by Lord Byron
“Altogether, I think myself justified in thinking the comparison not well founded. I don’t say this out of pique, for Rousseau was a great man; and the thing, if true, were flattering enough; — but I have no idea of being pleased with the chimera.”]
[Footnote 2: The Hon. Mrs. George Byron, ‘née’ Frances Levett, Byron’s great-aunt, widow of the Hon. George Byron, fourth brother of William, fifth Lord Byron.]
101. — To his Mother.
Newstead Abbey, November 2, 1808.
DEAR MOTHER, — If you please, we will forget the things you mention. I have no desire to remember them. When my rooms are finished, I shall be happy to see you; as I tell but the truth, you will not suspect me of evasion. I am furnishing the house more for you than myself, and I shall establish you in it before I sail for India, which I expect to do in March, if nothing particularly obstructive occurs. I am now fitting up the green drawing-room; the red for a bed-room, and the rooms over as sleeping-rooms. They will be soon completed; — at least I hope so.
I wish you would inquire of Major Watson (who is an old Indian) what things will be necessary to provide for my voyage. I have already procured a friend to write to the Arabic Professor at Cambridge, for some information I am anxious to procure. I can easily get letters from government to the ambassadors, consuls, etc., and also to the governors at Calcutta and Madras. I shall place my property and my will in the hands of trustees till my return, and I mean to appoint you one. From Hanson I have heard nothing — when I do, you shall have the particulars.
After all, you must own my project is not a bad one. If I do not travel now, I never shall, and all men should one day or other. I have at present no connections to keep me at home; no wife, or unprovided sisters, brothers, etc. I shall take care of you, and when I return I may possibly become a politician. A few years’ knowledge of other countries than our own will not incapacitate me for that part. If we see no nation but our own, we do not give mankind a fair chance; — it is from experience, not books, we ought to judge of them. There is nothing like inspection, and trusting to our own senses.
Yours, etc.
[Footnote 1: The Rev. John Palmer, Fellow of St. John’s, Adam’s
Professor of Arabic (1804-19).]
102. — To Francis Hodgson.
Newstead Abbey, Notts., Nov. 3, 1808.
My Dear Hodgson, — I expected to have heard ere this the event of your interview with the mysterious Mr. Haynes, my volunteer correspondent; however, as I had no business to trouble you with the adjustment of my concerns with that illustrious stranger, I have no right to complain of your silence.
You have of course seen Drury, in all the pleasing palpitations of anticipated wedlock. Well! he has still something to look forward to, and his present extacies are certainly enviable. “Peace be with him and with his spirit,” and his flesh also, at least just now …
Hobhouse and your humble are still here. Hobhouse hunts, etc., and I do nothing; we dined the other day with a neighbouring Esquire (not Collet of Staines), and regretted your absence, as the Bouquet of Staines was scarcely to be compared to our last “feast of reason.” You know, laughing is the sign of a rational animal; so says Dr. Smollett. I think so, too, but unluckily my spirits don’t always keep pace with my opinions. I had not so much scope for risibility the other day as I could have wished, for I was seated near a woman, to whom, when a boy, I was as much attached as boys generally are, and more than a man should be. I knew this before I went, and was determined to be valiant, and converse with sang froid; but instead I forgot my valour and my nonchalance, and never opened my lips even to laugh, far less to speak, and the lady was almost as absurd as myself, which made both the object of more observation than if we had conducted ourselves with easy indifference. You will think all this great nonsense; if you had seen it, you would have thought it still more ridiculous. What fools we are! We cry for a plaything, which, like children, we are never satisfied with till we break open, though like them we cannot get rid of it by putting it in the fire.
I have tried for Gifford’s Epistle to Pindar, and the bookseller says the copies were cut up for waste paper; if you can procure me a copy I shall be much obliged. Adieu!
Believe me, my dear Sir, yours ever sincerely,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Francis Hodgson (1781-1852), educated at Eton (1794-99) and at King’s College, Cambridge, Scholar (1799), Fellow (1802), hesitated between literature and the bar as his profession. For three years he was a private tutor, for one (1806) a master at Eton. In 1807 he became a resident tutor at King’s. It was not till 1812 that he decided to take orders. Two years later he married Miss Tayler, a sister of Mrs. Henry Drury, and took a country curacy. In 1816 he was given the Eton living of Bakewell, in Derbyshire, became Archdeacon of Derby in 1836, and in 1840 Provost of Eton. At Eton he died December 29, 1852.
