Chapter XXIV: Letter 170: ) (3)

I should like, of all things, to have heard the Amabaean eclogue between her and Lewis--both obstinate, clever, odd, garrulous, and shrill. In fact, one could have heard nothing else. But they fell out, alas!--and now they will never quarrel again. Could not one reconcile them for the "nonce?" Poor Corinne--she will find that some of her fine sayings won't suit our fine ladies and gentlemen.

I am getting rather into admiration of [Lady C. Annesley] the youngest sister of [Lady F. Webster]. A wife would be my salvation. I am sure the wives of my acquaintances have hitherto done me little good. Catherine is beautiful, but very young, and, I think, a fool. But I have not seen enough to judge; besides, I hate an _esprit_ in petticoats. That she won't love me is very probable, nor shall I love her. But, on my system, and the modern system in general, that don't signify. The business (if it came to business) would probably be arranged between papa and me. She would have her own way; I am good-humoured to women, and docile; and, if I did not fall in love with her, which I should try to prevent, we should be a very comfortable couple. As to conduct, _that_ she must look to. But _if_ I love, I shall be jealous;--and for that reason I will not be in love. Though, after all, I doubt my temper, and fear I should not be so patient as becomes the _bienseance_ of a married man in my station. Divorce ruins the poor _femme_, and damages are a paltry compensation. I do fear my temper would lead me into some of our oriental tricks of vengeance, or, at any rate, into a summary appeal to the court of twelve paces. So "I'll none on't," but e'en remain single and solitary;--though I should like to have somebody now and then to yawn with one.

Ward, and, after him,----, has stolen one of my buffooneries about Mde. de Stael's Metaphysics and the Fog, and passed it, by speech and letter, as their own. As Gibbet says, "they are the most of a gentleman of any on the road." [1] W. is in sad enmity with the Whigs about this Review of Fox [2] (if he _did_ review him);--all the epigrammatists and essayists are at him. I hate _odds_, and wish he may beat them. As for me, by the blessing of indifference, I have simplified my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments; and, as it is the shortest and most agreeable and summary feeling imaginable, the first moment of an universal republic would convert me into an advocate for single and uncontradicted despotism. The fact is, riches are power, and poverty is slavery all over the earth, and one sort of establishment is no better nor worse for a _people_ than another. I shall adhere to my party, because it would not be honourable to act otherwise; but, as to _opinions_, I don't think politics _worth_ an _opinion_. _Conduct_ is another thing:--if you begin with a party, go on with them. I have no consistency, except in politics; and _that_ probably arises from my indifference on the subject altogether.

[Footnote 1: The 'Beaux' Stratagem', by George Farquhar (act iv. sc. 3):

"'Gibbet'.

"And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of address and
good manners in robbing a lady: I am most a gentleman that way that
ever travelled the road."]

[Footnote 2: An article by Ward on 'The Correspondence of Gilbert Wakefield with Mr. Fox', in the 'Quarterly Review' for July, 1813.]

* * * * *

Feb. 18.

Better than a month since I last journalised:--most of it out of London and at Notts., but a busy one and a pleasant, at least three weeks of it. On my return, I find all the newspapers in hysterics, and town in an uproar, on the avowal and republication of two stanzas on Princess Charlotte's weeping at Regency's speech to Lauderdale in 1812. [1] They are daily at it still;--some of the abuse good, all of it hearty. They talk of a motion in our House upon it--be it so.

Got up--redde the _Morning Post_ containing the battle of Buonaparte, [2] the destruction of the Customhouse, [3] and a paragraph on me as long as my pedigree, and vituperative, as usual. [4]

Hobhouse is returned to England. He is my best friend, the most lively, and a man of the most sterling talents extant.

'The Corsair' has been conceived, written, published, etc., since I last took up this journal. They tell me it has great success;--it was written _con amore_, and much from _existence_. Murray is satisfied with its progress; and if the public are equally so with the perusal, there's an end of the matter.

Nine o'clock.

Been to Hanson's on business. Saw Rogers, and had a note from Lady Melbourne, who says, it is said I am "much out of spirits." I wonder if I really am or not? I have certainly enough of "that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart," [5] and it is better they should believe it to be the result of these attacks than of the real cause; but--ay, ay, always _but_, to the end of the chapter.

Hobhouse has told me ten thousand anecdotes of Napoleon, all good and true. My friend H. is the most entertaining of companions, and a fine fellow to boot.

Redde a little--wrote notes and letters, and am alone, which Locke says is bad company. "Be not solitary, be not idle." [6]--Um!--the idleness is troublesome; but I can't see so much to regret in the solitude. The more I see of men, the less I like them. If I could but say so of women too, all would be well. Why can't I? I am now six-and-twenty; my passions have had enough to cool them; my affections more than enough to wither them,--and yet--and yet--always _yet_ and _but_--"Excellent well, you are a fishmonger--get thee to a nunnery." [7]--"They fool me to the top of my bent." [8]

Midnight.

Began a letter, which I threw into the fire. Redde--but to little purpose. Did not visit Hobhouse, as I promised and ought. No matter, the loss is mine. Smoked cigars.

Napoleon!--this week will decide his fate. All seems against him; but I believe and hope he will win--at least, beat back the invaders. What right have we to prescribe sovereigns to France? Oh for a Republic! "Brutus, thou sleepest." [9] Hobhouse abounds in continental anecdotes of this extraordinary man; all in favour of his intellect and courage, but against his _bonhommie_. No wonder;--how should he, who knows mankind well, do other than despise and abhor them?

The greater the equality, the more impartially evil is distributed, and becomes lighter by the division among so many--therefore, a Republic! [10]

More notes from Madame de Stael unanswered--and so they shall remain. [11] I admire her abilities, but really her society is overwhelming--an avalanche that buries one in glittering nonsense--all snow and sophistry.

Shall I go to Mackintosh's on Tuesday? um!--I did not go to Marquis Lansdowne's nor to Miss Berry's, though both are pleasant. So is Sir James's,--but I don't know--I believe one is not the better for parties; at least, unless some _regnante_ is there.

