Chapter I (2)

[Footnote 2: Probably the wife of General the Hon. William Harcourt (1742-1830), who distinguished himself in the War of American Independence, succeeded his only brother in 1809 as third (and last) Earl Harcourt, was created a field-marshal in 1821, and died in 1830. He married, in 1778, Mary, daughter of the Rev. William Danby, and widow of Thomas Lockhart. She died in 1833.]

9.--To the Hon. Augusta Byron.

[At General Harcourt's, St. Leonard's Hill, Windsor, Berkshire.]

Burgage Manor, April 2d, 1804.

I received your present, my beloved Augusta, which was very
acceptable, not that it will be of any use as a token of remembrance,
No, my affection for you will never permit me to forget you.

I am afraid, my Dear Girl, that you will be absent when I am in town.
I cannot exactly say when I return to Harrow, but however it will be
in a very short time. I hope you were entertained by Sir Wm. Fawcet's
funeral on Saturday. [1] Though I should imagine such spectacles rather
calculated to excite Gloomy ideas. But I believe _your motive was not
quite of so mournful a cast_.

You tell me that you are tired of London. I am rather surprised to
hear that, for I thought the Gaieties of the Metropolis were
particularly pleasing to _young ladies_. For my part I detest it; the
smoke and the noise feel particularly unpleasant; but however it is
preferable to this horrid place, where I am oppressed with _ennui_,
and have no amusement of any kind, except the conversation of my
mother, which is sometimes very _edifying_, but not always very
_agreeable_. There are very few books of any kind that are either
instructive or amusing, no society but old parsons and old Maids;--I
shoot a Good deal; but, thank God, I have not so far lost my reason as
to make shooting my only amusement. There are indeed some of my
neighbours whose only pleasures consist in field sports, but in other
respects they are only one degree removed from the brute creation.

These however I endeavour not to imitate, but I sincerely wish for the
company of a few friends about my own age to soften the austerity of
the scene. I am an absolute Hermit; in a short time my Gravity which
is increased by my solitude will qualify me for an Archbishoprick; I
really begin to think that I should become a mitre amazingly well. You
tell me to write to you when I have nothing better to do; I am sure
writing to you, my Dear Sister, must ever form my Greatest pleasure,
but especially so, at this time. Your letters and those of one of my
Harrow friends form my only resources for driving away _dull care_.
For Godsake write me a letter as long as may fill _twenty sheets_ of
paper, recollect it is my only pleasure, if you won't Give me twenty
sheets, at least send me as long an epistle as you can and as soon as
possible; there will be time for me to receive one more Letter at
Southwell, and as soon as I Get to Harrow I will write to you. Excuse
my not writing more, my Dear Augusta, for I am sure you will be
sufficiently tired of reading this complaining narrative. God bless
you, my beloved Sister. Adieu.

I remain your sincere and affectionate

Friend and Brother,

BYRON.

Remember me kindly to Mrs. Harcourt.

[Footnote 1: General the Right Hon. Sir William Fawcett, K.B. (1728-1804), Colonel of the 3rd Dragoon Guards, Adjutant-General (1778-1797), and Governor of Chelsea Hospital (1796-1804), died at his house in Great George Street, Westminster, March 22, 1804. He had served during the rebellion of 1745, and distinguished himself during the Seven Years' War, where he was aide-de-camp first to General Elliot, and afterwards to the Marquis of Granby. An excellent linguist, he translated from the French, 'Reveries: or Memoirs upon the Art of War, by Field-Marshal Count Saxe' (1757); and from the German, 'Regulations for the Prussian Cavalry' (1757), 'Regulations for the Prussian Infantry', and 'The Prussian Tacticks' (1759). His military and diplomatic services were commemorated by a magnificent funeral on Saturday, March 31, 1804. The body was carried through the streets from Westminster to the chapel of Chelsea Hospital, the Prince Regent, the Duke of Clarence, and the Duke of Kent following the hearse, and eight general officers acting as pall-bearers.]

10.--To the Hon. Augusta Byron.

[At General Harcourt's, St. Leonard's Hill, Windsor, Berkshire.]

Burgage Manor, April 9th, 1804.

A thousand thanks, my dear and Beloved Augusta, for your affectionate
Letter, and so ready compliance with the request of a peevish and
fretful Brother; it acted as a cordial on my drooping spirits and for
a while dispelled the Gloom which envelopes me in this uncomfortable
place. You see what power your letters have over me, so I hope you
will be liberal in your epistolary consolation.

You will address your next letter to Harrow as I set out from
Southwell on Wednesday, and am sorry that I cannot contrive to be with
you, as I must resume my studies at Harrow directly. If I speak in
public at all, it will not be till the latter end of June or the
beginning of July. You are right in your conjecture for I feel not a
little nervous in the anticipation _of my Debut_ [1] as _an orator_.
By the bye, I do not dislike Harrow. I find _ways_ and _means_ to
amuse _myself very pleasantly_ there; the friend, whose correspondence
I find so amusing, is an old sporting companion of mine, whose
recitals of Shooting and Hunting expeditions are amusing to me as
having often been his companion in them, and I hope to be so still
oftener.

My mother Gives a _party_ to night at which the principal _Southwell
Belles_ will be present, with one of which, although I don't as yet
know whom I shall so far _honour, having never seen them_, I intend to
_fall violently_ in love; it will serve as an amusement _pour passer
le temps_ and it will at least have the charm of novelty to recommend
it, then you know in the course of a few weeks I shall be quite _au
désespoir_, shoot myself and Go out of the world with _éclat_, and my
History will furnish materials for a pretty little Romance which shall
be entitled and denominated the loves of Lord B. and the cruel and
Inconstant Sigismunda Cunegunda Bridgetina, etc., etc., Princess of
Terra Incognita.

