Chapter CI: Letter 494: To Mr. Murray

"Montenero[80], May 26. 1822.

"Near Leghorn.

"The body is embarked, in what ship I know not, neither could I
enter into the details; but the Countess G.G. has had the goodness
to give the necessary orders to Mr. Dunn, who superintends the
embarkation, and will write to you. I wish it to be buried in
Harrow church.

"There is a spot in the church_yard_, near the footpath, on the
brow of the hill looking towards Windsor, and a tomb under a large
tree, (bearing the name of Peachie, or Peachey,) where I used to
sit for hours and hours when a boy. This was my favourite spot;
but, as I wish to erect a tablet to her memory, the body had better
be deposited in the church. Near the door, on the left hand as you
enter, there is a monument with a tablet containing these words:--

"'When Sorrow weeps o'er Virtue's sacred dust,
Our tears become us, and our grief is just:
Such were the tears she shed, who grateful pays
This last sad tribute of her love and praise.'

I recollect them (after seventeen years), not from any thing
remarkable in them, but because from my seat in the gallery I had
generally my eyes turned towards that monument. As near it as
convenient I could wish Allegra to be buried, and on the wall a
marble tablet placed, with these words:--

In Memory of
Allegra,
Daughter of G.G. Lord Byron,
who died at Bagna Cavallo,
in Italy, April 20th, 1822,
aged five years and three months.

'I shall go to her, but she shall not return to me.'
2d Samuel, xii. 23.

"The funeral I wish to be as private as is consistent with decency;
and I could hope that Henry Drury will, perhaps, read the service
over her. If he should decline it, it can be done by the usual
minister for the time being. I do not know that I need add more
just now.

"Since I came here, I have been invited by the Americans on board
their squadron, where I was received with all the kindness which I
could wish, and with _more ceremony_ than I am fond of. I found
them finer ships than your own of the same class, well manned and
officered. A number of American gentlemen also were on board at the
time, and some ladies. As I was taking leave, an American lady
asked me for a _rose_ which I wore, for the purpose, she said, of
sending to America something which I had about me, as a memorial. I
need not add that I felt the compliment properly. Captain Chauncey
showed me an American and very pretty edition of my poems, and
offered me a passage to the United States, if I would go there.
Commodore Jones was also not less kind and attentive. I have since
received the enclosed letter, desiring me to sit for my picture for
some Americans. It is singular that, in the same year that Lady
Noel leaves by will an interdiction for my daughter to see her
father's portrait for many years, the individuals of a nation, not
remarkable for their liking to the English in particular, nor for
flattering men in general, request me to sit for my
'pourtraicture,' as Baron Bradwardine calls it. I am also told of
considerable literary honours in Germany. Goethe, I am told, is my
professed patron and protector. At Leipsic, this year, the highest
prize was proposed for a translation of two cantos of Childe
Harold. I am not sure that this was at _Leipsic_, but Mr. Rowcroft
was my authority--a good German scholar (a young American), and an
acquaintance of Goethe's.

"Goethe and the Germans are particularly fond of Don Juan, which
they judge of as a work of art. I had heard something of this
before through Baron Lutzerode. The translations have been very
frequent of several of the works, and Goethe made a comparison
between Faust and Manfred.

"All this is some compensation for your English native brutality,
so fully displayed this year to its highest extent.

"I forgot to mention a little anecdote of a different kind. I went
over the Constitution (the Commodore's flag-ship), and saw, among
other things worthy of remark, a little boy _born_ on board of her
by a sailor's wife. They had christened him 'Constitution Jones.'
I, of course, approved the name; and the woman added, 'Ah, sir, if
he turns out but half as good as his name!'

"Yours ever," &c.

[Footnote 80: A hill, three or four miles from Leghorn, much resorted to, as a place of residence during the summer months.]

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LETTER. 495. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Montenero, near Leghorn, May 29. 1822.

"I return you the proofs revised. Your printer has made one odd
mistake:--'poor as a _mouse_,' instead of 'poor as a _miser_.' The
expression may seem strange, but it is only a translation of
'semper avarus eget.' You will add the Mystery, and publish as soon
as you can. I care nothing for your 'season,' nor the _blue_
approbations or disapprobations. All that is to be considered by
you on the subject is as a matter of _business_; and if I square
that to your notions (even to the running the risk entirely
myself), you may permit me to choose my own time and mode of
publication. With regard to the late volume, the present run
against _it_ or _me_ may impede it for a time, but it has the vital
principle of permanency within it, as you may perhaps one day
discover. I wrote to you on another subject a few days ago.

Yours, N.B.

"P.S. Please to send me the Dedication of Sardanapalus to Goethe. I
shall prefix it to Werner, unless you prefer my putting another,
stating that the former had been omitted by the publisher.

"On the title-page of the present volume, put 'Published for the
Author by J.M.'"

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