I wonder how the deuce any body could make such a world; for what purpose dandies, for instance, were ordained--and kings--and fellows of colleges--and women of "a certain age"--and many men of any age--and myself, most of all!

"Divesne prisco natus ab Inacho
Nil interest, an pauper et infima
De gente, sub dio ('sic') moreris,
Victima nil miserantis Orci.
Omnes eodem cogimur," etc. [12]

Is there any thing beyond?--_who_ knows? _He_ that can't tell. Who tells that there _is_? He who don't know. And when shall he know? perhaps, when he don't expect, and generally when he don't wish it. In this last respect, however, all are not alike: it depends a good deal upon education,--something upon nerves and habits--but most upon digestion.

[Footnote 1: See p. 134, 'note' 2 [Footnote 3 of Letter 241], and Appendix VII.]

[Footnote 2: The battle of Brienne was fought February 1, 1814.]

[Footnote 3: By fire, on the 12th of February.]

[Footnote 4:

"We are informed from very good authority, that as soon as the House
of Lords meet again, a Peer of very independent principles and
character intends to give notice of a motion occasioned by a late
spontaneous avowal of a copy of verses by Lord Byron, addressed to the
Princess Charlotte of Wales, in which he has taken the most
unwarrantable liberties with her august father's character and
conduct: this motion being of a personal nature, it will be necessary
to give the noble Satirist some days' notice, that he may prepare
himself for his defence against a charge of so aggravated a nature,"
etc.

'Morning Post', February 18.]

[Footnote 5: 'Macbeth', act v. sc. 3.]

[Footnote 6: These words close the penultimate paragraph of Burton's 'Anatomy of Melancholy'.]

[Footnote 7: 'Hamlet', act ii. sc. 2, and act iii. sc. 1.]

[Footnote 8: 'Ibid'., sc. 2.]

[Footnote 9:

"Brutus, thou sleepest, awake."

'Julius Caesar', act ii. sc. 1.]

[Footnote 10: The following extract from 'Detached Thoughts' (1821) implies that this expression of opinion was no passing thought (but see Scott's note, p. 376 [Footnote 5 of Journal entry for December 13th, 1813]):

"There is nothing left for Mankind but a Republic, and I think that
there are hopes of such. The two Americas (South and North) have it;
Spain and Portugal approach it; all thirst for it. Oh Washington!"]

[Footnote 11: Here is one of Madame de Stael's notes:

"Je renonce a vos visites, pourvu que vous acceptiez mes diners, car
enfin a quoi servirait il de vivre dans le meme tems que vous, si
l'on ne vous voyait pas? Dinez chez moi dimanche avec vos amis,--je ne
dirai pas vos admirateurs, car je n'ai rencontre que cela de touts
parts.

"A dimanche,

"DE STAEL.

"Mardi.

"Je prends le silence pour oui."]

[Footnote 12: Horace, 'Odes', II. iii. 21, 'et seqq.']

* * * * *

Saturday, Feb. 19.

Just returned from seeing Kean [1] in Richard. By Jove, he is a soul! Life--nature--truth without exaggeration or diminution. Kemble's Hamlet is perfect;--but Hamlet is not Nature. Richard is a man; and Kean is Richard. Now to my own concerns.

Went to Waite's. Teeth are all right and white; but he says that I grind them in my sleep and chip the edges. That same sleep is no friend of mine, though I court him sometimes for half the twenty-four.

[Footnote 1: Edmund Kean (1787-1833), after acting in provincial theatres, appeared at the Haymarket in June, 1806, as "Ganem" in 'The Mountaineers', but again returned to the country. His performance of "Shylock" in the 'Merchant of Venice', at Drury Lane, on January 26, 1814, made him famous. He appeared in "Richard III" on February 12, and still further increased his reputation.

In the 'Courier', February 26, 1814, appears this paragraph:

"Mr. Kean's attraction is unprecedented in the annals of
theatricals--even Cooke's performances are left at an immeasurable
distance; his first three nights of 'Richard' produced upwards of
L1800, and on repeating that character on Thursday night for the
fourthth ('sic') time, the receipts were upwards of L700."

On March 1 the same paper says,

"Drury Lane Theatre again overflowed last night, at an early hour.
Such is the continued and increasing attraction of that truly great
actor Mr. Kean."

After the retirement of John Kemble (June 23, 1817), he had no rival on the stage, especially in such parts as "Othello," "Lear," "Hamlet," "Sir Giles Overreach," and the two already mentioned. His last appearance on the stage was in "Othello" at Covent Garden, March 25, 1833.

"To see Kean act," said Coleridge, "is like reading Shakespeare by
flashes of lightning."

"Garrick's nature," writes Leigh Hunt, in the 'Tatler', July 25, 1831,
"displaced Quin's formalism; and in precisely the same way did Kean
displace Kemble. ... Everything with Kemble was literally a
'personation'--it was a mask and a sounding-pipe. It was all external
and artificial.... Kean's face is full of light and shade, his tones
vary, his voice trembles, his eye glistens, sometimes with a withering
scorn, sometimes with a tear."

It was the realism and nature of Kean which so strongly appealed to Byron, and enabled the actor, to the last, in spite of his drunken habits, poor figure, and weak voice, to sway his audiences. The same qualities at first repelled more timid critics, and perhaps justified Hazlitt's saying that Kean was "not much relished in the upper circles." Miss Berry, for example, who saw him in all his principal parts in 1814--in "Richard III," "Hamlet," "Othello," and "Sir Giles Overreach"--remained cold.

"His 'Richard III.' pleased me, but I was not enthusiastic. His
expression of the passions is natural and strong, but I do not like
his declamation; his voice, naturally not agreeable, becomes
monotonous"

('Diary', vol. iii. p. 7). Of his "Hamlet" she says,

"To my mind he is without grace and without elevation of mind, because
he never seems to rise with the poet in those sublime passages which
abound in 'Hamlet'"

('ibid.', p. 9). Miss Berry's criticism is supported by good authority. Lewes ('On Actors and the Art of Acting', pp. 6, 11), while calling him "a consummate master of passionate expression," denies his capacity for representing "the intellectual side of heroism."

