<0Ta 'PA^t/XS? /z~~*^ ■1 A MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OP LORD BYRON HOWMITT AND BRIMMER, PRINTERS. 10, FRITH STREET, SOHO. 3***^ of TH6 u»w* *SfPf of , w Lord btrok. //>v// //. ' v O . lendvn. Publish MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OP THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD BYRON, WITH ANECDOTES OF SOME OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES. of .cal.ii LONDON PRINTED FOR HENRY COLBURN AND CO. 1822. OF THE UNIVERSITY OF TO WILLIAM GIFFORD, ESQ. Sir, The intent of this address is neither to pay you a compliment, nor to court your favour. The one you would despise, and of the other the writer has no need. But though praise may be beneath your notice, and personal motives are out of the question ; this inscription conveys an eulogium of substantial value, since it is a call upon you for the application of great talents, and the employment of powerful means, in a cause worthy of your best exer- tions. Having already contributed, perhaps 211223 VI more than any man in this generation, to preserve our poetry from contamination, and our public morals from injury, your duties appear to multiply in proportion to the ser- vices you have performed. So long as there are enemies in the field, the privilege of su- perannuation cannot be allowed to him who has hitherto shown no decay of his faculties. The presence of Nestor in the camp of the Greeks, strengthened their councils and ani- mated their cottimanders ; but the fate of Ilium was of trivial import when compared with the morality of literature, in which are involved the interests of religion, and the welfare of society. At the head of the court of cri- ticism, you have done so much for these great concerns, as to make us adopt the wish " that age may be the lot of any chief but thee/' All virtue, however, is mixed ; and it is to be regretted that the best men too often seek excuses for the neglect of what they are conscious ought to have been diligently Vll discharged. Complicated cares and increas- ing infirmities, the fear of giving offence, and the tenderness of friendship, are all ready- apologies for sluggish indifference and want of zeal, when honour calls upon every man to buckle on his armour in the defence of truth. To what cause may be attributed the forbearance hitherto manifested towards the most popular, and at the same time the most profane, poet of the present day, it would be useless to enquire. But it is a lamen- table fact; and the friends of social order see with indignation, that the author of " Don Juan" and " Cain" has been suf- fered to asGend in the climax of prostituted genius, without meeting with that exposure and castigation in his progress, which might have restrained his rashness, if it did not reform his principles or correct his man- ners. Vlll You, Mr. GifFord, have had the honour, such as it is, of being praised uniformly by the noble lord; and in that distinction, it seems, you stand proudly pre-eminent; for there is hardly any other living writer to whom he has not dealt out nearly as much abuse as adulation. The voice of the public had long before this fixed you upon an immovable basis ; so that the eulogies of Lord Byron, however strongly perfumed they might be, were of no value ; but on the contrary had a suspicious cha- racter, and carried with them more of the appearance of fear than respect ; like those offerings which the pagans presented to cer- tain of their divinities, to propitiate their fa- vour and prevent them from doing mischief. Since then, the right honourable poet has rendered you, or himself, a marvellous piece of kindness in stating that his last performance IX was submitted to your examination previous to its publication. It is true, he has also acknowledged that you disapproved of the piece, so far at least as to advise its sup- pression. Notwithstanding this, the "Mys- tery of Cain" made its appearance, in spite of your opinion ; whence the world may esti- mate the sincerity of the noble lord, in con- sulting the judgment of wise men and then abiding by his own. There is nothing sur- prising in his lordship's resolution ; but it is matter of astonishment and regret, that any communion at all should have subsisted be- tween the conductor of the first Periodical Journal in Europe, and the author of such a performance as " Cain ;" since the circum- stance seems to account for the little notice that has been taken in the Quarterly Review of the literary delinquencies of the noble lord. But as the fact has been divulged, it be- comes incumbent upon you, Sir, to rouse from your torpidity, and, setting aside all private considerations, to make it evident that the same principle actuates you now as when, in the Baviad and the M^viAD,you put down the witlings and libellers of a former day. The objects against whom you directed those powerful weapons, were harmless ephemera, or at the most but troublesome insects, com- pared with the chartered Libertine who has gone forth defying heaven and earth. In your hands, Mr. GifTord, is placed the only effectual instrument that can bring this haughty spirit to a sense of shame and a course of propriety. This, perhaps, will be called the language of intolerance, and an incitement to persecu- tion. Be it so : — the world has not now to learn the meaning of those words when used by men who, while they are themselves the most fiery inquisitors and torturers of charac- ters, cannot endure that their own evil deeds XI and the consequences of their dangerous principles should be made manifest. But, Sir, you are not to be told that strong argument is the reverse of intolerance, and that the detection of falsehood, instead of being persecution, is a benefit conferred upon society. Were the case otherwise, and were Vice and Error to have full liberty to walk up and down the earth without exposure and confutation, because that such an opposition tends to abridge the means of mischief, then is it high time that you should close your critical labours, and, by consigning all the volumes of your valuable journal to the flames, proclaim your recantation aloud to the world. But if you are not prepared for such a sacrifice, and if you still think it a duty to continue in the office which you have hitherto filled with general credit, let it be seen that neither the fear nor the love of man has Xll any influence over your mind in the adminis- tration of justice. I am, With great respect for your virtue and admiration of your talents, **** ******* London, May 1, 1822. CONTENTS Page Introduction - - - 1 Chapter I. — Genealogical History. — Grant of New- stead Abbey. — Sir John Byron created a Peer by Charles the First. — His Descendants. — Trial of William Lord Byron, for murder.— Memoir of Admiral Byron. — Account of his Son, John Byron 15 Chapter II. — Early life of Lord Byron. — Character of Isabella, Countess of Carlisle. — His Lordship's studies at Harrow, and respect for his Tutor. — His Opinion for the poetic Classics controverted. — Re- moval to Cambridge, and reflections upon that University - - - - - 44 Chapter 111. — Publication of the " Hours of Idleness ;" — Critique of the Edinburgh Reviewers thereon ; and the noble Author's severe Retort - - 62 Chapter V. — Anecdote of the Duke of Wharton.— Similar one of Lord Byron. — Monument to his dog. Inscription on a skull made into a cup. — Amorous Connexions. — Anecdote of false Sensibility.- Lord Byron made the subject of a novel - - - 85 Chapter VI. — Voyage to Lisbon. — Assassination. — Travels in Spain. — Patriotic War. — Voyage to Greece. — Albania. — Ali Pacha. — Anecdotes. — Highlanders. — Athens. — Spoliations. — Poem of Minerva. — Tweddell. — Literary Pursuits. — Eman- cipation of the Greeks. — Adventure in the Helles- pont. — Return to England - - 97 XIV CONTENTS. Page v Chapter VII.— Advantages of Travelling to Poets ; Exhihited in Childe Harold. — Observations on that Poem. — Lines on the Princess Charlotte of Wales. — Address on opening Drury-Lane Theatre. — Sale of Newstead Abbey ; and failure of the Contract - 157 v/ Chapter VIII. — Publication of " The Giaour." — Plan of the Poem. — Its beauties and defects. — Um made of the story of Sisera. — Account of the " Bride of Abydos." — Its dangerous tendency - - 180 ^CHAPTER IX.— Publication of " The Corsair."— Beau- ties and defects of that Poem. — Supposed origin of the Piece. — Dedication to Thomas Moore. — Libe- rality of Lord Byron. — The Story of Conrad resumed in ft Lara." — Character of that Poem. — Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte - 194 Chapter X. — Marriage of Lord Byron. — Character of the Hebrew Melodies. — Observations on Devotional Poetry. — Publication of the " Siege of Corinth" and " Parisina." — Criticisms on those Poems - 215 Chapter XI.— Birth of a Daughter to Lord Byron. — Differences with his Lady. — She quits his Residence. —Causes of the Separation. — The Lady's conduct approved. — Strange procedure of his Lordshp. — The Editor of the Morning Chronicle's interference. — Lord Byron's Verses to his Wife, and Satire upon her Governess. — His Lordship leaves the kingdom - 230 Chapter XII. — On the Banishment of Ovid. — Lord Byron's Visit to the Field of Waterloo. — Fortress of Ehrenbreitstein. — French General Marceau. — Pyramid of Bones at Morat. — Clarens, on the Lake of Geneva. — Rousseau. — Monks of St. Bernard. — Superstition and Infidelity contrasted. — Descrip- tion of the Jungfraw. — Departure for Italy - 250 CONTENTS. XV Page . Chapter XIII. — Monody on Sheridan. — Palpable Imitation of Ariosto. — Poem of the Prisoner of Chillon. — Story of Bonnivard. — Publication of the Third Canto of * Childe Harold" - - 274 vtlH after XIV.— Marloe and Lord Byron compared. — Account of the dramatic Poem of " Manfred/' — Origin and tendency of that piece. — Ferrara. — The ^ Lament of Tasso" - 295 •/ Chapter XV. — Rome. — Completion of " Childe Harold." — Fall of Venice. — An Italian Landscape by Moonlight Statue of Venus. — Conclusion of the Poem. — Deformities.— Poetical Tale of " Beppo." — Allusion to Peter Pindar and Whistlecraft.— A Literary Imposition practised on Lord Byron, in the Story of the " Vampyre." — Publication of " Ma- zeppa" - - • - - 310 * Chapter XVI — Observation on Italy by Ascham.— Its application to Lord Byron. — Degradation of his Poetic Genius— Instanced in " Don Juan."— That character a counterpart of Childe Harold.— Family Sketches. — Outline of the Story. — Its gross immora- lities and profanity - 327 Chapter XVII. — Controversy on the Character of Pope, and Poetic Composition. — Attack on Mr. Bowles. — His Defence. — Letter of Lord Byron.— Reply of Mr. Bowles. — Observations on the Dispute 344 Chapter XVIII. — Dramatic Incidents in the History of Venice. — Publication of the Tragedy of "Marino Fallen). 1 '— Performed without success.— Injunction obtained against the representation. — " Prophecy of Dante."— Tragedies of " Sardanapalus" and the " Two Foscari." - - - - 358 XT1 CONTENTS, Page Chapter XIX.— Origin of Plays on Religious Sub- jects.— Sacred Dramas, Ancient and Modern. — 111 adapted to the Stage. — Account of " Cain, a Mystery/'— Dedication.— Bayle Manicheism.— In- decency.— Prae-Adamites.— Cuvier.— The Piece pi- rated — Injunction refused Milton justified.— Con- duct of the Publisher.— Anecdote of Curll.— Lord Byron's Letter - - 370 Chapter XX.— Spanish Proverb. Lord Byron's At- tacks on Mr. Southey. — Reply of the latter, in his " Vision of Judgment." — Term of the " Satanic School."— Retort of Lord Byron.— His Opinions on the French Revolution— On Politics and Religion.— Mr. Southey's Letter.— Parody on the " Vision of Judgment" - 389 Chapter XXI. — Anecdote of Dryden. — His conduct contrasted with that of Lord Byron. — Projected Literary Institution at Pisa. — Anecdote of Voltaire. The Associates of Lord Byron.— -The writings of Shelley recommended by him. — English Journal at Pisa. — Lord Byron's Liberality, — Increase of his Fortune.— Law suit. — Impropriety of his conduct. — Review of his personal and literary character. —Con- clusion. 407 INTRODUCTION, " POETRY, especially heroical," says the great Bacon, " seems to be raised altogether from a noble foundation, which makes much for the dignity of man's nature. For, seeing this sensible world is in dignity inferior to the soul of man, Poesy seems to endow human nature with that which History denies, and to give satisfaction to the mind with at least the shadows of things, where the substance cannot be had. For if the matter be thoroughly considered, a strong argument may be drawn from Poesy, that a more stately greatness of things, a more perfect order, and a more beautiful variety, delight the soul of man, than any way can be found in nature since the Fall. Wherefore, seeing the acts and events which are the B % INTRODUCTION. subjects of true History, are not of that amplitude as to content the mind of man, Poesy is ready at hand to feign acts more heroical. Because true History reports the successes of business not proportionable to the merit of virtues and vices, Poesy corrects it, and presents events and fortunes according to desert, and according to the law of Providence. Because true History, through the frequent satiety and simili- tude of things, works a distaste and misprision in the mind of man, Poesy cheereth and refresheth the soul, chanting things rare and various, and full of vicissitudes. So as Poesy serveth and conferreth to delectation, magnanimity, and morality ; and therefore it may seem deservedly to have some participation of divineness, because it doth raise the mind, and exalt the spirit with high raptures, by proportioning the shows of things to the desires of the mind, and not submitting the mind to things, as reason and his- tory do ; and by these allurements and congruities, whereby it cherisheth the soul of man, joined also with concert of music, whereby it may more sweetly insinuate itself, it hath won such success, that it hath been in estimation even in ruder times, and barbarous nations, when other learning stood excluded." INTRODUCTION. 3 Poetry, therefore, being the highest effort of ori- ginal genius, may justly claim for its professors, what indeed has always been conceded to them, the fore- most rank in the temple of literary fame. To the powerful influence of this fascinating art on language and opinion, the experience of all ages, and the history of every country, bear abundant testimony ; but on the utility of poetry to any great moral pur- poses, there is a diversity of judgment among'' the wisest men of ancient and modern times. While Aristotle went so far as to say, of poetry, that it is better adapted for instruction than history ; Plato, who was more of a harmonist than his pupil, and whose works are full of poetic beauty, denounced Homer as dangerous because he dealt in fiction ; and in the same spirit of scrupulous morality, the same great philosopher, when framing an ideal republic of perfection, expressly banished all poets from it, as professing an art inimical to truth. However strange and severe this censure may seem, it has been coun- tenanced by a sage of our own, who, at the very time that he was employed in immortalizing the bards of his country, and in forming a body of criticism more 4 INTRODUCTION. valuable than the Poetics of Aristotle, ventured to remark on the amiable character of West, the trans- lator of Pindar, that he was one of the few poets to whom the grave might appear without its terrors. Plato has been animadverted upon in many elabo- rate dissertations, and Johnson has suffered much reproach for a reflection which it were well if the history of letters could prove to be unjust ; but until that is the case, the main question in regard to the superior moral efficacy of the poetic art must remain unsettled. Poesy, however, has its various and com- manding excellencies ; for besides " raising the mind and exalting the spirit with high raptures," as Bacon observes, it brings out innumerable beauties from the immense storehouse of nature, that would otherwise have lain concealed, or been passed over without pro- ducing the least emotion : it also creates new beings and associations, which, if they cannot be identified with any realities in the external world, serve at least to excite astonishment at the power of the human intellect ; and though it originates and centres solely in the imagination, it contributes material aid to the reasoning faculty by the force of illustration and com- parison. INTRODUCTION. 5 But farther than all this, Poetry has occasionally a great influence on the state of society, by the turn which it gives to public taste, opinion, and manners. Thus Virgil reconciled, in a great degree, the Roman people to imperial authority ; and, in more modern times, Chaucer certainly paved the way for the Refor- mation, and the dissolution of the religious orders, by the ridiculous light in which his popular tales placed the monks and friars. Such then being the magic power of this delectable art, it becomes a duty as well as a pleasure to examine into the character of the prevailing poetry of the age and country in which we live, as thereby a correct idea may be formed of the advance that has been made both in literary taste and moral sentiment. Perhaps at no period were there so many contemporary poets in one country as are now to be found in this island ; and though, where the candidates for distinction are numerous, the palm of excellence can be but the lot of few, it is a proud triumph to literature that ori- ginal genius, instead of being on the decline, is flou- rishing in full vigour, and putting forth new shoots every day. In this luxuriant enclosure, this " wilder- 6 INTRODUCTION. ness of sweets," one object towers above the rest in lofty and fantastic majesty, demanding universal homage, and certainly attracting general admiration. It is beyond question that the writings of Lord Byron have thrown the works of the other poets of the day comparatively into shade ; and this celebrity has, with the accustomed effect of popularity, raised a host of imitators, who, if they cannot catch a portion of their master's genius, make up for the deficiency by aping his misanthropy, and exceeding him, if possible, in licentiousness. Thus standing, as he does, at the head of a new order, or school of poetry, which, whatever be its period of duration, cannot but affect the manners as well as the literature of the time in which it lasts ; no excuse is necessary for an exami- nation into the merits of one, whose performances directly and avowedly tend to produce a revolution in the feelings and principles of mankind. Where such is the aim of a writer, whose singularly versatile talents, elevated station, and peculiar circumstances, arm him with more than ordinary power to enable him to carry his object into effect, it becomes a duty to lay open his personal history, that it may be seen whe-. INTRODUCTION. 