); and Severn attributes Keats's temporary "mawkishness" to Hunt's society ('ibid'., p. 376).
Nathaniel Hawthorne ('Our Old Home', p. 229, ed. 1884) says of Hunt, and means it as high praise, that
"there was not an English trait in him from head to foot--morally, intellectually, or physically. Beef, ale or stout, brandy or port-wine, entered not at all into his composition."
He was, in fact, a man of weak fibre, who allowed himself to sponge upon his friends, such as Talfourd, Haydon, and Shelley. Though Dickens denied ('All the Year Round', Dec. 24, 1859) that "Harold Skimpole" was intended for Hunt, the picture was recognized as a portrait. On the other hand, Hunt was a man of kindly and genial disposition.
"He loves everything," says Crabb Robinson ('Diary', vol. ii. p. 192), "he catches the sunny side of everything, and, excepting that he has a few polemical antipathies, finds everything beautiful."
In his essays, the best of which appeared in the 'Indicator' (1819-21), he communicates some of his own sense of enjoyment to those of his readers who are content to take him as he is. His circle is limited; but in it his observation is minute and suggestive. The Vale of Health is to him, in a degree proportioned to their respective powers, what the Temple was to Lamb. His style is neat, pretty, and would be affected if it were not the man himself. As a literary journalist, a dramatic critic, and an essayist, he has a place in literature. His poetry is less successful; his affectations, innate vulgarity, and habit of pawing his subjects repel even those who are attracted by its sweetness. Yet his 'Story of Rimini' (1816), which he dedicated to Byron, was admired in its day. Byron, though he condemned its affected style, thought the poem a "devilish good one." Moore held the same opinion; and Jeffrey, writing to him May 28, 1816 ('Memoirs, etc., of Thomas Moon,' vol. ii. p. 100), says,
"I certainly shall not be ill-natured to 'Rimini'. It is very sweet and very lively in many places, and is altogether piquant, as being by far the best imitation of Chaucer and some of his Italian contemporaries that modern times have produced."
No two men could be more unlike than Byron and Hunt, or have less in common. Yet, with a singular capacity for self-delusion, Hunt told his wife that the texture of Byron's mind resembled his to a thread ('Correspondence of L. Hunt', vol. i. p. 88). The friendship began in political sympathy; but two years later (see Byron's letter to Moore, June 1, 1818) it had, on one side at least, cooled. In June, 1822, Hunt came to Pisa to launch The Liberal, with the aid of Shelley and Byron. 'The Liberal: Verse and Prose from the South', started in 1822, lived through four numbers, and died in July, 1823. During that time Byron expressed to Lady Blessington ('Conversations', p. 77)
"a very good opinion of the talents and principle of Mr. Hunt, though, as he said, 'our tastes are so opposite that we are totally unsuited to each other ... in short, we are more formed to be friends at a distance, than near.'"
For the best part of two years Hunt was Byron's guest: he repaid his hospitality by publishing his 'Lord Byron and Some of his Contemporaries' (1828). Though Lady Blessington said the book "gave, in the main, a fair account" of Byron (Crabb Robinson's 'Diary', vol. iii. p. 13), its publication was a breach of honour. As such it was justly attacked by Moore in "The 'Living Dog' and the 'Dead Lion'":
"Next week will be published (as 'Lives' are the rage) The whole Reminiscences, wondrous and strange, Of a small puppy-dog, that lived once in the cage Of the late noble Lion at Exeter 'Change.
"Though the dog is a dog of the kind they call 'sad,' 'Tis a puppy that much to good breeding pretends; And few dogs have such opportunities had Of knowing how Lions behave--among friends.
"How that animal eats, how he snores, how he drinks, Is all noted down by this Boswell so small; And 'tis plain, from each sentence, the puppy-dog thinks That the Lion was no such great things after all.
"Though he roared pretty well--this the puppy allows-- It was all, he says, borrowed--all second-hand roar; And he vastly prefers his own little bow-wows To the loftiest war-note the Lion could pour.
"'Tis, indeed, as good fun as a 'Cynic' could ask, To see how this cockney-bred setter of rabbits Takes gravely the Lord of the Forest to task, And judges of Lions by puppy-dog habits.
"Nay, fed as he was (and this makes it a dark case) With sops every day from the Lion's own pan, He lifts up his leg at the noble beast's carcass, And--does all a dog, so diminutive, can.
"However, the book's a good book, being rich in Examples and warnings to lions high-bred, How they suffer small mongrelly curs in their kitchen, Who'll feed on them living, and foul them when dead.
"Exeter 'Change'.
T. PIDCOCK."
For the reply of Hunt or one of his friends, "The Giant and the Dwarf," see Appendix VI.]
[Footnote 3: William Sotheby (1757-1833), once a cavalry officer, afterwards a man of letters and of fortune, published his 'Oberon' in 1798, and his 'Georgics' in 1800 (see 'English Bards, etc.', line 818, and 'note'). The following passage from Byron's 'Detached Thoughts' (1821) refers to him:
"Sotheby is a good man; rhymes well (if not wisely), but is a bore. He seizes you by the button. One night of a rout, at Mrs. Hope's, he had fastened upon me (something about Agamemnon or Orestes--or some of his plays), notwithstanding my symptoms of manifest distress, (for I was in love and had just nicked a minute when neither mothers, nor husbands, nor rivals, nor gossips, were near my then idol, who was beautiful as the Statues of the Gallery where we stood at the time). Sotheby, I say, had seized upon me by the button, and the heart-strings, and spared neither. W. Spencer, who likes fun, and don't dislike mischief, saw my case, and, coming up to us both, took me by the hand and pathetically bade me farewell, 'for,' said he, 'I see it is all over with you.' Sotheby then went away. 'Sic me servavit Apollo.'"]