Kean preferred the Coal-Hole Tavern in the Strand, and the society of the Wolf Club, to Lord Holland's dinner-parties. Though he never fell so low as Cooke, his recklessness, irregularities, eccentricities, and habits of drinking, in spite of the large sums of money that passed through his hands, made his closing days neither prosperous nor reputable.

Such effect had the passionate energy of Kean's acting on Byron's mind, that, once, in seeing him play "Sir Giles Overreach," he was so affected as to be seized with a sort of convulsive fit. Some years later, in Italy, when the representation of Alfieri's tragedy of 'Mirra' had agitated him in the same violent manner, he compared the two instances as the only ones in his life when "any thing under reality" had been able to move him so powerfully.

"To such lengths," says Moore, "did he, at this time, carry his
enthusiasm for Kean, that when Miss O'Neil appeared, and, by her
matchless representation of feminine tenderness, attracted all eyes
and hearts, he was not only a little jealous of her reputation, as
interfering with that of his favourite, but, in order to guard himself
against the risk of becoming a convert, refused to go to see her act.
I endeavoured sometimes to persuade him into witnessing, at least, one
of her performances; but his answer was (punning upon Shakspeare's
word, 'unanealed'), 'No--I am resolved to continue 'un-Oneiled'.'
"

In his 'Detached Thoughts' (1821) Byron says,

"Of actors Cooke was the most natural, Kemble the most supernatural,
Kean the medium between the two. But Mrs. Siddons was worth them all
put together."]

* * * * *

February 20.

Got up and tore out two leaves of this Journal--I don't know why. Hodgson just called and gone. He has much _bonhommie_ with his other good qualities, and more talent than he has yet had credit for beyond his circle.

An invitation to dine at Holland House to meet Kean. He is worth meeting; and I hope, by getting into good society, he will be prevented from falling like Cooke. He is greater now on the stage, and off he should never be less. There is a stupid and underrating criticism upon him in one of the newspapers. I thought that, last night, though great, he rather under-acted more than the first time. This may be the effect of these cavils; but I hope he has more sense than to mind them. He cannot expect to maintain his present eminence, or to advance still higher, without the envy of his green-room fellows, and the nibbling of their admirers. But, if he don't beat them all, why then--merit hath no purchase in "these coster-monger days." [1]

I wish that I had a talent for the drama; I would write a tragedy _now_. But no,--it is gone. Hodgson talks of one,--he will do it well;--and I think M---e [Moore] should try. He has wonderful powers, and much variety; besides, he has lived and felt. To write so as to bring home to the heart, the heart must have been tried,--but, perhaps, ceased to be so. While you are under the influence of passions, you only feel, but cannot describe them,--any more than, when in action, you could turn round and tell the story to your next neighbour! When all is over,--all, all, and irrevocable,--trust to memory--she is then but too faithful.

Went out, and answered some letters, yawned now and then, and redde the 'Robbers'. Fine,--but 'Fiesco' is better [2]; and Alfieri, and Monti's 'Aristodemo' [3] _best_. They are more equal than the Tedeschi dramatists.

Answered--or rather acknowledged--the receipt of young Reynolds's [4] poem, _Safie_. The lad is clever, but much of his thoughts are borrowed,--whence, the Reviewers may find out. I hate discouraging a young one; and I think,--though wild and more oriental than he would be, had he seen the scenes where he has placed his tale,--that he has much talent, and, certainly fire enough.

Received a very singular epistle; and the mode of its conveyance, through Lord H.'s hands, as curious as the letter itself. But it was gratifying and pretty.

[Footnote 1: 'Henry IV.', Part II. act i. sc. 2.]

[Footnote 2: Schiller's 'Robbers' was first produced at Mannheim, January 13, 1782; his 'Fiesco' was published in 1783. The 'Robbers' is included in Benjamin Thompson's 'German Theatre' (1801). 'Fiesco' was translated by G. H. Noehden and John Stoddart in 1798.]

[Footnote 3: Monti's three tragedies, 'Caio Gracco', 'Aristodemo', and 'Manfredi', were written in rivalry of Alfieri's tragedies between the years 1788 and 1799.]

[Footnote 4: For John Hamilton Reynolds, see 'Letters', vol. iii. (February 20, 1814, 'note' 1).]

* * * * *

Sunday, February 27.

Here I am, alone, instead of dining at Lord H.'s, where I was asked,--but not inclined to go any where. Hobhouse says I am growing a _loup garou_,--a solitary hobgoblin. True;--"I am myself alone." [1]

The last week has been passed in reading--seeing plays--now and then visitors--sometimes yawning and sometimes sighing, but no writing,--save of letters. If I could always read, I should never feel the want of society. Do I regret it?--um!--"Man delights not me," [2] and only one woman--at a time.

There is something to me very softening in the presence of a woman,--some strange influence, even if one is not in love with them--which I cannot at all account for, having no very high opinion of the sex. But yet,--I always feel in better humour with myself and every thing else, if there is a woman within ken. Even Mrs. Mule [3], my firelighter,--the most ancient and withered of her kind,--and (except to myself) not the best-tempered--always makes me laugh,--no difficult task when I am "i' the vein."

Heigho! I would I were in mine island!--I am not well; and yet I look in good health. At times, I fear, "I am not in my perfect mind;" [4]--and yet my heart and head have stood many a crash, and what should ail them now? They prey upon themselves, and I am sick--sick--"Prithee, undo this button--why should a cat, a rat, a dog have life--and thou no life at all?" [5]

Six-and-twenty years, as they call them, why, I might and should have been a Pasha by this time. "I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun." [6]

Buonaparte is not yet beaten; but has rebutted Blucher, and repiqued Schwartzenburg [7]. This it is to have a head. If he again wins, _Vae victis!_

[Footnote 1:

"I am myself alone."

'Henry VI.', Part III. act v. sc. 6.]

[Footnote 2: 'Hamlet', act ii. sc. 2.]