7 ther he, who seeks to create a new state of things, or rather to disorganize all that constitutes social union, has, by the propriety of his own conduct, established the right to be a dictator in morals, as well as in poetry. Living biography, if such a term may be used, is of a very delicate nature. Yet there want not sufficient authorities to warrant the practice of publishing the memoirs of men of eminence, while they are still shining above the horizon. The younger Patin did honour to his brother professors at Padua, by writing their history; — the life and letters of that learned phenomenon, Anna Maria a Schurman, were printed with her own consent ; and John Le Clerc published, as the production of a friend, his own memoirs for the double purpose of showing what a great scholar he was, and of abusing his antagonists Burman and Bentley, who had levelled his critical reputation in the dust ; — in our own day, one of the best writers and most amiable characters that the republic of letters can boast, has prefixed an interesting account of his eventful life to his translation of the first of Roman satirists ; and to crown all, we are credibly informed, that Lord Byron himelf has ventured, like the late ve- teran Cumberland, to write his own history, with an 8 INTRODUCTION. injunction, however, that it shall not appear till he is numbered with his ancestors. Rich as such a piece of autobiography may be, both in style and incident, it will exhibit to those who shall chance to behold it, a veiled and not a naked portraiture of the noble writer's mind and actions. It is neither to be expected, nor desired, that a memoir written under his peculiar circumstances, and at so critical a period of his life, should display an exact representation of the master passion that rules the author's heart. Rousseau, indeed, left behind him a reflected image of his own character, sketched in all the minute accuracy of moral deformity ; but who is there that would wish to see another instance of Confessions, in which there are no traces of humility, conscience, and respect for the common sense of mankind ? The philosopher of Geneva, if such a splenetic spirit de- served the name of philosopher, was frank enough to own that he chose rather to be remarkable for his paradoxes than his prejudices; the plain sense of which amounted to this, that he was ready to sacri- fice every thing to the love of singularity. Thus in declaiming against prejudice, he made it appear that INTRODUCTION. 9 he was the slave of the very worst of all prejudices — a selfish, ungovernable pride of intellect. Rousseau, in fact, made an idol of his own genius, and then quar- relled with his contemporaries for not falling down and worshipping the image which he had set up, as the very model of mental excellence. Impatient of restraint, he denounced war upon all received prin- ciples, and every established institution, as derogatory to the liberty and independence of man, while at the same time he assumed the right of dictating, with more than oriental despotism, his opinions to others, without considering himself amenable to any laws of criticism or morals. This extraordinary character had, it must be ad- mitted, a brilliant imagination ; but as it was suffered to run wild for want of self-controul and proper direc- tion, it produced more weeds than flowers ; and, what is worse, the mind of Rousseau thereby became so morbid that he at length grew fonder of poison than of nutriment, and the deadly nightshade was more acceptable to his taste than the fruits of Paradise. The false views of human nature to which he had habituated himself, made him take a delight in the 10 INTRODUCTION. horrible conceptions of his fancy, till at last he be- lieved that the world was peopled with nothing but vice and misery. What he felt in the dark chaos of his own perturbed brain, he supposed to be the actual condition of society, in which, according to his notion, it was his misfortune to be the object of general hatred on account of his superior virtue and talent. Yet the wayward caprices and dangerous extrava- gancies of this strange man have met with admirers, and even with apologists, who have justified him in his utmost aberrations, on the ground that as a sublime genius he was not to be tied down by vulgar rules to the ordinary duties of life. Thus genius is not only a sufficient atonement for mental errors, but for vicious practices; and the man who possesses this high gift in a supreme degree, may boldly set the laws of social order at defiance, and then presume to rush where angels fear to tread. But the laws of truth are immutable and universal ; they allow no exemption in favour of pre-eminent ability ; and therefore he who violates them, must be responsible not only to the Judge of all thoughts and deeds, but even to the generation in which he is cast, INTRODUCTION. 11 if his opinions and works shall produce an improper influence upon the state of the community. In such a case every individual is interested as a member of the commonwealth, the happiness of which it is his duty to promote by every means in his power ; and by none more than in the endeavour to check the current of baneful principles, especially when those principles are sent forth clothed with the attractive ornaments of literary elegance, and recommended by the potent spells of rank and popularity. It is not easy to open the eyes of those who are wilfully blind, and it is still more difficult to make a proud man sensible of his folly. Still something should be done to abate an increasing evil; and though lawless wit will, in spite of remonstrance, retain its votaries, the poison may be counteracted by an antidote. It is obvious, however, that the remedy must be of a caustic nature, to be of any powerful effect. Works of reasoning may be encoun- tered by argumentation, till their fallacies are made sufficiently clear to require no farther notice : but errors of the imagination are not to be written down by logic ; for their strength lies in fiction, and having 12 INTRODUCTION. no tangible principles, they wound and are irrefutable. Didactic poetry, indeed, is of a more substantial form, and, therefore, as in the case of Pope's Essay on Man, the sophistry may be detected, because the false doctrine as well as the consequences of it, lie open to exposure, and are capable of confutation. But this is a species of the art that takes a narrow range, and is limited to few objects compared with the boundless regions of fable and feeling, lively invention, and meta- physical sentiment. It is in these wilds that the witcheries of moral delusion prevail, which prove so dangerous to the young and inexperienced, who are apt to take upon trust whatever has the charm of external dignity and meretricious beauty. To undeceive those who are liable to be lost in this enchanted land, is, therefore, as noble and godlike an act of charity, as it was in the Hierarch, who " from Adam's eyes the film remov'd, Which that false fruit that promis'd clearer sight Had bred ; then purg'd with euphrasy and rue The visual nerve." Such is the direct object of this biographical and critical memoir of one of the most prominent charac- INTRODUCTION. 13 ters of the present age, who, by his wonderful powers, and fatal use of them, has acquired so dreadful a dis- tinction in the world of letters, as calls for the only effectual means of abridging his influence by a detec- tion of his errors. Beyond this salutary point the writer does not pro- fess or wish to go; for his aim is truth, and not satire ; a simple exposition of facts, and not an ex- aggeration of failings. But if the life of a man is an illustration of his works, and if these, however elegant they may be, have a perilous tendency to make ship- wreck the best interests of society, then a full and candid examination of the author's history is neces- sary in order to correct the mischief likely to be pro- duced by the influence of his name, and the popularity of his writings. To use the language of a sensible French critic — " Comme il n'y a point de loix civiles qui defendent a personne de se faire auteur, et d'ecrire pour le public; il semble qu'il ny en ait pas aussi, pour retrancher ou reformer la licence que chacun prend de se rendre le censeur ou le juge de ces sortes de 14 INTRODUCTION. personnes." — " As there are no civil laws to forbid any one from being an author, and writing for the public ; so neither are there any, as it should seem, to restrain or correct the liberty which every person takes to become the censor and judge of such cha- racters." — Baillet. CHAPTER I. Genealogical History. — Grant of Newstead Abbey. Sir John Byron created a Peer by Charles the First. — His Descendants. — Trial of William Lord Byron, for murder. — Memoir of Admiral Byron. — Account of his Son, John Byron. THE family of Buron or Byron, for the orthography continued unsettled till the reign of Henry the Second, ascends to the Conquest, at which period there were two potent barons of this name, Erneis and Ralph ; but what relation they bore to each other, antiquaries and genealogists cannot determine. The first of these lords, Erneis, who appears to have been the most considerable of the two, held numerous manors in the counties of York and Lincoln; as Ralph, the direct ancestor of the present lord, did in Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire, in which last county he had his seat, 16 GENEALOGICAL HISTORY. called Horestan Castle, from whence he took his title. To this Ralph succeeded Hugh de Buron, Lord of Horestan, who with his son Hugh, in the ninth year of the reign of King Stephen, gave to the monastery of Lenton in Nottinghamshire, the church of Ossington, to which grant was afterwards added that of Horsley, being the parochial church of Horestan. This last-mentioned Hugh de Buron retired from secular affairs, and professed himself a monk in the hermitage of Kersale, belonging to the priory of Lenton. He was succeeded in his estates by Sir Roger de Buron, who gave some lands to the monastery of Swinsted in the reign of Henry the Second. His son Robert de Byron, as the name now began to be spelt, increased the possessions and consequence of his family by marrying Cecilia, the daughter and sole heir of Sir Richard Clayton, of Clayton in Lancashire, at which seat the Byrons fixed their seat, till the reign of Henry the Eighth. This Sir Robert was succeeded by a son of the same name, whose two sons distinguished themselves with great glory, in the military service, under Edward the First. Sir John de Byron, the elder of these warriors, became governor of the city of York; and from him descended Sir John, who served in the GENEALOGICAL HISTORY. M wars of France, under Edward the Third, by whom he was knighted at the memorable siege of Calais. He was succeeded by his brother, Sir Richard de Byron ; whose widow, in 1397, made a vow of perpe- tual chastity before the Archbishop of York. Her son John, who received the honour of knighthood in the third year of Henry the Fifth, was succeeded in his estates by his second son Nicholas, whose son and heir, Sir John, joined Henry Earl of Richmond, on his landing at Milford, and was knighted by him at that place. He fought gallantly at the battle of Bos worth, for which he was afterwards made Constable of Not- tingham Castle, and Steward and Warden of Sher- wood Forest. At his death, in 1480, he left his lands to Nicholas his brother, who was made one of the knights of the Bath, at the marriage of Arthur Prince of Wales, in 1502. This Sir Nicholas had only one son, Sir John Byron, who was made by Henry the Eighth Steward of Manchester and Rochdale, and Lieutenant of the Forest of Sherwood. On the disso- lution of the monasteries, he came in for no small portion of the spoils, being rewarded with the grant of the church and priory of Newstead, in the County of Nottingham, together with the manor of Papel- c 18 ROYAL GRANTS. wick, the rectory of the same, and the lands thereunto adjoining. This religious house, called Newstead, that is Novus Locus, or New Place, was a monastery of canons regular of St. Augustine, dedicated to God and the Virgin Mary, by the founder, Henry the Second, who endowed it with the church and town of Papelwick, as well as other considerable appurtenances. The same king afterwards gave to the monks of New- stead, long and large wastes lying about the mo- nastery, within the Forest, also a park of ten acres to be enclosed as they pleased, out of the run of the Verdurers, and a field of arable land, for a grange. Other grants of considerable value were made to this royal foundation, from time to time, by different benefactors ; so that at the spoliation of the works of piety, and the alienation of them from the charitable objects for which they were set apart, the yearly revenues of Newstead Abbey, were estimated at some- what more than two hundred pounds, a rate, consi- dering all the circumstances, equivalent to a modern income of four thousand a year. NEWSTEAD ABBEY. 19 The Abbey now became the family seat of its new possessors, and so it has continued till the present time, though shorn of its honours, and exhibiting, in its dilapidated state, a melancholy relique of ancient splendour and hospitality. The worthy Evelyn, in his account of a tour through England, in the summer of 1654, has the following note : " We passed through Sherwood Forest, accounted the most extensive in England ; then Papelwick, an incomparable vista, with the pretty castle near it. Thence we saw New- stead Abbey, belonging to the Lord Byron, situate much like Fontainebleau in France ; capable of being made a noble seat, accommodated as it is with brave woods and streams : it has yet remaining the front of a glorious Abbey Church." To this venerable mansion, its present noble owner consecrated the first effusion of his muse, when only fifteen years of age, in the following stanzas : Through thy battlements, Newstead, hollow winds whistle, Thou, the hall of my fathers, art gone to decay ; In thy once-smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle Have choak'd up the rose, which late bloom'd in the way. 20 I SIR NICHOLAS BYROtf, Of the mail-covered barons, who proudly to battle Led their vassals from Europe to Palestine's plain, The escutcheon and shield, which every blast rattle, Are the only sad vestiges now that remain. Sir John Byron, who dislodged the monks of the Abbey of Newstead, left that and his other posses- sions to his fourth son of the same name, on whom Queen Elizabeth bestowed the honour of knighthood, in 1579- His eldest son, Sir Nicholas, served with distinction in the Low Country wars ; and when the great Rebellion broke out, he was one of the first to take up arms in the defence of the Royal cause. After the battle of Edge Hill, where he displayed his cou- rage, he was made Governor of Chester, which city he defended gallantly against the Parliamentarians, though at last he fell into their hands. Lord Cla- rendon speaks highly of his character, and of the exertions made by him in Cheshire to assist the king. " He was," says the noble historian, " a person of great affability and dexterity, as well as martial knowledge, which gave great life to the designs of the well-affected, and, with the encouragement of some SIR JOHN BYKON. 2J gentlemen of North Wales, he in a short time raised such a power of horse and foot, as made frequent skirmishes with the enemy, sometimes with notable advantage, never with signal loss." Sir John Byron, the younger brother of Sir Nicholas, was made Knight of the Bath, at the coronation of King James the First. He married Anne, the eldest daughter of Sir Richard Molyneux, Bart, by whom he had eleven sons and a daughter. The eldest of the sons served under his uncle in the Low Countries, and in 1641, when the House of Commons complained against Colonel Lunsford, as being an unfit person to be governor of the Tower, the King appointed this Sir John Byron to that office. In a short time, however, the new Lieutenant became no less obnoxious to the refractory spirits in the city and parliament, than his predecessor; and he was ordered to attend at the bar of the House, to answer certain charges alleged against him by the sectaries. Sir John, instead of complying with this mandate, refused peremptorily to leave his post without the king's command. Upon this the Commons applied to the Lords, to join them in a petition to the King, praying him to remove Sir 22 SIR JOHN BYRON, John Byron ; but though the Peers in other respects gave too much way to the encroachments of the Lower House, they had firmness enough in this instance to reject the proposition. The City, however, petitioned the King on this subject, and, among other grievances, complained of the u preparations made in the Tower, and the calling of divers cannoniers into that fortress/' To this his Majesty replied, that " for the Tower, he wondered that, having removed a servant of good trust and reputation from that charge, only to satisfy the fears of the City, and put in another of unques- tionable reputation and known ability, the petitioners should still entertain those fears." But some time afterwards the King, from a dispo- sition to conciliate the malcontents, thought proper to remove Sir John Byron, who in the summer of 1642 was employed in escorting the plate contri- buted by the University of Oxford, for his royal master's use. This important trust he discharged with such satisfaction, that the learned body conferred on him, the same year, the honorary degree of Doctor in the Civil Law. Shortly after this he bore a distin- guished part in the battle of Edge Hill ; as also in CREATED LORD BYRON. 23 that of Newbury, where six of his brothers, besides himself, were actively engaged. For these services Sir John Byron received a patent of peerage, dated at Oxford, October 24, 1643, creating him Baron Byron, of Rochdale, in the County of Lancaster, with the remainder of the title to his brothers, and their male issue respectively. As a farther testimony of the royal favour, Lord Byron was made Field- Marshal-General of all his Majesty's forces in Worcestershire, Shropshire, Cheshire, and North Wales ; and when his uncle Sir Nicholas was made prisoner by the rebels, he was appointed to the government of the city of Ches- ter in his room. In this capacity he rendered great service to the Royal cause, particularly by defeating Sir Thomas Fairfax, and relieving Montgomery Cas- tle, for which the Parliament passed a vote, except- ing him from pardon and sequestrating his estates. On the other hand, the King reposed the most entire confidence in this loyal subject, and appointed him governor to the Duke of York, with whom he escaped to Holland, when the unfortunate Monarch became a prisoner in the Isle of Wight. Lord Byron after- 24 HIS DEATH. wards accompanied his royal pupil in Flanders, under the immortal Turenne ; but he did not long survive that campaign, dying at Paris in 1652. Though married twice, he left no issue, and was succeeded in the title and estates by his second brother, Sir Richard Byron, who was knighted by Charles the First, for his conduct at the battle of Edge Hill. He was also appointed governor first of Appleby Castle, in Westmoreland, and next of Newark, which place he defended with great honour. This second Lord Byron died in 1679, and was succeeded by his eldest son William, who married Elizabeth the daughter of John Viscount Chaworth of the kingdom of Ireland ; by whom he had five sons, all of whom died young, except William, the fourth lord, born in 1 669- He be- came Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Prince George of Denmark, with whom he was a great favourite, His first wife, Mary, daughter of John Earl of Bridgewater, died of the small pox, eleven weeks after her nuptials. By his second wife, the daughter of William Bentinck Earl of Portland, he had three sons, who all died before their father. His third wife, Frances, daughter of William Lord Berkeley, of Stratton, brought him five sons and a daughter. WILLIAM, THE FIFTH LOUD BYRON. 