Hodgson’s literary facility was extraordinary. He rhymed with an ease which almost rivals that of Byron, and from 1807 to 1818 he poured out quantities of verse, English and Latin, original and translated, besides writing articles for the ‘Quarterly’, the ‘Monthly’, and the ‘Critical’ Reviews. He published his ‘Translation of Juvenal’ in 1807, in which he was assisted by Drury and Merivale; ‘Lady Jane Grey’, a Tale; and other Poems (1809); ‘Sir Edgar, a Tale’ (1810); ‘Leaves of Laurel’ (1812); ‘Charlemagne, an Epic Poem’ (1815), translated from the original of Lucien Bonaparte, Prince of Canino, by S. Butler and Francis Hodgson; ‘The Friends, a Poem in Four Books; Mythology for Versification’ (1831); ‘A Charge, as Archdeacon of Derby’ (1837); ‘Sermons’ (1846); and other works.
His acquaintance with Byron began in 1807, when Byron was meditating ‘British Bards’, and Hodgson, provoked by a review of his ‘Juvenal’ in the ‘Edinburgh Review’, was composing his ‘Gentle Alterative prepared for the Reviewers’, which appears on pp. 56, 57 of ‘Lady Jane Grey’. There are some curious points of resemblance between the two poems, though Hodgson’s lines can hardly be compared for force and sting to ‘English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers’. Like Byron (see ‘English Bards, etc’., line 513, note 7), he makes merry over the blunder of the ‘Edinburgh’ reviewer, who, in an article on Payne Knight’s ‘Principles of Taste’, severely criticized some Greek lines which he attributed to Knight, but which, in fact, were by Pindar: —
”And when he frown’d on Kn — ’s erroneous Greek,
Bad him in Pindar’s page that error seek.”
Like Byron also, he attributes the blunder to Hallam, and speaks of “Hallam’s baffled art.” The article was written by Lord Holland’s physician, Dr. Allen, who, according to Sydney Smith, had “the creed of a philosopher and the legs of a clergyman.” Like Byron also (see ‘English Bards, etc’., line 820), he appeals to Gifford, who was an old family friend, to return to the fray: —
”Oh! for that voice, whose cadence loud and strong
Drove Delia Crusca from the field of song —
And with a force that guiltier fools should feel,
Rack’d a vain butterfly on Satire’s wheel.”
In a note appended to the words in his satire — ”Like clowns detest nobility” — he refers to the ‘Edinburgh’s’ treatment of Byron’s verse.
The link thus established between Byron and Hodgson grew stronger for the next few years. Hodgson suppressed Moore’s challenge to the author of ‘English Bards’; was Byron’s guest at Newstead (see page 179 [Letter 92], in [Foot]note [further down]); pleaded with him on the subject of religion; translated his lines, “I would I were a careless child,” into Latin verse (‘Lady Jane Grey’, p. 94); addressed him in poetry, as, for instance, in the “Lines to a Friend going abroad” (‘Sir Edgar’, p. 173). Byron, on his side, seems to have been sincerely attached to Hodgson, to whom he left, by his first will (1811), one-third of his personal goods, and in 1813 gave £1000 to enable him to marry. Hodgson corresponded with Mrs. Leigh and with Miss Milbanke, afterwards Lady Byron, endeavo
ured to heal the breach between husband and wife, and was one of the mourners at Hucknall Torkard Church.
In Haydon’s ‘Table-Talk’ (vol. ii. pp. 367-8) is recorded a conversation with Hobhouse on the subject of Hodgson. Haydon’s account of Hobhouse’s words is confused; but he definitely asserts that Hodgson’s life was dissipated, and insinuates that he perverted Byron’s character. Part of the explanation is probably this: Hodgson’s friend, the Rev. Robert Bland, kept a mistress, described as a woman of great personal and mental attraction. He asked Hodgson, during his absence on the Continent, to visit the lady and send him frequent news of her. Hodgson did so, with the result that, at Bland’s return, the lady refused to see him. When Byron came back from his Eastern tour, he received a frantic letter from Bland, telling him that Hodgson had stolen her love. To this Byron refers in his letter to Harness, December 15, 1811, and probably told an embellished story to Hobhouse. But Hodgson himself warmly repudiated the charge; and there is no reason to think that his version of the affair is not the truth.]
