The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals Volume I Part 39

I enclose some lines to be inserted, the first six after "Lords too are bards," etc., or rather immediately following the line:

"Ah! who would take their t.i.tles with their rhymes."

The four next will wind up the panegyric on Lord Carlisle, and come after "tragic stuff." [1]

Yours truly.

In these our times with daily wonders big, A letter'd Peer is like a letter'd Pig: Both know their alphabet, but who from thence Infers that Peers or Pigs have manly sense?

Still less that such should woo the graceful Nine?

Parna.s.sus was not made for Lords and Swine.

Roscommon, Sheffield, etc., etc.

... tragic stuff.

Yet at their judgment let his Lordship laugh, And case his volumes in congenial calf: Yes, doff that covering where morocco shines, "And hang a calf-skin on those recreant" lines.

[Footnote 1: See 'ibid.', lines 736-740.]

116.--To R. C. Dallas.

February 22, 1809.

A cut at the opera.--_Ecce signum_! from last night's observation, and inuendos against the Society for the Suppression of Vice. [1]

The lines will come well in after the couplets concerning Naldi and Catalani! [2]

Yours truly,

BYRON.

[Footnote 1: See 'English Bards, etc.', lines 618-631, note 1, for the "cut at the opera." The piece which provoked the outburst was 'I Villegiatori Rezzani', at the King's Theatre, February 21, 1809.

Guiseppe Naldi (1770-1820) made his 'debut' in London, at the King's Theatre, in April, 1806. (For further details, see 'English Bards, etc.', line 613, note 2.) Angelica Catalani, born at Sinigaglia, in 1779, or, according to some authorities, 1785, came out at Venice, in an opera by Nasolini. She sang in many capitals of Europe, married at Lisbon a French officer named Vallabregue, and came to London in October, 1806. The salary paid her was a cause of the O. P. riots at Covent Garden in 1809, when one of the cries was, "No foreigners! No Catalani!" A series of caricatures, one set by Isaac Cruikshank, and several medals, commemorate the riots. Madame Catalani died at Paris in 1849.]

[Footnote 2: See 'English Bards, etc.', lines 632-637.]

117.--To his Mother.

8, St. James's Street, March 6, 1809.

Dear Mother,--My last letter was written under great depression of spirits from poor Falkland's death, [1] who has left without a shilling four children and his wife. I have been endeavouring to a.s.sist them, which, G.o.d knows, I cannot do as I could wish, for my own embarra.s.sments and the many claims upon me from other quarters.

What you say is all very true: come what may, _Newstead_ and I _stand_ or fall together. I have now lived on the spot, I have fixed my heart upon it, and no pressure, present or future, shall induce me to barter the last vestige of our inheritance. I have that pride within me which will enable me to support difficulties. I can endure privations; but could I obtain in exchange for Newstead Abbey the first fortune in the country, I would reject the proposition. Set your mind at ease on that score; Mr. Hanson talks like a man of business on the subject,--I feel like a man of honour, and I will not sell Newstead.

I shall get my seat [2] on the return of the affidavits from Carhais, in Cornwall, and will do something in the House soon: I must dash, or it is all over. My Satire must be kept secret for a _month_; after that you may say what you please on the subject. Lord Carlisle has used me infamously, and refused to state any particulars of my family to the Chancellor. I have _lashed_ him in my rhymes, and perhaps his lordship may regret not being more conciliatory. They tell me it will have a sale; I hope so, for the bookseller has behaved well, as far as publishing well goes.

Believe me, etc.

P.S.--You shall have a mortgage on one of the farms. [3]

[Footnote 1: Captain Charles John Cary, R.N., succeeded his brother Thomas in 1796 as ninth Lord Falkland. He married, in 1803, Miss Anton, the daughter of a West India merchant. He had been recently dismissed from his ship "on account of some irregularities arising from too free a circulation of the bottle." But he had received a promise of being reinstated, and, in high spirits at the prospect, dined one evening in March, 1809, at Stevens's Coffeehouse, in Bond Street. There he applied to Mr. Powell an offensive nickname. "He lost his life for a joke, and one too he did not make himself" (Medwin, 'Conversations', ed. 1825, p.

