Chapter XII: Letter 102: on Francis Hodgson). Byron was himself a fair shot with a (2)

"The first 'count', as our technical language expresses it, relates to
the high pleasure I have received from the 'Pilgrimage of Childe
Harold', and from its precursors; the former, with all its classical
associations, some of which are lost on so poor a scholar as I am,
possesses the additional charm of vivid and animated description,
mingled with original sentiment; but besides this debt, which I owe
your Lordship in common with the rest of the reading public, I have to
acknowledge my particular thanks for your having distinguished by
praise, in the work which your Lordship rather dedicated in general to
satire, some of my own literary attempts. And this leads me to put
your Lordship right in the circumstances respecting the sale of
'Marmion', which had reached you in a distorted and misrepresented
form, and which, perhaps, I have some reason to complain, were given
to the public without more particular inquiry. The poem, my Lord, was
_not_ written upon contract for a sum of money--though it is too true
that it was sold and published in a very unfinished state (which I
have since regretted), to enable me to extricate myself from some
engagements which fell suddenly upon me by the unexpected misfortunes
of a very near relation. So that, to quote statute and precedent, I
really come under the case cited by Juvenal, though not quite in the
extremity of the classic author:

'Esurit, intactam Paridi nisi vendit Agaven.'

"And so much for a mistake, into which your Lordship might easily fall,
especially as I generally find it the easiest way of stopping
sentimental compliments on the beauty, etc., of certain poetry, and
the delights which the author must have taken in the composition, by
assigning the readiest reason that will cut the discourse short, upon
a subject where one must appear either conceited or affectedly rude
and cynical.

"As for my attachment to literature, I sacrificed for the pleasure of
pursuing it very fair chances of opulence and professional honours, at
a time of life when I fully knew their value; and I am not ashamed to
say, that in deriving advantages in compensation from the partial
favour of the public, I have added some comforts and elegancies to a
bare independence. I am sure your Lordship's good sense will easily
put this unimportant egotism to the right account, for--though I do
not know the motive would make me enter into controversy with a fair
or an 'unfair' literary critic--I may be well excused for a wish
to clear my personal character from any tinge of mercenary or sordid
feeling in the eyes of a contemporary of genius. Your Lordship will
likewise permit me to add that you would have escaped the trouble of
this explanation, had I not understood that the satire alluded to had
been suppressed, not to be reprinted. For in removing a prejudice on
your Lordship's own mind, I had no intention of making any appeal by
or through you to the public, since my own habits of life have
rendered my defence as to avarice or rapacity rather too easy.

"Leaving this foolish matter where it lies, I have to request your
Lordship's acceptance of my best thanks for the flattering
communication which you took the trouble to make Mr. Murray on my
behalf, and which could not fail to give me the gratification which I
am sure you intended. I dare say our worthy bibliopolist overcoloured
his report of your Lordship's conversation with the Prince Regent, but
I owe my thanks to him nevertheless, for the excuse he has given me
for intruding these pages on your Lordship. Wishing you health,
spirit, and perseverance, to continue your pilgrimage through the
interesting countries which you have still to pass with 'Childe
Harold', I have the honour to be, my Lord,

"Your Lordship's obedient servant,

"WALTER SCOTT.

"P.S.--Will your Lordship permit me a verbal criticism on 'Childe
Harold', were it only to show I have read his Pilgrimage with
attention? 'Nuestra Dama de la Pena' means, I suspect, not our Lady of
Crime or Punishment, but our Lady of the Cliff; the difference is, I
believe, merely in the accentuation of 'pena'."

To Scott Byron replied with the letter given in the text. Scott's answer, which followed in due course, will be found in Appendix V.

The Prince Regent, it may be added, showed his appreciation of Scott's poetry by offering him, on the death of Pye, the post of poet laureate. Scott refused, on the ground, apparently, that the office had been made ridiculous by the previous holder.

"At the time when Scott and Byron were the two 'lions' of London,
Hookham Frere observed, 'Great poets formerly (Homer and Milton) were
blind; now they are lame'"

('Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers', P. 194).]