Don't you think that I have a very good Knack for _novel writing_? I
have Just this minute been called away from writing to you by two
Gentlemen who have given me an invitation to go over to Screveton, a
village a few miles off, and spend a few days; but however I shall not
accept it, so you will continue to address your letters to Harrow as
usual. Write to me as soon as possible and give me a long letter.
Remember me to Mrs. Harcourt and all who enquire after me. Continue to
love me and believe me,

Your truly affectionate Brother and Friend,

BYRON.

P.S.--My Mother's love to you, Adieu.

[Footnote 1: Mrs. Byron, writing to Hanson, July 24, 1804, says,

"I was informed by a Gentleman yesterday that he had been at Harrow
and heard him speaking, and that he acquitted himself uncommonly
well."

Byron's name occurs in three of the Harrow speech-bills--July 5, 1804; June 6, 1805; and July 4, 1805. The three bills are printed below:--

HARROW SCHOOL PUBLIC SPEECHES.

1. JULY 5, 1804.

Erskine, Maj. Cæsar } Ex Sallustio. Sinclair Cato } Long C. Canuleius ad Pleb. Ex Livio. Molloy, Sr. The Country Box Lloyd. Lord Byron Latinus } Leeke Drances } Ex Virgilio. Peel, Sr. Turnus } Chaplin Henry the Fifth to his Shakespear. Soldiers Clayton Micispa ad Jugurtham Ex Sallustio. Rowley Germanicus moriens Ex Tacito. Grenside, Sr. General Wolfe to his Enfield. Soldiers Morant, Sr. Dido Ex Virgilio. Mr. Calthorpe, Sr. In Catilinam Ex Cicerone. Lloyd, Sr. The Ghost Shakespear. Mr. Powys Tiresias Ex Horatio. Sir Thomas Acland The Boil'd Pig Wesley. Leveson Gower Ad Antonium Ex Cicerone. Drury, Max. Earl of Strafford Hume.

2. JUNE 6, 1805.

There were no Speeches for May, 1805. Dr. Butler came to Harrow this year, after the Easter Holiday.--G.B. [1]

Doveton Canulcius Ex Livio. Farrer, Sr. Medea Ex Ovidio. Long Caractacus Mason. Rogers Manlius Ex Sallustio. Molloy Micipsa Ex Sallustio. Lord Byron Zanga Young. Drury, Sr. Memmius Ex Sallustio. Hoare Ajax } Ex Ovidio. East Ulysses } Leeke The Passions: an Ode Collins. Calvert, Sr. Galgacus Ex Tacito. Bazett Catilina ad Consp. Ex Sallustio. Franks, Sr. Antony Shakespeare. Wildman, Majr. Sat. ix., Lib. i. Ex Horatio. Lloyd, Sr. The Bard: an Ode Gray.

3. JULY 4, 1805.

Lyon Piso ad Milites Ex Tacito. East Cato Addison. Saumarez Drances } Ex Virgilio, _Æn._ xi Annesley Turnus } Calvert Lord Strafford's Hume. Defence Erskine, Sr. Achilles Ex Homero, _Il._ xvi Bazett York Shakespeare. Harrington Camillus Ex Livio. Leeke Ode to the Passions Collins. Sneyd Electra Ex Sophocle. Long Satan's Soliloquy Milton, _P.L._, b. iv Gibson Brutus } Ex Lucano. Drury, Sr. Cato } Lord Byron Lear Shakespeare. Hoare Otho ad Milites Ex Livio. Wildman Caractacus Mason. Franks Wolsey Shakespeare.

Of Byron's oratorical powers, Dr. Drury, Head-master of Harrow, formed a high opinion.

"The upper part of the school," he writes (see 'Life', p. 20), composed declamations, which, after a revisal by the tutors, were submitted to the master. To him the authors repeated them, that they might be improved in manner and action, before their public delivery. I certainly was much pleased with Lord Byron's attitude, gesture, and delivery, as well as with his composition. All who spoke on that day adhered, as usual, to the letter of their composition, as, in the earlier part of his delivery, did Lord Byron; but, to my surprise, he suddenly diverged from the written composition, with a boldness and rapidity sufficient to alarm me, lest he should fail in memory as to the conclusion. There was no failure; he came round to the close of his composition without discovering any impediment and irregularity on the whole. I questioned him why he had altered his declamation. He declared he had made no alteration, and did not know, in speaking, that he had deviated from it one letter. I believed him; and, from a knowledge of his temperament, am convinced that, fully impressed with the sense and substance of the subject, he was hurried on to expressions and colourings more striking than what his pen had expressed."

"My qualities," says Byron, in one of his note-books (quoted by Moore,
'Life', p. 20), "were much more oratorical and martial than poetical;
and Dr. Drury, my grand patron (our head-master), had a great notion
that I should turn out an orator, from my fluency, my turbulence, my
voice, my copiousness of declamation, and my action. I remember that
my first declamation astonished him into some unwonted (for he was
economical of such) and sudden compliments before the declaimers at
our first rehearsal."

For his subjects Byron chose passages expressive of vehement passion, such as Lear's address to the storm, or the speech of Zanga over the body of Alonzo, from Young's tragedy 'The Revenge'. Zanga's character and speech are famous in history from their application to Benjamin Franklin, in Wedderburn's speech before the Privy Council (January, 1774) on the Whately Letters (Stanhope's 'History of England', vol. v. p. 327, ed. 1853):--

"I forg'd the letter, and dispos'd the picture,
I hated, I despis'd, and I destroy."]

[Sub-Footnote A: Note, in Dr. G. Butler's writing, in the bound volume of Speech-Bills presented by him to the Harrow School Library.]

11.--To the Hon. Augusta Byron.

Burgage Manor, August 18th, 1804.