66). A challenge resulted. The parties met on Goldar's Green, and Falkland, mortally wounded, died two days later in Powell's house in Devonshire Place, on March 7, 1809. ('Annual Register', vol. li. pp.

449, 450.) For a more detailed account, see 'Gentleman's Magazine' for March, 1809. Both accounts give March 7 as the date of Falkland's death.

A posthumous child was born to Lady Falkland. Byron stood G.o.dfather, and gave 500 at the christening.

[Footnote 2: Byron took his seat in the House of Lords, March 13, 1809.

The delay was caused by the difficulty of proving the marriage of Admiral the Hon. John Byron with Miss Sophia Trevanion in the private chapel of Carhais. Probably Carlisle neither possessed nor withheld any information.]

[Footnote 3: Byron had borrowed 1000 for his return to Cambridge in 1807: 200 from Messrs. Wylde and Co., bankers, of Southwell; and the remainder from the Misses Parkyns, and his great-aunt, the Hon. Mrs.

George Byron. For this debt his mother made herself liable. No mortgage was given (see page 221 [Letter 121], [Foot]note 2 [1]).]

118.--To William Harness.

8, St. James's Street, March 18, 1809.

There was no necessity for your excuses: if you have time and inclination to write, "for what we receive, the Lord make us thankful,"--if I do not hear from you, I console myself with the idea that you are much more agreeably employed.

I send down to you by this post a certain Satire lately published, and in return for the three and sixpence expenditure upon it, only beg that if you should guess the author, you will keep his name secret; at least for the present. London is full of the Duke's business. [1] The Commons have been at it these last three nights, and are not yet come to a decision. I do not know if the affair will be brought before our House, unless in the shape of an impeachment. If it makes its appearance in a debatable form, I believe I shall be tempted to say something on the subject.--I am glad to hear you like Cambridge: firstly, because, to know that you are happy is pleasant to one who wishes you all possible sublunary enjoyment; and, secondly, I admire the morality of the sentiment. _Alma Mater_ was to me _injusta noverca_; and the old beldam only gave me my M.A. degree because she could not avoid it. [2]--You know what a farce a n.o.ble Cantab. must perform.

I am going abroad, if possible, in the spring, and before I depart I am collecting the pictures of my most intimate school-fellows; I have already a few, and shall want yours, or my cabinet will be incomplete.

I have employed one of the first miniature painters [3] of the day to take them, of course, at my own expense, as I never allow my acquaintance to incur the least expenditure to gratify a whim of mine.

To mention this may seem indelicate; but when I tell you a friend of ours first refused to sit, under the idea that he was to disburse on the occasion, you will see that it is necessary to state these preliminaries to prevent the recurrence of any similar mistake. I shall see you in time, and will carry you to the 'limner'. It will be a tax on your patience for a week; but pray excuse it, as it is possible the resemblance may be the sole trace I shall be able to preserve of our past friendship and acquaintance. Just now it seems foolish enough; but in a few years, when some of us are dead, and others are separated by inevitable circ.u.mstances, it will be a kind of satisfaction to retain in these images of the living the idea of our former selves, and, to contemplate, in the resemblances of the dead, all that remains of judgment, feeling, and a host of pa.s.sions. But all this will be dull enough for you, and so good night; and, to end my chapter, or rather my homily,

Believe me, my dear H., yours most affectionately,

[Footnote 1: This was the inquiry into the charges made by Colonel Gwyllym Wardle, M.P. for Okehampton (1807-12), against the Duke of York and his mistress, Mary Ann Clarke. The inquiry began January 27, 1809, and ended March 20, 1809, with the duke's resignation, the Commons having previously (March 17) acquitted him of "personal connivance and corruption."