The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals Volume I Part 24

[Footnote 3:

"My Dear Lord,--Your letter of yesterday found me an invalid, and unable to do justice to your poems by a dilligent ['sic'] perusal of them. In the meantime I take the first occasion to thank you for sending them to me, and to express a sincere satisfaction in finding you employ your leisure in such occupations. Be not disconcerted if the reception of your works should not be that you may have a right to look for from the public. Persevere, whatever that reception may be, and tho' the Public maybe found very fastidious, ... you will stand better with the world than others who only pursue their studies in Bond St. or at Tatershall's.

Believe me to be, yours most sincerely,

CARLISLE.

July 8th, 1807."]

77.--To John Hanson.

July 20th, 1807.

Sir,--Your proposal to make Mrs. Byron my _Treasurer_ is very kind, but does not meet with my approbation. Mrs. Byron has already made more _free_ with my _funds_ than suits my convenience & I do not chuse to expose her to the Danger of Temptation.

Things will therefore stand as they are; the remedy would be worse than the Disease.

I wish you would order your Drafts payable to me and not Mrs. B. This is worse than Hannibal Higgins; [1] who the Devil could suppose that any Body would have mistaken him for a _real personage?_ & what earthly consequence could it be whether the Blank in the Draft was filled up with _Wilkins, Tomkyns, Simkins, Wiggins, Spriggins, Jiggins_, or _Higgins?_ If I had put in _James Johnson_ you would not have demurred, & why object to Hannibal Higgins? particularly after his _respectable Endors.e.m.e.nts_. As to Business, I make no pretensions to a Knowledge of any thing but a Greek Grammer or a Racing Calendar; but if the _Quintessence_ of information on that head consists in unnecessary & unpleasant delays, explanations, rebuffs, retorts, repartees, & recriminations, the House of H.& B. stands pre-eminent in the profession, as from the Bottom of his Soul testifies

Yours, etc., etc.,

BYRON.

P.S--Will you dine with me on Sunday Tete a Tete at six o'clock? I should be happy to see you before, but my Engagements will not permit me, as on Wednesday I go to the House. I shall have Hargreaves & his Brother on some day after you; I don't like to annoy Children with the _formal_ Faces of _legal_ papas.

[Footnote 1: The point of the allusion is that Byron had endorsed one of Hanson's drafts with the name of "Hannibal Higgins," and had been solemnly warned of the consequences of so tampering with the dignity of the law.]

78.--To Elizabeth Bridget Pigot.

August 2, 1807.

London begins to disgorge its contents--town is empty--consequently I can scribble at leisure, as occupations are less numerous. In a fortnight I shall depart to fulfil a country engagement; but expect two epistles from you previous to that period. Ridge does not proceed rapidly in Notts--very possible. In town things wear a more promising aspect, and a man whose works are praised by _reviewers_, admired by _d.u.c.h.esses_, and sold by every bookseller of the metropolis, does not dedicate much consideration to _rustic readers_. I have now a review before me, ent.i.tled _Literary Recreations_ [1] where my _hards.h.i.+p_ is applauded far beyond my deserts. I know nothing of the critic, but think _him_ a very discerning gentleman, and _myself_ a devilish _clever_ fellow. His critique pleases me particularly, because it is of great length, and a proper quantum of censure is administered, just to give an agreeable _relish_ to the praise. You know I hate insipid, unqualified, common-place compliment. If you would wish to see it, order the 13th Number of _Literary Recreations_ for the last month. I a.s.sure you I have not the most distant idea of the writer of the article--it is printed in a periodical publication--and though I have written a paper (a review of Wordsworth), which appears in the same work, I am ignorant of every other person concerned in it--even the editor, whose name I have not heard. My cousin, Lord Alexander Gordon, who resided in the same hotel, told me his mother, her Grace of Gordon, [2] requested he would introduce my _Poetical_ Lords.h.i.+p to her _Highness_, as she had bought my volume, admired it exceedingly, in common with the rest of the fas.h.i.+onable world, and wished to claim her relations.h.i.+p with the author. I was unluckily engaged on an excursion for some days afterwards; and, as the d.u.c.h.ess was on the eve of departing for Scotland, I have postponed my introduction till the winter, when I shall favour the lady, _whose taste I shall not dispute_, with my most sublime and edifying conversation. She is now in the Highlands, and Alexander took his departure, a few days ago, for the same _blessed_ seat of "_dark rolling winds_."