[Footnote 3:

"This ancient housemaid, of whose gaunt and witch-like appearance it
would be impossible to convey any idea but by the pencil, furnished
one among the numerous instances of Lord Byron's proneness to attach
himself to any thing, however homely, that had once enlisted his good
nature in its behalf, and become associated with his thoughts. He
first found this old woman at his lodgings in Bennet Street, where,
for a whole season, she was the perpetual scarecrow of his visitors.
When, next year, he took chambers in Albany, one of the great
advantages which his friends looked to in the change was, that they
should get rid of this phantom. But, no,--there she was again--he had
actually brought her with him from Bennet Street. The following year
saw him married, and, with a regular establishment of servants, in
Piccadilly; and here,--as Mrs. Mule had not made her appearance to any
of the visitors,--it was concluded, rashly, that the witch had
vanished. One of those friends, however, who had most fondly indulged
in this persuasion, happening to call one day when all the male part
of the establishment were abroad, saw, to his dismay, the door opened
by the same grim personage, improved considerably in point of
babiliments since he last saw her, and keeping pace with the increased
scale of her master's household, as a new peruke, and other symptoms
of promotion, testified. When asked 'how he came to carry this old
woman about with him from place to place,' Lord Byron's only answer
was, 'The poor old devil was so kind to me'". (Moore).]

[Footnote 4: 'King Lear', act iv. sc. 7.]

[Footnote 5:

"Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,
And thou no breath at all?"

'King Lear', act v. sc. 3.]

[Footnote 6:

"I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun,
And wish the estate of the world were now undone."

'Macbeth', act v. sc. 5.]

[Footnote 7: Napoleon fought the battle of Nangis against Blucher on the 17th of February, 1814, and that of Montereau against Prince Schwartzenberg on the following day.]

* * * * *

Sunday, March 6.

On Tuesday last dined with Rogers,--Madame de Stael, Mackintosh, Sheridan, Erskine [1], and Payne Knight, Lady Donegal, and Miss R. there. Sheridan told a very good story of himself and Madame de Recamier's handkerchief; Erskine a few stories of himself only. _She_ is going to write a big book about England, she says;--I believe her. Asked by her how I liked Miss Edgeworth's thing, called _Patronage_ [2], and answered (very sincerely) that I thought it very bad for _her_, and worse than any of the others. Afterwards thought it possible Lady Donegal [3], being Irish, might be a patroness of Miss Edgeworth, and was rather sorry for my opinion, as I hate putting people into fusses, either with themselves or their favourites; it looks as if one did it on purpose. The party went off very well, and the fish was very much to my gusto. But we got up too soon after the women; and Mrs. Corinne always lingers so long after dinner that we wish her in--the drawing-room.

To-day Campbell called, and while sitting here in came Merivale [4]. During our colloquy, C. (ignorant that Merivale was the writer) abused the "mawkishness of the _Quarterly Review_ of Grimm's _Correspondence_." I (knowing the secret) changed the conversation as soon as I could; and C. went away, quite convinced of having made the most favourable impression on his new acquaintance. Merivale is luckily a very good-natured fellow, or God he knows what might have been engendered from such a malaprop. I did not look at him while this was going on, but I felt like a coal--for I like Merivale, as well as the article in question.

Asked to Lady Keith's [5] to-morrow evening--I think I will go; but it is the first party invitation I have accepted this "season," as the learned Fletcher called it, when that youngest brat of Lady----'s cut my eye and cheek open with a misdirected pebble--"Never mind, my Lord, the scar will be gone before the _season_;" as if one's eye was of no importance in the mean time.

Lord Erskine called, and gave me his famous pamphlet, with a marginal note and corrections in his handwriting. Sent it to be bound superbly, and shall treasure it.

Sent my fine print of Napoleon [6] to be framed. It _is_ framed; and the Emperor becomes his robes as if he had been hatched in them.

[Footnote 1: Thomas, Lord Erskine (1750-1823), youngest son of the tenth Earl of Buchan, a midshipman in the Royal Navy (1764-67), an ensign, and subsequently a lieutenant in the First Foot (1767-75), was called to the Bar in 1778, and became Lord Chancellor in 1806. As an advocate he was unrivalled.

"Even the great luminaries of the law," says Wraxall ('Posthumous
Memoirs', vol. i. p. 86), "when arrayed in their ermine, bent under his
ascendancy, and seemed to be half subdued by his intelligence, or awed
by his vehemence, pertinacity, and undaunted character."

With a jury he was particularly successful, though he lived to write the lines quoted by Lord Campbell ('Lives of the Chancellors', ed. 1868, vol. viii. p. 233):

"The monarch's pale face was with blushes suffused,
To observe right and wrong by twelve villains confused,
And, kicking their----s all round in a fury,
Cried, ''Curs'd be the day I invented a jury!''"

A Whig in politics, and in sympathy with the doctrines of the French Revolution, he defended Paine, Frost, Hardy, and other political offenders, and did memorable service to the cause of constitutional liberty. In the House of Commons, which he entered as M. P. for Portsmouth in 1783, he was a failure; his maiden speech on Fox's India Bill fell flat, and he was crushed by Pitt's contempt. As Lord Chancellor (1806-7) he proved a better judge than was expected. At the time when Byron made his acquaintance, he had practically retired from public life, and devoted himself to literature, society, and farming, writing on the services of rooks, and attending the Holkham sheep-shearings. Lord Campbell has collected many of his verses and jokes in vol. ix. chap. cxc. of his 'Lives of the Chancellors'. His famous pamphlet, 'On the Causes and Consequences of the War with France' (1797), was written, as he told Miss Berry ('Journal of Miss Berry', vol. ii. p. 340),

"on slips of paper in the midst of all the business which I was
engaged in at the time--not at home, but in open court, whilst the
causes were trying. When it was not my turn to examine a witness, or
to speak to the Jury, I wrote a little bit; and so on by snatches."

His 'Armata' was published by Murray in 1817. In society Erskine was widely known for his brilliancy, his puns, and his extraordinary vanity. His egotism gained him such titles as Counsellor Ego, Baron Ego of Eye, and supplied Mathias ('Pursuits of Literature') with an illustration:

"A vain, pert prater, bred in Erskine's school."]