MY DEAREST AUGUSTA,--I seize this interval of my _amiable_ mother's
absence this afternoon, again to inform you, or rather to desire to be
informed by you, of what is going on. For my own part I can send
nothing to amuse you, excepting a repetition of my complaints against
my tormentor, whose _diabolical_ disposition (pardon me for staining
my paper with so harsh a word) seems to increase with age, and to
acquire new force with Time. The more I see of her the more my dislike
augments; nor can I so entirely conquer the appearance of it, as to
prevent her from perceiving my opinion; this, so far from calming the
Gale, blows it into a _hurricane_, which threatens to destroy
everything, till exhausted by its own violence, it is lulled into a
sullen torpor, which, after a short period, is again roused into fresh
and revived phrenzy, to me most terrible, and to every other Spectator
astonishing. She then declares that she plainly sees I hate her, that
I am leagued with her bitter enemies, viz. Yourself, L'd C[arlisle]
and Mr. H[anson], and, as I never Dissemble or contradict her, we are
all _honoured_ with a multiplicity of epithets, too _numerous_, and
some of them too _gross_, to be repeated. In this society, and in this
amusing and instructive manner, have I dragged out a weary fortnight,
and am condemned to pass another or three weeks as happily as the
former. No captive Negro, or Prisoner of war, ever looked forward to
their emancipation, and return to Liberty with more Joy, and with more
lingering expectation, than I do to my escape from this maternal
bondage, and this accursed place, which is the region of dullness
itself, and more stupid than the banks of Lethe, though it possesses
contrary qualities to the river of oblivion, as the detested scenes I
now witness, make me regret the happier ones already passed, and wish
their restoration.

Such Augusta is the happy life I now lead, such my _amusements_. I
wander about hating everything I behold, and if I remained here a few
months longer, I should become, what with _envy, spleen and all
uncharitableness_, a complete _misanthrope_, but notwithstanding this,

Believe me, Dearest Augusta, ever yours, etc., etc.,

BYRON.

12.--To Elizabeth Bridget Pigot. [1]

Burgage Manor, August 29, 1804.

I received the arms, my dear Miss Pigot, and am very much obliged to
you for the trouble you have taken. It is impossible I should have any
fault to find with them. The sight of the drawings gives me great
pleasure for a double reason,--in the first place, they will ornament
my books, in the next, they convince me that _you_ have not entirely
_forgot_ me. I am, however, sorry you do not return sooner--you have
already been gone an _age_. I perhaps may have taken my departure for
London before you come back; but, however, I will hope not. Do not
overlook my watch-riband and purse, as I wish to carry them with me.
Your note was given me by Harry, [2] at the play, whither I attended
Miss Leacroft, [3] and Dr. S----; and now I have sat down to answer it
before I go to bed. If I am at Southwell when you return,--and I
sincerely hope you will soon, for I very much regret your absence,--I
shall be happy to hear you sing my favourite, "The Maid of Lodi." [4]
My mother, together with myself, desires to be affectionately
remembered to Mrs. Pigot, and, believe me, my dear Miss Pigot, I
remain, your affectionate friend,

BYRON.

P.S.--If you think proper to send me any answer to this, I shall be
extremely happy to receive it. Adieu.

P.S.2d.--As you say you are a novice in the art of knitting, I hope it
don't give you too much trouble. Go on _slowly_, but surely. Once
more, adieu.

[Footnote 1: Elizabeth Bridget Pigot lived with her mother and two brothers on Southwell Green, in a house opposite Burgage Manor. Miss Pigot thus describes her first meeting with Byron ('Life', p. 32):--

"The first time I was introduced to him was at a party at his
mother's, when he was so shy that she was forced to send for him three
times before she could persuade him to come into the drawing-room, to
play with the young people at a round game. He was then a fat, bashful
boy, with his hair combed straight over his forehead, and extremely
like a miniature picture that his mother had painted by M. de
Chambruland. The next morning Mrs. Byron brought him to call at our
house, when he still continued shy and formal in his manner. The
conversation turned upon Cheltenham, where we had been staying, the
amusements there, the plays, etc.; and I mentioned that I had seen the
character of Gabriel Lackbrain very well performed. His mother getting
up to go, he accompanied her, making a formal bow, and I, in allusion
to the play, said, 'Good-by, Gaby.' His countenance lighted up, his
handsome mouth displayed a broad grin, all his shyness vanished, never
to return, and, upon his mother's saying, 'Come, Byron, are you
ready?'--no, she might go by herself, he would stay and talk a little
longer; and from that moment he used to come in and go out at all
hours, as it pleased him, and in our house considered himself
perfectly at home."

The character of "Gabriel Lackbrain," mentioned above, occurs in 'Life', a comedy by F. Reynolds. It was at Byron's suggestion that Moore, when preparing the 'Life', applied to Miss Pigot for letters. On January 22, 1828, he was taken to call on her and her mother by the Rev. John Becher.

"Their reception of me most cordial and flattering; made me sit in the
chair which Byron used to sit in, and remarked, as a singularity, that
this was the poor fellow's birthday; he would to-day have been forty.
On parting with Mrs. Pigot, a fine, intelligent old lady, who has been
bedridden for years, she kissed my hand most affectionately, and said
that, much as she had always admired me as a poet, it was as the
friend of Byron she valued and loved me ... Her affection, indeed, to
his memory is unbounded, and she seems unwilling to allow that he had
a single fault ... Miss Pigot in the evening, with his letters, which
interested me exceedingly; some written when he was quite a boy, and
the bad spelling and scrambling handwriting delightful; spelling,
indeed, was a very late accomplishment with him"

('Diary of Thomas Moore', vol. v. p. 249). (See "To Eliza," 'Poems', vol. i. pp.47-49; see also the lines "To M. S. G.," 'Poems', vol. i. pp. 79, 80; see for the lines which Byron wrote in her copy of Burns, 'Poems', vol. i. pp. 233, 234.)

Miss Pigot died at Southwell in 1866, her brother John (see letter of August 9, 1806, p. 100, note 3) in 1871. Her brother Henry, whom Byron used to call his grandson, died October 28, 1830, a captain in the 23rd Native Infantry in the service of the East India Company.