[Footnote 4: See Catullus, xxix. 3:
"Quis hoc potest videre, quis potest pati, Nisi impudicus et vorax, et aleo, Mamurram habere, quod Comata Gallia Habebat uncti et ultima Britannia?"
See also xli. 4, xliii. 5 (compare Horace, 'Sat'. i. 5. 37), and lvii. 2.]
* * * * *
292.--To John Murray.
May 22nd, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I return the "_Curiosities of Literature_." [1] Pray is it fair to ask if the "_Twopenny Postbag_" is to be reviewed in this No.? because, if not, I should be glad to undertake it, and leave it to Chance and the Editor for a reception into your pages.
Yours truly,
B.
P.S.--You have not sent me Eustace's 'Travels'. [2]
[Footnote 1: The first volume of Isaac Disraeli's 'Curiosities of Literature' was published in 1791. The remaining volumes were published at intervals: vol. ii., 1793; vol. iii., 1817; vols. iv. and v., in 1823; vol. vi., 1834.]
[Footnote 2: John Chetwode Eustace ('circ'. 1762-1815) published his 'Tour through Italy' in 1813.]
* * * * *
293.--To John Murray.
May 23rd, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I question whether ever author before received such a compliment from his _master_. I am glad you think the thing is tolerably _vamped_ and will be _vendible_.
Pray look over the proof again. I am but a careless reviser, and let me have 12 struck off, and one or two for yourself to serve as MS. for the thing when published in the body of the volume. If Lady Caroline Lamb sends for it, do _not_ let her have it, till the copies are all ready, and then you can send her one.
Yours truly,
[Greek: Mpairon].
P.S.--H.'s book is out at last; I have my copy, which I have lent already.
* * * * *
294.--To John Murray.
June 2, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I presented a petition to the house yesterday, [1] which gave rise to some debate, and I wish you to favour me for a few minutes with the 'Times' and 'Herald' to look on their hostile report.
You will find, if you like to look at my 'prose', my words nearly 'verbatim' in the 'M. Chronicle'.
B'N.
[Footnote 1: The petition was from Major Cartwright, and was presented June 1, 1813. (For Byron's speech, see Appendix II. (3).) Returning from the House, he called on Moore, and, while the latter was dressing for dinner, walked up and down the next room,
"spouting in a sort of mock heroic voice, detached sentences of the speech he had just been delivering. 'I told them,' he said, 'that it was a most flagrant violation of the Constitution--that, if such things were permitted, there was an end of English freedom, and that--'
"'But what was this dreadful grievance?' asked Moore.
"'The grievance?' he repeated, pausing as if to consider, 'oh, _that_ I forget.'"]
* * * * *
295.--To Thomas Moore.
My Dear Moore,--"When Rogers" [1] must not see the inclosed, which I send for your perusal. I am ready to fix any day you like for our visit. Was not Sheridan good upon the whole? The "Poulterer" was the first and best. [2]
Ever yours, etc.
1.
When Thurlow this damn'd nonsense sent, (I hope I am not violent), Nor men nor gods knew what he meant.
2.
And since not ev'n our Rogers' praise To common sense his thoughts could raise-- Why _would_ they let him print his lays?
3.
* * * * *
4.
* * * * *
5.
To me, divine Apollo, grant--O! Hermilda's first and second canto, I'm fitting up a new portmanteau;
6.
And thus to furnish decent lining, My own and others' bays I'm twining-- So, gentle Thurlow, throw me thine in.
* * * * *
296.--To John Hanson.
June 3d, 1813.
Dear Sir,--When you receive this I shall have left town for a week, and, as it is perfectly right we should understand each other, I think you will not be surprised at my persisting in my intention of going abroad. If the Suit can be carried on in my absence,--_well_; if not, it must be given up. One word, one letter, to Cn. would put an end to it; but this I shall not do, at all events without acquainting you before hand; nor at all, provided I am able to go abroad again. But at all hazards, at all losses, on this last point I am as determined as I have been for the last six months, and you have always told me that you would endeavour to assist me in that intention. Every thing is ordered and ready now. Do not trifle with me, for I am in very solid serious earnest, and if utter ruin _were_, or _is_ before me, on the one hand--and wealth at home on the other,--I have made my choice, and go I will.
If you wish to write, address a line before Saturday to Salthill Post Office; Maidenhead, I believe, but am not sure, is the Post town; but I shall not be in town till Wednesday next.
Believe me, yours ever,
BN.
P.S.--Let all the books go to Mr. Murray's immediately, and let the plate, linen, etc., which I find _excepted_ by the _contract_, be sold, particularly a large silver vase--with the _contents_ not removed as they are curious, and a silver cup (not the skull) be sold also--both are of value.
The Pictures also, and every moveable that is mine, and can be converted into cash; all I want is a few thousand pounds, and then adieu. You shan't be troubled with me these ten years, if ever.