[Footnote 2: The Rev. Henry Drury married, December 20, 1808, Ann
Caroline, daughter of Archdale Wilson Tayler, of Boreham Wood, Herts.
Their five sons were all educated at Harrow: Henry, Archdeacon of Wilts
and editor of ‘Arundines Cami’ (1841); Byron, Vice-Admiral R.N.;
Benjamin Heath, Vice-President of Caius College, Cambridge; Heber,
Colonel in the Madras Army; Charles Curtis, General of the Bengal Staff
Corps (see also page 41 [Letter 14], [Foot]note 2 ).]
[Footnote 3: Mrs. Chaworth Musters (see Byron’s lines, “Well! thou art happy,” ‘Poems’, vol. i. pp. 277-279).]
[Footnote 4: William Gifford (1756-1826), a self-taught scholar, first a ploughboy, then boy on board a Brixham coaster, afterwards shoemaker’s apprentice, was sent by friends to Exeter College, Oxford (1779-81). In the ‘Baviad’ (1794) and the ‘Maeviad’ (1795) he attacked many of the smaller writers of the day, who were either silly, like the Delia Cruscan school, or discreditable, like Williams, who wrote as “Anthony Pasquin.” In his ‘Epistle to Peter Pindar’ (1800) he succeeds in laying bare the true character of John Wolcot. As editor of the ‘Anti-Jacobin, or Weekly Examiner’ (November, 1797, to July, 1798), he supported the political views of Canning and his friends. As editor of the ‘Quarterly Review’, from its foundation (February, 1809) to his resignation in September, 1824, he did yeoman’s service to sound literature by his good sense and adherence to the best models. It was a period when all criticism was narrow, and, to some degree, warped by political prejudice. In these respects, Gifford’s work may not have risen above — it certainly did not fall below — the highest standard of contemporary criticism. His editions of ‘Massinger’ (1805), which superseded that of Monck Mason and Davies (1765), of ‘Ben Jonson’ (1816), of ‘Ford’ (1827), are valuable. To his translation of ‘Juvenal’ (1802) is prefixed his autobiography. His translation of ‘Persius’ appeared in 1821. To Gifford, Byron usually paid the utmost deference.
“Any suggestion of yours, even if it were conveyed,” he writes to him, in 1813, “in the less tender text of the ‘Baviad,’ or a Monk Mason note to Massinger, would be obeyed.”
See also his letter (September 7, 1811), in which he calls Gifford his
“Magnus Apollo,” and values his praise above the gems of Samarcand.
”He was,” says Sir Walter Scott (‘Diary,’ January 18, 1827), “a little
man, dumpled up together, and so ill-made as to seem almost deformed,
but with a singular expression of talent in his countenance.”
Byron was attracted to Gifford, partly by his devotion to the classical models of literature, partly by the outspoken frankness of his literary criticism, partly also, perhaps, by his physical deformity.
103. — To John Hanson.
Newstead Abbey, Notts., November 18th, 1808.
Dear Sir, — I am truly glad to hear your health is reinstated. As for my affairs I am sure you will do your best, and, though I should be glad to get rid of my Lancashire property for an equivalent in money, I shall not take any steps of that nature without good advice and mature consideration.
I am (as I have already told you) going abroad in the spring; for this I have many reasons. In the first place, I wish to study India and Asiatic policy and manners. I am young, tolerably vigorous, abstemious in my way of living; I have no pleasure in fashionable dissipation, and I am determined to take a wider field than is customary with travellers. If I return, my judgment will be more mature, and I shall still be young enough for politics. With regard to expence, travelling through the East is rather inconvenient than expensive: it is not like the tour of Europe, you undergo hardship, but incur little hazard of spending money. If I live here I must have my house in town, a separate house for Mrs. Byron; I must keep horses, etc., etc. When I go abroad I place Mrs. Byron at Newstead (there is one great expence saved), I have no horses to keep. A voyage to India will take me six months, and if I had a dozen attendants cannot cost me five hundred pounds; and you will agree with me that a like term of months in England would lead me into four times that expenditure. I have written to Government for letters and permission of the Company, so you see I am serious.