The following undated note (1810) from Mrs. Pigot to Mrs. Byron illustrates the enthusiastic interest with which the Pigots followed Byron's career:--

"Indeed, my dear Mrs. Byron, you have given me a very 'great treat' in
sending me 'English Bards' to look at; you know how very highly I
thought of the 'first' edition, and this is certainly much improved;
indeed, I do not think anybody but Lord Byron could (in these our
days) have produced such a work, for it has all the fire of ancient
genius. I have always been accustomed to tell you my thoughts most
sincerely, and I cannot say that I like that addition to the part
where 'Bowles' is mentioned; it wants that 'brilliant spirit' which
almost invariably accompanies Lord B.'s writings. Maurice, too, and
his granite weight of leaves, is in truth a heavy comparison. But I
turn with pleasure from these specks in the sun to notice 'Vice and
folly, Greville and Argyle;' it is 'most admirable': the 'same pen'
may 'equal', but I think it is not in the power of human abilities to
'exceed' it. As to Lord Carlisle, I think he well deserves the Note
Lord B. has put in; I am 'very much' pleased with it, and the little
word 'Amen' at the end, gives a point 'indescribably good'. The whole
of the conclusion is excellent, and the Postscript I think must
entertain everybody except 'Jeffrey'. I hope the poor Bear is well; I
wish you could make him understand that he is 'immortalized', for, if
'four-leg'd Bears' have any vanity, it would certainly delight him.
Walter Scott, too (I really do not mean to call him a Bear), will be
highly gratified: the compliment to him is very elegant: in short, I
look upon it as a most 'highly finished' work, and Lord Byron has
certainly taken the Palm from 'all our' Poets.... A good account of
yourself I assure you will always give the most sincere pleasure to my
dear Mrs. Byron's very affectionate friend, Margt. Pigot. Elizabeth
begs her compts."]

[Footnote 2: Henry Pigot. (See p. 33, note 1.)]

[Footnote 3: Miss Julia Leacroft, daughter of a neighbour, Mr. John Leacroft. (See lines "To Lesbia," 'Poems', vol. i. pp. 41-43.) The private theatricals in September, 1806 (see p. 117 [Letter 81], [Foot]note 3 [4]), were held at Mr. Leacroft's house. Later, Captain Leacroft expostulated with Byron on his attentions to his sister, and, according to Moore, threatened to call him out. Byron was ready to meet him; but afterwards, on consulting Becher, resolved never to go near the house again.--'Prose and Verse of Thomas Moore', edited by Richard Herne Shepherd (London, 1878), p. 420. (But see Letters 62, 63, 64.) ]

[Footnote 4: By Dibdin, set to music by Shield. (See Moore's 'Life', p. 33.) Byron's love for simple ballad music lasted throughout his life. As a boy at Harrow, he was famous for the vigour with which he sang "This Bottle's the Sun of our Table" at Mother Barnard's. He liked the Welsh air "Mary Anne," sung by Miss Chaworth; the songs in 'The Duenna'; "When Time who steals our Years away," which he sang with Miss Pigot; or "Robin Adair," in which he was accompanied by Miss Hanson on her harp.

"It is very odd," he said to Miss Pigot, "I sing much better to your
playing than to any one else's."

"That is," she answered, "because I play to your singing."

Moore ('Journal and Correspondence', vol. v. pp. 295, 296), speaking of "Byron's chanting method of repeating poetry," says that "it is the men who have the worst ears for music that 'sing' out poetry in this manner, having no nice perception of the difference there ought to be between animated reading and 'chant'." Rogers ('Table-Talk, etc.', pp. 224, 225) expresses the same opinion, when he says, "I can discover from a poet's versification whether or not he has an ear for music. To instance poets of the present day:--from Bowles's and Moore's, I should know that they had fine ears for music; from Southey's, Wordsworth's, and Byron's, that they had no ears for it."]

13.-To the Hon. Augusta Byron.

[Castle Howard, Malton, Yorkshire.]

Harrow-on-the-Hill, October 25th, 1804.

My dear Augusta,--In compliance with your wishes, as well as gratitude
for your affectionate letter, I proceed as soon as possible to answer
it; I am glad to hear that _any body_ gives a good account of me; but
from the quarter you mention, I should imagine it was exaggerated.
That you are unhappy, my dear Sister, makes me so also; were it in my
power to relieve your sorrows you would soon recover your spirits; as
it is, I sympathize better than you yourself expect. But really, after
all (pardon me my dear Sister), I feel a little inclined to laugh at
you, for love, in my humble opinion, is utter nonsense, a mere jargon
of compliments, romance, and deceit; now, for my part, had I fifty
mistresses, I should in the course of a fortnight, forget them all,
and, if by any chance I ever recollected one, should laugh at it as a
dream, and bless my stars, for delivering me from the hands of the
little mischievous Blind God. Can't you drive this Cousin [1] of ours
out of your pretty little head (for as to _hearts_ I think they are
out of the question), or if you are so far gone, why don't you give
old L'Harpagon [2] (I mean the General) the slip, and take a trip to
Scotland, you are now pretty near the Borders. Be sure to Remember me
to my formal Guardy Lord Carlisle, [3] whose magisterial presence I
have not been into for some years, nor have I any ambition to attain
so great an honour. As to your favourite Lady Gertrude, I don't
remember her; pray, is she handsome? I dare say she is, for although
they are a _disagreeable, formal, stiff_ Generation, yet they have by
no means plain _persons_, I remember Lady Cawdor was a sweet, pretty
woman; pray, does your sentimental Gertrude resemble her? I have heard
that the duchess of Rutland was handsome also, but we will say nothing
about her temper, as I hate Scandal.

Adieu, my pretty Sister, forgive my levity, write soon, and God bless
you.

I remain, your very affectionate Brother,

BYRON.

