The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals Volume I Part 27

He was also of that band of profane scoffers who, under the auspices of----, used to rouse Lort Mansel (late Bishop of Bristol) from his slumbers in the lodge of Trinity; and when he appeared at the window foaming with wrath, and crying out, "I know you, gentlemen, I know you!" were wont to reply, "We beseech thee to hear us, good Lort!"--"Good Lort deliver us!" (Lort was his Christian name.) As he was very free in his speculations upon all kinds of subjects, although by no means either dissolute or intemperate in his conduct, and as I was no less independent, our conversation and correspondence used to alarm our friend Hobhouse to a considerable degree.

You must be almost tired of my packets, which will have cost a mint of postage.

Salute Gifford and all my friends.

Yours, etc.

[Footnote 1: This letter, though written twelve years later, belongs to the Cambridge period of Byron's life. It is therefore introduced here.

(For John Murray, see [Foot]note [1] to letter to R. C. Dallas [Letter 167] of August 21, 1811.)]

[Footnote 2: Charles Skinner Matthews was known at Eton as Matthews 'major', his 'minor' being his brother Henry, the author of 'The Diary of an Invalid', afterwards a Judge in the Supreme Court of Ceylon, who died in 1828. They were the sons of John Matthews of Belmont, Herefords.h.i.+re, M.P. for that county (1802-6). C. S. Matthews became a Scholar of Trinity, Cambridge; Ninth Wrangler in 1805; First Members'

Prizeman in 1807; Fellow of Downing in 1808. He was drowned in the Cam in August, 1811. He at the time contemplated standing as Member for the University of Cambridge. For a description of the accident, see letter from Henry Drury to Francis Hodgson ('Life of the Rev. Francis Hodgson', vol. i. pp. 182-185). In the note to 'Childe Harold', Canto I. stanza xci., Byron speaks of Matthews:

"I should have ventured a verse to the memory of the late Charles Skinner Matthews, Fellow of Downing College, Cambridge, were he not too much above all praise of mine. His powers of mind, shown in the attainment of greater honours, against the ablest candidates, than those of any graduate on record at Cambridge, have sufficiently established his fame on the spot where it was acquired; while his softer qualities live in the recollection of friends who loved him too well to envy his superiority."]

[Footnote 3: See page 120 [Letter 67], [Foot]note 1.]

[Footnote 4: See page 73 [Letter 31], [Foot]note 2.]

[Footnote 5: See page 163 [Letter 83], note 1 [5].]

[Footnote 6: Of this visit to Newstead, Matthews wrote the following account to his sister:--

"London, May 22, 1809.

"My Dear----,--I must begin with giving you a few particulars of the singular place which I have lately quitted.

Newstead Abbey is situate 136 miles from London,--four on this side Mansfield. It is so fine a piece of antiquity, that I should think there must be a description, and, perhaps, a picture of it in Grose.

The ancestors of its present owner came into possession of it at the time of the dissolution of the monasteries,--but the building itself is of a much earlier date. Though sadly fallen to decay, it is still completely an _abbey_, and most part of it is still standing in the same state as when it was first built. There are two tiers of cloisters, with a variety of cells and rooms about them, which, though not inhabited, nor in an inhabitable state, might easily be made so; and many of the original rooms, amongst which is a fine stone hall, are still in use. Of the abbey church only one end remains; and the old kitchen, with a long range of apartments, is reduced to a heap of rubbish. Leading from the abbey to the modern part of the habitation is a n.o.ble room, seventy feet in length, and twenty-three in breadth; but every part of the house displays neglect and decay, save those which the present Lord has lately fitted up.

The house and gardens are entirely surrounded by a wall with battlements. In front is a large lake, bordered here and there with castellated buildings, the chief of which stands on an eminence at the further extremity of it. Fancy all this surrounded with bleak and barren hills, with scarce a tree to be seen for miles, except a solitary clump or two, and you will have some idea of Newstead. For the late Lord, being at enmity with his son, to whom the estate was secured by entail, resolved, out of spite to the same, that the estate should descend to him in as miserable a plight as he could possibly reduce it to; for which cause, he took no care of the mansion, and fell to lopping of every tree he could lay his hands on, so furiously, that he reduced immense tracts of woodland country to the desolate state I have just described. However, his son died before him, so that all his rage was thrown away.