[Footnote 2: Miss Edgeworth's 'Patronage' was published in 1813-4. In 1813 she had been in London with her father and stepmother. The following entries respecting the family are taken from Byron's 'Detached Thoughts':

"Old Edgeworth, the fourth or fifth Mrs. Edgeworth, and 'the' Miss
Edgeworth were in London, 1813. Miss Edgeworth liked, Mrs. Edgeworth
not disliked, old Edgeworth a bore, the worst of bores--a boisterous
Bore. I met them in Society--once at a breakfast of Sir H.D.'s. Old
Edgeworth came in late, boasting that he had given 'Dr. Parr a
dressing the night before' (no such easy matter by the way). I thought
her pleasant. They all abused Anna Seward's memory. When on the road
they heard of her brother's--and his son's--death. What was to be
done? Their 'London' apparel was all ordered and made! so they sunk
his death for the six weeks of their sojourn, and went into mourning
on their way back to Ireland. 'Fact!'

"While the Colony were in London, there was a book with a subscription
for the 'recall of Mrs. Siddons to the Stage' going about for
signatures. Moore moved for a similar subscription for the 'recall of
'Mr. Edgeworth to Ireland!''

"Sir Humphry Davy told me that the scene of the French Valet and Irish
postboy in 'Ennui' was taken from his verbal description to the
Edgeworths in Edgeworthtown of a similar fact on the road occurring to
himself. So much the better--being 'life'."]

[Footnote 3: The Marquis of Donegal married, in 1795, Anna, daughter of Sir Edward May, Bart.]

[Footnote 4: For J. H. Merivale, see 'Letters', vol. iii. (January, 1814. 'note' 1).]

[Footnote 5: Hester Maria, eldest daughter and co-heir of Henry Thrale, of Streatham, the friend of Dr. Johnson, married, in 1808, Viscount Keith.]

[Footnote 6: Byron's "Portrait of Bonaparte, engraved by Morghen, _very fine impression, in a gilt frame_," was sold at his sale, April 5, 1816.]

* * * * *

March 7.

Rose at seven--ready by half-past eight--went to Mr. Hanson's, Bloomsbury Square--went to church with his eldest daughter, Mary Anne (a good girl), and gave her away to the Earl of Portsmouth. [1] Saw her fairly a countess--congratulated the family and groom (bride)--drank a bumper of wine (wholesome sherris) to their felicity, and all that--and came home. Asked to stay to dinner, but could not. At three sat to Phillips for faces. Called on Lady M. [Melbourne]--I like her so well, that I always stay too long. (Mem. to mend of that.)

Passed the evening with Hobhouse, who has begun a poem, which promises highly;--wish he would go on with it. Heard some curious extracts from a life of Morosini, [2] the blundering Venetian, who blew up the Acropolis at Athens with a bomb, and be damned to him! Waxed sleepy--just come home--must go to bed, and am engaged to meet Sheridan to-morrow at Rogers's.

Queer ceremony that same of marriage--saw many abroad, Greek and Catholic--one, at _home_, many years ago. There be some strange phrases in the prologue (the exhortation), which made me turn away, not to laugh in the face of the surpliceman. Made one blunder, when I joined the hands of the happy--rammed their left hands, by mistake, into one another. Corrected it--bustled back to the altar-rail, and said "Amen." Portsmouth responded as if he had got the whole by heart; and, if any thing, was rather before the priest. It is now midnight and----.

[Footnote 1: Lord Portsmouth (see 'Letters', vol. i. p. 9, 'note' 2 [Footnote 3 of Letter 3]), who had long known the Hansons, from whose house he married his first wife, married, March 7, 1814, Mary Anne, eldest daughter of John Hanson. A commission of lunacy was taken out by the brother and next heir, the Hon. Newton Fellowes; but Lord Chancellor Eldon decided that Lord Portsmouth was capable of entering into the marriage contract and managing his own affairs. The commission was, however, ultimately granted. Byron swore an affidavit on the first occasion.

"Denman mentioned Lord Byron's affidavit about Lord Portsmouth as a
proof of the influence of Hanson over him; Lord B. swearing that Lord
P. had 'rather a 'superior' mind than otherwise'"

('Memoirs, etc., of Thomas Moore', vol. vi. p. 47).

The following is the note which Byron sent Hanson to embody in his affidavit:

"I have been acquainted with Mr. Hanson and his family for many years.
He is my solicitor. About the beginning of March last he sent to me to
ask my opinion on the subject of Lord Portsmouth, who, as I understood
from Mr. H., was paying great attention to his eldest daughter. He
stated to me that Mr. Newton Fellowes (with whom I have no personal
acquaintance) was particularly desirous that Lord Portsmouth should
marry some 'elderly woman' of his (Mr. Fellowes's) selection--that the
title and family estates might thereby devolve on Mr. F. or his
children; but that Lord P. had expressed a dislike to old women, and a
desire to choose for himself. I told Mr. Hanson that, if Miss Hanson's
affections were not pre-engaged, and Lord Portsmouth appeared attached
to her, there could be, in my opinion, no objection to the match. I
think, but cannot be positive, that I saw Lord Portsmouth at Mr.
Hanson's two or three times previous to the marriage; but I had no
conversation with him upon it.

"The night before the ceremony, I received an invitation from Mr.
Hanson, requesting me, as a friend of the family, to be present at the
marriage, which was to take place next morning. I went next morning to
Bloomsbury Square, where I found the parties. Lady Portsmouth, with
her brother and sister and another gentleman, went in the carriage to
St. George's Church; Lord Portsmouth and myself walked, as the
carriage was full, and the distance short. On my way Lord Portsmouth
told me that he had been partial to Miss Hanson from her childhood,
and that, since she grew up, and more particularly subsequent to the
decease of the late Lady P., this partiality had become attachment,
and that he thought her calculated to make him an excellent wife. I
was present at the ceremony and gave away the bride. Lord Portsmouth's
behaviour seemed to me perfectly calm and rational on the occasion. He
seemed particularly attentive to the priest, and gave the responses
audibly and very distinctly. I remarked this because, in ordinary
conversation, his Lordship has a hesitation in his speech. After the
ceremony, we returned to Mr. Hanson's, whence, I believe, they went
into the country--where I did not accompany them. Since their return I
have occasionally seen Lord and Lady Portsmouth in Bloomsbury Square.
They appeared very happy. I have never been very intimate with his
Lordship, and am therefore unqualified to give a decided opinion of
his general conduct. But had I considered him insane, I should have
advised Mr. Hanson, when he consulted me on the subject, not to permit
the marriage. His preference of a young woman to an old one, and of
his own wishes to those of a younger brother, seemed to me neither
irrational nor extraordinary."