* * * * *
297.--To Francis Hodgson.
June 6, 1813.
MY DEAR HODGSON,--I write to you a few lines on business. Murray has thought proper at his own risk, and peril, and profit (if there be any) to publish 'The Giaour'; and it may possibly come under your ordeal in the 'Monthly' [1] I merely wish to state that in the published copies there are additions to the amount of ten pages, _text_ and _margin_ (_chiefly_ the last), which render it a little less unfinished (but more unintelligible) than before. If, therefore, you review it, let it be from the published copies and not from the first sketch. I shall not sail for this month, and shall be in town again next week, when I shall be happy to hear from you but more glad to see you. You know I have no time or turn for correspondence(!). But you also know, I hope, that I am not the less
Yours ever,
[Greek: MPAIRON].
[Footnote 1: 'The Giaour' was reviewed in the 'Monthly Review' for June, 1813 (N.S. vol. lxxi. p. 202). In the Editor's copy is added in MS. at the end of the article, as indicating the author of the review, the word "Den."]
* * * * *
298.--To Francis Hodgson.
June 8th, 1813.
My dear Hodgson,--In town for a night I find your card. I had written to you at Cambridge merely to say that Murray has thought it expedient to publish 'The Giaour' at his own risk (and reimbursement, if he can), and that, as it will probably be in your department in the 'Monthly', I wished to state that, in the published copies, there are additions to the tune of 300 lines or so towards the end, and, if reviewed, it should _not_ be from the privately printed copy. So much for scribbling.
I shall manage to see you somewhere before I sail, which will be next month; till then I am yours here, and afterwards any where and every where,
Dear H., _tutto tuo_,
BN.
* * * * *
299.--To John Murray.
Je. 9, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I regret much that I have no profane garment to array you with for the masquerade. As my motions will be uncertain, you need not write nor send the proofs till my return.
Yours truly,
BN.
P.S.--My wardrobe is out of town--or I could have dressed you as an Albanian--or a Turk--or an officer--or a Waggoner.
* * * * *
300.--To John Murray.
June 12, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Having occasion to send a servant to London, I will thank you to inform me whether I left with the other things 3 miniatures in your care (--if not--I know where to find them), and also to "report progress" in unpacking the books? The bearer returns this evening.
How does Hobhouse's work go on, or rather off--for that is the essential part? In yesterday's paper, immediately under an advertisement on "Strictures in the Urethra," I see--most appropriately consequent--a poem with "_strictures_ on Ld B., Mr. Southey and others,"[1] though I am afraid neither "Mr. S.'s" poetical distemper, nor "mine," nor "others," is of the suppressive or stranguary kind. You may read me the prescription of this kill or cure physician. The medicine is compounded at White and Cochrane's, Fleet Street. As I have nothing else to do, I may enjoy it like Sir Fretful, or the Archbishop of Grenada, or any other personage in like predicament.
Recollect that my lacquey returns in the Evening, and that I set out for Portsmouth [2] to-morrow. All here are very well, and much pleased with your politeness and attention during their stay in town.
Believe me, yours truly,
B.
P.S.--Are there anything but books? If so, let those _extras_ remain untouched for the present. I trust you have not stumbled on any more "Aphrodites," and have burnt those. I send you both the advertisements, but don't send me the first treatise--as I have no occasion for _Caustic_ in that quarter.
[Footnote 1: In the 'Morning Chronicle' (June 10, 1813) appeared advertisements of the two following books:--'Practical Observations on the best mode of curing Strictures, etc., with Remarks on Inefficacy, etc., of Caustic Applications'. By William Wadd. Printed for J. Callow, Soho. 'Modern Poets; a Dialogue in Verse, containing some Strictures on the Poetry of Lord Byron, Mr. Southey, and Others'. Printed for White, Cochrane, and Co., Fleet Street.
In a note on 'Modern Poets' (p. 7) occurs the following passage:
"In 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers' the same respectable corps of critics is successively exhibited, in the course of only ten lines, under the following significant but somewhat incongruous forms, viz. (1) Northern Wolves, (2) Harpies, (3) Bloodhounds."
In proof the writer quotes lines 426-437 of the Satire. Then follows a long review of 'Childe Harold', in which the critic condemns Harold, the hero, as "an uncouth incumbrance of this flighty Lord;" the want of "plot ... action and fable, interest, order, end;" and asks:
"Shall he immortal bays aspire to wear Who immortality from man would tear, Repress the sigh which hopes a happier home, And chase the visions of a life to come?"]
[Footnote 2: For Byron's intention to go abroad with Lord and Lady Oxford, see p. 164, 'note' 3 [Footnote 6 of Letter 256.]]
* * * * *
301.--To John Murray.
[Maidenhead], June 13, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Amongst the books from Bennet St. is a small vol. of abominable poems by the Earl of Haddington which must not be in ye Catalogue on Sale--also--a vol. of French Epigrams in the same predicament.
On the title page of Meletius is an inscription in writing which must be _erased_ and made illegible.