P.S.--I left my mother at Southwell, some time since, in a monstrous
pet with you for not writing. I am sorry to say the old lady and
myself don't agree like lambs in a meadow, but I believe it is all my
own fault, I am rather too fidgety, which my precise mama objects to,
we differ, then argue, and to my shame be it spoken fall out a
_little_, however after a storm comes a calm; what's become of our
aunt the amiable antiquated Sophia? [4] is she yet in the land of the
living, or does she sing psalms with the _Blessed_ in the other world.
Adieu. I am happy enough and Comfortable here. My friends are not
numerous, but select; among them I rank as the principal Lord
Delawarr, [5] who is very amiable and my particular friend; do you
know the family at all? Lady Delawarr is frequently in town, perhaps
you may have seen her; if she resembles her son she is the most
amiable woman in Europe. I have plenty of acquaintances, but I reckon
them as mere Blanks. Adieu, my dear Augusta.

[Footnote 1: Colonel George Leigh.]

[Footnote 2: General Leigh, father of the colonel. Both Harpagon and Cléante ('L'Avare') wish to marry Mariane; but the miser prefers his casket to the lady, who therefore marries Cléante. ]

[Footnote 3: Frederick Howard, fifth Earl of Carlisle (1748-1825), was, on his mother's side, connected with the Byron family. The Hon. Isabella Byron (1721-1795), daughter of the fourth Lord Byron, married, in 1742, Henry, fourth Earl of Carlisle. She subsequently, after the death of Lord Carlisle (1758), married, as her second husband, Sir William Musgrave. She was a woman of considerable ability, and apparently, in later life, of eccentric habits--a "recluse in pride and rags." She was the reputed writer of some published poetry, and of 'Maxims addressed to Young Ladies'. Some of these maxims might have been of use to her grand-nephew: "Habituate yourself to that way of life most agreeable to the person to whom you are united; be content in retirement, or with society, in town, or country." Her 'Answer' to Mrs. Greville's ode on 'Indifference' has more of the neck-or-nothing temper of the Byrons:--

"Is that your wish, to lose all sense
In dull lethargic ease,
And wrapt in cold indifference,
But half be pleased or please?
...
It never shall be my desire
To bear a heart unmov'd,
To feel by halves the gen'rous fire,
Or be but half belov'd.

Let me drink deep the dang'rous cup,
In hopes the prize to gain,
Nor tamely give the pleasure up
For fear to share the pain.

Give me, whatever I possess,
To know and feel it all;
When youth and love no more can bless,
Let death obey my call."

Lady Carlisle's son, Frederick, who was educated at Eton and Cambridge, succeeded his father as fifth Earl of Carlisle, in 1758, when he was ten years old. After leaving Cambridge, he started on a continental tour with two Eton friends--Lord FitzWilliam and Charles James Fox. A lively letter-writer, his correspondence with his friend George Selwyn, while in Italy, shows him to have been a young man of wit, feeling, and taste. It is curious to notice that, at Rome, he singles out, like his cousin in 'Childe Harold' or 'Manfred', as the most striking objects, the general aspect of the "marbled wilderness", the moonlight view of the amphitheatre, the Laocoon, the Belvedere Apollo, and the group of Niobe and her daughters. One other taste he shared with Byron--he was a lover of dogs, and "Rover" was his constant companion abroad.

Lord Carlisle returned to England in 1769. Like Fox, he was a prodigious dandy. They "once travelled from Paris to Lyons for the express purpose of buying waistcoats; and during the whole journey they talked of nothing else" ('Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers', pp. 73, 74). Already well known in London society, Carlisle was a close friend of George Selwyn, a familiar figure at White's and Brookes's, an inveterate gambler, an adorer of Lady Sarah Bunbury, who, as Lady Sarah Lennox, had won the heart of George III. The flirtation provoked from Lord Holland an adaptation of 'Lydia, dic per omnes':--

"Sally, Sally, don't deny,
But, for God's sake, tell me why
You have flirted so, to spoil
That once lively youth, Carlisle?
He used to mount while it was dark;
Now he lies in bed till noon,
And, you not meeting in the park,
Thinks that he gets up too soon," etc.

In 1770 Lord Carlisle married Lady Margaret Leveson Gower, a beautiful and charming woman. "Everybody," writes Lord Holland to George Selwyn (May 2, 1770), "says it is impossible not to admire Lady Carlisle." But matrimony did not at once steady his character. For the next few years--though in 1773 he published a volume of 'Poems'--his pursuits were mainly those of a young man of fashion, and he impoverished himself at the gaming-table. From 1777 onwards, however, his life took a more serious turn. In that year he became Treasurer of the Household, and was sworn a member of the Privy Council. In 1778 he was the chief of the three commissioners sent out by Lord North to negotiate with the United States. There he declined a challenge from Lafayette, provoked by reflections on the French court and nation, which he had issued with his fellow-commissioners in their political capacity. In 1779 he was nominated Lord-Lieutenant of Yorkshire, and First Lord of Trade and Plantations. He was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland from 1780 to 1782, and held the post of Lord Privy Seal in the Duke of Portland's administration of 1783. Till the outbreak of the French Revolutionary wars, he was an opponent of Pitt; but after 1792 he consistently supported the Government.

Carlisle was a collector of pictures, statuary, and works of art. He was also a writer of verse, tragedies, and pamphlets; but, in literature, his admirable letters are his best claim to be remembered. One of his two tragedies, 'The Father's Revenge' (1783), was praised by Walpole, and received the guarded approval of Dr. Johnson. His published poetry consisted of an ode on the death of Gray, verses on that of Lord Nelson, "Lines for the Monument of a favourite Spaniel," an address to Sir Joshua Reynolds, and translations from Dante. The first two poems provoked Richard Tickell to write the 'Wreath of Fashion' (1780). "The following lines," says Tickell, in his "Advertisement," were "occasioned by the Author's having lately studied, with infinite attention, several fashionable productions in the 'Sentimental' stile.... For example, A Noble Author has lately published his works, which consist of 'three' compositions: 'one' an Ode upon the death of Mr. Gray; the two others upon the death of his Lordship's 'Spaniel'."

"Here, placid 'Carlisle' breathes his gentle line,
Or haply, gen'rous 'Hare', re-echoes thine.
Soft flows the lay: as when, with tears, He paid
The last sad honours to his------Spaniel's shade!
And lo! he grasps the badge of wit, a wand;
He waves it thrice and 'Storer' is at hand."

