The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals Volume I Part 41

[Footnote 2: At Wymondham.]

CHAPTER IV.

TRAVELS IN ALBANIA, GREECE, ETC.--DEATH OF MRS. BYRON.

1809-1811.

123.--To his Mother.

Falmouth, June 22, 1809.

DEAR MOTHER,--I am about to sail in a few days; probably before this reaches you. Fletcher begged so hard, that I have continued him in my service. If he does not behave well abroad, I will send him back in a _transport_. I have a German servant (who has been with Mr. Wilbraham in Persia before, and was strongly recommended to me by Dr. Butler, of Harrow), Robert and William; [1] they const.i.tute my whole suite. I have letters in plenty:--you shall hear from me at the different ports I touch upon; but you must not be alarmed if my letters miscarry. The Continent is in a fine state--an insurrection has broken out at Paris, and the Austrians are beating Buonaparte--the Tyrolese have risen.

There is a picture of me in oil, to be sent down to Newstead soon. [2]

--I wish the Miss Pigots had something better to do than carry my miniatures to Nottingham to copy. Now they have done it, you may ask them to copy the others, which are greater favourites than my own. As to money matters, I am ruined--at least till Rochdale is sold; and if that does not turn out well, I shall enter into the Austrian or Russian service--perhaps the Turkish, if I like their manners. The world is all before me, and I leave England without regret, and without a wish to revisit any thing it contains, except _yourself_, and your present residence.

Believe me, yours ever sincerely.

P.S.--Pray tell Mr. Rushton his son is well, and doing well; so is Murray, [3] indeed better than I ever saw him; he will be back in about a month. I ought to add the leaving Murray to my few regrets, as his age perhaps will prevent my seeing him again. Robert I take with me; I like him, because, like myself, he seems a friendless animal.

[Footnote 1: Robert Rushton and William Fletcher, the "little page" and "staunch yeoman" of Childe Harold's "Good Night," Canto I. stanza xiii.]

[Footnote 2: By George Sanders.]

[Footnote 3: "Joe" Murray was sent back from Gibraltar, and with him returned the homesick Robert Rushton.

124.--To the Rev. Henry Drury.

Falmouth, June 28, 1809.

MY DEAR DRURY,--We sail to-morrow in the Lisbon packet, having been detained till now by the lack of wind, and other necessaries. These being at last procured, by this time tomorrow evening we shall be embarked on the vide vorld of vaters, vor all the vorld like Robinson Crusoe. The Malta vessel not sailing for some weeks, we have determined to go by way of Lisbon, and, as my servants term it, to see "that there "'Portingale'"--thence to Cadiz and Gibraltar, and so on our old route to Malta and Constantinople, if so be that Captain Kidd, our gallant, or rather gallows, commander, understands plain sailing and Mercator, and takes us on a voyage all according to the chart.

Will you tell Dr. Butler that I have taken the treasure of a servant, Friese, the native of Prussia Proper, into my service from his recommendation? He has been all among the Worshippers of Fire in Persia, and has seen Persepolis and all that.

Hobhouse has made woundy preparations for a book on his return; 100 pens, two gallons of j.a.pan Ink, and several volumes of best blank, is no bad provision for a discerning public. I have laid down my pen, but have promised to contribute a chapter on the state of morals, and a further treatise on the same to be int.i.tuled "..., 'Simplified,... or Proved to be Praiseworthy from Ancient Authors and Modern Practice.'"

Hobhouse further hopes to indemnify himself in Turkey for a life of exemplary chast.i.ty at home. Pray buy his 'Missellingany', as the Printer's Devil calls it. I suppose it is in print by this time.

Providence has interposed in our favour with a fair wind to carry us out of its reach, or he would have hired a Faqui to translate it into the Turcoman lingo.

"The c.o.c.k is crowing, I must be going, And can no more."

'Ghost of Gaffer Thumb'. [1]

Adieu.--Believe me, etc., etc.

[Footnote 1: In Fielding's burlesque tragedy, 'The Tragedy of Tragedies; or the Life and Death of Tom Thumb the Great'(1730), occur the lines--

"Arthur, beware; I must this moment hence, Not frighted by your voice, but by the c.o.c.k's."

The burlesque was altered by Kane O'Hara, and published as performed at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket, in 1805. In this prompt-book version (act i.) appear the lines quoted by Byron.

"'Ghost'. Grizzle's Rebellion, What need I tell you on?

Or by a red cow Tom Thumb devoured?

('c.o.c.k crows') Hark the c.o.c.k crowing!

I must be going: I can no more {'vanishes'}."]

125.--To Francis Hodgson.

Falmouth, June 25, 1809.

MY DEAR HODGSON,--Before this reaches you, Hobhouse, two officers'

wives, three children, two waiting-maids, ditto subalterns for the troops, three Portuguese esquires and domestics, in all nineteen souls, will have sailed in the Lisbon packet, with the n.o.ble Captain Kidd, a gallant commander as ever smuggled an anker of right Nantz.

We are going to Lisbon first, because the Malta packet has sailed, d'ye see?--from Lisbon to Gibraltar, Malta, Constantinople, and "all that," as Orator Henley said, when he put the Church, and "all that,"

in danger. [1]

This town of Falmouth, as you will partly conjecture, is no great ways from the sea. It is defended on the sea-side by tway castles, St. Maws and Pendennis, extremely well calculated for annoying every body except an enemy. St. Maws is garrisoned by an able-bodied person of fourscore, a widower. He has the whole command and sole management of six most unmanageable pieces of ordnance, admirably adapted for the destruction of Pendennis, a like tower of strength on the opposite side of the Channel. We have seen St. Maws, but Pendennis they will not let us behold, save at a distance, because Hobhouse and I are suspected of having already taken St. Maws by a coup de main.

The town contains many Quakers and salt fish--the oysters have a taste of copper, owing to the soil of a mining country--the women (blessed be the Corporation therefor!) are flogged at the cart's tail when they pick and steal, as happened to one of the fair s.e.x yesterday noon. She was pertinacious in her behaviour, and d.a.m.ned the mayor.