I have read the strictures, which are just enough, and not grossly abusive, in very fair couplets. There is a note against Massinger near the end, but one cannot quarrel with one's company, at any rate. The author detects some incongruous figures in a passage of 'E. Bds'., page 23., but which edition I do not know. In the _sole_ copy in your possession--I mean the _fifth_ edition--you may make these alterations, that I may profit (though a little too late) by his remarks:--For "_hellish_ instinct," substitute "_brutal_ instinct;" "_harpies_" alter to "_felons_;" and for "blood-hounds" write "hell-hounds." These be "very bitter words, by my troth," and the alterations not much sweeter; but as I shall not publish the thing, they can do no harm, but are a satisfaction to me in the way of amendment. The passage is only 12 lines.
You do not answer me about H.'s book; I want to write to him, and not to say anything unpleasing. If you direct to Post Office, Portsmouth, till _called_ for, I will send and receive your letter. You never told me of the forthcoming critique on 'Columbus' [1] which is not _too_ fair; and I do not think justice quite done to the 'Pleasures', which surely entitles the author to a higher rank than that assigned to him in the 'Quarterly'. But I must not cavil at the decisions of the _invisible infallibles_; and the article is very well written. The general horror of "_fragments_" [2] makes me tremulous for "_The Giaour_;" but you would publish it--I presume, by this time, to your repentance. But as I consented, whatever be its fate, I won't now quarrel with you, even though I detect it in my pastry; but I shall not open a pye without apprehension for some weeks.
The Books which may be marked G.O. I will carry out. Do you know Clarke's 'Naufragia' [3]? I am told that he asserts the _first_ volume of 'Robinson Crusoe' was written by the first Lord Oxford, when in the Tower, and given by him to Defoe; if true, it is a curious anecdote. Have you got back Lord Brooke's MS.? and what does Heber say of it? Write to me at Portsmouth.
Ever yours, etc.,
Bn.
[Footnote 1: Rogers's _Columbus_ was reviewed by Ward in the _Quarterly_ for March, 1813. The reviewer detects "evident marks of haste" in the poem.]
[Footnote 2: _The Giaour_, like _Columbus_, was written in fragments.]
[Footnote 3: James Stanier Clarke, a Navy Chaplain (1765-1834), published, in 1805, 'Naufragia, or Historical Memoirs of Shipwrecks'. In that work he does not himself attribute the _first_ volume of 'Robinson Crusoe' to Lord Oxford. The following is the passage to which Byron refers ('Naufragia', vol. i. pp. 12, 13): "But before I conclude this Section, I wish to make the admirers of this Nautical Romance mindful of a Report, which prevailed many years ago; that Defoe, after all, was not the real author of Robinson Crusoe. This assertion is noticed in an article in the seventh volume of the 'Edinburgh Magazine' [vol. vii. p. 269]. Dr. Towers, in his 'Life' of Defoe in the 'Biographia', is inclined to pay no attention to it; but was that writer aware of the following letter, which also appeared in the 'Gentleman's Magazine' for 1788? (vol. lviii. part i. p. 208). At least no notice is taken of it in his 'Life' of Defoe:
"'Dublin, February 25.
"Mr. Urban,--In the course of a late conversation with a nobleman of the first consequence and information in this kingdom, he assured me, that Mr. Benjamin Holloway, of Middleton Stony, assured him, some time ago: that he knew for fact, that the celebrated Romance of 'Robinson Crusoe' was really written by the Earl of Oxford, when confined in the Tower of London: that his Lordship gave the manuscript to Daniel Defoe, who frequently visited him during his confinement: and that Defoe, having afterwards added the second volume, published the whole as his own production. This anecdote I would not venture to send to your valuable magazine, if I did not think my information good, and imagine it might be acceptable to your numerous readers, not-withstanding the work has heretofore been generally attributed to the latter. W. W.'
"It is impossible for me to enter on a discussion of this literary subject; though I thought the circumstance ought to be more generally known. And yet I must observe, that I always discerned a very striking falling off between the composition of the first and second volumes of this Romance--they seem to bear evident marks of having been the work of different writers."
A volume of memoranda in the handwriting of Warton, the Laureate, preserved in the British Museum, contains the following:
"Mem. Jul. 10, 1774. In the year 1759, I was told by the Rev. Mr. Benjamin Holloway, rector of Middleton Stony, in Oxfordshire, then about 70 years old, and in the early part of his life domestic Chaplain to Lord Sunderland, that he had often heard Lord Sunderland say that Lord Oxford, while a prisoner in the Tower of London, wrote the first volume of the History of Robinson Crusoe, merely as an amusement under confinement; and gave it to Daniel De Foe, who frequently visited Lord Oxford in the Tower, and was one of his Pamphlet writers. That De Foe, by Lord Oxford's permission, printed it as his own, and, encouraged by its extraordinary success, added himself the second volume, the inferiority of which is generally acknowledged. Mr. Holloway also told me, from Lord Sunderland, that Lord Oxford dictated some parts of the manuscript to De Foe. Mr. Holloway was a grave conscientious clergyman, not vain of telling anecdotes, very learned, particularly a good orientalist, author of some theological tracts, bred at Eton School, and a Master of Arts at St. John's College, Cambridge. He lived many years with great respect in Lord Sunderland's family, and was like to the late Duke of Marlborough. He died, as I remember, about the year 1761." ]
* * * * *
302.--To John Murray.
June 18, 1813.
Dear Sir,--Will you forward the enclosed answer to the kindest letter I ever received in my life, my sense of which I can neither express to Mr. Gifford himself nor to any one else?
Ever yours,
B'N.
* * * * *
303.--To W. Gifford.