So much for the place, concerning which I have thrown together these few particulars, meaning my account to be, like the place itself, without any order or connection. But if the place itself appear rather strange to you, the ways of the inhabitants will not appear much less so. Ascend, then, with me the hall steps, that I may introduce you to my Lord and his visitants. But have a care how you proceed; be mindful to go there in broad daylight, and with your eyes about you. For, should you make any blunder,--should you go to the right of the hall steps, you are laid hold of by a bear; and should you go to the left, your case is still worse, for you run full against a wolf!--Nor, when you have attained the door, is your danger over; for the hall being decayed, and therefore standing in need of repair, a bevy of inmates are very probably banging at one end of it with their pistols; so that if you enter without giving loud notice of your approach, you have only escaped the wolf and the bear to expire by the pistol-shots of the merry monks of Newstead.

Our party consisted of Lord Byron and four others, and was, now and then, increased by the presence of a neighbouring parson. As for our way of living, the order of the day was generally this:--for breakfast we had no set hour, but each suited his own convenience, --everything remaining on the table till the whole party had done; though had one wished to breakfast at the early hour of ten, one would have been rather lucky to find any of the servants up. Our average hour of rising was one. I, who generally got up between eleven and twelve, was always,--even when an invalid,--the first of the party, and was esteemed a prodigy of early rising. It was frequently past two before the breakfast party broke up. Then, for the amus.e.m.e.nts of the morning, there was reading, fencing, single-stick, or shuttle-c.o.c.k, in the great room; practising with pistols in the hall; walking--riding--cricket--sailing on the lake, playing with the bear, or teasing the wolf. Between seven and eight we dined; and our evening lasted from that time till one, two, or three in the morning. The evening diversions may be easily conceived.

I must not omit the custom of handing round, after dinner, on the removal of the cloth, a human skull filled with burgundy. After revelling on choice viands, and the finest wines of France, we adjourned to tea, where we amused ourselves with reading, or improving conversation,--each, according to his fancy,--and, after sandwiches, etc., retired to rest. A set of monkish dresses, which had been provided, with all the proper apparatus of crosses, beads, tonsures, etc., often gave a variety to our appearance, and to our pursuits.

You may easily imagine how chagrined I was at being ill nearly the first half of the time I was there. But I was led into a very different reflection from that of Dr. Swift, who left Pope's house without ceremony, and afterwards informed him, by letter, that it was impossible for two sick friends to live together; for I found my s.h.i.+vering and invalid frame so perpetually annoyed by the thoughtless and tumultuous health of every one about me, that I heartily wished every soul in the house to be as ill as myself.

"The journey back I performed on foot, together with another of the guests. We walked about twenty-five miles a day; but were a week on the road, from being detained by the rain. So here I close my account of an expedition which has somewhat extended my knowledge of this country. And where do you think I am going next? To Constantinople!--at least, such an excursion has been proposed to me.

Lord B. and another friend of mine are going thither next month, and have asked me to join the party; but it seems to be but a wild scheme, and requires twice thinking upon.

"Addio, my dear I., yours very affectionately, C. S. MATTHEWS."]

[Footnote 7: A joke, related by Hobhouse, reminds us of the youth of the party. In the Long Gallery at Newstead was placed a stone coffin, from which, as he pa.s.sed down the Gallery at night, he heard a groan proceeding. On going nearer, a cowled figure rose from the coffin and blew out the candle. It was Matthews.]

[Footnote 8: The Rev. Thomas Jones. (See page 79 [Letter 36], [Foot]note 1.)]

[Footnote 9: The only thing remarkable about Walsh's preface is that Dr. Johnson praises it as "very judicious," but is, at the same time, silent respecting the poems to which it is prefixed (Moore).]

[Footnote 10: No "Ode" under this t.i.tle is to be found in Walsh's Poems.

Byron had, no doubt, in mind _The Golden Age Restored_--a composition in which, says Dr. Johnson, "there was something of humour, while the facts were recent; but it now strikes no longer."]

