Byron: The Last Phase Part 14

The news of Byron's death spread like wildfire through the streets and bazaars of Missolonghi. The whole city seemed stunned by the unexpected blow. Byron's illness had been known, but no one dreamed that it would end so fatally. As Gamba has well said: 'He died in a strange land, and amongst strangers; but more loved, more sincerely wept, he could never have been wherever he had breathed his last.'

On the day of Byron's death, Mavrocordato issued the following proclamation, which forms a real and enduring tribute to the memory of one who, in the prime of life, died in a great cause:

PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT OF WESTERN GREECE.

The present day of festivity and rejoicing is turned into one of sorrow and mourning.

The Lord Noel Byron departed this life at eleven o'clock last night, after an illness of ten days, his death being caused by an inflammatory fever. Such was the effect of his lordship's illness on the public mind, that all cla.s.ses had forgotten their usual recreations of Easter, even before the afflicting end was apprehended.

The loss of this ill.u.s.trious individual is undoubtedly to be deplored by all Greece; but it must be more especially a subject of lamentation at Missolonghi, where his generosity has been so conspicuously displayed, and of which he had even become a citizen, with the ulterior determination of partic.i.p.ating in all the dangers of the war.

Everybody is acquainted with the beneficent acts of his lordship, and none can cease to hail his name as that of a real benefactor.

Until, therefore, the final determination of the National Government be known, and by virtue of the powers with which it has been pleased to invest me, I hereby decree:

1st. To-morrow morning at daylight, 37 minute-guns shall be fired from the grand battery, being the number which corresponds with the age of the ill.u.s.trious deceased.

2nd. All the public offices, even to the tribunals, are to remain closed for three successive days.

3rd. All the shops, except those in which provisions or medicines are sold, will also be shut; and it is strictly enjoined, that every species of public amus.e.m.e.nt and other demonstrations of festivity at Easter may be suspended.

4th. A general mourning will be observed for twenty-one days.

5th. Prayers and a funeral service are to be offered up in all the churches.

(_Signed_) A. MAVROCORDATO.

GIORGIUS PRAIDIS, _Secretary_.

Given at Missolonghi, this 19th day of April, 1824.

At sunrise, on the day following Byron's death, thirty-seven minute-guns were fired from the princ.i.p.al battery; and one of the batteries belonging to the corps immediately under his orders fired a gun every half-hour during the day. We take the following from Gamba's journal:

'_April 21._--For the remainder of this day and the next, a silence, like that of the grave, prevailed over the city. We had intended to perform the funeral ceremony on the 21st, but the continued rain prevented us. On the 22nd, however, we acquitted ourselves of that sad duty, so far as our humble means would permit. In the midst of his own brigade, of the Government troops, and of the whole population, on the shoulders of his own officers, the most precious portion of his honoured remains was carried to the church, where lie the bodies of Marco Bozzari and of General Normann. There we laid them down. The coffin was a rude, ill-constructed chest of wood; a black mantle served for a pall; and over it we placed a helmet and sword, with a crown of laurels. No funeral pomp could have left the impression, nor spoken the feelings, of this simple ceremony. The wretchedness and desolation of the place itself; the wild, half-civilized warriors around us; their deep, unaffected grief; the fond recollections and disappointed hopes; the anxieties and sad presentiments depicted on every countenance, contributed to form a scene more moving, more truly affecting, than perhaps was ever before witnessed round the coffin of a great man.'

Spiridion Tricoupi, a son of one of the Primates of Missolonghi, p.r.o.nounced the funeral oration in the following words, translated from the modern Greek by an inhabitant of Missolonghi:

'Unlooked-for event! Deplorable misfortune! But a short time has elapsed since the people of this deeply suffering country welcomed, with unfeigned joy and open arms, this celebrated individual to their bosoms. To-day, overwhelmed with grief and despair, they bathe his funeral couch with tears of bitterness, and mourn over it with inconsolable affliction. On Easter Sunday, the happy salutation of the day, "Christ is risen," remained but half spoken on the lips of every Greek; and as they met, before even congratulating one another on the return of that joyous day, the universal question was, "How is Lord Byron?" Thousands a.s.sembled in the s.p.a.cious plain outside the city, to commemorate the sacred day, appeared as if they had a.s.sembled for the sole purpose of imploring the Saviour of the world to restore to health him who was a partaker with us in our present struggle for the deliverance of our native land. And how is it possible that any heart should remain unmoved, any lip closed, upon the present occasion? Was ever Greece in greater want of a.s.sistance than when Lord Byron, at the peril of his life, crossed over to Missolonghi? Then, and ever since he has been with us, his liberal hand has been opened to our necessities--necessities which our own poverty would have otherwise rendered irremediable. How many and much greater benefits did we not expect from him! And to-day, alas! to-day, the unrelenting grave closes over him and all our hopes.

'Residing out of Greece, and enjoying all the pleasures and luxuries of Europe, he might have contributed materially to the success of our cause without coming personally amongst us; and this would have been sufficient for us, for the well-proved ability and profound judgment of our Governor, the President of the Senate, would have insured our safety with the means so supplied. But if this was sufficient for us, it was not so for Lord Byron. Destined by Nature to uphold the rights of man whenever he saw them trampled upon; born in a free and enlightened country; early taught, by reading the works of our ancestors, which teach all who can read them, not only what man is, but what he ought to be, and what he may be, he saw the persecuted and enslaved Greek determined to break the heavy chains with which he was bound, and to convert the iron into sharp-edged swords, that he might regain by force what force had torn from him. He came to share our sufferings; a.s.sisting us, not only with his wealth, of which he was profuse; not only with his judgment, of which he has given us so many salutary examples; but with his sword, which he was preparing to unsheath against our barbarous and tyrannical oppressors. He came--according to the testimony of those who were intimate with him--with a determination to die in Greece and for Greece. How, therefore, can we do otherwise than lament with deep sorrow the loss of such a man! How can we do otherwise than bewail it as the loss of the whole Greek nation! Thus far, my friends, you have seen him liberal, generous, courageous, a true Philh.e.l.lenist; and you have seen him as your benefactor. This is indeed a sufficient cause for your tears, but it is not sufficient for his honour. It is not sufficient for the greatness of the undertaking in which he had engaged. He, whose death we are now so deeply deploring, was a man who, in one great branch of literature, gave his name to the age in which we live: the vastness of his genius and the richness of his fancy did not permit him to follow the splendid though beaten track of the literary fame of the ancients; he chose a new road--a road which ancient prejudice had endeavoured, and was still endeavouring, to shut against the learned of Europe: but as long as his writings live, and they must live as long as the world exists, this road will remain always open; for it is, as well as the other, a sure road to true knowledge. I will not detain you at the present time by expressing all the respect and enthusiasm with which the perusal of his writings has always inspired me, and which, indeed, I feel much more powerfully now than at any other period. The learned men of all Europe celebrate him, and have celebrated him; and all ages will celebrate the poet of our age, for he was born for all Europe and for all ages.

'One consideration occurs to me, as striking and true as it is applicable to the present state of our country: listen to it, my friends, with attention, that you may make it your own, and that it may become a generally acknowledged truth. There have been many great and splendid nations in the world, but few have been the epochs of their true glory: one phenomenon, I am inclined to believe, is wanting in the history of these nations, and one the possibility of the appearance of which the all-considering mind of the philosopher has much doubted. Almost all the nations of the world have fallen from the hands of one master into those of another; some have been benefited, others have been injured by the change; but the eye of the historian has not yet seen a nation enslaved by barbarians, and more particularly by barbarians rooted for ages in their soil--has not yet seen, I say, such a people throw off their slavery una.s.sisted and alone. This is the phenomenon; and now, for the first time in the history of the world, we witness it in Greece--yes, in Greece alone!

The philosopher beholds it from afar, and his doubts are dissipated; the historian sees it, and prepares his citation of it as a new event in the fortunes of nations; the statesman sees it, and becomes more observant and more on his guard. Such is the extraordinary time in which we live. My friends, the insurrection of Greece is not an epoch of our nation alone; it is an epoch of all nations: for, as I before observed, it is a phenomenon which stands alone in the political history of nations.