There is nothing in the note itself, or in the draft affidavit, to bear out Moore's report of Denman's statement.

Byron, according to the account given by Newton Hanson, is wrong in saying that Mrs. Hanson approved of the marriage. On the contrary, it was the cause of her death, a fortnight later. In 1828 the marriage was annulled, a jury having decided that Lord Portsmouth was 'non compos mentis' when he contracted it.]

[Footnote 2: Francesco Morosini (1618-1694) occupied the Morea for Venice (1687), besieged Athens, and bombarded the Parthenon, which had been made a powder-magazine. He became Doge of Venice in 1688.]

* * * * *

March 10, Thor's Day.

On Tuesday dined with Rogers,--Mackintosh, Sheridan, Sharpe,--much talk, and good,--all, except my own little prattlement. Much of old times--Horne Tooke--the Trials--evidence of Sheridan, and anecdotes of those times, when _I_, alas! was an infant. If I had been a man, I would have made an English Lord Edward Fitzgerald.

Set down Sheridan at Brookes's,--where, by the by, he could not have well set down himself, as he and I were the only drinkers. Sherry means to stand for Westminster, as Cochrane [1] (the stock-jobbing hoaxer) must vacate. Brougham [2] is a candidate. I fear for poor dear Sherry. Both have talents of the highest order, but the youngster has _yet_ a character. We shall see, if he lives to Sherry's age, how he will pass over the redhot plough-shares of public life. I don't know why, but I hate to see the _old_ ones lose; particularly Sheridan, notwithstanding all his _mechancete_.

Received many, and the kindest, thanks from Lady Portsmouth, _pere_ and _mere_, for my match-making. I don't regret it, as she looks the countess well, and is a very good girl. It is odd how well she carries her new honours. She looks a different woman, and high-bred, too. I had no idea that I could make so good a peeress.

Went to the play with Hobhouse. Mrs. Jordan superlative in Hoyden, [3] and Jones well enough in Foppington. _What plays_! what wit!--_helas_! Congreve and Vanbrugh are your only comedy. Our society is too insipid now for the like copy. Would _not_ go to Lady Keith's. Hobhouse thought it odd. I wonder _he_ should like parties. If one is in love, and wants to break a commandment and covet any thing that is there, they do very well. But to go out amongst the mere herd, without a motive, pleasure, or pursuit--'sdeath! "I'll none of it." He told me an odd report,--that _I_ am the actual Conrad, the veritable Corsair, and that part of my travels are supposed to have passed in privacy. Um!--people sometimes hit near the truth; but never the whole truth. H. don't know what I was about the year after he left the Levant; nor does any one--nor-- --nor--nor--however, it is a lie--but, "I doubt the equivocation of the fiend that lies like truth!" [4]

I shall have letters of importance to-morrow. Which,----,----, or ----? heigho!------is in my heart,----in my head,----in my eye, and the _single_ one, Heaven knows where. All write, and will be answered. "Since I have crept in favour with myself, I must maintain it;" [5] but I never "mistook my person," [6] though I think others have.

----called to-day in great despair about his mistress, who has taken a freak of----. He began a letter to her, but was obliged to stop short--I finished it for him, and he copied and sent it. If _he_ holds out, and keeps to my instructions of affected indifference, she will lower her colours. If she don't, he will, at least, get rid of her, and she don't seem much worth keeping. But the poor lad is in love--if that is the case, she will win. When they once discover their power, _finita e la musica_.

Sleepy, and must go to bed.

[Footnote 1: Thomas, Lord Cochrane (1775-1860), eldest son of the ninth Earl of Dundonald, a captain in the Royal Navy, and M. P. for Westminster, had done brilliant service in his successive commands--the 'Speedy', 'Pallas', 'Imperieuse', and the flotilla of fire-ships at Basque Roads in 1809. In the House of Commons he had been a strong opponent of the Government, an advocate of Parliamentary Reform, and a vigorous critic of naval administration. In February, 1814, he had been appointed to the 'Tonnant' for the American Station, and it was while he was on a week's leave of absence in London, before sailing, that the stock-jobbing hoax occurred.

During the days February 8-26, 1814, it seemed possible that Napoleon might defeat the Allied Armies, and the Funds were sensitive to every rumour. At midnight on Sunday, February 20, a man calling himself Du Bourg brought news to Admiral Foley, at Dover, that Napoleon had been killed by a party of Cossacks. Hurrying towards London, Du Bourg, whose real name was Berenger, spread the news as he went. Arrived in London soon after daybreak, he went to Cochrane's house, and there changed his uniform. When the Stock Exchange opened at ten on February 21, 1814, the Funds rose rapidly, and among those who sold on the rise was Cochrane. The next day, when the swindle had been discovered, the Stocks fell.

A Stock Exchange Committee sat to investigate the case, and their report (March 7) threw grave suspicion on Cochrane. He, his uncle, Cochrane Johnstone, a Mr. Butt, and Berenger, were indicted for a conspiracy, tried before Lord Ellenborough, June 8-9, and convicted. Cochrane was sentenced to a year's imprisonment and a fine of L1000. On the back of the note for L1000 (still kept in the Bank of England) with which he paid his fine on July 3, 1815, he wrote:

"My health having suffered by long and close confinement, and my
oppressors being resolved to deprive me of property or life, I submit
to robbery to protect myself from murder, in the hope that I shall
live to bring the delinquents to justice."