[Footnote 11:

"----Granville the polite, And _knowing Walsh_, would tell me I could write."

"About fifteen," says Pope, "I got acquainted with Mr. Walsh. He used to encourage me much, and tell me, that there was one way left of excelling: for though we had several great poets, we never had any one great poet that was correct; and he desired me to make that my study and aim" (Spence's _Anecdotes_, edit. 1820, p. 280).]

[Footnote 12: See page 165 [Letter 86], [Foot]note 2.]

[Footnote 13: Dan Dogherty, Irish champion (1806-11), came into notice as a pugilist in 1806. He was beaten by Belcher in April, 1808, near the Rubbing House on Epsom Downs, and again on the Curragh of Kildare, in 1813, in thirty-five minutes, after twenty-six rounds.]

[Footnote 14: Tom Belcher (1783-1854), younger brother of Jem Belcher the champion, fought and won his first fight in London, in 1804, against Warr. The fight took place in Tothill Fields, Westminster. Twice beaten by Dutch Sam (Elias Samuel), in 1806 and 1807, he never held the champions.h.i.+p, which a man of his height (5 ft. 9 ins.) and weight (10 st. 12 lbs.) could scarcely hope to win. But he repeatedly established the superiority of art over strength, and was one of the most popular and respectable pugilists of the day. Under his management the Castle Tavern at Holborn, in which he succeeded Gregson (page 207 [Letter 108], [Foot]note 1 [2]), was the head-quarters of pugilism.]

[Footnote 15: Sir Henry Smyth, Baronet, of Trinity Hall, A.M. 1805, was found between eleven and twelve at night, on May 11, 1805, "inciting to a disturbance" at the shop of a Mrs. Thrower on Market Hill. Other members of the University seem to have been equally guilty. The sentence of the Vice-Chancellor and Heads was "that he be suspended from his degree and banished from the University." The others were admonished only; so it was clearly considered that Smyth was the ring-leader.]

85.--To Henry Drury. [1]

Dorant's Hotel, Jan. 13, 1808.

My Dear Sir,--Though the stupidity of my servants, or the porter of the house, in not showing you up stairs (where I should have joined you directly), prevented me the pleasure of seeing you yesterday, I hoped to meet you at some public place in the evening. However, my stars decreed otherwise, as they generally do, when I have any favour to request of them. I think you would have been surprised at my figure, for, since our last meeting, I am reduced four stone in weight. I then weighed fourteen stone seven pound, and now only _ten stone and a half_. I have disposed of my _superfluities_ by means of hard exercise and abstinence.

Should your Harrow engagements allow you to visit town between this and February, I shall be most happy to see you in Albemarle Street. If I am not so fortunate, I shall endeavour to join you for an afternoon at Harrow, though, I fear, your cellar will by no means contribute to my cure. As for my worthy preceptor, Dr. B., [2] our encounter would by no means prevent the _mutual endearments_ he and I were wont to lavish on each other. We have only spoken once since my departure from Harrow in 1805, and then he politely told Tatersall [3] I was not a proper a.s.sociate for his pupils. This was long before my strictures in verse; but, in plain _prose_, had I been some years older, I should have held my tongue on his perfections. But, being laid on my back, when that schoolboy thing was written--or rather dictated--expecting to rise no more, my physician having taken his sixteenth fee, and I his prescription, I could not quit this earth without leaving a memento of my constant attachment to Butler in grat.i.tude for his manifold good offices.

I meant to have been down in July; but thinking my appearance, immediately after the publication, would be construed into an insult, I directed my steps elsewhere. Besides, I heard that some of the boys had got hold of my _Libellus_, contrary to my wishes certainly, for I never transmitted a single copy till October, when I gave one to a boy, since gone, after repeated importunities. You will, I trust, pardon this egotism. As you had touched on the subject I thought some explanation necessary. Defence I shall not attempt, _Hic murus aheneus esto, nil conscire sibi_--and "so on" (as Lord Baltimore [4] said on his trial for a rape)--I have been so long at Trinity as to forget the conclusion of the line; but though I cannot finish my quotation, I will my letter, and entreat you to believe me, gratefully and affectionately, etc.