25 William the eldest son, born in 1722, succeeded to the family honours on the death of his father, in 1736. He entered into the naval service, and became lieu- tenant of the Victory, under Admiral Balchen ; which ship he had but just left, before she was lost on the rocks of Alderney. In 1763, he was made Master of the Stag-hounds ; but in 1765, he was sent to the Tower, and tried before the House of Peers, for kill- ing his relation and neighbour, Mr. Chaworth, in a duel fought at the Star and Garter Tavern, in Pail- Mall. It appeared in evidence, that Lord Byron's passions, which were at all times boisterous, carried him so far in the dispute with Mr. Chaworth, that nothing would satisfy him, short of fighting in the room where the quarrel commenced. They accord- ingly fought, by the dim light of a single candle, and Mr. Chaworth, who was the less skilful of the two, received a mortal wound. He lived long enough, however, to make his will, and to impart some parti- culars, which induced the coroner's jury to return a verdict of wilful murder against the noble lord ; who, on the 16th of April, took his trial in Westminster Hall ; when the public curiosity was so great, that tickets of admission were publicly sold for six gui- 26 HIS TKIAL. neas, and found eager purchasers. The trial lasted two days ; and at the conclusion, all the peers present, amounting to about two hundred and fifty, pronounced the prisoner guilty of manslaughter; but on being brought up for judgment, he pleaded his privilege, and was discharged. This lord married Elizabeth the daughter of Charles Shaw, Esq. of Besthorp Hall, in the County of Norfolk, by whom he had three sons; but all of them died without issue before their father, who departed this life at Newstead Abbey, May 17, 1798. #* One of the most remarkable members of this cele- brated family was the Honourable John Byron, second son of William, the fourth lord, by his third wife. He was born at Newstead Abbey, on the 8th of Novem- ber, 1723 ; and at an early age entered into the naval service, in which he suffered more hardships perhaps than any man of his time. In 1740, he embarked as a midshipman on board the Wager, one of the ships fitted out for an expedition to the South Seas, under the command of Commodore Anson. The Wager was an old Indiaman, and was purchased by Govern- ment to serve as a store-ship; so that, being very deeply ADMIRAL BYRON. 27 laden, she sailed heavily, and was incapable of keep- ing company with the rest of the squadron. In a squall of wind, off the southernmost mouth of the straits Le Maire, she lost sight of all her companions, and soon afterwards carried away her mizen mast. The commander, Captain Cheap, then endeavoured to make the island of Soccoro, the appointed place of rendezvous, but in vain ; for the gale increased to such a degree that no exertions of the crew could prevent the ship from falling upon a lee shore; where, the rudder and tiller being gone, she struck between two rocks. This was in the middle of the night; and when day broke, the people got the boats out ; but Mr. Byron, who with the captain went on shore, could not save a single article of his clothes, except what he had on his back. The land was, if possible, more dreadful than the sea, nothing appearing all around but a wild solitude, alike destitute of animals and ve- getation. This dismal spot lay to the northward of the Straits of Magellan ; but whether it formed part of an island or of the continent, the sufferers had ho means of determining. From the wreck so little was saved at first, that when the people landed, they had no more than two or three pounds of biscuit-dust and a sea- 28 HIS SHIPWRECK. gull as a breakfast, to be divided among one hundred and forty men, after having been without food eight- and-forty hours. To such a pitch of misery were they at last reduced, that the gallinaso, the carrion crow of this inhospitable coast, which occasionally came to devour the carcases of the drowned men on the shore, was regarded as a dainty. Some Indians, who rowed into the bay, brought them a few trifling articles, and some provisions were obtained from the vessel ; but not in a sufficient quantity to supply the present neces- sities of the men, who to increase their misfortune, had, on the first striking of the ship among the breakers, made free with all the stores and liquors they could find. All order was at an end ; and while one party resolved to pursue a wild journey into the interior, another body determined upon seizing the long boat, which they at last did, leaving the captain, whom they hated, behind. Mr. Byron joined these adven- turers ; but on discovering their intentions towards the captain, he quitted them ; though in so doing he be- came exposed to the horror of starving, for the fugi- tives were so unfeeling that they carried away with them every morsel of food that could be obtained from the hull of the wreck. The number remaining on the DEVICES. 29 island, for such it was now found to be, amounted to twenty ; and the only boats they had left, were the barge and yawl. Of the distress to which they were reduced some idea may be formed from the circum- stance, that Mr. Byron had an Indian dog, to which he became much attached, but nothing could prevail with the crew to spare the animal from slaughter ; and three weeks after this the owner himself was glad to make a meal of the rotten paws and skin which he found on the place where the poor creature had been killed. Among other devices which the seamen had recourse to for a precarious subsistence, one of the most remarkable was that of the boatswain's mate, who having got a water-cask, scuttled it, and lashing it to two logs, made a sort of boat, with which he put out to sea, and succeeded in getting fish and wild fowl, when his comrades on shore were starving. To get away from this inhospitable clime, which, as a great writer says, seems to have been cast aside from human use, the captain came to a resolution of embarking in the two boats, with the hope of being able to reach the island of Chiloe. The attempt was made ; but after a struggle of two months, during which the crews lived upon seal, 30 DISTRESSES. sea-weed, and tangle, they were driven back by the force of the current to Wager's Island, the place from whence they set out. Their fate appeared now to be fixed, when two canoes arrived with a party of Indians, headed by the chief of a tribe in the neighbourhood of Chiloe. With him an agreement was made, that he should have the barge, and all that had been saved from the wreck on the condition of conducting the people up the creeks and across the bays by which he had himself reached the island. They accordingly embarked once more in the barge, being now reduced to thirteen in number, and entered on a voyage to which there are not many parallels in the history of nautical hardships. To such extre- mities were they reduced in attempting to force the barge against a rapid stream, that when one of the stoutest of the sailors fell from the oar, exhausted by labour and the want of food, the captain refused to give him a morsel, though he had a large piece of boiled seal by him, so hardened was he become by the fami- liarity of distress. Mr. Byron was the only one who, having a few dried shell-fish in his pocket, from time to time dropped one into the poor fellow's mouth — an act of kindness which only prolonged his torture, but DELIVERANCE. 31 not his life. Their attempt to get up the river being fruitless, a party went on shore, and penetrated into the morasses in search of some sustenance ; but on their return, six of the remaining crew, with an Indian, advanced hastily and put off, leaving the Captain, Mr. Byron, Mr. Campbell, Mr. Hamilton, and Mr. Elliot, never to return. Their misfortunes now seemed to have attained the utmost point of desperate misery ; but at this moment Providence relieved them, by the arrival of a canoe, the Indians on board of which agreed to take them up the river. After toiling at their oars three days, they came to a carrying place, where it being neces- sary for the party to proceed on foot, each person had some load ; and Mr. Byron had allotted to him a wet heavy piece of stinking seal, wrapped up in can- vas belonging to the captain. Their way was through a thick wood, and a swamp, where every step sunk the person almost to the middle. In this dismal place Mr. Byron was left behind, by falling from a tree into some water, where he narrowly escaped being drowned. With some difficulty he extricated him- self; but, on joining his companions, Captain Cheap 32 HARDSHIPS. reproached him so seriously for losing his piece of seal, that he voluntarily went back five miles to re- cover it. Notwithstanding this heroic act of gene- rosity, the captain and the whole party embarked without taking Mr. Byron with them when he returned ; and, what was still more inhuman in this brutal com- mander, he did not even leave the youth a morsel of the stinking seal for which he had endured such hardship and had nearly paid his life. Night coming on, and being quite worn out with fatigue and hunger, he there lay down, and fell asleep. Before day he awoke, and hearing some voices at a little distance, he went towards the spot whence the sound proceeded, and found a wigwam, or Indian hut, into which he entered, though not till he had received some blows for his intrusion. The Indians, however, were soon recon- ciled to him, and he embarked with them in their canoe ; but when they hauled up to the shore at night, they all disappeared, and left him alone in a dark, dismal desert, amidst a violent storm of rain. The next day the party returned, and took him with them to a place, where finding a quantity of limpets, he filled his hat with them ; but the Indians were so en- raged at his throwing the shells overboard, that he RETURN TO EUROPE. 33 had some difficulty to prevent them from doing the same by himself. In a few days Mr. Byron rejoined his company ; and soon afterwards they landed in the island of Chiloe, at the imminent hazard of their lives. The natives received them very kindly, and the women, in particular, strove who should contribute most to the comfort of the poor shipwrecked mariners, who on their part were so ravenous that they did nothing but eat for the whole day together: and such was the impression of his privations on the mind of Mr. Byron, that for several months he could not avoid pocketing all the victuals that he could lay his hands upon. From Chiloe they were conveyed by a Spanish guard to Castro, and thence to Chaco, where the niece of an old priest fell in love with Mr. Byron ; and the uncle, so far from disapproving of it, offered the favoured youth tar settle all his property upon him, provided he would marry the lady. This proposition, however, tempting as it was under all the circum- stances in which he stood, Mr. Byron had the fortitude to decline. At the beginning of 1 743, they were sent off to Valparaiso, and next to St. Jago, the capital of Chili, where Mr. Byron was hospitably entertained near two years by Dr. Gedd, a Scotch physician. In D 34 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY. the month of December 1744, they were put on board the Lys, a French frigate, which did not reach the harbour of Brest till the 27th of October, 1745. After some time Mr. Byron and his companions obtained a passage in a Dutch vessel, which landed them at Dover ; but so completely were their finances exhausted, that they had not wherewithal to pay the turnpikes as they came to London, where they arrived at the beginning of 1746. Having passed through the several gradations of service, Mr, Byron, in 1758, was appointed commo- dore of a small squadron in the channel ; and soon after he was despatched to North Amerca, as com- mander of the British ships at Louisburg, the fortifi- cations of which place he demolished, pursuant to his orders, and then removed the stores to Halifax. It is well known that the first object of his late Majesty on ascending the throne, was to restore the blessing of peace, that he might be enabled to pro- mote the interests of science. Accordingly, when the war terminated, the king turned his attention to the favourite idea, which had long occupied his thoughts — FALKLAND S ISLANDS. 35 that of ascertaining whether there existed a southern continent. Upon this point, Lord Egmont, then at the head of the Admiralty, was consulted ; and after some deliberation and inquiry it was determined that a voyage of discovery should be undertaken, and that Commodore Byron was the fittest person to conduct the expedition. He sailed from the Downs, on the 21st of June, 1764, with two ships, the Dolphin and the Tamar. In ranging along that coast where he had suffered such dreadful hardships, the commodore observed, near the entrance of the Straits of Magel- lan, a number of people on the shore, who made signs for an interview. With this invitation he complied, and met with a most friendly reception from the In- dians, who were above five hundred in number, and of a gigantic stature. On the 1 4th of January, 1 765, the commodore took possession of the principal of Falkland's Islands, which afterwards had nearly pro- duced a war between this country and Spain. Having accomplished this part of his mission, and explored the coast, the English commander passed through the Magellanic Straits, and entered the Great Pacific Ocean, where he discovered some new islands, to one of which his name was given by the officers ; and in 36 AMERICAN WAR. the month of May, 1766, after having circumnavi- gated the globe, the two ships came to anchor in the Downs. In 1775, this gallant officer was promoted to the rank of admiral; and in the spring of 1778, he was despatched with thirteen ships of the line, in pursuit of the French fleet, which had sailed from Brest to North America, under the command of D'Estaing. In his passage the English admiral encountered such severe weather, that several of his ships suffered much, and the whole were separated. After this D'Estaing got out from Boston, and sailed for the West Indies, whither he was followed by Admiral Byron, but with- out his being able to get up with the enemy, who lay secure for several months in the harbour of Marti- nique. Such was the ill-fortune of this brave com- mander, that the seamen, who with all their courage are remarkably superstitious, regarded him as one born under an evil planet, and gave him the appella- tion of " foul- weather Jack." Yet personally no officer in the service was better beloved by those who served under him ; for he was kind to all, and remark- ably attentive to the comforts of the common mem CAPTAIN JOHN BYRON. 37 of which a striking proof appeared in his voyage round the world, during which by his care he prevented the scurvy from making any ravages in his ships. w At the close of the American war he retired to do- mestic life; in which, however, he was almost as un- fortunate as in his professional career. In 1748, he married the daughter of John Trevannion, Esq. of Carhays, in the County of Cornwall, by whom he had two sons and three daughters ; one of which last mar- ried her cousin William, the eldest son of the fifth Lord Byron, but had no issue by him, and died in 1788 ; two years after her father, the admiral. John Byron the eldest son of the brave veteran, a sketch of whose life we have just given, was born in 1751. He received a liberal education at Westmin- ster School ; after which his father purchased for him a commission in the Guards, where he obtained the rank of captain ; but his life was so irregular, that the admiral, though a very good-natured man, discarded him long before his death. To be seen in the com- pany of Jack Byron was enough to bring the charac- 38 INTRIGUES WITH ter of any man or woman into suspicion, for he was a spendthrift, a gambler, and a debauchee. In 1778, an affair happened which occasioned much noise in the upper circles of life, and brought the sub- ject of this narrative before the public, in a manner that excited more than common indignation. The late Duke of Leeds, then Marquess of Carmarthen, married in 1773, Amelia, the only daughter of the Earl of Holdernesse, and never to appearance was there a happier couple. Two or three years after the marriage, the marquess was taken with a violent fever at Bath, when such was the anxiety of his lady, that she watched by him herself, both day and night, with an assiduity of attention that brought her own life in danger. The Marquess was not insensible to this proof of affection, which he endeavoured to repay, after his recovery, by a correspondent concern for the happiness of one who had shown so much regard for him, in the hour of danger. 4 They lived together after this in the utmost har- mony; and any insinuation reflecting upon the fidelity MARCHIONESS OF CARMARTHEN. 39 of the lady, would have drawn from her lord the keenest expressions of insulted honour. Yet while the Marquess was thus wrapped up in the fullest confidence of his partner's virtue, those around them saw a strange alteration in the deportment of her ladyship. Her intimacy with Jack Byron excited surprise, in all who knew the profligacy of his cha- racter ; and as he took no pains to keep his conquest a secret, the illicit connexion was soon hinted abroad. The Marquess could not avoid hearing of the reports that were in circulation ; but such was his opinion of his wife's affection for him, manifested so strongly in his late illness ; so fully was he persuaded of the innate purity of her mind, fortified by the principles of religion, and the noble example of her parents, that he treated the rumours which were spread about, as the malignant effusions of envy, contrived by wicked minds to destroy his felicity. But this incredulity on the part of the husband, and his unabated kindness amidst the talk which his consort's behaviour had produced, facilitated a complete detection, by throwing the criminal parties off their guard. One day when the Marquess was in the country, her ladyship de- livered a letter to her footman to carry to Captain 40 DISCOVERY. Byron. This epistle she had the imprudence to seal with a wafer, which was still wet ; so that the trusty Hermes had no trouble in reading the contents. Finding that the billet contained an appointment, the man, instead of conveying it to the place of destina- tion, carried it to Lord Holdernesse, whose agitation was so great on this shocking discovery, that he made it known to the Countess. Lady Holdernesse imme- diately repaired to her daughter, whom she taxed with her infidelity, which she as resolutely denied, till the fatal letter was produced, and then she fell into a fit. A scene followed that no language can describe; but upon promises of repentance, the matter was hushed up, the servant who made the discovery was silenced, and the Marquess for that time had no intimation of his dishonour ; yet it was impossible that he could be kept altogether ignorant of a con- duct which was the subject of general remark. Though, therefore, he could not believe what the world roundly asserted, he now deemed it prudent to remain in the country, and to set a watch upon the movements of the Marchioness. Two gentlemen of tried honour and friendship were employed upon this delicate service ; and they were not long engaged on ELOPEMENT. 