His contemporaries seem to have thought that his poetry, weak though it was, was indebted to his Eton friends, "the Hare with many friends," and Antony Storer. The latter's name is linked with that of Carlisle in another satire, 'Pandolfo Attonito':--

"Fall'n though I am, I ne'er shall mourn,
Like the dark Peer on Storer's urn,"

where a note refers to "Antony Storer, formerly Member for Morpeth ('as some persons' near Carlisle and Castle Howard 'may possibly recollect'), a gentleman well known in the circles of fashion and polite literature." Carlisle's name occurs in many of the satires of the day on literary subjects. 'The Shade of Pope' (ii. 191, 192) says--

"Carlisle is lost with Gillies in surprize,
As Lysias charms soft Jersey's classic eyes;"

and in the 'Pursuits of Literature' (Dialogue ii. line 234), a note to the line--

"While lyric Carlisle purrs o'er love transformed,"

again associates his name with that of Lady Jersey.

In 1799 Lord Carlisle was persuaded by Hanson to become Byron's guardian, in order to facilitate legal proceedings for the recovery of the Rochdale property, illegally sold by William, fifth Lord Byron. He was introduced to his ward by Hanson, who took the boy to Grosvenor Place, to see his guardian and consult Dr. Baillie in July, 1799. He seemed anxious to befriend the boy; but Byron was eager, as Hanson notes, to leave the house. When Mrs. Byron, in 1800, was anxious to remove her son from Dr. Glennie's care, Carlisle exercised his authority, and forbade the schoolmaster to give him up to his mother. He probably, on this occasion, experienced Mrs. Byron's temper, for Augusta Byron, writing to Hanson (November 18, 1804), says that he dreaded "having any concern whatever with Mrs. Byron." Byron does not seem to have met his guardian again till January, 1805, when Augusta Byron writes to Hanson:

"I hear from Lady Gertrude Howard that Lord Carlisle was 'very much'
pleased with my brother, and I am sure, from what he said to me at
Castle Howard, is disposed to show him all the kindness and attention
in his power. I know you are so partial to Byron and so much
interested in all that concerns him, that you will rejoice almost as
much as I do that his acquaintance with Lord C. is renewed. In the
mean time it is a great comfort for me to think that he has spent his
Holydays so comfortably and so much to his wishes. You will easily
believe that he is a 'very great favourite of mine', and I may add the
more I see and hear of him, the more I 'must' love and esteem him."

It may be doubted whether Carlisle ever saw the dedication of 'Hours of Idleness'. Augusta Byron, in a letter to Hanson of February 7, 1807, says,

"I return you my Brother's poems with many Thanks. Mrs. B. has had the
attention to send me 2 copies. I like some of them very much: but you
will laugh when I tell you I have never had courage to shew them to
Lord Carlisle for fear of his disapproving others."

The years 1806-7, spent at Southwell, as his sister says, "in idleness and ill humour with the whole World," were not the most creditable of Byron's life, and Carlisle's efforts to make him return to Cambridge failed. It is, moreover, certain that in 1809 Carlisle was ill; it is also probable that at a time when the scandal of Mary Anne Clarke and the Duke of York threatened to come before the House of Lords, he was unwilling to connect himself in public with a cousin of whom he knew no good, and of whose political views he was ignorant. These causes may have combined to produce the coldly formal letter, in which he told Byron the course of procedure to be adopted in taking his seat in the House of Lords, and ignored the young man's wish that his cousin and guardian should introduce him. (For Byron's attack upon Carlisle, and his subsequent admission of having done him "some wrong," see 'English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers', lines 723-740; and 'Childe Harold', Canto III. stanzas xxix., xxx.)

It is possible that the "paralytic puling" may have been suggested by the "placid purring" of previous satirists. In March, 1814, his sister Augusta was trying hard to persuade Byron, as he notes in his Diary,

"to make it up with Carlisle. I have refused 'every' body else, but I
can't deny her anything, though I had as leif 'drink up Eisel--eat a
crocodile.'"

Lord Carlisle had three daughters: the eldest, Lady Caroline Isabella Howard, married, in 1789, John, first Lord Cawdor, and died in 1848; the second, Lady Elizabeth, married, in 1799, John Henry, fifth Duke of Rutland, and died in 1825; the third, Lady Gertrude, married, in 1806, William Sloane Stanley, of Paultons, Hants, and died in 1870.]

[Footnote 4: No "Aunt Sophia" appears in the pedigree; but his grandmother was Sophia Trevanion, who married, in 1748, the Hon. John Byron, afterwards Admiral Byron. Mrs. Byron knew Dr. Johnson well, and she and Miss Burney were the only two friends who, as Mrs. Piozzi (then Mrs. Thrale) thought, might regret her departure from Streatham in 1782 ('Life and Writings of Mrs. Piozzi', vol. i. p. 171). "Mrs. Byron, who really loves me," says Mrs. Piozzi ('ibid.', p. 125), "was disgusted at Miss Burney's carriage to me." In August, 1820, Mrs. Piozzi writes to a Miss Willoughby, to tell her

"what wonders Lord Byron is come home to do, for I see his arrival in
the paper. His grandmother was my intimate friend, a Cornish lady,
Sophia Trevanion, wife to the Admiral, 'pour ses péchés', and we
called her Mrs. B_i_ron always, after the French fashion"

('Life and Writings, etc.', vol. ii. pp. 456, 457)' Mrs. Byron died at Bath in 1790.]

[Footnote 5: Lady Delawarr, widow of John Richard, fourth Earl Delawarr, whom she married in 1783, died in 1826. Her only son, George John, fifth earl, succeeded his father in 1795. He went from Harrow to Brasenose College, Oxford; married, in 1813, Lady Elizabeth Sackville; was Lord Chamberlain 1858-9; and died in 1869. He was the "Euryalus" of "Childish Recollections" (see 'Poems', vol. i. p. 100; and lines "To George, Earl of Delawarr," 'ibid.', p. 126).]