'The great mind of the highly gifted and much lamented Byron observed this phenomenon, and he wished to unite his name with our glory. Other revolutions have happened in his time, but he did not enter into any of them--he did not a.s.sist any of them; for their character and nature were totally different: the cause of Greece alone was a cause worthy of him whom all the learned men of Europe celebrate. Consider then, my friends, consider the time in which you live--in what a struggle you are engaged; consider that the glory of past ages admits not of comparison with yours: the friends of liberty, the philanthropists, the philosophers of all nations, and especially of the enlightened and generous English nation, congratulate you, and from afar rejoice with you; all animate you; and the poet of our age, already crowned with immortality, emulous of your glory, came personally to your sh.o.r.es, that he might, together with yourselves, wash out with his blood the marks of tyranny from our polluted soil.

'Born in the great capital of England, his descent n.o.ble on the side of both his father and his mother, what unfeigned joy did his Philh.e.l.lenic heart feel when our poor city, in token of our grat.i.tude, inscribed his name among the number of her citizens! In the agonies of death--yes, at the moment when eternity appeared before him; as he was lingering on the brink of mortal and immortal life; when all the material world appeared but as a speck in the great works of the Divine Omnipotence; in that awful hour, but two names dwelt upon the lips of this ill.u.s.trious individual, leaving all the world besides--the names of his only and much-beloved daughter, and of Greece: these two names, deeply engraven on his heart, even the moment of death could not efface. "My daughter!" he said; "Greece!" he exclaimed; and his spirit pa.s.sed away. What Grecian heart will not be deeply affected as often as it recalls this moment?

'Our tears, my friends, will be grateful, very grateful, to his shade, for they are the tears of sincere affection; but much more grateful will be our deeds in the cause of our country, which, though removed from us, he will observe from the heavens, of which his virtues have doubtless opened to him the gates. This return alone does he require from us for all his munificence; this reward for his love towards us; this consolation for his sufferings in our cause; and this inheritance for the loss of his invaluable life. When your exertions, my friends, shall have liberated us from the hands which have so long held us down in chains; from the hands which have torn from our arms, our property, our brothers, our children--then will his spirit rejoice, then will his shade be satisfied. Yes, in that blessed hour of our freedom the Archbishop will extend his sacred and free hand, and p.r.o.nounce a blessing over his venerated tomb; the young warrior sheathing his sword, red with the blood of his tyrannical oppressors, will strew it with laurel; the statesman will consecrate it with his oratory; and the poet, resting upon the marble, will become doubly inspired; the virgins of Greece (whose beauty our ill.u.s.trious fellow-citizen Byron has celebrated in many of his poems), without any longer fearing contamination from the rapacious hands of our oppressors, crowning their heads with garlands, will dance round it, and sing of the beauty of our land, which the poet of our age has already commemorated with such grace and truth. But what sorrowful thought now presses upon my mind! My fancy has carried me away; I had pictured to myself all that my heart could have desired; I had imagined the blessing of our Bishops, the hymns, and laurel crowns, and the dance of the virgins of Greece round the tomb of the benefactor of Greece;--but this tomb will not contain his precious remains; the tomb will remain void; but a few days more will his body remain on the face of our land--of his new chosen country; it cannot be given over to our arms; it must be borne to his own native land, which is honoured by his birth.

'Oh daughter! most dearly beloved by him, your arms will receive him; your tears will bathe the tomb which shall contain his body; and the tears of the orphans of Greece will be shed over the urn containing his precious heart, and over all the land of Greece, for all the land of Greece is his tomb. As in the last moments of his life you and Greece were alone in his heart and upon his lips, it was but just that she (Greece) should retain a share of the precious remains.