41 the post of observation, till they brought the guilt of her ladyship to the test of evidence. At this time, Byron was in the country ; and having, as was usual with him, pressing occasion for a sum of money, he wrote to the Marchioness for a supply. She immediately despatched to him a packet, con- taining notes to the amount of one hundred pounds, which fell into the hands of the two spies, who had now an unequivocal demonstration of her ladyship's infidelity, for the letter contained the most ardent ex- pressions of affection, and a pressing entreaty that her paramour would hasten to town, to take advantage of the absence of the Marquess. The Captain did indeed hurry up to London, not, however, in conse- quence of the invitation, but because he had received no answer to his letter — the interception of which was a thunderbolt to both ; for, it afforded a certain proof, that their guilt was now made known to him, whom they had so grossly injured. In this dilemma, they came to the resolution of repairing to the Continent ; and with that view, her Ladyship wrote to the Mar- quess, for leave to draw money from his banker. To this request she received no answer, which only served 42 MARRIAGE. to hasten the determination of elopement ;, and they accordingly set off for Dover in a chaise and four : but just as they were about to enter the packet, the two friends of the Marquess arrived, and brought the Lady back to London, whither she was followed, at a respectful distance, by her disappointed lover. Soon after their arrival in town, her Ladyship again found means to escape ; and as nothing more could be done to hide the shame, legal proceedings were adopted, the consequence of which was, a separation a mensa et thoro ; and next, an act of parliament followed, by which the marriage of the Marquess of Carmarthen and Amelia D'Arcy was dissolved. This was in May, 1779, and soon after, as the only means that could be devised to patch up a broken reputation, the friends on both sides interposed to bring about a marriage between her Ladyship and Captain Byron, which was effected ; but it turned out unhappily, for the season of pleasure was over, and the dregs of illicit love were become gall and wormwood. The mind of the new husband was vitiated, and his manners were brutal ; he had no relish for rational amusement, or for the comforts of domestic life ; and, therefore, it can excite no wonder, that within two years the DEATH. 43 ill-fated Amelia should have died literally of a broken heart, after giving birth to two daughters, one of whom only survived her mother. In 1785, Mr. Byron took for a second wife, Miss Gordon, a Scotch lady of noble descent, being nearly allied to the Ducal House of that name, and herself heiress to an estate at Rayne, in the district of Garioch, near Aberdeen ; which, however, fell a prey to the extra- vagances of her husband, who then cruelly abandoned his wife and child, and, to avoid his creditors, went to Valenciennes, where he died on the second of August, 1791. His widow lived long enough to see her son received into the House of Lords, as the legitimate claimant of the Barony of Byron; but though she had the pleasure also to witness the opening of his splendid talents, she was denied the satisfaction of embracing him in her last moments, dying in Scot- land, while he was on his travels, in 181 1. CHAPTER II Early life of Lord Byron. — Character of Isabella, Countess of Carlisle. — His Lordship's studies at Harrow, and respect for his Tutor. — His opinion of the poetic Classics controverted. — Removal to Cambridge, and reflections upon that University. ON the death of William, the fifth Lord Byron, without male issue, the title and estates, at least those which remained attached to the barony, devolved upon George Gordon, the only son of the last-mentioned John Byron, then a child of ten years old, being born January 22, 1788. The old lord lived many years, after his unfortunate affair with Mr. Chaworth, a life of absolute seclusion in the country, hated by his tenantry, at war with his neighbours, and separated from all his family. He CHILDHOOD. 45 suffered the paternal mansion to fall into a state of ruin; and, as far as lay in his power, he alienated the lands which should have kept it in repair. Eccentri- city, indeed, seems to have distinguished the whole blood ; for his sister Isabella, late Countess of Car- lisle, and mother of the present earl, was a woman of singular genius, and as singular habits. She wrote a charming copy of verses, addressed to Mrs. Greville, on her " Ode to Indifference," which, with other poe- tical effusions of her ladyship's pen, are in Pearch's collection. After shining for a long period in the circle of fashion as one of its most lively and fasci- nating luminaries, she suddenly retired, and in a manner shut herself up from the world ; which made the late Mr. Fox, in one of his sportive productions, characterize her severely enough, as " Carlisle recluse in pride and rags." Of the talents of her son the public has long pos- sessed ample proofs, in a volume of poems, and the nervous tragedy of " The Father's Revenge ;" which last was submitted to the judgment of Dr. Johnson, a little before his death, and received his approbation. 46 INDULGENCE. But to return to the immediate subject of these Memoirs. His infant years, from the age of two to ten, were spent at the birth-place of his mother, and under her personal care ; which was of so lenient and indulgent a cast, that perhaps much of the irregula- rity which has marked his progress through life, may be ascribed to the want of early restraint, and season- able discipline. A mal-formation of one of his feet, and other indications of a rickety constitution, served as a plea for suffering him to range the hills, and to wander about at his pleasure on the sea-shore, that his frame might be invigorated by air and exercise. But if much was gained in bodily strength, it was at the expense of mental cultivation ; and this early custom of roaming at will, became a confirmed habit, and a disposition impatient of controul. When the right to the family honours was de- termined, and the young minor became a ward under the guardianship of his relation, the Earl of Carlisle, an order was made for his removal to an English se- minary, that he might have an education suited to his rank. Harrow was pitched upon, and thither he was sent, towards the close of the year 1798. The re- HARROW SCHOOL. 47 strictions of a well-regulated school were seriously felt by one who had never before experienced the least abridgement of his freedoom, and whose desires had always been gratified to such a degree that to him even the language of authority was hardly known. A mind so ill prepared for the trammels of education, could not easily be brought into a state of conformity with the established regulations of the institution ; and though the usual exercises were correctly performed, it was with reluctance and an avowed hatred both to the task and the authority by which it was enforced. That he did not acquire a classical taste at this cele- brated seat of the Muses, where Jones and Sheridan first tried their powers, is certain, for we have his own testimony to the fact. The fourth canto of " Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" contains a bitter anathema against the use of the Latin poets in schools, followed by a long note upon the same subject. The lines, which possess neither strength nor harmony, are these : " May he who will, his recollections rake And quote in classic raptures, and awake The hills with Latian echoes : I abhorr'd Too much to conquer, for the poet's sake, The drill'd dull lesson, forced down word byword, In my repugnant youth, with pleasure, to record." 48 ON CLASSIC POETRY. As an apology for this admitted defect, and in justification of the contempt put upon classic allusions, the noble author makes these observations : — " I wish to express, that we become tired of the task before we can comprehend the beauty ; that we learn by rote, before we can get by heart ; that the freshness is worn away, and the future pleasure and advantage deadened and destroyed, by the didactic anticipation, at an age when we can neither feel nor understand the power of compositions which it re- quires an acquaintance with life, as well as Latin and Greek, to relish, or to reason upon. For the same reason, we never can be aware of the fulness of some of the finest passages of Shakspeare, (' To be, or not to be/ for instance,) from the habit of having them hammered into us at eight years old, as an exercise, not of mind, but of memory ; so that when we are old enough to enjoy them, the taste is gone, and the appetite palled. In some parts of the Continent young persons are taught from more common authors, and do not read the best classics till their maturity. I certainly do not speak on this point from any pique or aversion towards the place of my education. I ON CLASSIC POETRY. 49 was not a slow, though an idle boy; and I believe no one could be more attached to Harrow than I have always been, and with reason : — a part of the time passed there was the happiest of my life ; and my preceptor (the Reverend Dr. Joseph Drury) was the best and worthiest friend I ever possessed, whose warnings I have remembered but too well, though too late, when I have erred ; and whose counsels I have but followed when I have done well and wisely. If ever this imperfect record of my feelings towards him should reach his eyes, let it remind him of one who never thinks of him but with gratitude and veneration, — of one who would more gladly boast of having been his pupil, if by more closely following his injunctions he could reflect any honour upon his instructor." Pleasing as this tribute of gratitude is, it would have been more so had the noble author forborne to satirize in the coarsest strain of rude invective, by the appellation of Pomposus, the head master of the same seminary, for no other cause in the world than that of having enforced, without any relaxation in favour of individuals, the statutes of the house over which he presided. 50 PUBLIC EDUCATION. But it is the sweeping censure passed upon the system of instruction adopted in all our grammar- schools that calls for particular notice and animad- version. If the attainment of Latin and Greek is at all necessary, it is obvious that those languages cannot be acquired in perfection, but through the medium of the finest writers, as well in verse as in prose. What the late Dean Vincent has observed on this subject in his admirable " Defence of Public Education," is so decisive of the question that it is only to be regretted that the author of Childe Harold should have been ignorant of a tract, the perusal of which would have saved him from falling under the keen remark, that " he who writes with the Goths, cannot thoroughly feel with the Classics." Having remarked that Milton, Cowley, and Addison had distinguished themselves by their paradoxical opinions in regard to education, Dr. Vincent take3 their reflections in order. — "Milton," says he, "complained of the years that were wasted in teaching the dead languages, and PUBLIC EDUCATION. 51 proposed a more compendious method of his own ; but Johnson, who had taught these languages himself, observes that no man can teach faster than a boy can learn. We know nothing of Milton's success; for not a name of all his pupils is upon record : but we know what the brightest luminaries of the age issued from the school of Busby ; and we know that to form the habits of literature, time is required as well as teaching. " Cowley complained that classical education taught words only, and not things ; but it ought to be considered that all the instruction of childhood de- pends more on memory than intellect. When the age of comprehension comes, from twelve or fourteen to six- teen or eighteen, if the master teaches only words, he is a blockhead. It is the composition of the poet he is to notice, and not the rendering a word of the original by its correspondent term in English; the order, connexion, and relation of part to part, the allusions to history, mythology, and geography ; and if these are not things rather than words, where are we to search for them ? 52 INVOCATION TO HARROW. "Addison deemed it an inexpiable error, that boys, with genius or without , were all to be bred poet indiscriminately; and if this were our object in teaching prosody, his reproof would be just ; but no ear can be formed to harmony, no poet can be read with pleasure, no intimate acquaintance with any dead language can be obtained, without a knowledge of prosody." While Lord Byron was at school, one of the living ornaments of that seminary printed, though he did not publish, " An Invocation to the Harrow Muses, to defend the use of the Heathen Mythology, in Poetry." Whether the author of Childe Harold had this poem in his eye when he spoke so contemptuously of " Latian echoes," is a question which cannot be dis- cussed in this place ; but the reader of sensibility, it is apprehended, will not be displeased with some lines from a performance conceived in the genuine strain of classic taste and genuine poesy : " I will not from remembrance blot the lays Which Harrow echo'd in my younger days — INVOCATION TO HARROW, 53 Those days, in which your votaries loved to rove Through the dark windings of the sacred grove ;* Or where the steeple rises to the view, Or where, in earlier times, the arrow flew :f Then oft, upon some bank, from sorrow free, Or at the roots we sat of some old tree, There hail'd the flocks and herds that wander'd nigh, Or hymn'd the smiling hours that fleeted by : As yet our youthful passions were not strong, And few the opportunities of wrong ; But rash adventures (when th' appointed bound Our feet o'erleapt, and trod forbidden ground), Or themes in haste perform'd (a heinous crime), Or verse unfinish'd at the stated time, Soon follow'd punishment ; nor, that once o'er, The fault, which caused it, was remember'd more. Past scenes ! which, while in manhood we pursue Life's toilsome march, with fondness we review": Now constant care fills up the present hour, With schemes for future wealth, or distant pow'r ; Now, if we pass in idleness the day, Or from our road, allured by pleasure, stray, Stern Conscience frowns, an unrelenting foe, Holds her dread scourge on high, but still delays the blow." * The Grove was the name of a garden at Harrow, in which the upper hoys were allowed by the owner to walk. t A place on Harrow Hill, called the Butts, where the ceremony of shooting for the arrow was performed, before that custom was abolished, and the speeches instituted in its stead. 54 DEFENCE OF THE CLASSICS. Though the author of Childe Harold could pro- nounce an anathema against Horace, and the use made of the poets in education, his earliest and best productions are indebted for their harmony and ex- pression to that knowledge of the classics in his youth, which he so strangely condemns in his latter work. One of his warm, but not blind, admirers, has noticed this in the piece intituled " Childe Harold's Monitor," where the noble poet's treatment of Horace is censured with just severity. " No lover of the classics," says that powerful writer, " can speak with more lip-honour of Horace, than Harold has done in that objectionable passage of his fourth Canto, to which he has solicited the attention of his reader by an ingenious but most inju- dicious note. But, if he really did, as he imagines, understand the Lyric Bard of the Latins, it would be impossible for him, with all his feeling, not to enter into the spirit of that divine poet. This doc- trine of antipathies, contracted by the impatience of youth against the noblest authors of antiquity, from the circumstance of their having been made the vehi- cles of early instruction, is a most dangerous doctrine indeed; since it strikes at the root not only of all DEFENCE OF THE CLASSICS. 55 pure taste, but of all praiseworthy industry. It would, if acted upon, (as Harold, by his mention of the Con- tinental practice of using inferior writers in the busi- ness of tuition, would seem to recommend,) destroy the great source of intellectual vigour of our country- men. The labour of acquiring the learned languages, salutary as that labour is to the whole understanding, is acknowledged to be considerable : and if it is not to be cheered by the delightful inspirations of ancient genius ; if the digger in the mine of philology is not to be enlivened by the accompanying song of classical poets ; there is no other digger, or hedger, or ditcher, who is denied so natural and necessary a recreation — Solatur carmine fossor opus " Many a would-be genius will hereafter eagerly shelter himself under the authority of Harold, and pronounce it a proof of original fancy, and strong ungovernable powers of mind, to be unable to submit to the drudgery of penetrating into the sense of Horace ; and the simple and appropriate panegyric of Pope will lose all its veracity, as far as the reader is concerned — " Horace still charms with graceful negligence," &c. 56 RECOLLECTIONS. " It is probable, that among the occasions which Harold commemorates so gratefully and so honour- ably, both to himself and to his preceptor Dr. Drury,-— occasions on which that preceptor gave his pupil good advice, — that there was no failure of encomium upon Horace, nor any want of encouragement to study his useful and animating pages. ' Tile se profecisse sciet, cui Horatius valde placebit,' may be said perhaps as truly of this as of any author of antiquity. When will men of real genius feel their responsibility, and weigh what they are doing, when about to set a licentious example? 'Exemplar vitiis imitabile,' should be their constant motto and monitor." Previous to leaving Harrow, it will be no more than justice to the youthful genius and feelings of its noble Poet, to quote a few lines from one of his ear- liest pieces, entitled, " Childish Recollections," but which most readers of sensibility will regard with concern, as the promising shoots of a fancy that has since suffered much by luxuriance. " Yet why should I alone with such delight Retrace the circuit of my former flight? Is there no cause beyond the common claim, Endear'd to all, in childhood's very name ? REMOVAL TO CAMBRIDGE. 57 Ah ! sure some stronger impulse vibrates here, Which, whispers Friendship, will be doubly dear To one who thus with kindred hearts must roam, And seek abroad the love denied at home : Those hearts, dear Ida,* have I found in thee — A home, a world, a Paradise to me. Stern Death forbade my orphan youth to share The tender guidance of a father's care ; Can rank, or e'en a guardian's name, supply The love which glistens in a father's eye ? For this can wealth or title's sound alone, Made, by a parent's early loss, my own ? What brother springs a brother's love to seek ? What sister's gentle kiss has press'd my cheek ? For me how dull the vacant moments rise, To no fond bosom link'd by kindred ties." At the age of little more than sixteen, the author of these verses removed to the University of Cambridge, where he became a student of Trinity College. Of the pursuits which occupied his time during the short period of his continuance in this venerable seat of learning not much can be said ; since it appears that he despised academical honours, and treated with contempt the peculiar studies by which alone s * Harrow. e 58 SATIRE ON THE UNIVERSITY. they could be procured. The same indolence that characterized him at school, distinguished him in col- lege ; but though he paid little attention to the clas- sics, and had an abhorrence for mathematics, he read e English poets with avidity, and exercised his genius in writing verses, chiefly of an amatory description. His turn for satire also at this period appears in the sketches which he has drawn of a collegiate life, and of the labours of the candidate for public prizes. But however excusable these light productions may be, no palliative can be found for the author, who after leaving the university could vent his spleen against her in these venemous lines : "Oh ! dark asylum of a Vandal race, At once the boast of learning, and disgrace.' As an illustration of this foul aspersion, a passage from Gibbon is quoted where the historian says, that " into Cambridgeshire the emperor Probus trans- ported a considerable body of Vandals :" — after giving which notable extract the satirist observes, that " there is no reason to doubt the truth of this "assertion ; for the breed is still in high perfection.'^ SATIRE ON THE UNIVERSITY. 