[Footnote 2: The Turkish ambassador and suite were at the ball.]

[Footnote 3: Byron had already written his "Stanzas to a Lady Weeping," suggested by the rumour that Princess Charlotte had burst into tears, on being told that there would be no change of Ministry when the Prince of Wales assumed the Regency. They appeared anonymously in the 'Morning Chronicle' for March 7, 1812, under the title of a "Sympathetic 'Address' to a Young Lady." They were published, as Byron's work, with 'The Corsair', in February, 1814. The verses rather betray the influence of Moore than express his own feelings at the time. In 'Don Juan' (Canto XII. stanza lxxxiv.) he thus speaks of the Regent:

"There, too, he saw (whate'er he may be now)
A Prince, the prince of princes at the time,
With fascination in his very bow,
And full of promise, as the spring of prime.
Though royalty was written on his brow,
He had 'then' the grace, too, rare in every clime,
Of being, without alloy of fop or beau,
A finish'd gentleman from top to toe."

Dallas found him, shortly after his introduction to the prince, "in a full-dress court suit of clothes, with his fine black hair in powder," prepared to attend a levee. But the levee was put off, and the subsequent avowal of the authorship of the stanzas rendered it impossible for him to go ('Recollections', p. 234).]

* * * * *

242.--To Lady Caroline Lamb.

[August, 1812?]

MY DEAREST CAROLINE, [1]--If tears which you saw and know I am not apt to shed,--if the agitation in which I parted from you,--agitation which you must have perceived through the _whole_ of this most _nervous_ affair, did not commence until the moment of leaving you approached,--if all I have said and done, and am still but too ready to say and do, have not sufficiently proved what my real feelings are, and must ever be towards you, my love, I have no other proof to offer. God knows, I wish you happy, and when I quit you, or rather you, from a sense of duty to your husband and mother, quit me, you shall acknowledge the truth of what I again promise and vow, that no other in word or deed, shall ever hold the place in my affections, which is, and shall be, most sacred to you, till I am nothing. I never knew till _that moment_ the _madness_ of my dearest and most beloved friend; I cannot express myself; this is no time for words, but I shall have a pride, a melancholy pleasure, in suffering what you yourself can scarcely conceive, for you do not know me. I am about to go out with a heavy heart, because my appearing this evening will stop any absurd story which the event of the day might give rise to. Do you think _now_ I am _cold_ and _stern_ and _artful_? Will even _others_ think so? Will your _mother_ ever--that mother to whom we must indeed sacrifice much, more, much more on my part than she shall ever know or can imagine? "Promise not to love you!" ah, Caroline, it is past promising. But I shall attribute all concessions to the proper motive, and never cease to feel all that you have already witnessed, and more than can ever be known but to my own heart,--perhaps to yours. May God protect, forgive, and bless you. Ever, and even more than ever,

Your most attached,

BYRON.

P.S.--These taunts which have driven you to this, my dearest Caroline, were it not for your mother and the kindness of your connections, is there anything on earth or heaven that would have made me so happy as to have made you mine long ago? and not less _now_ than _then_, but _more_ than ever at this time. You know I would with pleasure give up all here and all beyond the grave for you, and in refraining from this, must my motives be misunderstood? I care not who knows this, what use is made of it,--it is to _you_ and to _you_ only that they are _yourself (sic)_. I was and am yours freely and most entirely, to obey, to honour, love,--and fly with you when, where, and how you yourself _might_ and _may_ determine.

[Footnote 1: Lady Caroline's infatuation for Byron, expressed in various ways--once (in July, 1813) by a self-inflicted stab with a table-knife, or a broken glass--became the talk of society.

"Your little friend, Caro William," writes the Duchess of Devonshire,
May 4, 1812, "as usual, is doing all sorts of imprudent things for him
and with him."