Missolonghi, his country, will ever watch over and protect with all her strength the urn containing his venerated heart, as a symbol of his love towards us. All Greece, clothed in mourning and inconsolable, accompanies the procession in which it is borne; all ecclesiastical, civil, and military honours attend it; all his fellow-citizens of Missolonghi and fellow-countrymen of Greece follow it, crowning it with their grat.i.tude and bedewing it with their tears; it is blessed by the pious benedictions and prayers of our Archbishop, Bishop, and all our clergy. Learn, n.o.ble lady, learn that chieftains bore it on their shoulders, and carried it to the church; thousands of Greek soldiers lined the way through which it pa.s.sed, with the muzzles of their muskets, which had destroyed so many tyrants, pointed towards the ground, as though they would war against that earth which was to deprive them for ever of the sight of their benefactor;--all this crowd of soldiers, ready at a moment to march against the implacable enemy of Christ and man, surrounded the funeral couch, and swore never to forget the sacrifices made by your father for us, and never to allow the spot where his heart is placed to be trampled upon by barbarous and tyrannical feet. Thousands of Christian voices were in a moment heard, and the temple of the Almighty resounded with supplications and prayers that his venerated remains might be safely conveyed to his native land, and that his soul might repose where the righteous alone find rest.'

'When the funeral service was over,' says Gamba, 'we left the bier in the middle of the church, where it remained until the evening of the next day, guarded by a detachment of his own brigade. The church was crowded without cessation by those who came to honour and to regret the benefactor of Greece.

'On the evening of the 23rd the bier was privately carried back by Byron's officers to his own house. The coffin was not closed until the 29th April.

'Immediately after death Byron's countenance had an air of calmness, mingled with a severity that seemed gradually to soften. When I took a last look at him, the expression, at least to my eyes, was truly sublime.'

Soon after death, Byron's body was embalmed, and a report of the autopsy will be found in the Appendix.

Millingen says:

'Before we proceeded to embalm the body, we could not refrain from pausing to contemplate the lifeless clay of one who, but a few days before, was the hope of a whole nation, and the admiration of the civilized world. We could not but admire the perfect symmetry of his body. Nothing could surpa.s.s the beauty of his forehead; its height was extraordinary, and the protuberances under which the n.o.bler intellectual faculties are supposed to reside were strongly p.r.o.nounced. His hair, which curled naturally, was quite grey; the mustachios light-coloured. His physiognomy had suffered little alteration, and still preserved the sarcastic, haughty expression which habitually characterized it. The chest was broad, high-vaulted; the waist very small; the muscular system well p.r.o.nounced; the skin delicate and white; and the habit of the body plump. The only blemish of his body, which might otherwise have vied with that of Apollo himself, was the congenital malconformation of his _left_ foot and leg. The foot was deformed and turned inwards, and the leg was smaller and shorter than the sound one.'[25]

Trelawny arrived at Missolonghi on April 24, after the body had been embalmed. He states that Byron's right leg was shorter than the other, and the _right_ foot was the most distorted, being twisted inwards, so that only the edge could have touched the ground. The discrepancy between Trelawny's statement and that of Millingen is probably due to the fact that nearly thirty-four years had pa.s.sed before Trelawny's book was written.

Trelawny wrote, from Fletcher's dictation, full particulars of Byron's last illness and death. It is presumably from these notes that Trelawny drafted his letter to Colonel Stanhope, dated April 28, 1814. In reference to that letter, Gamba says:

'The details there given of Lord Byron's last illness and death are not quite correct. But where Mr. Trelawny speaks of the general impression produced by that lamentable event, he pathetically describes what is recognized for truth by all those who were witnesses of the melancholy scene.'

As Trelawny was not present during the illness and death of Byron, he cannot be held responsible for any inaccuracies that may appear in his 'Records.' He merely wrote from Fletcher's dictation, without adding one word of his own.