14.--To the Hon. Augusta Byron.

Friday, November 2d, 1804.

This morning, my dear Augusta, I received your affectionate letter,
and it reached me at a time when I wanted consolation, not however of
your kind for I am not yet old enough or Goose enough to be in love;
no, my sorrows are of a different nature, though more calculated to
provoke risibility than excite compassion. You must know, Sister of
mine, that I am the most unlucky wight in Harrow, perhaps in
Christendom, and am no sooner out of one scrape than into another. And
to day, this very morning, I had a thundering Jobation from our Good
Doctor, [1] which deranged my _nervous system_, for at least five
minutes. But notwithstanding He and I now and then disagree, yet upon
the whole we are very good friends, for there is so much of the
Gentleman, so much mildness, and nothing of pedantry in his character,
that I cannot help liking him, and will remember his instructions with
gratitude as long as I live. He leaves Harrow soon, _apropos_, so do
I. This quitting will be a considerable loss to the school. He is the
best master we ever had, and at the same time respected and feared;
greatly will he be regretted by all who know him. You tell me you
don't know my friend L'd Delawarr; he is considerably younger than me,
but the most good tempered, amiable, clever fellow in the universe. To
all which he adds the quality (a good one in the eyes of women) of
being remarkably handsome, almost too much so for a boy. He is at
present very low in the school, not owing to his want of ability, but
to his years. I am nearly at the top of it; by the rules of our
Seminary he is under my power, but he is too goodnatured ever to
offend me, and I like him too well ever to exert my authority over
him. If ever you should meet, and chance to know him, take notice of
him on my account.

You say that you shall write to the Dowager Soon; her address is at
Southwell, _that_ I need hardly inform you. Now, Augusta, I am going
to tell you a secret, perhaps I shall appear undutiful to you, but,
believe me, my affection for you is founded on a more firm basis. My
mother has lately behaved to me in such an eccentric manner, that so
far from feeling the affection of a Son, it is with difficulty I can
restrain my dislike. Not that I can complain of want of liberality;
no, She always supplies me with as much money as I can spend, and more
than most boys hope for or desire. But with all this she is so hasty,
so impatient, that I dread the approach of the holidays, more than
most boys do their return from them. In former days she spoilt me; now
she is altered to the contrary; for the most trifling thing, she
upbraids me in a most outrageous manner, and all our disputes have
been lately heightened by my one with that object of my cordial,
deliberate detestation, Lord Grey de Ruthyn. She wishes me to explain
my reasons for disliking him, which I will never do; would I do it to
any one, be assured you, my dear Augusta, would be the first who would
know them. She also insists on my being reconciled to him, and once
she let drop such an odd expression that I was half inclined to
believe the dowager was in love with him. But I hope not, for he is
the most disagreeable person (in my opinion) that exists. He called
once during my last vacation; she threatened, stormed, begged me to
make it up, "he himself loved me, and wished it;" but my reason was so
excellent--that neither had effect, nor would I speak or stay in the
same room, till he took his departure. No doubt this appears odd; but
was my reason known, which it never will be if I can help it, I should
be justified in my conduct. Now if I am to be tormented with her and
him in this style, I cannot submit to it. You, Augusta, are the only
relation I have who treats me as a friend; if you too desert me, I
have nobody I can love but Delawarr. If it was not for his sake,
Harrow would be a desert, and I should dislike staying at it. You
desire me to burn your epistles; indeed I cannot do that, but I will
take care that They shall be invisible. If you burn any of mine, I
shall be _monstrous angry_; take care of them till we meet.

Delawarr [2] and myself are in a manner connected, for one of our
forefathers in Charles the 1st's time married into their family.
Hartington, [3] whom you enquire after, is on very good terms with me,
nothing more, he is of a soft milky disposition, and of a happy apathy
of temper which defies the softer emotions, and is insensible of ill
treatment; so much for him. Don't betray me to the Dowager. I should
like to know your Lady Gertrude, as you and her are so great Friends.
Adieu, my Sister, write. From

[Signature, etc., cut out.]

[Footnote 1: The Rev. Joseph Drury, D.D. (1750-1834), educated at Westminster and Trinity College, Cambridge, was appointed an Assistant-master at Harrow before he was one and twenty. He was Head-master from 1784 to 1805. In that year he retired, and till his death in 1834 lived at Cockwood, in Devonshire, where he devoted himself to farming. The following statement by Dr. Drury illustrates Byron's respect for his Head-master ('Life', p. 20):--

"After my retreat from Harrow, I received from him two very affectionate letters. In my occasional visits subsequently to London, when he had fascinated the public with his productions, I demanded of him, why, as in 'duty bound', he had sent none to me? 'Because,' said he, 'you are the only man I never wish to read them;' but in a few moments, he added, 'What do you think of the 'Corsair'?'"

Dr. Drury married Louisa Heath, sister of the Rev. Benjamin Heath, his predecessor in the Head-mastership. They had four children, all of whom have some connection with Byron's life. (1) Henry Joseph Drury (1778-1841), educated at Eton and King's College, Cambridge (Fellow), Assistant-master at Harrow School, married (December 20, 1808) Ann Caroline Tayler, and had a numerous family. Mrs. Drury's sister married the Rev. F. Hodgson (see page 195 [Letter 102], [Foot]note 1). (2) Benjamin Heath Drury (1782-1835), educated at Eton and King's College, Cambridge (Fellow), Assistant-master at Eton. (3) Charles Drury (1788-1869), educated at Harrow and Queen's College, Oxford (Fellow). (4) Louisa Heath Drury (1787-1873) married John Herman Merivale.

Dr. Drury's brother, Mark Drury, the Lower Master at Harrow, was the candidate whom Byron supported for the Head-mastership.]