June 18, 1813.
My Dear Sir,--I feel greatly at a loss how to write to you at all--still more to thank you as I ought. If you knew the veneration with which I have ever regarded you, long before I had the most distant prospect of becoming your acquaintance, literary or personal, my embarrassment would not surprise you.
Any suggestion of yours, even were it conveyed in the less tender shape of the text of the 'Baviad', or a Monk Mason note in Massinger, [1] would have been obeyed; I should have endeavoured to improve myself by your censure: judge then if I shall be less willing to profit by your kindness. It is not for me to bandy compliments with my elders and my betters: I receive your approbation with gratitude, and will not return my brass for your Gold by expressing more fully those sentiments of admiration, which, however sincere, would, I know, be unwelcome.
To your advice on Religious topics, I shall equally attend. Perhaps the best way will be by avoiding them altogether. The already published objectionable passages have been much commented upon, but certainly have been rather _strongly_ interpreted. I am no Bigot to Infidelity, and did not expect that, because I doubted the immortality of Man, I should be charged with denying the existence of a God. It was the comparative insignificance of ourselves and _our world_, when placed in competition with the mighty whole, of which it is an atom, that first led me to imagine that our pretensions to eternity might be over-rated.
This, and being early disgusted with a Calvinistic Scotch school, where I was cudgelled to Church for the first ten years of my life, afflicted me with this malady; for, after all, it is, I believe, a disease of the mind as much as other kinds of hypochondria.
I regret to hear you talk of ill-health. May you long exist! not only to enjoy your own fame, but outlive that of fifty such ephemeral adventurers as myself.
As I do not sail quite so soon as Murray may have led you to expect (not till July) I trust I have some chance of taking you by the hand before my departure, and repeating in person how sincerely and affectionately I am
Your obliged servant,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 198 [Footnote 4 of Letter 192.]]
* * * * *
304.--To John Murray.
June 22, 1813.
Dear Sir,--I send you a _corrected_ copy of the lines with several _important_ alterations,--so many that this had better be sent for proof rather than subject the other to so many blots.
You will excuse the eternal trouble I inflict upon you. As you will see, I have attended to your Criticism, and softened a passage you proscribed this morning.
Yours veritably,
B.
* * * * *
305.--To Thomas Moore.
June 22, 1813.
Yesterday I dined in company with Stael, the "Epicene," [1] whose politics are sadly changed. She is for the Lord of Israel and the Lord of Liverpool--a vile antithesis of a Methodist and a Tory--talks of nothing but devotion and the ministry, and, I presume, expects that God and the government will help her to a pension.
Murray, the [Greek: anax] of publishers, the Anak of stationers, has a design upon you in the paper line. He wants you to become the staple and stipendiary editor of a periodical work. What say you? Will you be bound, like "Kit Smart, to write for ninety-nine years in the _Universal Visitor?_" [2]
Seriously, he talks of hundreds a year, and--though I hate prating of the beggarly elements--his proposal may be to your honour and profit, and, I am very sure, will be to our pleasure.
I don't know what to say about "friendship." I never was in friendship but once, in my nineteenth year, and then it gave me as much trouble as love. I am afraid, as Whitbread's sire said to the king, when he wanted to knight him, that I am "too old;" [3] but nevertheless, no one wishes you more friends, fame, and felicity, than
Yours, etc.
[Footnote 1:
"'And ah! what verse can grace thy stately mien, Guide of the world, preferment's golden queen, Neckar's fair daughter, Stael the 'Epicene'! Bright o'er whose flaming cheek and pumple nose The bloom of young desire unceasing glows! Fain would the Muse--but ah! she dares no more, A mournful voice from lone 'Guyana's' shore, Sad Quatremer, the bold presumption checks, Forbid to question thy ambiguous sex.'
"These lines contain the Secret History of Quatremer's deportation. He presumed, in the Council of Five Hundred, to arraign Madame de Stael's conduct, and even to hint a doubt of her sex. He was sent to 'Guyana'. The transaction naturally brings to one's mind the dialogue between Falstaff and Hostess Quickly in Shakespeare's 'Henry IV'."
'Canning's New Morality', lines 293-301 (Edmonds' edition of the 'Poetry of the Anti-Jacobin', pp. 282, 283).
Anne Louise Germaine Necker (1766-1817), only child of the Minister Necker and his wife Suzanne Curchod, Gibbon's early love, married, in 1786, the Swedish Ambassador Baron de Stael Holstein, who died in 1802. She married, as her second husband, in 1811, M. de Rocca, a young French officer, who had been severely wounded in Spain, but survived her by a year (Madame de Recamier, 'Souvenirs', vol. i. p. 272). Her book, 'De l'Allemagne', seized and destroyed by Napoleon, was brought out in June, 1813, by John Murray. Byron thought her
"certainly the cleverest, though not the most agreeable woman he had ever known. 'She declaimed to you instead of conversing with you,' said he, 'never pausing except to take breath; and if during that interval a rejoinder was put in, it was evident that she did not attend to it, as she resumed the thread of her discourse as though it had not been interrupted'"
(Lady Blessington's 'Conversations', p. 26). Croker ('Croker Papers', vol. i. p. 327) describes her as
"ugly, and not of an intellectual ugliness. Her features were coarse, and the ordinary expression rather vulgar, she had an ugly mouth, and one or two irregularly prominent teeth, which perhaps gave her countenance an habitual gaiety. Her eye was full, dark, and expressive; and when she declaimed, which was almost whenever she spoke, she looked eloquent, and one forgot that she was plain."