59 There are four other lines in the same poem, which betray a malignity of mind, that is difficult to account for, but on the ground of its having been excited by resentment of coercion inflicted or distinctions with- held: " Ye, who in Granta's honours would surpass, Must mount her Pegasus, a full-grown ass ; A foal well worthy of her ancient dam, Whose Helicon is duller than her Cam." Instances of similar calumny upon a University, by one of its members, are of rare occurrence ; for in general men, however irregular their conduct may have been, feel interested in the glory of the seminary where they were bred. Milton, it is true, who had been subjected to the severity of academic discipline, complained in some Latin verses, that the banks of the Cam were unpro- pitious to Phoebus ; but this querulousness arose from a hatred of the government, and not a dislike to the studies, of the University. Gibbon, in the Memoirs of his own life, has done 60> ANECDOTE OF GIBBON. Oxford the honour of abusing her entire constitu- tion, as monastic ; but the diatribe of the luminous historian is rendered nugatory by his own confession that he was an unfledged school-boy when he became a gentleman-commoner of Magdalen Col- lege ; that he [mew little Latin, and no Greek ; and that of his whole academic life, which consisted only of fourteen months, one half was wasted in truant excursions. With respect to Lord Byron, we have his own ad- mission, that neither his habits nor connexions were such as to ensure him the esteem of those of his con- temporaries who, valuing most highly their relation to the University, could not but feel hurt at every in dignity put upon its institutes. In the same poem which has called forth these remarks, his Lordship, to make his sting more severe—-* against the reputation of Carnbridge, throws out53u^ far-fetched compliment upon Oxford, in these lines ^Sk^v " But where fair Isis rolls her purer wave, The partial Muse delighted loves to lave ; On her green banks a greener wreath is wove, To crown the Bar4s that haunt her classic grove." ENCOMIUM ON OXFORD. 6l Reflecting, however, upon the purpose for which this comparison was made, and sensible that the character of one learned establishment is not to be supported by an invidious contrast with another, the friends of Oxford could hardly be gratified by praises which so forcibly reminded them of Gibbon's illiberal sarcasms, and the truth of the maxim that, Non talis auxilio, nee defensoribus istis. CHAPTER III. Publication of the "Hours of Idleness ;" — Critique of the Edinburgh Reviewers thereon ; and the noble Author's severe retort. AT the age of nineteen, Lord Byron left the Uni- versity for Newstead Abbey, the seat of his ancestors, where, at the importunity of friends, he made a small collection of those poems which having been circulated privately had excited considerable interest. The volume accordingly appeared the same year, from the neigh- bouring printing-press of Newark ; to which however the execution did little honour in point of correctness or elegance. The title " Hours of Idleness," given to the book, cannot be considered otherwise than as an affectation unworthy of the author; inasmuch as it im- plies a contempt of poesy, while at the same time the HOURS OF IDLENESS. 63 very publication manifested the importance attached to the art in his estimation, and the laudable ambi-y tion of excellency in it, by which he was actuated. That a noble youth in his minority could conceive himself to be " idly employed," when cultivating an intimacy with the Muses, is too ridiculous to be be- lieved ; and the keen resentment which he afterwards felt against the critics who endeavoured to blight these early blossoms of his genius, afforded a decisive proof that he was not sincere in his humility. Neither indeed would it have been much to his honour if the title which he adopted had corresponded with his real sentiments ; since writing verses is at all events as good an application of time, to say nothing of the exercise of the mind, as chasing a fox, driving a coach, or rattling the dice. Whether a young man of family and rank may be better employed than in poetic com- position is not the question ; but certain it is that the hours so devoted, cannot in any sense be called those of idleness. This designation of the juvenile per- formances of Lord Byron, bears some resemblance to the behaviour of Congreve, who told Voltaire that he wished to be visited as a gentleman, and not as a poet. " Had I considered you only as a gentleman," ob- 64 SATIRE ON LORD CARLISLE, served the French wit, " I certainly should never have visited you at all." The volume bearing this unlucky title was inscribed very properly, and very respectfully, to the author's noble relative and guardian the Earl of Carlisle, himself a poet and a man of learning. But though the dedication is highly complimentary to his lord- ship's virtues and genius, on some account or other, for which it would be difficult to assign a satisfactory reason, the young poet in his next and most vigorous performance, thought proper to abuse the noble earl, in the bitterest gall and wormwood of satire ; as one " Whose hairs grow hoary as his rhymes grow worse." In justification of this marvellous inconsistency the author offers the following plea : " It may be asked why I have censured the Earl of Carlisle, my guardian and relative, to whom I dedi- cated a volume of puerile poems some years ago. The guardianship was nominal, at least as far as I have been able to discover ; the relationship I cannot help, and am very sorry for it; but, as his lordship RECANTATION. 65 seemed to forget it on a very essential occasion to me, I shall not burden my memory with the recol- lection. I do not think that personal differences sanc- tion the unjust condemnation of a brother scribbler ; but I see no reason why they should act as a pre- ventive, when the author, noble or ignoble, has for a series of years beguiled a "discerning public" (as the ad- vertisements have it) with divers reams of most ortho- dox, imperial nonsense. Besides, I do not step aside to vituperate the Earl ; no— his works come fairly in review with those of other Patrician Literati. If, before I escaped from my teens, I said any thing in favour of his lordship's paper books, it was in the way of dutiful dedication, and more from the advice of others than my own judgment ; and I seize the first opportunity of pronouncing my sincere recantation. I have heard that some persons conceive me to be under personal obligations to Lord Carlisle ; if so, I shall be most particularly happy to learn what they are, and when conferred, that they may be duly appreciated and publicly acknowledged. What I have humbly advanced as an opinion on his printed things, I am prepared to support, if necessary, by quotations from elegies, eulogies, odes, episodes, and F 66 INCONSISTENCY. certain facetious and dainty tragedies bearing his name and mark : " What can ennoble knaves, or fools, or cowards, Alas ! not all the blood of all the Howards !" " So says Pope. Amen!" No provocation in the world could warrant an outrageous attack of this virulent cast ; and though the satirist says, that the works of the noble Earl came before him as fair game for critical review, it is very evident that he only seized upon them for the purpose of gratifying his revenge on account of some private differences. But the inconsistency of this extraordinary genius did not end here; for in his survey of the field of Waterloo, contained in the third Canto of Childe Harold, he takes occasion to notice the death of his cousin, Major Howard, to whose memory he pays a feeling tribute of respect, and then acknowledges, that formerly he had " done his noble father wrong." This perhaps may be considered as a proof of ingenuousness— be it so: but when this is allowed to VACILALTIOX. 67 pass for all that it is worth, what must be thought of the texture of that mind which could send into the world a piece tending to wound with an envenomed point the feelings of an aged and exalted friend ? This alternation of sentiment, this change of con- duct, from fulsome praise to the grossest calumny, and from the severest injury to the most servile retrac- tation, indicates a disposition governed by passion and not by principle. An apology for such vacillation cannot be found in any of the ordinary rules by which the intercourse of social life is preserved from the fury of anarchy and the treachery of savage warfare. But to revert to the volume, the dedication of which has unavoidably occasioned these observations ; though the noble author at a subsequent period affected to treat the first fruits of his genius with s contempt, these " puerile poems," as he called them, evinced vigorous conception, and correct taste, with a great command of language, and a knowledge of the laws of metrical harmony. 6S CRITICAL SEVERITY. Happier specimens of precocious talent will not indeed be easily found in the history of poetry ; and yet one of the first literary journals of the day fell with unaccountable ferocity upon the infant muse, which it attempted to strangle in the cradle. A similar act of barbarity was practised, with more success, against that amiable son of genius and virtue, Henry Kirke White, whose mind certainly suffered seriously from the lacerations inflicted upon it by the fangs of critical malevolence. In the present instance, the malignity of the criticism roused energies far superior to the power which provoked them into retaliation ; and the Edinburgh Reviewer, while triumphing in the wanton insolence of assumed au- thority over a stripling, found himself locked in an Herculean grasp, from whence there was no escape without indelible disgrace. As an article of curiosity, and showing what little respect is generally due to periodical criticism, where conceited ignorance, clad in a coat of darkness, may with deadly effect aim the poisoned arrow of defama- tion at solid learning and brilliant genius ; the Edin- burgh review of Lord Byron's u Hours of Idleness" EDINBURGH REVIEW. 69 is here inserted. It forms indeed an essential part of the literary history of this noble writer ; for though talents like his could hardly lie dormant, it may be reasonably doubted whether he would have put them forth so effectively and speedily as he did, had not the northern Zoilus held him up to unmerited ridicule, in the twenty-second volume of the Review for the year 1 808. Nothing can be well conceived more ludicrously pompous than the opening of the criticism which is couched in the technical jargon of legal sophistry ; but, to make amends for this solemn foolery, the reviewer takes care to close his judicial sentence in the language of a buffoon. " The poesy of this young Lord," says he, " belongs to the class which neither Gods nor man are said to permit. Indeed, we do not recollect to have seen a quantity of verse with so few deviations in either direction from that exact standard. His effusions are spread over a dead flat, and can no more get above or below the level, than if they were so much stagnant water. As an extenuation of this offence, 70 EDINBURGH REVIEW'. the noble author is peculiarly forward in pleading minority. We have it in the title-page, and on the very back of the volume ; it follows his name, like a favourite part of his style. Much stress is laid upon it in the preface ; and the poems are connected with this general statement of his case, by particular dates, substantiating the age at which each was written. Now, the law upon the point of minority, we hold to be perfectly clear. It is a plea available only to the defendant; no plaintiff can offer it as a supple- mentary ground of action. Thus, if any suit could be brought against Lord Byron, for the purpose of compelling him to put into court a certain quantity of poetry, and if judgment were given against him, it is highly probable that an exception would be taken, were he to deliver for poetry the contents of this volume. To this he might plead minority ; but as he now makes voluntary tender of the article, he hath no right to sue, on that ground, for the price in good current praise, should the goods be unmarketable. This is our view of the law on the point, and we dare to say, so will it be ruled. Perhaps, however, in reality, all that he tells us about his youth, is rather with a view to increase our wonder, than to soften our censures. EDINBURGH HE V JEW. 71 He possibly means to say, * See how a minor can write ! This poem was actually composed by a young man of eighteen, and this by one of only sixteen 1' — But, alas, we all remember the poetry of Cowley at ten, and Pope at twelve ; and so far from hearing with any degree of surprise, that very poor verses were written by a youth from his leaving school to his leaving college inclusive, we really believe this to be the most common of all occurrences ; that it happens in the life of nine men in ten who are educated in England ; and that the tenth man writes better verse than Lord Byron. " His other plea of privilege, our author rather brings forward in order to wave it. He certainly, however, does allude frequently to his family and ancestors ; sometimes in poetry, sometimes in notes : and while giving up his claim on the score of rank, he takes care to remember us of Dr. Johnson's saying, that when a nobleman appears as an author, his merit should be handsomely acknowledged. In truth, it is this consideration only, that induces us to give Lord Byron's poems a place in our review, beside our desire to counsel him, that he do forthwith 72 EDINBURGH It E VIEW. abandon poetry, and turn his talents, which are con- siderable, and his opportunities, which are great, to better account. " With this view, we must beg leave seriously to assure him, that the mere rhyming of the final syllable, even when accompanied by the presence of a certain number of feet, nay, although (which does not always happen) these feet should scan regularly, and have been all counted accurately upon the fingers, is not the whole art of poetry. We would entreat him to believe, that a certain portion of liveliness, somewhat of fancy, is necessary to constitute a poem ; and that a poem in the present day, to be read, must contain at least one thought either in a little degree different from the ideas of former writers, or differently expressed. We put it to his candour, whether there is any thing so deserving the name of poetry in verses like the following, written in 1806, and whether, if a youth of eighteen could say any thing so uninteresting to his ancestors, a youth of nineteen should publish it. " Shades of heroes, farewell ! your descendant, departing From the seat of his ancestors, bids you adieu ! Abroad, or at home, your remembrance imparting New courage, he '11 think upon glory and you. EDINBURGH REVIEW. 73 Though a tear dim his eye, at this sad separation, Tis nature, not fear, that excites his regret; Far distant he goes, with the same emulation, The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget. That fame, and that memory, still will he cherish ; He vows that he ne'er will disgrace your renown ; Like you will he live, or like you will he perish — When decay'd, may he mingle his dust with your own." " Now we positively do assert, that there is nothing better than these stanzas in the whole compass of the noble minor's volume. " Lord Byron should also have a care of attempting what the greatest poets have done before him, for comparisons (as he must have had occasion to see at his writing-master's) are odious. — Gray's Ode to Eton College, should really have kept out the ten hobbling stanzas on a distant view of the village and school at Harrow. " Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance^ Of comrades in friendship or mischief allied ; How welcome to me, your ne'er fading remembrance, Which rests in the bosom, though hope is denied." 74 EDINBURGH REVIEW. " In like manner the exquisite lines of Mr. Rogers, 1 On a Tear' might have warned the noble author off those premises, and spared us a whole dozen such stanzas as the following : " Mild charity's glow, To us mortals below, Shows the soul from barbarity clear ; Compassion will melt, Where the virtue is felt, And its dew is diffus'd in a tear. The man doom'd to sail, "With the blast of the gale, Through billows Atlantic to steer, As he bends o'er the wave, Which may soon be his grave, The green sparkles bright with a tear." u And so of instances in which former poets had failed. Thus, we do not think Lord Byron was made for translating, during his non-age, Adrian's Address to his Soul, when Pope succeeded indifferently in the attempt. If our readers, however, are of another opinion, they may look at it : EDINBURGH REVIEW. 75 " Ah ! gentle, fleeting, wav'ring sprite, Friend and associate of this clay ; To what unknown region borne, Wilt thou now wing thy distant flight? No more with wonted humour gay, But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn." " However, be this as it may, we fear his trans- lations and imitations are great favourites with Lord Byron. We have them of all kinds, from Anacreon to Ossian ; and viewing them as school exercises, they may pass. Only, why print them after they have had their day and served their turn ? And why call the thing in p. 79, a translation, where two words (0s\o teysiv) of the original are expanded into four lines, and the other thing, in p. 81, where /asctovvktiois wo9' b?au{ is ren- dered by means of six hobbling verses ? — As to his Ossianic poesy, we are not very good jugdes; being, in truth, so moderately skilled in that species of composi- tion, that we should, in all probability, be criticizing some bit of the genuine Macpherson itself, were we to express our opinion of Lord Byron's rhapsodies. If, then, the following beginning of a ' Song of Bards,' is by his Lordship, we venture to object to it, as far as 76 EDINBURGH REVIEW. we can comprehend it. ' What form rises on the roar of clouds, whose dark ghost gleams on the red stream of tempests ? His voice rolls on the thunder : 'tis Oila the brown Chief of Otihona. He was,' &c. After detaining this \ brown Chief some time, the bards conclude by giving him their advice to ' raise his fair locks ;' then to ' spread them on the arch of the rainbow ;' and to * smile through the tears of the storm/ Of this kind of thing there are no less than nine pages ; and we can so far venture an opinion in their favour, that they look very like Macpherson ; and we are positive they are pretty nearly as stupid and tiresome. " It is a sort of privilege of poets to be egotists ; but they should ' use it as not abusing it ;' and par- ticularly one who piques himself (though indeed at the ripe age of nineteen) of being ' an infant bard' — (' The artless Helicon I boast is youth) — should either not know, or should seem not to know, so much about his own ancestry. Besides a poem, above cited ; on the family seat of the Byrons, we have another of eleven pages on the self-same subject, intro- duced with an apology, * he certainly had no intert- EDINBURGH REVIEW. 77 tion of inserting it ;' but really, \ the particular request of some friends/ &c. &c. It concludes with five stanzas on himself, ' the last and youngest of the noble line.' There is a good deal also about his maternal ancestors, in a poem on Lachion-y-Gair, a mountain where he spent a part of his youth, and might have learnt, that pibroch is not a bagpipe, any more than duet means a fiddle. 