Cochrane was also expelled from the House of Commons and from the Order of the Bath. There is little doubt that the circumstances were extremely suspicious. Those who wish to form an opinion as to Cochrane's guilt or innocence will find the subject of the trial exhaustively treated in Mr. J.B. Atlay's 'Lord Cochrane's Trial before Lord Ellenborough' (1897).]

[Footnote 2: Henry, Lord Brougham (1778-1868) acknowledged that he wrote the famous article on Byron's 'Hours of Idleness' in the 'Edinburgh Review' (Sir M.E. Grant-Duff's 'Notes from a Diary', vol. ii. p. 189). He lost his seat for Camelford in September, 1812, and did not re-enter the House till July, 1815, when he sat for Winchelsea. In the postscript of a letter written by him to Douglas Kinnaird, December 9, 1814, he speaks of Byron thus:

"Your friend, Lord B., is, in my opinion, a singularly agreeable
person, which is very rarely the case with eminent men. His
independent principles give him a great additional charm."

But the part which Brougham played in the separation, both as counsel and in society, infuriated Byron, who wrote of him in his letters with the utmost bitterness. (See also the passage, now for the first time published, from Byron's 'Detached Thoughts', on his Parliamentary experiences, p. 198, first paragraph of 'note'. [2md paragraph of Footnote 1 of Letter 285])]

[Footnote 3: Dorothy Jordan (1762-1816) first appeared as "Phoebe" in 'As You Like It' at the Crow Street Theatre, Dublin, in 1777. After acting in provincial theatres, she made her 'debut' on the London stage at Drury Lane (October 18, 1785) as "Peggy" in Garrick's 'Country Girl', an expurgated version of Wycherley's 'Country Wife'. During the season she appeared also in six of her best parts: "Miss Hoyden" in 'The Trip to Scarborough', "Priscilla Tomboy" in 'The Romp', "Hypolita" in 'She would and she would not', "Mrs. Brady" in 'The Irish Widow', "Viola" in 'Twelfth Night', and "Rosalind" in 'As You Like It'. Her last appearance on the London stage was as "Lady Teazle" in 'The School for Scandal', at Covent Garden, June 1, 1814. A list of her principal characters is given by Genest ('English Stage', vol. viii. pp. 432-434). As a comic actress, Mrs. Jordan was unrivalled; her voice was perfect; and her natural gaiety irresistible. Sir Joshua Reynolds preferred her to all other actresses as a being "who ran upon the stage as a playground, and laughed from sincere wildness of delight." In genteel comedy, critics like Genest ('English Stage', vol. viii. p. 431) and Leigh Hunt ('Dramatic Essays', ed. 1894, p. 82) agree that she failed, perhaps, as the latter suggests, because she was so "perpetually employed" in "broad and romping characters."

In private life Mrs. Jordan was chiefly known as the mistress of the Duke of Clarence, to whom she bore ten children. She died at St. Cloud, July 3, 1816.

The play acted at Covent Garden, March 10, 1814, was Sheridan's 'Trip to Scarborough', which is a close adaptation of Vanbrugh's 'Relapse'. The performance is thus described in the 'Courier', March 11, 1814:

"Mrs. Jordan, the only 'Miss Hoyden' on the stage, supported that
character with unabated spirit. In every scene, from her soliloquy on
being locked up, which was delivered with extraordinary 'naivete',
both with reference to her tones, her emphasis, and her action, until
the consummation of the piece, the house was shaken by loud and
quick-succeeding peals of laughter. The style in which she expressed
'Hoyden's' rustic arithmetic, 'Now, 'Nursey', if he gives me 'six
hundred pounds' a-year to buy 'pins', what will he give me to buy
petticoats?' was uncommonly fine. The frock waving in her hand, the
backward bound of two or three steps, the gravity of countenance,
induced by a mental glance at the magnitude of the sum, all spoke
expectation, delight, and astonishment."]

[Footnote 4: 'Macbeth', act v. sc. 5.]

[Footnote 5: 'Richard III', act i. sc. 2, line 259.]

[Footnote 6: 'Ibid.', line 253.]

* * * * *

Tuesday, March 15.

Dined yesterday with Rogers, Mackintosh, and Sharpe. Sheridan could not come. Sharpe told several very amusing anecdotes of Henderson, the actor. [1] Stayed till late, and came home, having drunk so much _tea_, that I did not get to sleep till six this morning. R. says I am to be in _this Quarterly_--cut up, I presume, as they "hate us youth." [2] _N'importe_. As Sharpe was passing by the doors of some debating society (the Westminster Forum), in his way to dinner, he saw rubricked on the wall _Scott's_ name and _mine_--"Which the best poet?" being the question of the evening; and I suppose all the Templars and _would-bes_ took our rhymes in vain in the course of the controversy. Which had the greater show of hands, I neither know nor care; but I feel the coupling of the names as a compliment--though I think Scott deserves better company.

Wedderburn Webster called--Lord Erskine, Lord Holland, etc., etc. Wrote to----_The Corsair_ report. She says she don't wonder, since "Conrad is so _like_." It is odd that one, who knows me so thoroughly, should tell me this to my face. However, if she don't know, nobody can.

Mackintosh is, it seems, the writer of the defensive letter in the _Morning Chronicle_. If so, it is very kind, and more than I did for myself.

Told Murray to secure for me Bandello's Italian Novels [3] at the sale to-morrow. To me they will be _nuts_. Redde a satire on myself, called "Anti-Byron," and told Murray to publish it if he liked. The object of the author is to prove me an atheist and a systematic conspirator against law and government. Some of the verse is good; the prose I don't quite understand. He asserts that my "deleterious works" have had "an effect upon civil society, which requires," etc., etc., etc., and his own poetry. It is a lengthy poem, and a long preface, with an harmonious title-page. Like the fly in the fable, I seem to have got upon a wheel which makes much dust; but, unlike the said fly, I do not take it all for my own raising.

A letter from _Bella_, [4] which I answered. I shall be in love with her again if I don't take care.

I shall begin a more regular system of reading soon.