On Fletcher's return to England, he gave the following evidence:

'My master continued his usual custom of riding daily, when the weather would permit, until the 9th of April. But on that ill-fated day he got very wet, and on his return home his lordship changed the whole of his dress; but he had been too long in his wet clothes, and the cold, of which he had complained more or less ever since we left Cephalonia, made this attack be more severely felt. Though rather feverish during the night, his lordship slept pretty well, but complained in the morning of a pain in his bones and a headache: this did not, however, prevent him from taking a ride in the afternoon, which, I grieve to say, was his last. On his return, my master said that the saddle was not perfectly dry, from being so wet the day before, and observed that he thought it had made him worse. His lordship was again visited by the same slow fever, and I was sorry to perceive, on the next morning, that his illness appeared to be increasing. He was very low, and complained of not having had any sleep during the night. His lordship's appet.i.te was also quite gone. I prepared a little arrowroot, of which he took three or four spoonfuls, saying it was very good, but could take no more. It was not till the third day, the 12th, that I began to be alarmed for my master. In all his former colds he always slept well, and was never affected by this slow fever. I therefore went to Dr. Bruno and Mr. Millingen, the two medical attendants, and inquired minutely into every circ.u.mstance connected with my master's present illness: both replied that there was no danger, and I might make myself perfectly easy on the subject, for all would be well in a few days. This was on the 13th. On the following day I found my master in such a state, that I could not feel happy without supplicating that he would send to Zante for Dr. Thomas.

After expressing my fears lest his lordship should get worse, he desired me to consult the doctors; which I did, and was told there was no occasion for calling in any person, as they hoped all would be well in a few days. Here I should remark that his lordship repeatedly said, in the course of the day, he was sure the doctors did not understand his disease; to which I answered, "Then, my lord, have other advice, by all means." "They tell me," said his lordship, "that it is only a common cold, which, you know, I have had a thousand times." "I am sure, my lord," said I, "that you never had one of so serious a nature." "I think I never had," was his lordship's answer. I repeated my supplications that Dr. Thomas should be sent for on the 15th, and was again a.s.sured that my master would be better in two or three days.

After these confident a.s.surances, I did not renew my entreaties until it was too late.

'With respect to the medicines that were given to my master, I could not persuade myself that those of a strong purgative nature were the best adapted for his complaint, concluding that, as he had nothing on his stomach, the only effect would be to create pain: indeed, this must have been the case with a person in perfect health. The whole nourishment taken by my master, for the last eight days, consisted of a small quant.i.ty of broth at two or three different times, and two spoonfuls of arrowroot on the 18th, the day before his death. The first time I heard of there being any intention of bleeding his lordship was on the 15th, when it was proposed by Dr. Bruno, but objected to at first by my master, who asked Mr. Millingen if there was any very great reason for taking blood. The latter replied that it might be of service, but added that it could be deferred till the next day; and accordingly my master was bled in the right arm on the evening of the 16th, and a pound of blood was taken. I observed at the time that it had a most inflamed appearance. Dr. Bruno now began to say he had frequently urged my master to be bled, but that he always refused. A long dispute now arose about the time that had been lost, and the necessity of sending for medical a.s.sistance to Zante; upon which I was informed, for the first time, that it would be of no use, as my master would be better, or no more, before the arrival of Dr.

Thomas. His lordship continued to get worse: but Dr. Bruno said he thought letting blood again would save his life; and I lost no time in telling my master how necessary it was to comply with the doctor's wishes. To this he replied by saying he feared they knew nothing about his disorder; and then, stretching out his arm, said, "Here, take my arm, and do whatever you like." His lordship continued to get weaker; and on the 17th he was bled twice in the morning, and at two o'clock in the afternoon. The bleeding at both times was followed by fainting fits, and he would have fallen down more than once had I not caught him in my arms. In order to prevent such an accident, I took care not to let his lordship stir without supporting him. On this day my master said to me twice, "I cannot sleep, and you well know I have not been able to sleep for more than a week: I know," added his lordship, "that a man can only be a certain time without sleep, and then he must go mad, without anyone being able to save him; and I would ten times sooner shoot myself than be mad, for I am not afraid of dying--I am more fit to die than people think." I do not, however, believe that his lordship had any apprehension of his fate till the day after, the 18th, when he said, "I fear you and t.i.ta will be ill by sitting up constantly night and day." I answered, "We shall never leave your lordship till you are better." As my master had a slight fit of delirium on the 16th, I took care to remove the pistols and stiletto which had hitherto been kept at his bedside in the night. On the 18th his lordship addressed me frequently, and seemed to be very much dissatisfied with his medical treatment. I then said, "Do allow me to send for Dr. Thomas," to which he answered, "Do so, but be quick. I am sorry I did not let you do so before, as I am sure they have mistaken my disease. Write yourself, for I know they would not like to see other doctors here."

