TO MISS ----.

"June 11. 1807.

"Dear Queen Bess,

"_Savage_ ought to be _immortal_:--though not a _thorough-bred bull-dog_, he is the finest puppy I ever _saw_, and will answer much better; in his great and manifold kindness he has already bitten my fingers, and disturbed the _gravity_ of old Boatswain, who is _grievously discomposed_. I wish to be informed what he _costs_, his _expenses_, &c. &c., that I may indemnify Mr. G----. My thanks are _all_ I can give for the trouble he has taken, make a _long speech_, and conclude it with 1 2 3 4 5 6 7.[71] I am out of practice, so _deputize_ you as legate,--_amba.s.sador_ would not do in a matter concerning the _Pope_, which I presume this must, as the _whole_ turns upon a _Bull_.

"Yours,

"BYRON.

"P.S. I write in bed."

LETTER 13.

TO MISS ----.

"Cambridge, June 30. 1807.

"'Better late than never, Pal,'" is a saying of which you know the origin, and as it is applicable on the present occasion, you will excuse its conspicuous place in the front of my epistle. I am almost superannuated here. My old friends (with the exception of a very few) all departed, and I am preparing to follow them, but remain till Monday to be present at three _Oratorios_, two _Concerts_, a _Fair_, and a Ball. I find I am not only _thinner_ but _taller_ by an inch since my last visit. I was obliged to tell every body my _name_, n.o.body having the least recollection of my _visage_, or person. Even the hero of _my Cornelian_ (who is now sitting _vis-a-vis_, reading a volume of my _Poetics_) pa.s.sed me in Trinity walks without recognising me in the least, and was thunderstruck at the alteration which had taken place in my countenance, &c. &c. Some say I look _better_, others _worse_, but all agree I am _thinner_--more I do not require. I have lost two pounds in my weight since I left your _cursed_, _detestable_, and _abhorred_ abode of _scandal_,[72] where, excepting yourself and John Becher, I care not if the whole race were consigned to the _Pit of Acheron_, which I would visit in person rather than contaminate my _sandals_ with the polluted dust of Southwell.

_Seriously_, unless obliged by the _emptiness_ of my purse to revisit Mrs. B., you will see me no more.

"On Monday I depart for London. I quit Cambridge with little regret, because our _set_ are _vanished_, and my _musical protege_ before mentioned has left the choir, and is stationed in a mercantile house of considerable eminence in the metropolis. You may have heard me observe he is exactly to an hour two years younger than myself. I found him grown considerably, and, as you will suppose, very glad to see his former _Patron_. He is nearly my height, very _thin_, very fair complexion, dark eyes, and light locks. My opinion of his mind you already know;--I hope I shall never have occasion to change it.

Every body here conceives me to be an _invalid_. The University at present is very gay from the fetes of divers kinds. I supped out last night, but eat (or ate) nothing, sipped a bottle of claret, went to bed at two, and rose at eight. I have commenced early rising, and find it agrees with me. The Masters and the Fellows all very _polite_, but look a little _askance_--don't much admire _lampoons_--truth always disagreeable.

"Write, and tell me how the inhabitants of your _Menagerie_ go _on_, and if my publication goes _off_ well: do the quadrupeds _growl_?

Apropos, my bull-dog is deceased--'Flesh both of cur and man is gra.s.s.' Address your answer to Cambridge. If I am gone, it will be forwarded. Sad news just arrived--Russians beat--a bad set, eat nothing but _oil_, consequently must melt before a _hard fire_. I get awkward in my academic habiliments for want of practice. Got up in a window to hear the oratorio at St. Mary's, popped down in the middle of the _Messiah_, tore a _woeful_ rent in the back of my best black silk gown, and damaged an egregious pair of breeches. Mem.--never tumbled from a church window during service. Adieu, dear ----! do not remember me to any body:--to _forget_ and be forgotten by the people of Southwell is all I aspire to."

LETTER 14.

TO MISS ----.

"Trin. Coll. Camb. July 5. 1807.

"Since my last letter I have determined to reside _another year_ at Granta, as my rooms, &c. &c. are finished in great style, several old friends come up again, and many new acquaintances made; consequently my inclination leads me forward, and I shall return to college in October if still _alive_. My life here has been one continued routine of dissipation--out at different places every day, engaged to more dinners, &c. &c. than my _stay_ would permit me to fulfil. At this moment I write with a bottle of claret in my _head_ and _tears_ in my _eyes_; for I have just parted with my '_Cornelian_,' who spent the evening with me. As it was our last interview, I postponed my engagement to devote the hours of the _Sabbath_ to friendship:--Edleston and I have separated for the present, and my mind is a chaos of hope and sorrow. To-morrow I set out for London: you will address your answer to 'Gordon's Hotel, Albemarle Street,' where I _sojourn_ during my visit to the metropolis.