16 As the author has dedicated so large a part of his volume to immortalize his employments at school and college, we cannot possibly dismiss it without pre- senting the reader with a specimen of these ingenious effusions. In an ode with a Greek motto, called Granta, we have the following magnificent stanzas : " There in apartments small and damp, The candidate for college prizes, Sits poring by the midnight lamp, Goes late to bed, yet early rises : Who reads false quantities in Scale,* Or puzzles o'er the deep triangle ; Depriv'd of many a wholesome meal, In barbarous Latin doom'd to wrangle. * This alludes to the " Analysis of Greek Metres/' by J. B. Seate, D. D. of Christ's College ; a standard work on the construction of the 78 EDINBURGH REVIEW, Renouncing every pleasing- page From authors of historic use ; Preferring to the letter'd sage, The square of the hypothenuse. Still harmless are these occupations, That hurt none but the hapless student, Compar'd with other recreations Which bring together the imprudent." " We are sorry to hear so bad an account of the College Psalmody, as is contained in the following Attic stanzas : " Our choir would scarcely be excused, Even as a band of raw beginners ; All mercy now must be refused To such a set of croaking sinners. " If David, when his toils were ended, Had heard these blockheads sing before him, To us his psalms had ne'er descended, In furious mood he would have tore 'em." Greek poetry, and which Lord Byron ought to have studied, and made himself master of before he tried his wit upon it. EDINBURGH REVIEW. 79 " But, whatever judgment may be passed on the poems of this noble minor, it seems we must take ,them as we find them, and be content; for they are the last we shall ever have from him. He is at best, he says, but an intruder into the groves of Parnassus ; he never lived in a garret, like thorough -bred poets; and ' though he once roved a careless mountaineer in the Highlands of Scotland," he has not of late enjoyed this advantage. Moreover, he expects no profit from his publication ; and whether it succeeds or not, ' it is highly improbable, from his situation and pursuits hereafter,' that he should again condescend to become an author. Therefore, let us take what we get, and be thankful. What right have we poor devils to be nice ? We are well off to have got so much from a man of this Lord's station, who does not live in a garret, but ' has the sway' of Newstead Abbey. Again, we say, let us be thankful ; and, with honest Sancho, bid God bless the giver, nor look the gift horse in the mouth." 80 RETORT ON THE CRITICS. ■ Such was the merciless judgment fulminated with more than inquisitorial vengeance, against a volume of poems which, if the reviewer really believed what he predicted, stood no chance of being known ; and therefore, all the pains of the learned Theban were spent in the idle labour of breaking a fly upon his critical wheel. It is very evident, however, that this Aristarchus of the New School of Criticism had a much higher opinion of the genius displayed in the tc Hours of Idleness," than he feigned to have, and that his contemptuous denunciation of all the poems, without exception, arose from personal enmity to the author. Be this as it may the sweeping censure de- livered from the chair of literary despotism, with in- sufferable dogmatism, recoiled upon the critic with tenfold vengeance ; and it was not long before he had the mortification of proclaiming his own disgrace, so far at least as to be obliged to echo the voice of the public, in acknowledging the poetical merits of the very person whom he had doomed to oblivion. Roused by this unprovoked attack upon his book, and stung by the sarcasms thrown out against his talents, the noble author turned upon his assailant, RETORT ON THE CRITICS. 81 the conductor of the Journal, in a poem which, for spirited description, and strength of colouring, may vie with the most pointed of Dryden's satires. It is, however, to be regretted, that with so much real cause for applying the lash, where no one could say it was undeserved, the noble lord should in the effervescence of his rage, run a-muck, like the intoxicated Indian, against persons from whom he had received no offence. Had he contented him- self in his vigorous imitation of the first satire of Juvenal, with exposing the malevolence of the " Scotch Reviewers," he would have acted wisely ; nor, indeed, could any thing be said against the adminis- tration of a little wholesome correction to those " English Bards," who had contributed in various ways to the corruption of the public taste. The Edinburgh Reviewers, chief and subalterns, were proper game, for they were become ferae naturae, and of course had put themselves out of the privilege of legal protection as writers. They had in fact, made war upon the literary world, and consequently were brigands and pirates, who by their outrages, justified 82 SUPPRESSION OF THE REPLV. every honest trader, in hanging them up to public odium, as robbers and outlaws. Lord Byron merited therefore, the thanks of the commonwealth of letters, for laying open the practices and holding up the names of the persons of these marauders ; who were known to hold their meetings for the selection of vic- tims under the roof of a British Peer. The able and unreserved manner in which the exposure was made, did infinite credit to the spirit and genius of the noble author ; but then, on the other hand, he tarnished the fame acquired by this gallant act of chivalry, when, instead of directing his prowess solely against his recreant adversaries, he rambled aside to disturb the peaceful travellers on the king's high-way. By doing this, he unfortunately made himself enemies, and weakened the good effect that would otherwise have resulted from his poignant satire. But this was not all ; for after sharpening the edge of his weapon in a third edition, he as suddenly re- called the next impression, and thus a poem, calculated to produce a salutary revolution in literary criticism, could not be procured. To what cause this capri- cious resolution is to be ascribed, must be left to con- SUPPRESSION OF THE REPLY. 83 jecture; but, whatever, it might be, the reputation of the. noble author, was far from being advanced by the suppression. It would, in fact, have been better if he had pocketed the affront put upon him by the nor- thern critics in the first instance, than, after publishing his satire, entitled " English Bards, and Scotch Re- viewers,'' to recall the piece ; thus, in effect, retracting both what he had advanced, and succumbing to the very opponents over whom he had gained a triumph. The noble lord should have erased what he had written and printed of an offensive nature against public institutions, and private individuals, from whom he had received no injury ; and in doing this the power of his satire upon the proper objects of it would have been increased. In a subsequent publication, his lordship took occasion to correct an historical error into which the Scotch critic had fallen ; and having done this, he thought proper to add the following note : " I have endeavoured to wave the personal feelings which rise in despite of me, in touching upon any part of the Edinburgh Review ; not from a wish to conciliate the favour of its writers, or to cancel the remembrance 84 REMARKS. of a syllable, I have formerly published, from a sense of the impropriety of mixing up private re- sentments, with a disquisition of the present kind, and more particularlarly at this distance of time and but simply place/' Now this note is at variance with his conduct in suppressing the satire, for by that very act, he did endeavour to " cancel the remembrance of what he had formerly published ;*' and so far it seems evident, that his object must have been to " conciliate the favour of the Reviewers." But this was not the only inconsistency of which the noble lord was guilty, in his just quarrel with the Edinburgh Critics; for he followed up his satire by another poem, bearing the title of " Hints to Horace," which, after printing one or two copies he destroyed, because he now felt, or was persuaded that it would be for his interest as an author, to lay down his lance, and make friends of those, against whom he had declared eternal war, " as a Hydra, to crush one head of which he had deemed it so much an act of duty, that he was contented to lose a hand in the encounter." CHAPTER V. Anecdote of the Duke of Wharton. — Similar one of Lord Byron. — Monument Jo his dog. — Inscrip- tion on a skull made into a cup. — Amourous con- nexions. — Anecdote of false sensibility. — Lord Byron made the subject of a novel. IT is related of Philip, the profligate Duke of Wharton, that in his travels he purchased a bear's cub of which he became so extremely fond as to make it his constant attendant both night and day, to the great annoyance of his tutor. On reaching Geneva, this extraordinary man, suddenly departed for Lyons, leaving young Bruin behind him with the following letter to the poor governor ; " Being no longer able to bear with your ill-usage, I have thought proper to be gone from you ; however, that you may not want 86 duke of wharton's company, I have left you the bear, as the most suitable companion in the world that could be picked up for you." Whether Lord Byron had read the history of this eccentric nobleman, who was a wit and a poet, the writer of the present sketch has not the means of determining; but it is somewhat remarkable, that while a student at Cambridge, he should have indulged himself in a similar humour, by making a young bear the associate of his studies ; and what is no less sin- gular, on quitting the university, his lordship left the animal in possession of his chambers, to stand, as he expressed it, candidate for the next vacant fellowship. Whimsical as this coincidence is, it appears to be more than accidental, especially as in both instances the choice of the favourites resulted rather from a wish to give offence to others than Jto gratify any particular attachment. It would betray a narrow spirit to scru- tinize with severity the propensities and amusements of youth ; but when those inclinations and sports have a peculiarity in them different from juvenile pursuits in general, they are no longer matters of trifling interest, but become circumstances of import in the EXTRAVAGANCE. 87 illustration of character. He who, under the regimen of academic discipline, manifests an impatience of restraint, and a contempt of the laws of decorum, gives plain indications of what may be expected from him when he shall have attained the entire command of his own actions. The eventful and melancholy story of the Duke of Wharton may be mentioned in confirmation of the truth of this observation. Possessed of talents which only required a proper direction to have proved bene- ficial to the world, this extraordinary man, by becoming his own master, while yet a minor, had such oppor- tunities of following the impulse of his passions, that his mind, for want of government, at length took delight in nothing but extravagance. Though he married for love, he soon abandoned his wife, and went abroad, where he not only dissipated his patri- mony, upon low connexions, but changed his religion, if indeed he ever had any, and at the age of thirty-two closed his mortal, but short career, in a Spanish con- vent, whither he had been removed out of charity. Such was the end of a noble genius who might have 88 ANECDOTE OF A DOG. shone one of the brightest ornaments of the British peerage, if he had been guided by principle and had laid the reins upon his imagination. But to return to the immediate object of these memoirs. On leaving college, and getting rid of his shaggy chum, the noble lord adopted another favourite of the four-footed kind but of a different species. This was a large Newfoundland dog, in the instruc- tion of which he took as much delight, as Sir Ashton Lever formerly did in the education of horses. Among the early amusements of his lordship, were swimming and managing a boat, in both of which exercises he acquired great dexterity, even in his childhood. In his aquatic exercises near Newstead Abbey, he had seldom any other companion than his dog to try whose sagacity and fidelity he would some- times fall out of the boat, as if by accident, upon which the animal never failed to jump overboard and seizing his master, would drag him instantly to the shore. There was, however, a very prudential reason for this artifice, since the dog being practised in the performance of a necessary piece of service ; might on some occasion or other prove of great benefit in saving human life. EPITAPH. 89 On losing this faithful creature in the autumn of 1808, his lordship caused a monument to be erected commemorative of its attachment: and bearing an inscription which is so little to the credit of the author, that four lines only, and those not the worst in the piece, must here suffice as a precious evidence of early misanthropy : " Ye, who perchance behold this simple urn, Pass on — it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise, I never knew but one and here he lies." Now this panegyric upon a dog, the whole of whose virtue lay in mechanical instinct, when the writer had a parent living, with many other relatives and ac- quaintance, the sincerity of whose friendship he had no right to call in question, can be considered as nothing better than an intended violation of good manners, and a direct insult upon moral feeling. That this young nobleman acted well in placing a grateful token of remembrance over the remains of an affectionate animal, cannot be denied ; but in doing this, he should have been careful to keep his praises within the bounds of decent propriety, and not have 90 SINGULAR CUP. made the good qualities of a dog, whatever they might be, the vehicle for pouring out the most cynical lan- guage of abuse upon the whole body of mankind. It was remarked of Sterne, who had much philan- thropy in his writings and none in his heart, that a dead ass was a dearer object to him than a dying mother. Thus also in the present instance ; while the noble lord was erecting a mausoleum to his dog, in the park of Newstead, he had so little respect for decorum, as to rake into the cemetery of his ancestors, for a skull sufficiently capacious and in a proper state to be converted into a carousing cup. Having found one to his liking, without troubling himself whether it had belonged to man or woman, to his grandfather or grandmother, he had it mounted upon a silver stand, with an inscription engraven round it, which for spirit might rival the Bacchanalian productions of the Teian bard; but which, for delicacy of sentiment, could only become the Scandinavian barbarians, who deemed it the highest point of felicity that they should in the future state be seated in the hall of Odin, and there get intoxicated by quaffing strong liquors from the skulls of those over whom they had triumphed in battle. REFLECTIONS. 91 But, as Sir Thomas Browne observes, " to be knaved out of our graves, to have our skulls made drinking-bowls, and our bones turned into pipes to delight and sport our enemies, are tragical abomi- nations." What, however, would that energetic writer have said of a youth possessing ample means, and a lively genius, polished by education, who could so far forget the natural awe and sensibility produced by the sight of the last reliques of mortality, as to make a wassailing cup of the head of one of his progenitors, whose virtue perhaps, in a former age, had been a blessing and an example to that mansion and the neighbourhood ? Anchorets have been accustomed to take a skull for their companion and monitor, to remind them of the vanity of life, and to prepare their thoughts for death, by learning from it the salutary lesson of a constant subjugation of the passions. But it is to be hoped, for the honour of humanity, that there are few or none so lost to the impression of that truth as to look upon a skull, and read these lines written beneath it, without a chill of horror and disgust : 92 INSCRIPTION, " Quaff while thou canst— another race, When thou and thine like me are sped, May rescue thee from earth's embrace, And rhyme and revel with the dead." Now whatever may be thought of the " rhyme," there surely cannot be two opinions among rational men, concerning that " revelry," which is promoted by the emblems of mortality. After this mockery of the great Counsellor who man inspires With every nobler thought and fairer deed, one ceases to wonder at the melancholy whinings oc- casioned by repeated disappointments in love, or at the frequent allusion to early riot and intemperance which abound in the juvenile productions of the noble au- thor ; for of what value could that passion be, which had nothing but external form and sensual gratifi- cation for its excitement, and which, when crossed, sought oblivion in a goblet, fetched from the charnel house ? As the love that inspires poets with be?- dtfui MISTRESSES. 93 imagery, and tender sentiments, frequently becomes ridiculous, when traced to its origin, so it will be often found scandalously immoral in its effects. It is doubtful whether the Laura of Petrarch had ever any real existence : but the Chloe of Prior is certainly known to have been a vulgar drab, and a common prostitute. All the publications of Lord Byron, exhibit proofs that the fire of his passions burst forth with the flame of his genius ; and that, while yet in his boyhood, he had more mistresses than muses. It is curious to observe, how pathetecally he complains in his verses, of the inconstancy of one, the marriage of another, the death of a third, and the " light fame" of a fourth ; — but though every loss, according to his own account, blighted his happiness, and made the world a blank : he " is not always," as Johnson says of Waller " at the last gasp ; he does not die of a frown nor live, upon a smile. There is, however, too much love and too many trifles. Little things are made too important ; and the empire of beauty is represented as exerting its influence further than can be allowed 94 AMATORY POEMS. by the multiplicity of human passions, and the variety of human wants." Had the amatory productions of the noble author been confined to his first publications, there would have been little occasion for these remarks ; but in almost every one of his subsequent volumes, he brings before the reader some of those effusions of his pen, of which, upon sober reflection, he ought to have felt ashamed. What idea can be entertained in favour of the moral constitution of that mind, which in one moment is disconsolate at having been deprived by death of a loving and beloved maiden ; and in the next, is breathing out the most tender sentiments to a married woman ! Is it possible that the love could be pure, which had so many objects ; or that the grief could be sincere, which was so soon converted into ardent devotion for a new idol ? The pride of him who seeks fame by his conquests over the female heart, is of the most contemptible de- scription ; and yet, what else but this could induce AFFECTED SENSIBILITY. 