Madame de Stael
"did not affect to conceal her preference for the society of men to that of her own sex,"
and was entirely above, or below, studying the feminine arts of pleasing. In 1802 Miss Berry called on her in Paris.
"Found her in an excessively dirty 'cabinet'--sofa singularly so; her own dress, a loose spencer with a bare neck"
('Journal', vol. ii. p. 145). A similar experience is mentioned by Crabb Robinson ('Diary', 1804).
"On the 28th of January," he writes, "I first waited on Madame de Stael. I was shown into her bedroom, for which, not knowing Parisian customs, I was unprepared. She was sitting, most decorously, 'in' her bed, and writing. She had her night-cap on, and her face was not made up for the day. It was by no means a captivating spectacle; but I had a very cordial reception, and two bright black eyes smiled benignantly on me."
Of her political opinions Sir John Bowring ('Autobiographical Recollections', pp. 375, 376) has left a sketch.
"Madame de Stael was a perfect aristocrat, and her sympathies were wholly with the great and prosperous. She saw nothing in England but the luxury, stupidity, and pride of the Tory aristocracy, and the intelligence and magnificence of the Whig aristocracy. These latter talked about truth, and liberty and herself, and she supposed it was all as it should be. As to the millions, the people, she never inquired into their situation. She had a horror of the 'canaille', but anything of 'sangre asul' had a charm for her. When she was dying she said, 'Let me die in peace; let my last moments be undisturbed.' Yet she ordered the cards of every visitor to be brought to her. Among them was one from the Duc de Richelieu. 'What!' exclaimed she indignantly, 'What! have you sent away the 'Duke'? Hurry! Fly after him. Bring him back. Tell him that, though I die for all the world, I live for 'him'.'"
Napoleon's hatred of her was intense. "Do not allow that jade, Madame de Stael," he writes to Fouche, December 31, 1806 ('New Letters of Napoleon I.', p. 35), "to come near Paris." Again, March 15, 1807 ('ibid.', p. 39), "You are not to allow Madame de Stael to come within forty leagues of Paris. That wicked schemer ought to make up her mind to behave herself at last." In a third letter, April 19, 1807 ('ibid.', p. 40), he speaks of her as "paying court, one day to the great--a patriot, a democrat, the next!... a fright, ... a worthless woman" (Leon Lecestre's 'Lettres inedites de Napoleon I'er', 2nd ed. vol. i. pp. 84, 88, 93).]
[Footnote 2:
"Old Gardner the bookseller employed Rolt and Smart to write a monthly miscellany called the 'Universal Visitor'. There was a formal written contract, which Allen the printer saw.... They were bound to write nothing else; they were to have, I think, a third of the profits of his sixpenny pamphlet; and the contract was for ninety-nine years"
(Boswell's 'Life of Dr. Johnson', ed. Birrell, vol. iii. p. 192).]
[Footnote 3:
"But first the Monarch, so polite, Ask'd Mister Whitbread if he'd be a 'Knight'. Unwilling in the list to be enroll'd, Whitbread contemplated the Knights of 'Peg', Then to his generous Sov'reign made a leg, And said, 'He was afraid he was 'too old','" etc.
Peter Pindar's 'Instructions to a Laureat'.]
* * * * *
306.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
4, Bennet Street, June 26th, 1813.
MY DEAREST AUGUSTA,--Let me know when you arrive, and when, and where, and how, you would like to see me,--any where in short but at _dinner_. I have put off going into ye country on purpose to _waylay_ you.
Ever yours, Byron
* * * * *
307.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
[June, 1813.]
MY DEAREST AUGUSTA,--And if you knew _whom_ I had put off besides my journey--you would think me grown strangely fraternal. However I won't overwhelm you with my _own praises_.
Between one and two be it--I shall, in course, prefer seeing you all to myself without the incumbrance of third persons, even of _your_ (for I won't own the relationship) fair cousin of _eleven page_ memory [1], who, by the bye, makes one of the finest busts I have seen in the Exhibition, or out of it. Good night!
Ever yours, BYRON.
P.S.--Your writing is grown like my Attorney's, and gave me a qualm, till I found the remedy in your signature.
[Footnote 1: 'Letters', vol. i. p. 54 [end of Footnote 3 of Letter 13.], Lady Gertrude Howard married, in 1806, William Sloane Stanley, and died in 1870.]
* * * * *
308.--To the Hon. Augusta Leigh.
[Sunday], June 27th, 1813.
MY DEAREST AUGUSTA,--If you like to go with me to ye Lady Davy's [1] [ to-night, I _have_ an invitation for you.
There you will see the _Stael_, some people whom you know, and _me_ whom you do _not_ know,--and you can talk to which you please, and I will watch over you as if you were unmarried and in danger of always being so. Now do as you like; but if you chuse to array yourself before or after half past ten, I will call for you. I think our being together before 3d people will be a new _sensation_ to _both_.
Ever yours,
B.