"I rejoice to hear you are interested in my _protege_; he has been my _almost constant_ a.s.sociate since October, 1805, when I entered Trinity College. His _voice_ first attracted my attention, his _countenance_ fixed it, and his _manners_ attached me to him for ever.

He departs for a _mercantile house_ in _town_ in October, and we shall probably not meet till the expiration of my minority, when I shall leave to his decision either entering as a _partner_ through my interest, or residing with me altogether. Of course he would in his present frame of mind prefer the _latter_, but he may alter his opinion previous to that period;--however, he shall have his choice. I certainly love him more than any human being, and neither time nor distance have had the least effect on my (in general) changeable disposition. In short, we shall put _Lady E. Butler_ and _Miss Ponsonby_ to the blush, _Pylades_ and _Orestes_ out of countenance, and want nothing but a catastrophe like _Nisus_ and _Euryalus_, to give _Jonathan_ and _David_ the 'go by.' He certainly is perhaps more attached to _me_ than even I am in return. During the whole of my residence at Cambridge we met every day, summer and winter, without pa.s.sing _one_ tiresome moment, and separated each time with increasing reluctance. I hope you will one day see us together, he is the only being I esteem, though I _like_ many.[73]

"The Marquis of Tavistock was down the other day; I supped with him at his tutor's--entirely a Whig party. The opposition muster strong here now, and Lord Hartington, the Duke of Leinster, &c. &c. are to join us in October, so every thing will be _splendid_. The _music_ is all over at present. Met with another '_accidency_'--upset a b.u.t.ter-boat in the lap of a lady--look'd very _blue_--_spectators_ grinned--'curse 'em!' Apropos, sorry to say, been _drunk_ every day, and not quite _sober_ yet--however, touch no meat, nothing but fish, soup, and vegetables, consequently it does me no harm--sad dogs all the _Cantabs_. Mem.--_we mean_ to reform next January. This place is a _monotony of endless variety_--like it--hate Southwell. Has Ridge sold well? or do the ancients demur? What ladies have bought?

"Saw a girl at St. Mary's the image of Anne ----, thought it was her--all in the wrong--the lady stared, so did I--I _blushed_, so did _not_ the lady,--sad thing--wish women had _more modesty_. Talking of women, puts me in mind of my terrier f.a.n.n.y--how is she? Got a headache, must go to bed, up early in the morning to travel. My _protege_ breakfasts with me; parting spoils my appet.i.te--excepting from Southwell. Mem. _I hate Southwell._

Yours, &c."

LETTER 15.

TO MISS ----.

"Gordon's Hotel, July 13, 1807.

"You write most excellent epistles--a fig for other correspondents, with their nonsensical apologies for _'knowing nought about it_,'--you send me a delightful budget. I am here in a perpetual vortex of dissipation (very pleasant for all that), and, strange to tell, I get thinner, being now below eleven stone considerably. Stay in town a _month_, perhaps six weeks, trip into Ess.e.x, and then, as a favour, _irradiate_ Southwell for three days with the light of my countenance; but nothing shall ever make me _reside_ there again. I positively return to Cambridge in October; we are to be uncommonly gay, or in truth I should _cut_ the University. An extraordinary circ.u.mstance occurred to me at Cambridge; a girl so very like ---- made her appearance, that nothing but the most _minute inspection_ could have undeceived me. I wish I had asked if _she_ had ever been at H----.

"What the devil would Ridge have? is not fifty in a fortnight, before the advertis.e.m.e.nts, a sufficient sale? I hear many of the London booksellers have them, and Crosby has sent copies to the princ.i.p.al watering places. Are they liked or not in Southwell?... I wish Boatswain had _swallowed_ Damon! How is Bran? by the immortal G.o.ds, Bran ought to be a _Count_ of the _Holy Roman Empire_.

"The intelligence of London cannot be interesting to you, who have rusticated all your life--the annals of routs, riots, b.a.l.l.s and boxing-matches, cards and crim. cons., parliamentary discussion, political details, masquerades, mechanics, Argyle Street Inst.i.tution and aquatic races, love and lotteries, Brookes's and Buonaparte, opera-singers and oratorios, wine, women, wax-work, and weather-c.o.c.ks, can't accord with your _insulated_ ideas of decorum and other _silly expressions_ not inserted in _our vocabulary_.

"Oh! Southwell, Southwell, how I rejoice to have left thee, and how I curse the heavy hours I dragged along, for so many months, among the Mohawks who inhabit your kraals!--However, one thing I do not regret, which is having _pared off_ a sufficient quant.i.ty of flesh to enable me to slip into 'an eel skin,' and vie with the _slim_ beaux of modern times; though I am sorry to say, it seems to be the mode amongst _gentlemen_ to grow _fat_, and I am told I am at least fourteen pound below the fashion. However, I _decrease_ instead of enlarging, which is extraordinary, as _violent_ exercise in London is impracticable; but I attribute the phenomenon to our _evening squeezes_ at public and private parties. I heard from Ridge this morning (the 14th, my letter was begun yesterday): he says the poems go on as well as can be wished; the seventy-five sent to town are circulated, and a demand for fifty more complied with, the day he dated his epistle, though the advertis.e.m.e.nts are not yet half published. Adieu.