[Footnote 1: John Henderson, the Bath Roscius (1747-1785), without any great personal advantages, was, according to Mrs. Siddons, "a fine actor ... the soul of intelligence." Rogers ('Table-Talk', ed. 1887, p. 110) says,

"Henderson was a truly great actor: his Hamlet and his Falstaff were
equally good. He was a very fine reader too: in his comic readings,
superior, of course, to Mrs. Siddons: his John Gilpin was marvellous."

In Sharp's 'Letters and Essays' (ed. 1834, pp. 16-18) will be found an interesting letter to Henderson, written a few days before his death, giving an account of John Kemble's first appearance on the London boards, in the character of "Hamlet."

"There has not," says Sharp, "been such a first appearance since
yours; yet Nature, though she has been bountiful to him in figure and
feature, has denied him a voice.... You have been so long without a
'brother near the throne,' that it will perhaps be serviceable to you
to be obliged to bestir yourself in Hamlet, Macbeth, Lord Townley, and
Maskwell; but in Lear, Richard, Falstaff, and Benedict, you have
nothing to fear, not-withstanding the known fickleness of the public
and its love of novelty."]

[Footnote 2: 'Henry IV', Part I. act ii. sc. 2.]

[Footnote 3: Matteo Bandello (1480-1562), a native of Piedmont, became in 1550 Bishop of Agen. His 214 tales, in the manner of Boccaccio, were published at Milan (1554-73). In the Catalogue of Byron's books, "sold by auction by Mr. Evans, at his house, No. 26, Pall Mall, on Friday, April 5, 1816, and following day," appears "Bandello, 'Novelle', 8 vol., wanting vol. 9, 'Livorn', 1791."]

[Footnote 4: Miss Milbanke, afterwards Lady Byron.]

* * * * *

Thursday, March 17.

I have been sparring with Jackson for exercise this morning; and mean to continue and renew my acquaintance with the muffles. My chest, and arms, and wind are in very good plight, and I am not in flesh. I used to be a hard hitter, and my arms are very long for my height (5 feet 8 1/2 inches). At any rate, exercise is good, and this the severest of all; fencing and the broad-sword never fatigued me half so much.

Redde the 'Quarrels of Authors' [1] (another sort of _sparring_)--a new work, by that most entertaining and researching writer, Israeli. They seem to be an irritable set, and I wish myself well out of it. "I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat." [2] What the devil had I to do with scribbling? It is too late to inquire, and all regret is useless. But, an it were to do again,--I should write again, I suppose. Such is human nature, at least my share of it;--though I shall think better of myself, if I have sense to stop now. If I have a wife, and that wife has a son--by any body--I will bring up mine heir in the most anti-poetical way--make him a lawyer, or a pirate, or--any thing. But, if he writes too, I shall be sure he is none of mine, and cut him off with a Bank token. Must write a letter--three o'clock.

[Footnote 1: Disraeli's 'Curiosities of Literature', 2 vols. (1807); 'Calamities of Authors', 2 vols. (1812); and 'Quarrels of Authors', 3 vols. (1814), appear in the Sale Catalogue.]

[Footnote 2: 'Henry IV'., Part I. act iv. sc. 2.]

* * * * *

Sunday, March 20.

I intended to go to Lady Hardwicke's, [1] but won't. I always begin the day with a bias towards going to parties; but, as the evening advances, my stimulus fails, and I hardly ever go out--and, when I do, always regret it. This might have been a pleasant one;--at least, the hostess is a very superior woman. Lady Lansdowne's [2] to-morrow--Lady Heathcote's [3] Wednesday. Um!--I must spur myself into going to some of them, or it will look like rudeness, and it is better to do as other people do--confound them!

Redde Machiavel, [4] parts of Chardin, and Sismondi, and Bandello--by starts. Redde the _Edinburgh_, 44, just come out. In the beginning of the article on Edgeworth's _Patronage_, I have gotten a high compliment, I perceive. [5] Whether this is creditable to me, I know not; but it does honour to the editor, because he once abused me. Many a man will retract praise; none but a high-spirited mind will revoke its censure, or _can_ praise the man it has once attacked. I have often, since my return to England, heard Jeffrey most highly commended by those who know him for things independent of his talents. I admire him for _this_--not because he has _praised me_ (I have been so praised elsewhere and abused, alternately, that mere habit has rendered me as indifferent to both as a man at twenty-six can be to any thing), but because he is, perhaps, the _only man_ who, under the relations in which he and I stand, or stood, with regard to each other, would have had the liberality to act thus; none but a great soul dared hazard it. The height on which he stands has not made him giddy;--a little scribbler would have gone on cavilling to the end of the chapter. As to the justice of his panegyric, that is matter of taste. There are plenty to question it, and glad, too, of the opportunity.

Lord Erskine called to-day. He means to carry down his reflections on the war--or rather wars--to the present day. I trust that he will. Must send to Mr. Murray to get the binding of my copy of his pamphlet finished, as Lord E. has promised me to correct it, and add some marginal notes to it. Any thing in his handwriting will be a treasure, which will gather compound interest from years. Erskine has high expectations of Mackintosh's promised History. Undoubtedly it must be a classic, when finished. [6]

Sparred with Jackson again yesterday morning, and shall to-morrow. I feel all the better for it, in spirits, though my arms and shoulders are very stiff from it. Mem. to attend the pugilistic dinner:--Marquess Huntley [7] is in the chair.

Lord Erskine thinks that ministers must be in peril of going out. So much the better for him. To me it is the same who are in or out;--we want something more than a change of ministers, and some day we will have it.

I remember, in riding from Chrisso to Castri (Delphos), along the sides of Parnassus, I saw six eagles in the air. It is uncommon to see so many together; and it was the number--not the species, which is common enough--that excited my attention.

The last bird I ever fired at was an _eaglet_, on the shore of the Gulf of Lepanto, near Vostitza. It was only wounded, and I tried to save it, the eye was so bright; but it pined, and died in a few days; and I never did since, and never will, attempt the death of another bird. I wonder what put these two things into my head just now? I have been reading Sismondi, and there is nothing there that could induce the recollection.