The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals Volume I Part 17

[Footnote 1: J. M. B. Pigot, eldest brother of Miss E. B. Pigot (see Letter of August 29, 1804, page 32, note 1). To him Byron addressed his "Reply" ('Poems', vol. i. pp. 53-56) and verses "To the Sighing Strephon" ('Ibid'., pp. 63-66). In 1805-6 Pigot was studying medicine at Edinburgh, and in his vacations saw much of Byron. He died at Ruddington, Notts., November 26, 1871, aged 86. It would appear that Byron had, with the connivance of the Pigots, escaped to London, after a quarrel with his mother; but the caution to keep his lodgings secret gives a theatrical air to the letter, as the rooms, kept by Mrs.

Ma.s.singberd, were originally taken by Mrs. Byron, and often occupied by her, and she was at the time corresponding with Hanson about her son's debt to Mrs. Ma.s.singberd, who seems to have been both landlady and money-lender to Byron.]

53.--To Elizabeth Bridget Pigot.

London, August 10, 1806.

MY DEAR BRIDGET,--As I have already troubled your brother with more than he will find pleasure in deciphering, you are the next to whom I shall a.s.sign the employment of perusing this second epistle. You will perceive from my first, that no idea of Mrs. B.'s arrival had disturbed me at the time it was written; _not_ so the present, since the appearance of a note from the _ill.u.s.trious cause_ of my _sudden decampment_ has driven the "natural ruby from my cheeks," and completely blanched my woebegone countenance. This gunpowder intimation of her arrival (confound her activity!) breathes less of terror and dismay than you will probably imagine, from the volcanic temperament of her ladyship; and concludes with the comfortable a.s.surance of _present motion_ being prevented by the fatigue of her journey, for which my _blessings_ are due to the rough roads and restive quadrupeds of his Majesty's highways. As I have not the smallest inclination to be chased round the country, I shall e'en make a merit of necessity; and since, like Macbeth, "they've tied me to the stake, I cannot fly," I shall imitate that valorous tyrant, and bear-like fight the "course," all escape being precluded. I can now engage with less disadvantage, having drawn the enemy from her intrenchments, though, like the _prototype_ to whom I have compared myself, with an excellent chance of being knocked on the head.

However, "lay on Macduff", and "d.a.m.ned be he who first cries, Hold, enough."

I shall remain in town for, at least, a week, and expect to hear from _you_ before its expiration. I presume the printer has brought you the offspring of my _poetic mania_. [1] Remember in the first line to read "_loud_ the winds whistle," instead of "round," which that blockhead Ridge had inserted by mistake, and makes nonsense of the whole stanza.

Addio!--Now to encounter my _Hydra_.

Yours ever.

[Footnote 1: Byron's first volume of verse was now in the press. The line to which he alludes is the first line of the poem, "On Leaving Newstead Abbey" ('Poems', vol. i. pp. 1-4). It now runs--

"Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle."

(For the bibliography of his early poems, see 'Poems', vol. i., Bibliographical Note; and vol. vi., Appendix.) The first collection ('Fugitive Pieces', printed by S. and J. Ridge, Newark, 4to, 1806) was destroyed, with the exception of two copies, by the advice of the Rev.

J. T. Becher (see page 182 [Letter 94], [Foot]note 1 [2]). The second collection ('Poems on Various Occasions', printed by S. and J. Ridge, Newark, 12mo, 1807) was published anonymously. It is to this edition that Letters 60, 61, 65, 67, 68, 69, 70, refer.

In the summer of 1807, 'Poems on Various Occasions' was superseded by the third collection, called 'Hours of Idleness' (printed by S. and J.

Ridge, Newark, 12mo, 1807), published with the author's name. To this edition Letters 76 and 78 refer. 'Hours of Idleness' was reviewed by Lord Brougham ('Notes from a Diary', by Sir M. E. Grant Duff, vol. ii.

p. 189) in the 'Edinburgh Review' for January, 1808.

The fourth and final collection, ent.i.tled 'Poems Original and Translated' (printed by S. and J. Ridge, Newark, 12mo, 1808), was dedicated to the Earl of Carlisle.

54.--To John M. B. Pigot.

London, Sunday, midnight, August 10, 1806.

Dear Pigot,--This _astonishing_ packet will, doubtless, amaze you; but having an idle hour this evening, I wrote the enclosed stanzas, [2]

which I request you will deliver to Ridge, to be printed _separate_ from my other compositions, as you will perceive them to be improper for the perusal of ladies; of course, none of the females of your family must see them. I offer 1000 apologies for the trouble I have given you in this and other instances.

