Chapter LXVI: Letter 459: To Mr. Moore

"September 29. 1821.

"I send you two rough things, prose and verse, not much in
themselves, but which will show, one of them, the state of the
country, and the other, of your friend's mind, when they were
written. Neither of them were sent to the person concerned, but you
will see, by the style of them, that they were sincere, as I am in
signing myself

"Yours ever and truly,

"B."

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Of the two enclosures, mentioned in the foregoing note, one was a letter intended to be sent to Lady Byron relative to his money invested in the funds, of which the following are extracts:--

"Ravenna, Marza 1mo, 1821.

"I have received your message, through my sister's letter, about
English security, &c. &c. It is considerate, (and true, even,) that
such is to be found--but not that I shall find it. Mr. * *, for his
own views and purposes, will thwart all such attempts till he has
accomplished his own, viz. to make me lend my fortune to some
client of his choosing.

"At this distance--after this absence, and with my utter ignorance
of affairs and business--with my temper and impatience, I have
neither the means nor the mind to resist. Thinking of the funds as
I do, and wishing to secure a reversion to my sister and her
children, I should jump at most expedients.

"What I told you is come to pass--the Neapolitan war is declared.
Your funds will fall, and I shall be in consequence ruined. That's
nothing--but my blood relations will be so. You and your child are
provided for. Live and prosper--I wish so much to both. Live and
prosper--you have the means. I think but of my real kin and
kindred, who may be the victims of this accursed bubble.

"You neither know nor dream of the consequences of this war. It is
a war of _men_ with monarchs, and will spread like a spark on the
dry, rank grass of the vegetable desert. What it is with you and
your English, you do not know, for ye sleep. What it is with us
here, I know, for it is before, and around, and within us.

"Judge of my detestation of England and of all that it inherits,
when I avoid returning to your country at a time when not only my
pecuniary interests, but, it may be, even my personal security,
require it. I can say no more, for all letters are opened. A short
time will decide upon what is to be done here, and then you will
learn it without being more troubled with me or my correspondence.
Whatever happens, an individual is little, so the cause is
forwarded.

"I have no more to say to you on the score of affairs, or on any
other subject."

* * * * *

The second enclosure in the note consisted of some verses, written by him, December 10th, 1820, on seeing the following paragraph in a newspaper:--"Lady Byron is this year the lady patroness at the annual Charity Ball given at the Town Hall at Hinckley, Leicestershire, and Sir G. Crewe, Bart, the principal steward." These verses are full of strong and indignant feeling,--every stanza concluding pointedly with the words "Charity Ball,"--and the thought that predominates through the whole may be collected from a few of the opening lines:--

"What matter the pangs of a husband and father,
If his sorrows in exile be great or be small,
So the Pharisee's glories around her she gather,
And the Saint patronises her 'Charity Ball.'

"What matters--a heart, which though faulty was feeling,
Be driven to excesses which once could appal--
That the Sinner should suffer is only fair dealing,
As the Saint keeps her charity back for 'the Ball,'" &c. &c.

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