"It was not Murray's fault. I did not send the MS. _overture_, but I send it now[55], and it may be restored;--or, at any rate, you may keep the original, and give any copies you please. I send it, as written, and as I _read_ it to you--I have no other copy.

"By last week's _two_ posts, in two packets, I sent to your address, at _Paris_, a longish poem upon the late Irishism of your countrymen in their reception of * * *. Pray, have you received it?

It is in 'the high Roman fashion,' and full of ferocious phantasy.

As _you_ could not well take up the matter with Paddy (being of the same nest), I have;--but I hope still that I have done justice to his great men and his good heart. As for * * *, you will find it laid on with a trowel. I delight in your 'fact historical'--is it a fact?

"Yours, &c.

"P.S. You have not answered me about Schlegel--why not? Address to me at Pisa, whither I am going, to join the exiles--a pretty numerous body at present. Let me hear how you are, and what you mean to do. Is there no chance of your recrossing the Alps? If the G. Rex marries again, let him not want an Epithalamium--suppose a joint concern of you and me, like Sternhold and Hopkins!"

[Footnote 55: The lines "Oh Wellington," which I had missed in their original place at the opening of the third Canto, and took for granted that they had been suppressed by his publisher.]

LETTER 458. TO MR. MURRAY.

"September 28. 1821.

"I add another cover to request you to ask Moore to obtain (if possible) my letters to the late Lady Melbourne from Lady Cowper.

They are very numerous, and ought to have been restored long ago, as I was ready to give back Lady Melbourne's in exchange. These latter are in Mr. Hobhouse's custody with my other papers, and shall be punctually restored if required. I did not choose before to apply to Lady Cowper, as her mother's death naturally kept me from intruding upon her feelings at the time of its occurrence.

Some years have now elapsed, and it is essential that I should have my own epistles. They are essential as confirming that part of the 'Memoranda' which refers to the two periods (1812 and 1814) when my marriage with her niece was in contemplation, and will tend to show what my real views and feelings were upon that subject.

"You need not be alarmed; the 'fourteen years[56]' will hardly elapse without some mortality amongst us; it is a long lease of life to speculate upon. So your calculation will not be in so much peril, as the 'argosie' will sink before that time, and 'the pound of flesh' be withered previously to your being so long out of a return.

"I also wish to give you a hint or two (as you have really behaved very handsomely to Moore in the business, and are a fine fellow in your line) for your advantage. _If_ by your own management you can extract any of my epistles from Lady ----, (* * * * * * *), they might be of use in your collection (sinking of course the _names_ and _all such circ.u.mstances_ as might hurt _living_ feelings, or _those_ of _survivors_); they treat of more topics than love occasionally.

"I will tell you who may _happen_ to have some letters of mine in their possession: Lord Powerscourt, some to his late brother; Mr.

Long of--(I forget his place)--but the father of Edward Long of the Guards, who was drowned in going to Lisbon early in 1809; Miss Elizabeth Pigot, of Southwell, Notts (she may be _Mistress_ by this time, for she had a year or two more than I): _they_ were _not_ love-letters, so that you might have them without scruple. There are, or might be, some to the late Rev. J.C. Tattersall, in the hands of his brother (half-brother) Mr. Wheatley, who resides near Canterbury, I think. There are some of Charles Gordon, now of Dulwich; and some few to Mrs. Chaworth; but these latter are probably destroyed or inaccessible.

"I mention these people and particulars merely as _chances_. Most of them have probably destroyed the letters, which in fact are of little import, many of them written when very young, and several at school and college.

"Peel (the _second_ brother of the Secretary) was a correspondent of mine, and also Porter, the son of the Bishop of Clogher; Lord Clare a very voluminous one; William Harness (a friend of Milman's) another; Charles Drummond (son of the banker); William Bankes (the voyager), your friend: R.C. Dallas, Esq.; Hodgson; Henry Drury; Hobhouse you were already aware of.

"I have gone through this long list[57] of

"'The cold, the faithless, and the dead,'

because I know that, like 'the curious in fish-sauce,' you are a researcher of such things.

"Besides these, there are other occasional ones to literary men and so forth, complimentary, &c. &c. &c. not worth much more than the rest. There are some hundreds, too, of Italian notes of mine, scribbled with a n.o.ble contempt of the grammar and dictionary, in very English Etruscan; for I _speak_ Italian very fluently, but write it carelessly and incorrectly to a degree."

[Footnote 56: He here adverts to a pa.s.sing remark, in one of Mr.

Murray's letters, that, as his Lordship's "Memoranda" were not to be published in his lifetime, the sum now paid for the work, 2100_l_. would most probably, upon a reasonable calculation of survivorship, amount ultimately to no less than 8000_l_.]

[Footnote 57: To all the persons upon this list who were accessible, application has, of course, been made,--with what success it is in the reader's power to judge from the communications that have been laid before him. Among the companions of the poet's boyhood there are (as I have already had occasion to mention and regret) but few traces of his youthful correspondence to be found; and of all those who knew him at that period, his fair Southwell correspondent alone seems to have been sufficiently endowed with the gift of second-sight to antic.i.p.ate the Byron of a future day, and foresee the compound interest that Time and Fame would acc.u.mulate on every precious sc.r.a.p of the young bard which she h.o.a.rded. On the whole, however, it is not unsatisfactory to be able to state that, with the exception of a very small minority (only one of whom is possessed of any papers of much importance), every distinguished a.s.sociate and intimate of the n.o.ble poet, from the very outset to the close of his extraordinary career, have come forward cordially to communicate whatever memorials they possessed of him,--trusting, as I am willing to flatter myself, that they confided these treasures to one, who, if not able to do full justice to the memory of their common friend, would, at least, not willingly suffer it to be dishonoured in his hands.]

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."

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 pa.s.s--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 gra.s.s 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 princ.i.p.al 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.

LETTER 460. TO MR. MOORE.

"September--no--October 1. 1821.

"I have written to you lately, both in prose and verse, at great length, to Paris and London. I presume that Mrs. Moore, or whoever is your Paris deputy, will forward my packets to you in London.

"I am setting off for Pisa, if a slight incipient intermittent fever do not prevent me. I fear it is not strong enough to give Murray much chance of realising his thirteens again. I hardly should regret it, I think, provided you raised your price upon him--as what Lady Holderness (my sister's grandmother, a Dutchwoman) used to call Augusta, her _Residee Legatoo_--so as to provide for us all: _my_ bones with a splendid and larmoyante edition, and you with double what is extractable during my lifetime.

"I have a strong presentiment that (bating some out of the way accident) you will survive me. The difference of eight years, or whatever it is, between our ages, is nothing. I do not feel (nor am, indeed, anxious to feel) the principle of life in me tend to longevity. My father and mother died, the one at thirty-five or six, and the other at forty-five; and Dr. Rush, or somebody else, says that n.o.body lives long, without having _one parent_, at least, an old stager.

"I _should_, to be sure, like to see out my eternal mother-in-law, not so much for her heritage, but from my natural antipathy. But the indulgence of this natural desire is too much to expect from the Providence who presides over old women. I bore you with all this about lives, because it has been put in my way by a calculation of insurances which Murray has sent me. I _really think_ you should have more, if I evaporate within a reasonable time.