95 any man to publish, though under enigmatic signatures, the variety of his amorous connexions ? Though the writing of love elegies, and stanzas " on a mistress's eyebrows," may not be altogether affectation; the print- ing of such performances certainly savours more of vanity than feeling, since it manifests as strong a wish to gain credit for fine verses as for tender senti- ments. It is related of one of our poets, that he made every incident of his life the subject of an ode or a sonnet. On hearing that his only son lay ill, and that his life was despaired of, he exclaimed very affectionately, — " Oh, I will sit down and write an elegy upon him." — " Had you not better," said his friend, " order your carriage immediately, and console him by your presence ?" This story will apply pertinently enough to illustrate the true quality of that esteem which is expressed in metaphors, and clothed in numbers ; which pretends raptures that are not felt, and describes beauties that are not seen. 96 GLENARVON. Such, there is every reason to believe, was the real nature of that passion, which burns so ardently in the amatory lines of Lord Byron, but in which there is too much richness of phrase, to comport with true sensibility. One female of elevated rank, who was said to have been in the number of those to whom the poet pro- fessed more than common attachment, took ample revenge on him for his inconstancy and freedom, by drawing his character as the hero of a novel, which for a time, arrested the public curiosity in no ordinary degree. In that performance his lordship's supposed intrigues and infidelity were laid open with unsparing severity ; and, with the exception of Zeluco, and the personages that figure most conspicuously in the noble lord's principal poems, it will not be easy to meet with any thing more repulsive either in works of fiction, or in the world of reality, than what has been exhibited in caricature by the author of Glenarvon. CHAPTER VI. Voyage to Lisbon. — Assassination. — Travels in Spain. — Patriotic War. — Voyage to Greece. — Albania. — Ali Pacha. — Anecdotes. — High- landers. — Athens. — Spoliations. — Poem of Mi- nerva. — Tweddell. — Literally Pursuits. — Eman- cipation of the Greeks. — Adventure in the Hel- lespont. — Return to England. ON arriving at the age of manhood, Lord Byron took a long leave of his native country, with the view of making a tour in foreign lands ; but as the ordinary course of travelling through Europe was then impeded, by the war which prevailed between . England and France, he embarked at Falmouth, for Lisbon, in- tending to proceed from thence across the Peninsula to the Mediterranean. The companion of his voyage was Mr. Hobhouse, in conjunction with whom he had just before published a small volume of poems and if 98 LISBON. translations; which attracted so little notice, that almost the whole impression was converted into waste paper. Though Portugal was at this time occupied by the British forces, who were engaged in the defence of the country against the French, such was the frequency of assassination in the streets of Lisbon and its vicinity, that the people paid no more respect to their protectors than to their own country- men. Englishmen were daily butchered ; and so far from redress being obtained, not the slightest notice was taken of these murders ; and it was even dan- gerous to interfere on such occasions. " I was once stopped," says Lord Byron, " on the way to the theatre at eight o'clock in the evening, when the streets were not more empty than they gene- rally are at that hour, opposite to an open shop, and in a carriage with a friend. Had we not fortunately been armed, I have not the least doubt that we should have adorned a tale instead of telling one." A state of society so disorganized as this could not but excite indignant feelings in a sensible mind, espe- cially when the moral disorder was contrasted with ASSASSINATION. 99 the wonders and beauties which nature had wasted on such men. Yet there was nothing new or strange in all this; for the present writer remembers to have witnessed similar acts of atrocity in that very city, many years before the visit of Lord Byron. Walking one morning in the neighbourhood of Belem, he saw a Portuguese barber issue furiously out of his shop, and, without the least provocation in the world, plunge a stiletto into the side of an English sailor who happened to be passing quietly along. Having perpetrated this mur- derous deed, the assassin ran with all haste till he reached the church, where he fell prostrate before the altar, crossed himself with great appearance of devo- tion, and, being in that sanctuary, escaped punish- ment. An enquiry was indeed made into the affair, but without answering any other end than that of ascertaining the motive of the misguided wretch, who fancied it a meritorious act to destroy an heretic. Where then religion is considered as a justifiable plea for shedding human blood, it ought not to raise wonder that the stimulants of revenge and rapacious- 100 ANECDOTE. ness should operate to the commission of homicide. That an offence so heinous should cease to be regarded as a crime, can only be accounted for by the total deficiency of moral principle, and the facility of obtaining absolution for every thing short of sacrilege and heresy, which, in Spain, Portugal, and Italy, are sins infinitely greater than the violation of all the ten commandments. " Pray," said a priest to one of his parishioners, who in his confession, particularly enumerated offences of such little moment as eating flesh on fast-days, — " pray friend, have you never been guilty of robbing a tra- veller, now and then?" — "Oh yes, father; to be sure, I have," answered the peasant with great frankness. " Well, and I suppose, that upon a time you and your fellows have not scrupled to murder some of those unfortunate passengers who have chanced to fall in your way." — " No," says the robber, " not exactly murdered them, your reverence ; we only put them to death, when they made a show of resistance ; and then it was a matter of course/' Our noble traveller, therefore, might have easily , I * 1 : * - PORTUGAL. 101 traced the cause of the indifference with which assassination is treated in Portugal, to something else than the degeneracy of the people of that country ; since he must have known that the crime is not peculiar to that nation, but prevails, more or less, wherever the form of sacerdotal absolution is regarded as equivalent to a complete remission of sins. During his short residence at Lisbon, Lord Byron made excursions to Coimbra, the university of Por- tugal ; to Mafra, the palace where the late Queen resided after the loss of her reason ; and to the ro- mantic seat built in a secluded spot on the side of a mountain by our countryman Beckford, but which was then abandoned by the owner, whose history in many respects bears a melancholy resemblance to that of the noble poet. Having just seen enough of the Portuguese capital to admire the beauty of the surrounding scenery, and to conceive an utter dislike to the nation, our traveller pursued his course across the mountainous ridge that divides the province of Alentejo, and then, descending Mm*m -^ 102 SPAIN. to the banks of the dark Guadiana at Beia, entered the plains of Andalusia. The period was extremely critical, for upon the fate of Spain, hung suspended that of Europe: but though a general anxiety pre- vailed among all those who were panting for the peace of the world; and who knew that this desirable object was a consummation not to be expected, so long as the Colossus of France remained unsubdued ; such was the apathy of the noble lord, an apathy ac- quired in the school of politics to which he had attached himself, that he looked with splenetic uncon- cern upon the tremendous struggle, and beheld the agitated state of the country where he now stood, with the same feelings that he would have contem- plated the war of the ant-hill. The very circumstance of a nation being forced to contend for its political existence with a gigantic power, by whom it had been drawn into an alliance under the pledge of protection, was of a nature to rouse the most phlegmatic spirit into resentment against the oppressor. Yet nothing of this natural sense of justice, or this PATRIOTIC WAR. 1 0^ sympathy with the injured, appears to have been felt by Lord Byron when, on passing the gentle river that divided Portugal from Spain, he heard that warlike sound which threatened the annihilation of a king- dom, and the subjection of the people to a foreign and hated yoke. Instead of being warmed, with the usual ardour of youthful heroism in such a cause, and looking upon the men with admiration, who were thus generously resolved to save their country or to perish with its independence, Lord Byron ventured to ridicule the Spanish Patriots as fools, and to pro- nounce a decisive judgment against the mighty under- taking in which they were gloriously embarked. It is much to be regretted, that a mind so feelingly alive to the harmony of nature in other respects, and so susceptible of the most powerful impressions from the wonders of the material creation, should have been out of tune only when brought into association with the rest of the species. Yet thus early did the disposition to expel the whole moral world from the communion of charitable sentiment develope itself in this noble person, who saw nothing wrong in the universe, except mankind. 104 ALBANIA. From Seville, which, according to the representation given of the place by its noble visitant, was at this period sunk in lewdness, his lordship proceeded to Cadiz, where he remained some time, and then em- barked with his friend Hobhouse in an English frigate for the Mediterranean. Our travellers explored Albania before they visited any other part of the Ottoman dominions, and having reached Joannina, the capital of Ali Pacha's territory, were presented to that chief by Major now Colonel Leake, the English resident. Ali received them with the greatest respect, and gave them an invitation to Te- paleni, his birth-place, and favourite seat, which though only one day's distance from Berent, where he then was, the journey took up nine in the accomplishment, on ac- count of the rains. In this excursion, Lord Byron and his companion were overtaken by a violent thunder- storm, during which the guides lost their way, so that it was with great difficulty and no little peril that they regained the right road in this mountainous country. The resemblance between the inhabitants of this region, and the Highlanders of Scotland, in dress, figure, and manner of living, struck his lordship very THE INHABITANTS. 105 forcibly. The very mountains of Albania seemed to him Caledonian, but only with a kinder climate. The kilt, though white ; the spare active form ; the dialect, Celtic in its sound ; and the hardy habits of the Albanians, all carried the mind of the noble tra- veller back to the days of his childhood, and the hills of Morven. " No nation," says he, " are so detested by their neighbours, as these mountaineers are by all the tribes in the vicinity. The Greeks hardly regard them as Christians, or the Turks as Moslems ; and in fact, they are a mixture of both, and sometimes neither. Their habits are predatory : all are armed ; and the red-shawled Arnaouts, the Montenegrins, Chimariots and Gaydes, are treacherous ; the others differ some- what in garb, and essentially in character. As far as my own experience goes," continues the noble lord, " I can speak favourably. I was attended by two, an Infidel and a Mussulman, to Constantinople, and every other part of Turkey which came within my observation ; and men more faithful in peril, or indefatigable in service, are rarely to be found. The Infidel was named Basilius, the Moslem Dervish Tahiri : the former a man of middle age, and the latter about my own. Basilius was strictly charged 106 FIDELITY. by Ali Pacha in person to attend us ; and Dervish was one of fifty who accompanied us through the forests of Acarnania to the banks of the Achelous, and onward to Messalunghi in iEtolia. There I took him into my own service, and never had occasion to repent till the moment of my departure." «Of the attachment of these mountaineers his lord- ship gives the following remarkable instances : "When in 1810, after the departure of my friend Mr. Hobhouse for England, I was seized with a severe fever in the Morea, these men saved my life, by frightening away my physician, whose throat they threatened to cut, if I was not cured within a given time. To this consolatory assurance of posthumous retribution, and a resolute refusal of Dr. Romanelli's prescriptions, I attribute my recovery. I had left my last remaining English servant at Athens ; my drago man, or interpreter, was as ill as myself; and my poor Arnaouts nursed me with an attention which would have done honour to civilization. ; " When preparations were made for my return, my to P AFFECTION. 107 Albanians were summoned to receive their pay. Basilius took his with an awkward show of regret at my intended departure, and marched away to his quarters with his bag of piastres. I sent for Dervish, but for some time he was not to be found ; at last he entered, just as Signor Logotheti, father to the Anglo-consul at Athens, and some other of my Greek acquaintances, paid me a visit. Dervish took the money, but on a sudden dashed it to the ground, and clasping his hands, which he raised to his forehead, rushed out of the room weeping bitterly. From that moment to the hour of my embarkation, he continued his lamentations, and all our efforts to console him only produced this answer, " He leaves me!" — Signor Logotheti, who never wept before for any thing less than the loss of a para, (about the fourth of a farthing,) the Padre of the convent, my attendants, and my visitors, melted ; and I verily believe that even Sterne's foolish fat scullion would have left her fish-kettle to sympathize with the unaffected and un- expected sorrow of this barbarian. For my own part, when I remembered that, a short time before my de- parture from England, a noble and most intimate associate had excused himself from taking leave of me, 108 ANECDOTES. * because he had to attend a relation to a milliner's' — I felt no less surprised than humiliated by the present occurrence and the past recollection." One or two more anecdotes related of this child of nature are both interesting and characteristic. " That Dervish," says his lordship, " would leave me with some regret was to be expected ; for when master and man have been scrambling over the mountains of a dozen provinces together, they are unwilling to separate ; but his present feelings, contrasted with his native ferocity, improved my opinion of the human heart. I believe this almost feudal fidelity is frequent among them. One day, on our journey over Parnassus, an English- man in my service gave him a push, in some dispute about the baggage, which he unluckily mistook for a blow ; he spoke not, but sat down, leaning his head upon his hands. Foreseeing the consequences, we endeavoured to explain away the affront, which only produced the following answer:—* I have been a robber ;— I am a soldier ;— no captain ever struck me ; —You are my master ;— I have eaten your bread ;— but by that bread (a usual oath) had it been otherwise, I would have stabbed the dog your servant, and gone ANECDOTES. 109 to the mountains.' So the affair ended ; but from that day forward he never thoroughly forgave the thoughtless fellow by whom he had been insulted. " On my third journey to Cape Colonna, as we passed through the defile that leads from the hamlet between Keratia and Colonna, I observed Dervisli riding rather out of the path, and leaning his head upon his hand as if in pain. I rode up to him and enquired. ' We are in peril,' he answered. — ' What peril ? We are not now in Albania, nor in the passes to Ephesus, Messalunghi, or Lepanto; there are plenty of us, well armed, and the Choriates have not courage to be thieves.' — ' True, Affendi, (that is, Lord,) but nevertheless the shot is ringing in my ears/ — ' The shot ! not one has been fired this morning.' — * I hear it notwithstanding— bom, bom, as plainly as I hear your voice.' — * Pshaw !' — ' As you please, Affendi ; if it is written, so will it be.' I left this quick-eared predestinarian, and rode up to Basili, his Christian compatriot, whose ears, though not at all prophetic, by no means relished the intelligence. We all arrived at Colonna, remained some hours, and re- turned leisurely, saying a variety of brilliant things in 110 ANECDOTES. more languages than spoiled the building of Babel, upon the mistaken seer. While we were contem- plating the beautiful prospect, Dervish was occupied about the columns. I thought he was deranged into an antiquarian, and asked him if he had become a Palaocastro man ? — ' No,' said he, ' but these pillars will be useful in making a stand ;' and added other remarks which at least evinced his own beliet in his troublsome faculty of ' forehearing.' On our return to Athens, we heard from Leon6, (a prisoner set on shore some days after,) of an intended attack from a party of Mainotes concealed in the caverns beneath, and that they were only deterred from attacking us by the appearance of my two Albanians, conjecturing very sagaciously, but falsely, that we had a complete guard of Arnaouts at hand. I was at some pains to question the man, and he described the dresses, arms, and marks of the horses of our party so accurately, that, with other circumstance?, we could not doubt of his having been in villanous company, and ourselves in a bad neighbourhood." When Lord Byron noticed the striking affinity be- tween his Albanian friends, in language, person, and HIGHLANDERS. Ill manners, and the mountaineers of North Britain, it is * wonderful that he should have passed over the faculty possessed by Dervish, which bears so strong a resem- blance to the gift of prescience said to be still exist- ing among the Highlanders. The similarity in this respect is full as observable as in others; and yet there is nothing in either, but what may very well be accounted for upon common principles. The inhabi- tants of lofty regions are universally of a spare and active constitution, for they are from infancy accus- tomed to constant exercise ; which of course requires a dress adapted to agility, and not liable to incommode the wearers. In regard to quickness of perception also, the dwellers on lofty eminences, have a manifest advantage over those who reside on plains, in towns, and in valleys ; since the very situations which the mountaineers occupy, and the pursuits in which they are almost constantly engaged, compel them to a per- petual exertion of the organs of hearing and sight. To the same cause may be ascribed the sharp, so- norous, and guttural sounds which distinguish the native tongues of Highlanders, from the more liquid and modulated languages of social life in closely con- nected communities. 112 ATHE.VS. So likewise, without any disparagement of Lord Byron's judgment, or detracting from the merit of his Albanian servant, we see nothing extraordinary in the sensibility of Dervish on parting with his master. No doubt the expression w r as creditable to both, since it was a proof of gratitude felt, for kindness uniformly bestowed ; but where such a liberal patron had never been known, and where one of like courtesy was not likely again to be found, it was natural that the los^er should be affected by the separation. When Lord Byron and his company visited Athens, they were greatly mortified and thoroughly indignant to see the place dismantled of many of the beauties which had rendered the spot, even in its dilapidated state, sacred in the estimation of all travellers who possessed any reverence for the genius of antiquity. But the ravages of time, and those committed by barbarians, bore no comparison to the extent of the spoliation recently perpetrated in the name, and by the orders of an English Ambassador at the Porte ; who had exerted his influence so effec- tually as almost to demolish several of the finest of the temples that were then remaining. After this is VANITY PUNISHED. 