Yours truly.

[Footnote 1: These are probably some silly lines "To Mary," written in the erotic style of Moore's early verse. To the same Mary, of whom nothing is known, are addressed the lines "To Mary, on receiving her Picture" ('Poems', vol. i. pp. 32, 33).]

55.--To John M. B. Pigot.

Piccadilly, August 16, 1806.

I cannot exactly say with Caesar, "Veni, vidi, vici:" however, the most important part of his laconic account of success applies to my present situation; for, though Mrs. Byron took the _trouble_ of "_coming_," and "_seeing_," yet your humble servant proved the _victor_. After an obstinate engagement of some hours, in which we suffered considerable damage, from the quickness of the enemy's fire, they at length retired in confusion, leaving behind the artillery, field equipage, and some prisoners: their defeat is decisive for the present campaign. To speak more intelligibly, Mrs. B. returns immediately, but I proceed, with all my laurels, to Worthing, on the Suss.e.x coast; to which place you will address (to be left at the post office) your next epistle. By the enclosure of a second _gingle of rhyme_, you will probably conceive my muse to be _vastly prolific_; her inserted production was brought forth a few years ago, and found by accident on Thursday among some old papers. I have recopied it, and, adding the proper date, request that it may be printed with the rest of the family. I thought your sentiments on the last bantling would coincide with mine, but it was impossible to give it any other garb, being founded on _facts_. My stay at Worthing will not exceed three weeks, and you may _possibly_ behold me again at Southwell the middle of September.

Will you desire Ridge to suspend the printing of my poems till he hears further from me, as I have determined to give them a new form entirely? This prohibition does not extend to the two last pieces I have sent with my letters to you. You will excuse the _dull vanity_ of this epistle, as my brain is a _chaos_ of absurd images, and full of business, preparations, and projects.

I shall expect an answer with impatience;--believe me, there is nothing at this moment could give me greater delight than your letter.

56.--To John M. B. Pigot.

London, August 18, 1806.

I am just on the point of setting off for Worthing, and write merely to request you will send that _idle scoundrel Charles_ with my horses immediately; tell him I am excessively provoked he has not made his appearance before, or written to inform me of the cause of his delay, particularly as I supplied him with money for his journey. On _no_ pretext is he to postpone his _march_ one day longer; and if, in obedience to the caprices of Mrs. B. (who, I presume, is again spreading desolation through her little monarchy), he thinks proper to disregard my positive orders, I shall not, in future, consider him as my servant. He must bring the surgeon's bill with him, which I will discharge immediately on receiving it. Nor can I conceive the reason of his not acquainting Frank with the state of my unfortunate quadrupeds. Dear Pigot, forgive this _petulant_ effusion, and attribute it to the idle conduct of that _precious_ rascal, who, instead of obeying my injunctions, is sauntering through the streets of that _political Pandemonium_, Nottingham. Present my remembrance to your family and the Leacrofts, and believe me, etc.

P.S.--I delegate to _you_ the unpleasant task of despatching him on his journey--Mrs. B.'s orders to the contrary are not to be attended to: he is to proceed first to London, and then to Worthing, without delay. Every thing I have _left_ must be sent to London. My _Poetics you_ will _pack up_ for the same place, and not even reserve a copy for yourself and sister, as I am about to give them an _entire new form_: when they are complete, you shall have the _first fruits_. Mrs.

B. on no account is to _see_ or touch them. Adieu.

57.--To John M. B. Pigot.

Little Hampton, August 26, 1806.

I this morning received your epistle, which I was obliged to send for to Worthing, whence I have removed to this place, on the same coast, about eight miles distant from the former. You will probably not be displeased with this letter, when it informs you that I am 30,000 richer than I was at our parting, having just received intelligence from my lawyer that a cause has been gained at Lancaster a.s.sizes, [1]

which will be worth that sum by the time I come of age. Mrs. B. is, doubtless, acquainted of this acquisition, though not apprised of its exact _value_, of which she had better be ignorant; for her behaviour under any sudden piece of favourable intelligence, is, if possible, more ridiculous than her detestable conduct on the most trifling circ.u.mstances of an unpleasant nature. You may give my compliments to her, and say that her detaining my servant's things shall only lengthen my absence: for unless they are immediately despatched to 16, Piccadilly, together with those which have been so long delayed, belonging to myself, she shall never again behold my _radiant countenance_ illuminating her gloomy mansion. If they are sent, I may probably appear in less than two years from the date of my present epistle.