Crosby, my London publisher, has disposed of his second importation, and has sent to Ridge for a _third_--at least so he says. In every bookseller's window I see my _own name_, and _say nothing_, but enjoy my fame in secret. My last reviewer kindly requests me to alter my determination of writing no more: and "A Friend to the Cause of Literature" begs I will _gratify_ the _public_ with some new work "at no very distant period." Who would not be a bard?--that is to say, if all critics would be so polite. However, the others will pay me off, I doubt not, for this _gentle_ encouragement. If so, have at 'em? By the by, I have written at my intervals of leisure, after two in the morning, 380 lines in blank verse, of Bosworth Field. I have luckily got Hutton's account. [3] I shall extend the poem to eight or ten books, and shall have finished it in a year. Whether it will be published or not must depend on circ.u.mstances. So much for _egotism!_ My _laurels_ have turned my brain, but the _cooling acids_ of forthcoming criticism will probably restore me to _modesty_.

Southwell is a d.a.m.ned place--I have done with it--at least in all probability; excepting yourself, I esteem no one within its precincts.

You were my only _rational_ companion; and in plain truth, I had more respect for you than the whole _bevy_, with whose foibles I amused myself in compliance with their prevailing propensities. You gave yourself more trouble with me and my ma.n.u.scripts than a thousand _dolls_ would have done.

Believe me, I have not forgotten your good nature in _this circle_ of _sin_, and one day I trust I shall be able to evince my grat.i.tude.

Adieu.

Yours, etc.

P.S.--Remember me to Dr. P.

[Footnote 1: See page 137 [Letter 76], [Foot]note 2.]

[Footnote 2: The d.u.c.h.ess of Gordon (1748-1812), 'nee' Jean Maxwell of Monreith, daughter of Sir W. Maxwell, Bart., married in 1767 the Duke of Gordon. The most successful matchmaker of the age, she married three of her daughters to three dukes--Manchester, Richmond, and Bedford. A fourth daughter was Lady Mandalina Sinclair, afterwards, by a second marriage, Lady Mandalina Palmer. A fifth was married to Lord Cornwallis (see the extraordinary story told in the 'Recollections of Samuel Rogers', pp. 145-146). According to Wraxall ('Posthumous Memoirs', vol.

ii. p. 319), she schemed to secure Pitt for her daughter Lady Charlotte, and Eugene Beauharnais for Lady Georgiana, afterwards d.u.c.h.ess of Bedford. Cyrus Redding ('Memoirs of William Beckford', vol. ii. pp.

337-339) describes her attack upon the owner of Fonthill, where she stayed upwards of a week, magnificently entertained, without once seeing the wary master of the house.

She was also the social leader of the Tories, and her house in Pall Mall, rented from the Duke of Buckingham, was the meeting-place of the party. Malcontents accused her of using her power tyrannically:--

"Not Gordon's broad and brawny Grace, The last new Woman in the Place With more contempt could blast."

'Pandolfo Attonito' (1800).

Lord Alexander Gordon died in 1808.]

[Footnote 3: William Hutton (1723-1815), a Birmingham bookseller, who took to literature and became a voluminous writer of poems, and of topographical works which still have their value. In his 'Trip to Redcar and Coatham' (Preface, p. vi.) he says,

"I took up my pen at the advanced age of fifty-six ... I drove the quill thirty years, during which time I wrote and published thirty books."

'The Battle of Bosworth Field' was published in 1788. A new edition, with additions by John Nichols, appeared in 1813. Byron's poem was never published.]

79.--To Elizabeth Bridget Pigot.

London, August 11, 1807.

On Sunday next I set off for the Highlands. [1] A friend of mine accompanies me in my carriage to Edinburgh. There we shall leave it, and proceed in a _tandem_ (a species of open carriage) though the western pa.s.ses to Inverary, where we shall purchase _shelties_, to enable us to view places inaccessible to _vehicular conveyances_. On the coast we shall hire a vessel, and visit the most remarkable of the Hebrides; and, if we have time and favourable weather, mean to sail as far as Iceland, only 300 miles from the northern extremity of Caledonia, to peep at _Hecla_. This last intention you will keep a secret, as my nice _mamma_ would imagine I was on a Voyage of _Discovery_, and raised the accustomed _maternal warwhoop_.

Last week I swam in the Thames from Lambeth through the two bridges, Westminster and Blackfriars, a distance, including the different turns and tracks made on the way, of three miles! [2] You see I am in excellent training in case of a _squall_ at sea. I mean to collect all the Erse traditions, poems, etc., etc., and translate, or expand the subject to fill a volume, which may appear next spring under the denomination of _"The Highland "Harp"_ or some t.i.tle equally _picturesque_. Of Bosworth Field, one book is finished, another just began. It will be a work of three or four years, and most probably never _conclude_. What would you say to some stanzas on Mount Hecla?

they would be written at least with _fire_. How is the immortal Bran?

and the Phoenix of canine quadrupeds, Boatswain? I have lately purchased a thorough-bred bull-dog, worthy to be the coadjutor of the aforesaid celestials--his name is _s.m.u.t!_

"Bear it, ye breezes, on your _balmy_ wings."