[Footnote 2: Thomas, third Lord Delawarr, Captain-general of all the Colonies planted or to be planted in Virginia, died in 1618. His fourth daughter, Cecilie, widow of Sir Francis Bindlose, married Sir John Byron, created Lord Byron by Charles I. His fifth daughter, Lucy, married Sir Robert Byron, brother to Lord Byron. But the first Lord Byron left no heirs, and the title descended to his brother, Richard Byron, from whom the poet was descended.]

[Footnote 3: William Spencer, Marquis of Hartington (1790-1858), succeeded his father as sixth Duke of Devonshire in 1811, and died unmarried. His sister, Georgiana Dorothy, married, in 1801, Lord Carlisle's eldest son.]

15.--To the Hon. Augusta Byron.

Harrow, Saturday, 11th Novr, 1804.

I thought, my dear Augusta, [1] that your opinion of my _meek mamma_
would coincide with mine; Her temper is so variable, and, when
inflamed, so furious, that I dread our meeting; not but I dare say,
that I am troublesome enough, but I always endeavour to be as dutiful
as possible. She is so very strenuous, and so tormenting in her
entreaties and commands, with regard to my reconciliation, with that
detestable Lord G. [2] that I suppose she has a penchant for his
Lordship; but I am confident that he does not return it, for he rather
dislikes her than otherwise, at least as far as I can judge. But she
has an excellent opinion of her personal attractions, sinks her age a
good six years, avers that when I was born she was only eighteen, when
you, my dear Sister, know as well as I know that she was of age when
she married my father, and that I was not born for three years
afterwards. But vanity is the weakness of _your sex_,--and these are
mere foibles that I have related to you, and, provided she never
molested me, I should look upon them as follies very excusable in a
woman.

But I am now coming to what must shock you, as much as it does me,
when she has occasion to lecture me (not very seldom you will think no
doubt) she does not do it in a manner that commands respect, and in an
impressive style. No! did she do that, I should amend my faults with
pleasure, and dread to offend a kind though just mother. But she flies
into a fit of phrenzy, upbraids me as if I was the most undutiful
wretch in existence, rakes up the ashes of my _father_, abuses him,
says I shall be a true Byrrone, which is the worst epithet she can
invent. Am I to call this woman mother? Because by nature's law she
has authority over me, am I to be trampled upon in this manner? am I
to be goaded with insult, loaded with obloquy, and suffer my feelings
to be outraged on the most trivial occasions? I owe her respect as a
Son, But I renounce her as a Friend. What an example does she shew me!
I hope in God I shall never follow it. I have not told you all, nor
can I; I respect you as a female, nor, although I ought to confide in
you as a Sister, will I shock you with the repetition of Scenes, which
you may judge of by the Sample I have given you, and which to all but
you are buried in oblivion. Would they were so in my mind! I am afraid
they never will. And can I, my dear Sister, look up to this mother,
with that respect, that affection I ought? Am I to be eternally
subjected to her caprice? I hope not--; indeed a few short years will
emancipate me from the Shackles I now wear, and then perhaps she will
govern her passion better than at present.

You mistake me, if you think I dislike Lord Carlisle; I respect him,
and might like him did I know him better. For him too my mother has an
antipathy, why I know not. I am afraid he could be but of little use
to me, in separating me from her, which she would oppose with all her
might; but I dare say he would assist me if he could, so I take the
will for the Deed, and am obliged to him in exactly the same manner as
if he succeeded in his efforts.

I am in great hopes, that at Christmas I shall be with Mr. Hanson
during the vacation, I shall do all I can to avoid a visit to my
mother wherever she is. It is the first duty of a parent, to impress
precepts of obedience in their children, but her method is so violent,
so capricious, that the patience of Job, the versatility of a member
of the House of Commons could not support it. I revere Dr. Drury much
more than I do her, yet he is never violent, never outrageous: I dread
offending him, not however through fear, but the respect I bear him
makes me unhappy when I am under his displeasure. My mother's
precepts, never convey instruction, never fix upon my mind; to be sure
they are calculated, to inculcate obedience, so are chains, and
tortures, but though they may restrain for a time, the mind revolts
from such treatment. Not that Mrs. Byron ever injures my _sacred_
person. I am rather too old for that, but her words are of that rough
texture, which offend more than personal ill usage. "A talkative woman
is like an Adder's tongue," so says one of the prophets, but which I
can't tell, and very likely you don't wish to know, but he was a true
one whoever he was.

The postage of your letters, My dear Augusta, don't fall upon me; but
if they did, it would make no difference, for I am Generally in cash,
and should think the trifle I paid for your epistles the best laid out
I ever spent in my life. Write Soon. Remember me to Lord Carlisle,
and, believe me, I ever am

Your affectionate Brother and Friend,

BYRONE.

[Footnote 1: In consequence of this letter, Augusta Byron wrote as follows to Hanson, and Byron spent the Christmas holidays of 1804 with his solicitor:--

"Castle Howard, Nov. 18, 1804.

My Dear Sir,--I am afraid you will think I presume almost too much
upon the kind permission you have so often given me of applying to you
about my Brother's concerns. The reason that induces me now to do so
is his having lately written me several Letters containing the most
extraordinary accounts of his Mother's conduct towards him and
complaints of the uncomfortable Situation he is in during the Holidays
when with her. All this you will easily imagine has more _vexed_ than
_surprized_ me. I am quite unhappy about him, and wish I could in any
way remedy the grievances he confides to me. I wished, as the most
likely means of doing this, to mention the subject to Lord Carlisle,
who has always expressed the greatest interest about Byron and also
shewn me the greatest Kindness. Finding that he did _not object_ to
it, I yesterday had some conversation with Lord C. on the subject, and
it is partly by his advice and wishes that I trouble you with this
Letter. He authorized me to tell you that, if you would allow my
Brother to spend the next vacation with you (which _he_ seems
_strongly_ to wish), that it would put it into his power to see more
of him and shew him more attention than he has hitherto, being
withheld from doing so from the dread of having any concern whatever
with Mrs. Byron.