Again she writes, six days later, of Byron:

"The ladies, I hear, spoil him, and the gentlemen are jealous of him.
He is going back to Naxos, and then the husbands may sleep in peace. I
should not be surprised if Caro William were to go with him, she is so
wild and imprudent"

(The 'Two Duchesses', pp. 362, 364). But Lady Caroline's extravagant adoration wearied Byron, who felt that it made him ridiculous; Lady Melbourne gave him sound advice about her daughter-in-law; and he was growing attached to Miss Milbanke, and, when rejected by her, at first to Lady Oxford, and later to Lady Frances Wedderburn Webster. When Lady Bessborough endeavoured to persuade her daughter to leave London for Ireland, Lady Caroline is said to have forced herself into Byron's room, and implored him to fly with her. Byron refused, conducted her back to Melbourne House, wrote her the letter printed above, and, as she herself admits, kept the secret. In December, 1812, Lady Caroline burned Byron in effigy, with "his book, ring, and chain," at Brocket Hall. The lines which she wrote for the ceremony are preserved in Mrs. Leigh's handwriting, and given in Appendix III., 2.

From Ireland Lady Caroline continued the siege, threatening to follow him into Herefordshire, demanding interviews, and writing about him to Lady Oxford. At length Byron sent her the letter, probably in November, 1812, which she professes to publish in 'Glenarvon' (vol. iii. chap. ix.). The words are acknowledged by Byron to have formed part at least of the real document, which is here quoted as printed in the novel:

"Mortanville Priory, November the 9th.

"LADY AVONDALE,--I am no longer your lover; and since you oblige me to
confess it, by this truly unfeminine persecution, ... learn, that I am
attached to another; whose name it would, of course, be dishonourable
to mention. I shall ever remember with gratitude the many instances I
have received of the predilection you have shown in my favour. I shall
ever continue your friend, if your ladyship will permit me so to style
myself; and, as a first proof of my regard, I offer you this advice,
correct your vanity, which is ridiculous; exert your absurd caprices
upon others; and leave me in peace.

"Your most obedient servant,

"GLENARVON."

The first effect of this letter and her unrequited passion was, as she told Lady Morgan, to deprive her temporarily of reason, and it may be added that, when she was a child, her grandmother was so alarmed by her eccentricities as to consult a doctor on the state of her mind. The second effect was to render her temper so ungovernable that William Lamb decided on a separation. All preliminaries were arranged; the solicitor arrived with the documents; but the old charm reasserted itself, and she was found seated by her husband, "feeding him with tiny scraps of transparent bread and butter" (Torrens, 'Memoirs of Lord Melbourne', vol. i. p. 112). The separation did not take place till 1825.

Throughout 1812-14 Lady Caroline continued to write to Byron, at first asking for interviews. Two of her last letters to him, written apparently on the eve of his leaving England, in 1816, are worth printing, though they increase the mystery of 'Glenarvon'. (See Appendix III., 4 and 5.)

In Isaac Nathan's 'Fugitive Pieces' (1829), a section is devoted to "Poetical Effusions, Letters, Anecdotes, and Recollections of Lady Caroline Lamb."

Lady Caroline wrote three novels: 'Glenarvon' (1816); 'Graham Hamilton' (1822); and 'Ada Reis; a Tale' (1823). 'Glenarvon', apart from its biographical interest, is unreadable.

"I do not know," writes C. Lemon to Lady H. Frampton ('Journal of Mary
Frampton', pp. 286, 287), "all the characters in 'Glenarvon', but I
will tell you all I do know. I am not surprised at your being struck
with a few detached passages; but before you have read one volume, I
think you will doubt at which end of the book you began. There is no
connection between any two ideas in the book, and it seems to me to
have been written as the sages of Laputa composed their works.
'Glenarvon' is Lord Byron; 'Lady Augusta,' the late Duchess of
Devonshire; 'Lady Mandeville'--I think it is Lady Mandeville, but the
lady who dictated Glearvon's farewell letter to Calantha--is Lady
Oxford. This letter she really dictated to Lord Byron to send to Lady
Caroline Lamb, and is now very much offended that she has treated the
matter so lightly as to introduce it into her book. The best character
in it is the 'Princess of Madagascar' (Lady Holland), with all her
Reviewers about her. The young Duke of Devonshire is in the book, but
I forget under what name. I need not say that the heroine is Lady
Caroline's own self."