[Footnote 1: Sir Humphry Davy (1778-1829), the son of a wood-carver of Penzance, was apprenticed to John Borlase, a surgeon at Penzance, in whose dispensary he became a chemist. He wrote poetry as a young man, but soon abandoned the pursuit for science. Two poems on Byron by Davy, one written in 1823, the other in 1824, will be found in Dr. Davy's 'Memoirs of the Life of Sir H. Davy', vol. ii. pp. 168, 169. In October, 1798, he joined Dr. Beddoes at Bristol, where he superintended the laboratory at his Pneumatic Institution. His 'Researches, Chemical and Philosophical' (1799), made him famous. At the Royal Institution in London, founded in 1799, Davy became assistant-lecturer in chemistry, and director of the chemical laboratory. There his lecture-room was crowded by some of the most distinguished men and women of the day. Within the next few years his discoveries in electricity and galvanism, (1806-7) brought him European celebrity; his lectures on agricultural chemistry (1810) marked a fresh era in farming, and inaugurated the new movement of "science with practice." His famous discovery of the Safety Lamp was made in 1816. He was created a baronet in 1818. A skilful fisherman, he wrote, when in declining health, 'Salmonia, or Days of Fly-fishing', published in 1827. Ticknor ('Life', vol. i. p. 57), speaking of Davy in 1815, says,
"He is now about thirty-three, but with all the freshness and bloom of five-and-twenty, and one of the handsomest men I have seen in England. He has a great deal of vivacity, talks rapidly, though with great precision, and is so much interested in conversation, that his excitement amounts to nervous impatience, and keeps him in constant motion."
Davy married, in 1812, a rich widow, Jane Aprecce, 'nee' Kerr (1780-1855). The marriage brought him wealth; but it also, it is said, impaired the simplicity of his character, and made him ambitious of social distinction. Miss Berry ('Journal', vol. ii. p. 535) supped with Lady Davy in May, 1813, to meet the Princess of Wales, and notes that among the other guests was Byron. Lady Davy, who was so dark a brunette that Sydney Smith said she was as brown as a dry toast, was for many years a prominent figure in the society of London and Rome. It was of her that Madame de Stael said that she had "all Corinne's talents without her faults or extravagances." Ticknor, who called on her in June, 1815,
"found her in her parlour, working on a dress, the contents of her basket strewed about the table, and looking more like home than anything since I left it. She is small, with black eyes and hair, a very pleasant face, an uncommonly sweet smile, and, when she speaks, has much spirit and expression in her countenance. Her conversation is agreeable, particularly in the choice and variety of her phraseology, and has more the air of eloquence than I have ever heard before from a lady." ('Life of George Ticknor', vol. i. P. 57).]
* * * * *
309.--To John Murray.
July 1st, 1813.
DEAR SIR,--There is an error in my dedication. [1] The word "_my_" must be struck out--"my" admiration, etc.; it is a false construction and disagrees with the signature. I hope this will arrive in time to prevent a _cancel_ and serve for a proof; recollect it is only the "my" to be erased throughout.
There is a critique in the 'Satirist', [2] which I have read,--fairly written, and, though _vituperative_, very fair in judgment. One part belongs to you, _viz_., the 4_s_. and 6_d_ charge; it is unconscionable, but you have no conscience.
Yours truly,
B.
[Footnote 1: The dedication was originally printed thus:
"To Samuel Rogers, Esq., as a slight but most sincere token of my admiration of his genius."]
[Footnote 2: 'The Satirist' for July 1, 1813 (pp. 70-88), reviews the 'Giaour' at length. It condemns it for its fragmentary character and consequent obscurity, its carelessness and defects of style; but it also admits that the poem "abounds with proofs of genius:"
"A word in conclusion. The noble lord appears to have an aristocratical solicitude to be read only by the opulent. Four shillings and sixpence for forty-one octavo pages of poetry! and those pages verily happily answering to Mr. Sheridan's image of a rivulet of text flowing through a meadow of margin. My good Lord Byron, while you are revelling in all the sensual and intellectual luxury which the successful sale of Newstead Abbey has procured for you, you little think of the privations to which you have subjected us unfortunate Reviewers, ... in order to enable us to purchase your lordship's expensive publication."]
* * * * *
310.--To Thomas Moore.
4, Benedictine Street, St. James's, July 8, 1813.
I presume by your silence that I have blundered into something noxious in my reply to your letter, for the which I beg leave to send beforehand a sweeping apology, which you may apply to any, or all, parts of that unfortunate epistle. If I err in my conjecture, I expect the like from you in putting our correspondence so long in quarantine. God he knows what I have said; but he also knows (if he is not as indifferent to mortals as the _nonchalant_ deities of Lucretius), that you are the last person I want to offend. So, if I have,--why the devil don't you say it at once, and expectorate your spleen?
Rogers is out of town with Madame de Stael, who hath published an Essay against Suicide, [1] which, I presume, will make somebody shoot himself;--as a sermon by Blenkinsop, in _proof_ of Christianity, sent a hitherto most orthodox acquaintance of mine out of a chapel of ease a perfect atheist. Have you found or founded a residence yet? and have you begun or finished a poem? If you won't tell me what _I_ have done, pray say what you have done, or left undone, yourself. I am still in equipment for voyaging, and anxious to hear from, or of, you _before_ I go, which anxiety you should remove more readily, as you think I sha'n't cogitate about you afterwards. I shall give the lie to that calumny by fifty foreign letters, particularly from any place where the plague is rife,--without a drop of vinegar or a whiff of sulphur to save you from infection.