1 13 was too much in the spirit of Erostratus for the same nobleman to cause his own name, together with that of his wife, to be inscribed on a pillar of the temple of Minerva. This extraordinary mark of vanity, however, was actually executed in a very conspicuous manner, and deeply engraved in the marble, at a con- siderable elevation. Lord Byron, on beholding the inscription, was so much hurt, and conceived such a just abhorrence of this presumption, which he con- sidered as almost amounting to sacrilege, that with great labour and difficulty he got himself raised up to the requisite height, and obliterated the name of the earl, but gallantly left that of the lady untouched. Besides this act of zeal, he adopted another, and severer method of humbling the pride of his brother peer ; for, on the west side of the same temple, he caused the following monkish lines to be very deeply cut, in large characters : " Quod non fecerunt Goti, Hoc fecerunt Scoti." But the resentment of our young lord was not limited to mere localities. He invoked his powerful 114 POEM OF "MINERVA." muse on the occasion, and, as if he had been actually inspired by the Genius of the place, he wrote a poem, the opening part of which constitutes the introduction to the second Canto of Childe Harold, but the re- mainder was suppressed as being too caustic for pub- lication. In this performance, composed amid the ruins of the temple of Minerva, the goddess is repre- sented as addressing herself to the noble bard, and calling upon him to " survey her vacant violated fane," despoiled by Alaric and the modern Goth. Pallas then proceeds : " Arms gave the first his right, the last had none, But basely stole what less barbarians won : So when the lion quits the fell repast, Next prowls the wolf, the filthy jackall last: Flesh, limbs, and blood, the former make their own, The last base brute securely gnaws the bone. Yet still the gods are just, and crimes are crost, See here what ***** won, and what he lost. Another name with his pollutes my shrine : Behold where Dian's beams disdain to shine. Some retribution still might Pallas claim, When Venus half aveng'd Minerva's shame." POEM OF " MINERVA." 115 In allusion to the country of the spoliator, the god- dess is made to express her vindictive feelings in these vigorous lines : '* And thus accursed be the day and year She sent a Pict to play the felon here. Yet Caledonia claims some native worth, And dull Bosotia gave a Pindar birth. So may her few, the letter'd and the brave, Bound to no clime, and victors o'er the grave, Shake off the mossy slime of such a land, And shine like children of a happier strand. Mortal, (the blue-ey'd maid resumed once more) Bear back my mandate to thy native shore : Though fallen, alas ! this vengeance yet is mine, To turn my counsels far from lands like thine. Hear, then, in silence, Pallas' stern behest ; Hear and believe, for time will tell the rest : First, on the head of him who did the deed, My curse shall light, on him and all his seed. Without one spark of intellectual fire, Be all his sons as senseless as their sire ; If one with wit the parent-breed disgrace, Believe him bastard of a better race ; Still with his hireling artists let him prate, And Folly's praise repay for Wisdom's hate. 116 LOUD ELGIN. Long of their patron's gusto let them tell, Whose noblest native gusto is to sell; To sell, and make (may shame record the day) The State, receiver of his pilfer'd prey." These extracts are sufficient to show the spirit in which the whole piece was written, and the necessity of withholding it from publication. But the author condensed and pointed the virus of it in one stanza of the poetic narrative of his travels, as follows : " But most the modern Pict's ignoble boast, To rive what Goth, and Turk, and Time hath spared ; Cold as the crags upon his native coast, His mind as barren, and his heart as hard, Is he whose head Conceived, whose hand prepared Aught to displace Athena's poor remains : Her sons, too weak the sacred shrine to guard, Yet felt some portion of their mother's pains, And never knew till then the weight of despot's chains." In a note on this passage, the author relates these curious particulars of the final ruin of Athens, by British agency : SPOLIATIONS. 117 "An Italian painter of the first eminence, named Lusieri, is the agent of devastation ; and like the G reek finder of Verres in Sicily, who followed the same profession, he has proved the able instrument of plunder. Between this artist, and the French Consul, Fauvel, who wishes to rescue the remains for his own government, there is now a violent dispute concerning a car employed in their conveyance, the wheel of which (I wish they were both broken upon it,) has been locked up by the Consul \ and Lusieri has laid his complaint before the Waywode. Lord Elgin has been extremely happy in his choice of Signor Lu- sieri. During a residence. of ten years at Athens, he never had the curiosity, to proceed as far as Sunium, till he accompanied us in our second excursion. However, his works, as far as they go, are most beautiful ; but they are almost all unfinished. While he and his patrons confine themselves to tasting metals, appreciating cameos, sketching columns, and cheapening gems, their little absurdities are as harmless as insect or fox-hunting, maiden-speechifying, barouche driving, or any such pastime ; but when they carry away three or four ship-loads of the most valuable and massy relics, that time and barbarism have left to \fy% 118 SPOLIATIONS. most injured and most celebrated of cities'; when they destroy, in a vain attempt to tear down, those works, which have been the admiration of ages, I know no motive which can excuse, no name which can designate, the perpetrators of this most dastardly devastation. It was not the least of the crimes laid to the charge of Verres, that he had plundered Sicily, in the manner since imitated at Athens. The most unblushing impudence could hardly go further than to affix the name of its plunderer to the walls of the Acropolis ; while the wanton and useless defacement of the whole range of the basso-relievos, in one com- partment of the temple, will never permit that name to be pronounced by an observer without execration. On this occasion I speak impartially : I am not a collector, or admirer of collections, consequently no rival ; but I have some early prepossession in favour of Greece, and do not think the honour of England advanced by plunder, whether of India or Attica. " Another noble lord has done better, because he has done less ; but some others, more or less noble, yet " all honourable men," have done best, because, ELGIN MARBLES. 119 after a deal of excavation, and execration, they have done nothing at all. We had such ink shed, and wine shed, which almost ended in blood-shed ! — Lord E's prig quarrelled with another, Gropius by name, (and a very good name too for his business,) and mut- tered something about satisfaction, in a verbal answer to a note of the poor Prussain : this was stated at table to Gropius, who laughed, but could eat no dinner afterwards. The rivals were not reconciled when I left Greece. I have reason to remember their squabble, for they wanted to make me their arbi- trator." The national purchase of the Athenian marbles, and the transfer of them to the British Museum, can hardly be considered as justifying the manner in which those treasures were obtained ; though when they were obtained, it was perhaps prudent to secure them from going out of the kingdom. There can be no doubt in regard to the motive of the person who first got them into his possession ; and, therefore, all the cant about the love of the arts, and of the patriotic wish to enrich England, by those relics of ancient genius which France coveted so much, will be con- 120 M. FAUVEL. sidered as so much dust raised to cover what nothing could excuse. It is true Fauvel was employed in Greece, in collecting curious remains for the National Institute ; but let us hear what he says himself on the subject, three years before the arrival of Lord Byron. In a letter to M. Monge, he thus observes and com- plains: " General Sebastiani, to whom I am recom- mended with respect to the arts and antiquities, has not yet honoured me with an answer. I have re- quested him to procure me liberty to make researches wherever I please, without being liable to interruption from the preponderance of the English, owing, it must however be confessed, to their money. As I am not provided with the same weapons, I am obliged to have recourse to our ambassador, who is an amateur and connoisseur in antiquities. In your kind letter, you offer me your services for the preservation and publi- cation of my discoveries, for which I thank you ; but the war prevents me from sending any thing. On the conclusion of peace, I shall claim your promise, and avail myself of your offer to place in security whatever I may think myself liable to be robbed of, as long as the temple of Janus shall remain open." NATIONAL CLAIMS. 121 Again he says in another letter to the same asso- ciate of the Institute: " Without information, and al- ways uncertain with regard to our fate, I retire to rest in the midst of my works, my antiquities, and my medals, ignorant whether to-morrow I may call my- self their owner. Judge therefore, my friend, whether this situation is suited to the artist and the amateur. It is indeed so precarious that I think nothing safe, but what I commit to paper." Now it is evident From this, that while the English minister made use of his influence to get the most pre- cious remains of ancient art into his possession, the French ambassador took no concern at all in the matter ; but left poor Fauvel to contend, as well as he could, with the superior power of his rival. After this, and it deserves notice that the fact is admitted in Lord Elgin's own publication, it becomes a mate- rial question whether his lordship attained the marbles of Athens in his public or private , capacity. If, as there is every reason to believe, that it was in the former alone, and that otherwise he could not have succeeded ; then the national repository ought to have received them as a matter of right ; but if in the latter, 122 ATHENIANS. then the representative of the British monarch acted the part of a trafficker, when he ought to have been differently employed. In an official publication entitled, " a Memorandum on the subject of the Earl of Elgin's Pursuits in Greece," great stress is laid upon the vast importance of the treasures which he procured at Athens, and the perilous state from which they were rescued by his exertions. Now as it is allowed that these remains of ancient sculpture had continued undisturbed during many ages, it is hardly to be supposed that they were in danger of being destroyed at the enlightened period when our minister took such pains to get them into his hands. What the barbarians of the middle ages had spared, the Greeks and the Turks of the present gene- ration were not the parties to remove or destroy ; for the best of all reasons, the desire of gain, which they both well knew was promoted by the preservation of these valuable objects. As to the Athenians them- selves, who were the most interested in taking care of the relics of their ancient glory ; though they might not perhaps be enthusiasts in the cause of science, they could neither be devoid of the' feeling of national ATHENIANS. 123 pride, nor yet insensible of the advantages resulting from the visits of foreigners to survey the ruins of their city and neighbourhood. We are assured by Lord Byron, who from his long residence there at the time must have been well ac- quainted with the sentiments of the Greeks, that there was but one opinion among them upon the spoliation, which they were compelled to witness, and could only lament. " We can all feel or imagine," says his lordship, " the regret with which the ruins of cities, once the capitals of empires, are beheld ; the reflections sug- gested by such events are too trite to require recapitu- lation. But never did the littleness of man and the vanity of his very best virtues, of patriotism to exalt, and of valour to defend his country, appear more conspicuous than in the record of what Athens was, and the certainty of what she now is. This theatre of contention between mighty factions, of the struggles of orators, the exaltation and deposition of tyrants, the triumph and punishment of generals, is now be- come a scene of petty intrigue and perpetual disturb- 124 THE PARTHENON. ance, between the bickering agents of certain British nobility and gentry. The wild foxes, the owls, and serpents in the ruins of Babylon, were surely less degrading than such inhabitants. The Turks have the plea of conquest for their tyranny, and the Greeks have only suffered the fortune of war, incidental to the bravest; but how are the mighty fallen, when two painters contest the privilege of plundering the Parthenon, and triumph in turn, according to the tenour of each succeeding firmaun ! Sylla could but punish, Philip subdue, and Xerxes burn Athens ; but it remained for the paltry antiquarian, and his despi- cable agents, to render her contemptible as himself and his pursuits. The Parthenon, before its destruc- tion in part by fire, during the Venetian siege, had been a temple, a church, and a mosque. In each point of view, it is an object of regard ; for though it changed its worshippers, it was still a place of wor- ship; being therefore thrice sacred to devotion, its violation is a triple sacrilege.'' During the residence of Lord Byron at Athens, he joined with one or two more Englishmen in paying a tribute of respect to the remains of the learned John TW ED PELL.. 125 Tweddell, Fellow of Triuity College, Cambridge, who died in that city, while on his travels, in the summer of 1799. No stone or inscription had marked the spot in the Theseum where the bones of this accom- plished scholar lay, till the noble lord and Mr. John Fiott, of St. John's College, succeeded though not without some opposition, in placing on the grave a large block of marble, with a beautiful Greek epitaph thereon, written by Mr. Walpole. Amidst his excursions and amusements, the noble lord devoted much of his time to the attainment of the Romaic or modern language of Greece, and also of the Turkish, which is infinitely more difficult. Of the former he became complete master ; and the notes to his principal poems evince the diligence of his ap- plication, and the extent of his acquirements in philo- logical erudition. But, perhaps, the happiest proofs of his facility in making himself thoroughly acquainted with the structure and idioms of modern tongues, are to be found in his translations. It is no hard. matter, with the help of dictionaries and grammars, especially when a good instructor can 126 LORD BYRON'S JOURNAL. also be procured, to gain a competent knowledge of any living speech ; but it requires genius of a very superior description to seize the poetic spirit of one language, and to diffuse it without evaporation into another. This, however, has been accomplished most effectually by Lord Byron, in his versions of French, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, and Greek poems ; and that which enhances the merit of these performances, is the difficulty of expressing the manner, as well as the very thought of the original, when both have a peculiarity arising from local customs, sentiments, and phraseology. It is, therefore, evident that the time of this young nobleman was not idly spent, or thrown away upon trifling objects, while on his travels ; and though he has withheld from the public, the journal of his pro- gress, those who have been favoured with a sight of it can bear testimony to the elegance of the descriptive part, and the judgment displayed in the reflections. Some idea indeed of the value of the narrative, may be formed from the detached notes which the author has himself selected out of the mass, as illus- CAPE COLO NX A. 1 c 2 7 trative of his poems. In one of these, he has given a brief but admirable sketch of the ruins of Minerva's temple, situated on the promontory of Sunium, now called Cabo Colonna, or the Cape of the Columns, from the pillars which adorn its brow. " In all Attica," says Lord Byron, " if we except Athens itself and Marathon, there is no scene more interesting than Cape Colonna. To the antiquary and artist, sixteen columns are an inexhaustible source of ob- servation and design ; to the philosopher, the supposed scene of Plato's conversations, will not be unwelcome ; and the traveller will be struck with the beauty of the prospect over ' Isles that crown the iEgean deep f but for an Englishman, Colonna has yet an additional interest, as the actual spot of Falconer's shipwreck. Pallas and Plato are forgotten in the recollection of Falconer and Campbell. This temple of Minerva may be seen at sea, from a great distance. In two journeys which I made, and one voyage to Colonna, the view from either side by land was less striking than the approach from the Isles." With regard to the climate of Attica, Lord Byron 128 CLIMATE. observes, that, " setting aside the magic of the name, and all those associations which it would be pedantic and superfluous to recapitulate ; the verysituatio n of Athens would render it the favourite of all who have eyes for art or nature. The climate, to me at least, appeared a perpetual spring; during eight months I never passed a day without being as many hours on horseback : rain is extremely rare, snow never lies in the plains, and a cloudy day is an agree- able rarity. In Spain, Portugal, and every part of the east which I visited, except Ionia and Attica, I perceived no such superiority of climate to our own ; and at Constantinople you might damn the climate, and complain of spleen, five days out of seven." This remark on the excellence of the English cli- mate, brings to recollection the saying of Charles the Second, who had himself been a traveller, and that for a long period. After his restoration, the discourse turned one day, in his presence, upon the pleasantness of the different countries on the continent of Europe. Some having praised one part and some another ; the king said, " Well, gentlemen, you have all given your LITLIiAKY PURSUITS. ] %9 opinions; and now I wiil let you know mine. I have lived abroad longer than any of you ; but never saw the country yet where I could remain out ofxloors so many days in the year as in Engl and. " Though Lord Byron traversed the Morea in every direction, and extended his travels over Eubcea, as well as the plain of Athens, and every part of Achaia, he paid diligent attention to literary pursuits, and not only sketched, but actually wrote some of those pieces which he has since published. Of his zeal for letters he gave an instance in exchanging a very valuable antique gem for a triglot manuscript Lexicon ; and he also undertook the commission to get printed for his Greek tutor, a Romaic translation of Barthelemi's Travels of Anacharsis ; but this work, on account of the heaviness of the expense, never appeared. From the interest excited by the present aspect of affairs in the East, and the exertions now making by the Greeks to recover and establish their independence, we are naturally led to inquire into the opinion of so intelligent an observer as Lord Byron, concerning that people and their political state. K 130 THE GREEKS. At the time when his lordship resided there, the condition of these oppressed descendants of heroes and sages became the frequent subject of conver- sation, among the foreigners who were assembled as it were from all parts of Europe, in that famous seat of antiquity. But it is mortifying to see the little sym- pathy which these visitors felt for the Greeks, and the general contempt in which those people were then held by the Franks. Lord Byron gives the substance of what he heard from the best informed, and oldest residents, in these words : " Mr. Fauvel, the French Consul, who has passed thirty years principally at Athens, and to whose talents as an artist, and manners as a gentleman, none who have known him can refuse their testimony, has frequently declared in my hearing that the Greeks do not deserve to be emancipated ; reasoning on the grounds of their " national and individual depravity ;" while he forgot that such depravity is to be attributed to causes which can only be removed by the measure he reprobates. — Mr. Roque, a French THE GREEKS. 131 merchant of respectability, long settled in Athens, asserted with the most amusing gravity, ' Sir, they are the same canaille that existed in the days of The- mistocles ;' — an alarming remark to the ' Laudatur temporis acti.' The ancients banished Themistocles ; the moderns cheat Monsieur Roque ; thus great men have ever been treated !