In July, 1824, she was out riding, when she accidentally met Byron's funeral on its way to Newstead. "I am sure," she wrote to Murray, July 13, 1824, "I am very sorry I ever said one unkind word against him." Her mind never recovered the shock, and she died in January, 1828, in the presence of her husband, at Melbourne House. (See also Appendix III., 6.)]

* * * * *

243.--To John Murray.

High Street, Cheltenham, Sept. 5, 1812.

DEAR SIR,--Pray have the goodness to send those despatches, and a No. of the _E.R._ with the rest. I hope you have written to Mr. Thompson, thanked him in my name for his present, and told him that I shall be truly happy to comply with his request.--How do you go on? and when is the graven image, "with _bays and wicked rhyme upon't_," to grace, or disgrace, some of our tardy editions?

Send me "_Rokeby_" [1] who the deuce is he?--no matter, he has good connections, and will be well introduced. I thank you for your inquiries: I am so so, but my thermometer is sadly below the poetical point. What will you give _me_ or _mine_ for a poem [2] of six cantos, (_when complete--no_ rhyme, _no_ recompense,) as like the last two as I can make them? I have some ideas which one day may be embodied, and till winter I shall have much leisure.

Believe me, yours very sincerely,

BYRON.

P. S.--My last question is in the true style of Grub Street; but, like _Jeremy Diddler_ [3], I only "ask for information."--Send me Adair on _Diet and Regimen_, just republished by Ridgway [4].

[Footnote 1: 'Rokeby', completed December 31, 1812, was published in the following year, with a dedication to John Morritt, to whom Rokeby belonged. It was, as Scott admits in the Preface to the edition of 1830, comparatively a failure. In the popularity of Byron he finds the chief cause of the small success which his poem obtained.

"To have kept his ground at the crisis when 'Rokeby' appeared," he
writes, "its author ought to have put forth his utmost strength, and
to have possessed all his original advantages, for a mighty and
unexpected rival was advancing on the stage--a rival not in poetical
powers only, but in that art of attracting popularity, in which the
present writer had hitherto preceded better men than himself. The
reader will easily see that Byron is here meant, who, after a little
velitation of no great promise, now appeared as a serious candidate,
in the first two cantos of 'Childe Harold'."

On this rivalry Byron wrote the passage in his Diary for November 17, 1813. A further cause for the cold reception of 'Rokeby' was its inferiority both to the 'Lay' and to 'Marmion'. In Letter vii. of the 'Twopenny Post-bag', Moore writes thus of 'Rokeby'

"Should you feel any touch of 'poetical' glow,
We've a Scheme to suggest--Mr. Sc--tt, you must know,
(Who, we're sorry to say it, now works for the 'Row')
Having quitted the Borders, to seek new renown,
Is coming by long Quarto stages, to Town;
And beginning with Rokeby (the job's sure to pay)
Means to 'do' all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way.
Now the Scheme is (though none of our hackneys can beat him)
To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to 'meet' him;
Who, by means of quick proofs--no revises--long coaches--
May do a few Villas before Sc--tt approaches--
Indeed, if our Pegasus be not curst shabby,
He'll reach, without found'ring, at least Woburn Abbey."]

[Footnote 2: 'The Giaour', published in 1813, for which Murray paid, not Byron, but Dallas, 500 guineas.]

[Footnote 3: Kenney's 'Raising the Wind', act i. sc. 1:

"'Diddler'. O Sam, you haven't got such a thing as tenpence about
you, have you?

"'Sam'. Yes. 'And I mean to keep it about me, you see'.

"'Diddler'. Oh, aye, certainly. I only asked for information."]

[Footnote 4: James MacKittrick (1728-1802), who assumed the name of Adair, published, in 1804, 'An Essay on Diet and Regimen, as indispensable to the Recovery and Preservation of Firm Health, especially to Indolent, Studious, Delicate and Invalid; with appropriate cases'.]