'I did not lose a moment in obeying my master's orders; and on informing Dr. Bruno and Mr. Millingen of it, they said it was very right, as they now began to be afraid themselves. On returning to my master's room, his first words were, "Have you sent?" "I have, my lord," was my answer; upon which he said, "You have done right, for I should like to know what is the matter with me." Although his lordship did not appear to think his dissolution was so near, I could perceive he was getting weaker every hour, and he even began to have occasional fits of delirium. He afterwards said, "I now begin to think I am seriously ill; and, in case I should be taken off suddenly, I wish to give you several directions, which I hope you will be particular in seeing executed." I answered I would, in case such an event came to pa.s.s, but expressed a hope that he would live many years to execute them much better himself than I could. To this my master replied, "No, it is now nearly over," and then added, "I must tell you all without losing a moment." I then said, "Shall I go, my lord, and fetch pen, ink, and paper?" "Oh, my G.o.d! no, you will lose too much time; and I have it not to spare, for my time is now short," said his Lordship; and immediately after, "Now, pay attention." His lordship commenced by saying, "You will be provided for." I begged him, however, to proceed with things of more consequence. He then continued, "Oh, my poor dear child!--my dear Ada! My G.o.d! could I but have seen her! Give her my blessing--and my dear sister Augusta and her children;--and you will go to Lady Byron, and say--tell her everything;--you are friends with her." His lordship appeared to be greatly affected at this moment.

Here my master's voice failed him, so that I could only catch a word at intervals; but he kept muttering something very seriously for some time, and would often raise his voice and say, "Fletcher, now, if you do not execute every order which I have given you, I will torment you hereafter if possible." Here I told his lordship, in a state of the greatest perplexity, that I had not understood a word of what he said; to which he replied, "Oh, my G.o.d! then all is lost, for it is now too late! Can it be possible you have not understood me?" "No, my lord,"

said I, "but I pray you to try and inform me once more." "How can I?"

rejoined my master; "it is now too late, and all is over!" I said, "Not our will, but G.o.d's be done!" and he answered, "Yes, not mine be done--but I will try." His lordship did indeed make several efforts to speak, but could only repeat two or three words at a time, such as "My wife! my child! my sister! You know all--you must say all--you know my wishes." The rest was quite unintelligible.

'A consultation was now held about noon, when it was determined to administer some Peruvian bark and wine. My master had now been nine days without any sustenance whatever, except what I have already mentioned. With the exception of a few words which can only interest those to whom they were addressed, and which, if required, I shall communicate to themselves, it was impossible to understand anything his lordship said after taking the bark. He expressed a wish to sleep.

I at one time asked whether I should call Mr. Parry; to which he replied, "Yes, you may call him." Mr. Parry desired him to compose himself. He shed tears, and apparently sunk into a slumber. Mr. Parry went away, expecting to find him refreshed on his return; but it was the commencement of the lethargy preceding his death. The last words I heard my master utter were at six o'clock on the evening of the 18th, when he said, "I must sleep now"; upon which he laid down never to rise again!--for he did not move hand or foot during the following twenty-four hours. His lordship appeared, however, to be in a state of suffocation at intervals, and had a frequent rattling in the throat.

On these occasions I called t.i.ta to a.s.sist me in raising his head, and I thought he seemed to get quite stiff. The rattling and choking in the throat took place every half-hour; and we continued to raise his head whenever the fit came on, till six o'clock in the evening of the 19th, when I saw my master open his eyes and then shut them, but without showing any symptom of pain, or moving hand or foot. "Oh, my G.o.d!" I exclaimed, "I fear his lordship is gone." The doctors then felt his pulse, and said, "You are right--he is gone."'

Dr. Bruno's answer to the above statement will be found in the Appendix.

CHAPTER XVI