The Oxfords have sailed almost a fortnight, and my sister is in town, which is a great comfort,--for, never having been much together, we are naturally more attached to each other. I presume the illuminations have conflagrated to Derby (or wherever you are) by this time. [2] We are just recovering from tumult and train oil, and transparent fripperies, and all the noise and nonsense of victory. Drury Lane had a large _M.W._, which some thought was Marshal Wellington; others, that it might be translated into Manager Whitbread; while the ladies of the vicinity of the saloon conceived the last letter to be complimentary to themselves. I leave this to the commentators to illustrate. If you don't answer this, I sha'n't say what _you_ deserve, but I think _I_ deserve a reply. Do you conceive there is no Post-Bag but the Twopenny? [3] Sunburn me, if you are not too bad.
[Footnote 1:
"Madame de Stael treats me as the person whom she most delights to honour; I am generally ordered with her to dinner, as one orders beans and bacon: she is one of the few persons who surpass expectation; she has every sort of talent, and would be universally popular, if, in society, she were to confine herself to her inferior talents-- pleasantry, anecdote, and literature. I have reviewed her 'Essay on Suicide' in the last 'Edinburgh Review': it is not one of her best, and I have accordingly said more of the author and the subject than of the work."
Sir J. Mackintosh ('Life', vol. ii. p. 269).]
[Footnote 2: One result of the illuminations in honour of the battle of Vittoria (June 21, 1813), which took place July 7, was a great fire at Woolwich. Moore was at this time living at Mayfield Cottage near Ashbourne, in Derbyshire.]
[Footnote 3: Moore's 'Intercepted Letters, or the Twopenny Post-bag', was published, without his name, in 1813.]
* * * * *
311.--To Thomas Moore.
July 13, 1813.
Your letter set me at ease; for I really thought (as I hear of your susceptibility) that I had said--I know not what--but something I should have been very sorry for, had it, or I, offended you;--though I don't see how a man with a beautiful wife--_his own_ children,--quiet--fame --competency and friends, (I will vouch for a thousand, which is more than I will for a unit in my own behalf,) can be offended with any thing.
Do you know, Moore, I am amazingly inclined--remember I say but _inclined_--to be seriously enamoured with Lady A[delaide] F[orbes] [1]--but this----has ruined all my prospects. However, you know her; is she _clever_, or sensible, or good-tempered? either _would_ do--I scratch out the _will_. I don't ask as to her beauty--that I see; but my circumstances are mending, and were not my other prospects blackening, I would take a wife, and that should be the woman, had I a chance. I do not yet know her much, but better than I did.
I want to get away, but find difficulty in compassing a passage in a ship of war. They had better let me go; if I cannot, patriotism is the word--"nay, an they'll mouth, I'll rant as well as they." [2]
Now, what are you doing?--writing, we all hope, for our own sakes. Remember you must edit my posthumous works, with a Life of the Author, for which I will send you Confessions, dated "Lazaretto," Smyrna, Malta, or Palermo--one can die any where.
There is to be a thing on Tuesday ycleped a national fete [3]. The Regent and----are to be there, and every body else, who has shillings enough for what was once a guinea. Vauxhall is the scene--there are six tickets issued for the modest women, and it is supposed there will be three to spare. The passports for the lax are beyond my arithmetic.
P. S.--The Stael last night attacked me most furiously--said that I had "no right to make love--that I had used----barbarously--that I had no feeling, and was totally _in_sensible to _la belle passion_, and _had_ been all my life." I am very glad to hear it, but did not know it before. Let me hear from you anon.
[Footnote 1:
"Lady A. F----'was' also very handsome. It is melancholy to talk of women in the past tense. What a pity, that of all flowers, none fade so soon as beauty! Poor Lady A. F--has not got married. Do you know, I once had some thoughts of her as a wife; not that I was in love, as people call it, but I had argued myself into a belief that I ought to marry, and, meeting her very often in society, the notion came into my head, not heart, that she would suit me. Moore, too, told me so much of her good qualities--all which was, I believe, quite true--that I felt tempted to propose to her, but did not, whether 'tant mieux' or 'tant pis', God knows, supposing my proposal accepted."
(Lady Blessington's 'Conversations', pp. 108, 109).
Lady Adelaide Forbes, whom Byron in Rome compared to the "Belvedere Apollo," was the daughter of George, sixth Earl of Granard, and his wife, Lady Selina Rawdon, daughter of the first Earl of Moira. Born in 1789, she died at Dresden, in 1858, unmarried. Lord Moira was Moore's patron, and, through this connection and political sympathies, Moore was acquainted with Lord Granard and his family.]
[Footnote 2: Byron possibly quoted the actual words from 'Hamlet' (act v. sc. 1), referring to Moore's attack on the Regent in 'The Two-penny Post-bag':
"Nay, an thou'lt mouth, I'll rant as well as thou."
But the letter is destroyed.]
[Footnote 3: The 'Morning Chronicle' for July 12 contains the announcement that "the Prince Regent has projected a 'Grand National Fete' in honour of the battle of Vittoria. It is to be held at Vauxhall Gardens." The 'fete' was held on Tuesday, July 20, beginning with a banquet, at which such toasts were drunk as "The Marquis of Wellington," "Sir Thomas Graham and the other office