* * * * *

244.--To Lord Holland.

Cheltenham, September 10, 1812.

My Dear Lord,--The lines which I sketched off on your hint are still, or rather _were_, in an unfinished state, for I have just committed them to a flame more decisive than that of Drury [1].

Under all circumstances, I should hardly wish a contest with Philodrama--Philo-Drury--Asbestos, H----, and all the anonymes and synonymes of Committee candidates. Seriously, I think you have a chance of something much better; for prologuising is not my forte, and, at all events, either my pride or my modesty won't let me incur the hazard of having my rhymes buried in next month's Magazine, under "Essays on the Murder of Mr. Perceval." and "Cures for the Bite of a Mad Dog," as poor Goldsmith complained of the fate of far superior performances [2].

I am still sufficiently interested to wish to know the successful candidate; and, amongst so many, I have no doubt some will be excellent, particularly in an age when writing verse is the easiest of all attainments.

I cannot answer your intelligence with the "like comfort," unless, as you are deeply theatrical, you may wish to hear of Mr. Betty [3], whose acting is, I fear, utterly inadequate to the London engagement into which the managers of Covent Garden have lately entered. His figure is fat, his features flat, his voice unmanageable, his action ungraceful, and, as Diggory [4] says, "I defy him to extort that damned muffin face of his into madness." I was very sorry to see him in the character of the "Elephant on the slack rope;" for, when I last saw him, I was in raptures with his performance. But then I was sixteen--an age to which all London condescended to subside. After all, much better judges have admired, and may again; but I venture to "prognosticate a prophecy" (see the 'Courier') that he will not succeed.

So, poor dear Rogers has stuck fast on "the brow of the mighty Helvellyn" [5]--I hope not for ever. My best respects to Lady H.:--her departure, with that of my other friends, was a sad event for me, now reduced to a state of the most cynical solitude.

"By the waters of Cheltenham I sat down and _drank_, when I
remembered thee, oh Georgiana Cottage! As for our _harps_, we
hanged them up upon the willows that grew thereby. Then they said,
Sing us a song of Drury Lane," etc.;

--but I am dumb and dreary as the Israelites. The waters have disordered me to my heart's content--you _were_ right, as you always are.

Believe me, ever your obliged and affectionate servant,

BYRON.

[Footnote 1: Drury Lane Theatre was reopened, after the fire of February 24, 1809, on Saturday, October 10, 1812. In the previous August the following advertisement was issued:

"'Rebuilding of Drury-Lane Theatre.'

"The Committee are desirous of promoting a fair and free competition
for an Address, to be spoken upon the opening of the Theatre, which
will take place on the 10th of October next: They have therefore
thought fit to announce to the Public, that they will be glad to
receive any such Compositions, addressed to their Secretary at the
Treasury Office in Drury Lane, on or before the 10th of September,
sealed up, with a distinguishing word, number, or motto, on the cover,
corresponding with the inscription, on a separate sealed paper,
containing the name of the Author, which will not be opened, unless
containing the name of the successful Candidate. Theatre Royal,
Drury-Lane, August 13, 1812.

"Owing to an accidental delay in the publication of the above
Advertisement, the Committee have thought proper to extend the time
for receiving Addresses, from the last day of August to the 10th of
September."

Byron, on the suggestion of Lord Holland, intended to send in an 'Address' in competition with other similar productions. He afterwards changed his mind, and refused to compete. After all the 'Addresses' had been received and rejected, the Committee applied to him to write an 'Address'. This he consented to do.]

[Footnote 2:

"The public were more importantly employed, than to observe the easy
simplicity of my style, or the harmony of my periods. Sheet after
sheet was thrown off to oblivion. My essays were buried among the
essays upon liberty, Eastern tales, and cures for the bite of a mad
dog."

'Vicar of Wakefield', chap. xx.]

[Footnote 3: See 'Letters', vol. i. p. 63, 'note' 2.[Footnote 2 of