"P.S. Lord Carlisle, on receiving my poems, sent, before he opened the book, a tolerably handsome letter:--I have not heard from him since.

His opinions I neither know nor care about: if he is the least insolent, I shall enrol him with _Butler_[74] and the other worthies.

He is in Yorkshire, poor man! and very ill! He said he had not had time to read the contents, but thought it necessary to acknowledge the receipt of the volume immediately. Perhaps the Earl '_bears no brother near the throne_,'--_if so_, I will make his _sceptre_ totter _in his hands_.--Adieu!"

LETTER 16.

TO MISS ----.

"August 2. 1807.

"London begins to disgorge its contents--town is empty--consequently I can scribble at leisure, as occupations are less numerous. In a fortnight I shall depart to fulfil a country engagement; but expect two epistles from you previous to that period. Ridge does not proceed rapidly in Notts--very possible. In town things wear a more promising aspect, and a man whose works are praised by _reviewers_, admired by _d.u.c.h.esses_, and sold by every bookseller of the metropolis, does not dedicate much consideration to _rustic readers_. I have now a review before me, ent.i.tled 'Literary Recreations,' where my _hardship_ is applauded far beyond my deserts. I know nothing of the critic, but think _him_ a very discerning gentleman, and _myself_ a devilish _clever_ fellow. His critique pleases me particularly, because it is of great length, and a proper quantum of censure is administered, just to give an agreeable _relish_ to the praise. You know I hate insipid, unqualified, common-place compliment. If you would wish to see it, order the 13th Number of 'Literary Recreations' for the last month. I a.s.sure you I have not the most distant idea of the writer of the article--it is printed in a periodical publication--and though I have written a paper (a review of Wordsworth),[75] which appears in the same work, I am ignorant of every other person concerned in it--even the editor, whose name I have not heard. My cousin, Lord Alexander Gordon, who resided in the same hotel, told me his mother, her Grace of Gordon, requested he would introduce my _Poetical_ Lordship to her _Highness_, as she had bought my volume, admired it exceedingly, in common with the rest of the fashionable world, and wished to claim her relationship with the author. I was unluckily engaged on an excursion for some days afterwards, and as the d.u.c.h.ess was on the eve of departing for Scotland, I have postponed my introduction till the winter, when I shall favour the lady, _whose taste I shall not dispute_, with my most sublime and edifying conversation. She is now in the Highlands, and Alexander took his departure, a few days ago, for the same _blessed_ seat of _'dark rolling winds.'_

"Crosby, my London publisher, has disposed of his second importation, and has sent to Ridge for a _third_--at least so he says. In every bookseller's window I see my _own name_, and _say nothing_, but enjoy my fame in secret. My last reviewer kindly requests me to alter my determination of writing no more; and 'A Friend to the Cause of Literature' begs I will _gratify_ the _public_ with some new work 'at no very distant period.' Who would not be a bard?--that is to say, if all critics would be so polite. However, the others will pay me off, I doubt not, for this _gentle_ encouragement. If so, have at 'em? By the by, I have written at my intervals of leisure, after two in the morning, 380 lines in blank verse, of Bosworth Field. I have luckily got Hutton's account. I shall extend the poem to eight or ten books, and shall have finished it in a year. Whether it will be published or not must depend on circ.u.mstances. So much for _egotism_! My _laurels_ have turned my brain, but the _cooling acids_ of forthcoming criticisms will probably restore me to _modesty_.

"Southwell is a d.a.m.ned place--I have done with it--at least in all probability: excepting yourself, I esteem no one within its precincts.

You were my only _rational_ companion; and in plain truth, I had more respect for you than the whole _bevy_, with whose foibles I amused myself in compliance with their prevailing propensities. You gave yourself more trouble with me and my ma.n.u.scripts than a thousand _dolls_ would have done. Believe me, I have not forgotten your good nature in _this circle of sin_, and one day I trust I shall be able to evince my grat.i.tude. Adieu,

yours, &c.

"P.S. Remember me to Dr. P."

LETTER 17.

TO MISS ----.

"London, August 11, 1807.

"On Sunday next I set off for the Highlands.[76] A friend of mine accompanies me in my carriage to Edinburgh. There we shall leave it, and proceed in a _tandem_ (a species of open carriage) through the western pa.s.ses to Inverary, where we shall purchase _shelties_, to enable us to view places inaccessible to _vehicular conveyances_. On the coast we shall hire a vessel, and visit the most remarkable of the Hebrides; and, if we have time and favourable weather, mean to sail as far as Iceland, only 300 miles from the northern extremity of Caledonia, to peep at _Hecla_. This last intention you will keep a secret, as my nice _mamma_ would imagine I was on a Voyage of Discovery, and raise the accustomed _maternal warwhoop_.