You honour my debts; they amount to perhaps twelve thousand pounds, and I shall require perhaps three or four thousand at setting out, with credit on a Bengal agent. This you must manage for me. If my resources are not adequate to the supply I must sell, but not Newstead. I will at least transmit that to the next Lord. My debts must be paid, if possible, in February. I shall leave my affairs to the care of trustees, of whom, with your acquiescence, I shall name you one, Mr. Parker another, and two more, on whom I am not yet determined.
Pray let me hear from you soon. Remember me to Mrs. Hanson, whom I hope to see on her return. Present my best respects to the young lady, and believe me, etc.,
BYRON.
104. — To Francis Hodgson.
Newstead Abbey, Notts., Nov. 27, 1808.
My Dear Sir, — Boatswain is to be buried in a vault waiting for myself. I have also written an epitaph, which I would send, were it not for two reasons: one is, that it is too long for a letter; and the other, that I hope you will some day read it on the spot where it will be engraved.
You discomfort me with the intelligence of the real orthodoxy of the
Arch-fiend’s name, but alas! it must stand with me at present; if
ever I have an opportunity of correcting, I shall liken him to
Geoffrey of Monmouth, a noted liar in his way, and perhaps a more
correct prototype than the Carnifex of James II.
I do not think the composition of your poem “a sufficing reason” for not keeping your promise of a Christmas visit. Why not come? I will never disturb you in your moments of inspiration; and if you wish to collect any materials for the scenery?, Hardwicke (where Mary was confined for several years) is not eight miles distant, and, independent of the interest you must take in it as her vindicator, is a most beautiful and venerable object of curiosity. I shall take it very ill if you do not come; my mansion is improving in comfort, and, when you require solitude, I shall have an apartment devoted to the purpose of receiving your poetical reveries.
I have heard from our Drury; he says little of the Row, which I regret: indeed I would have sacrificed much to have contributed in any way (as a schoolboy) to its consummation; but Butler survives, and thirteen boys have been expelled in vain. Davies is not here, but Hobhouse hunts as usual, and your humble servant “drags at each remove a lengthened chain.” I have heard from his Grace of Portland on the subject of my expedition: he talks of difficulties; by the gods! if he throws any in my way I will next session ring such a peal in his ears,
That he shall wish the fiery
Dane Had rather been his guest again.
You do not tell me if Gifford is really my commentator: it is too good t
o be true, for I know nothing would gratify my vanity so much as the reality; even the idea is too precious to part with.
I shall expect you here; let me have no more excuses. Hobhouse desires his best remembrance. We are now lingering over our evening potations. I have extended my letter further than I ought, and beg you will excuse it; on the opposite page I send you some stanzas I wrote off on being questioned by a former flame as to my motives for quitting this country. You are the first reader. Hobhouse hates everything of the kind, therefore I do not show them to him. Adieu!
Believe me, yours very sincerely,
BYRON.
[Footnote 1: Boatswain, the Newfoundland dog, died November 18, 1808. (For Byron’s inscriptions in prose and verse, see ‘Poems’, vol. i. p. 280.)]
[Footnote 2: Byron at first thought that Jeffrey, the editor of the ‘Edinburgh Review’, spelt his name in the same way as the Judge Jeffreys of the Bloody Assizes. He probably writes “orthodoxy” for “orthography” as a joke. (See the lines quoted from ‘British Bards’ in notes to ‘English. Bards, etc.’, line 439, note 2.)]
[Footnote 3: It is stated that Hodgson was writing a poem on Mary Queen of Scots (‘Life of Rev. Francis Hodgson’, vol. i. p. 107). No such poem was apparently ever published. In Hodgson’s ‘Lady Jane Grey’, Queen Mary of England plays a part; hence, possibly, the mistake.]
[Footnote 4: Byron asked the Duke of Portland to procure him “permission from the E.I. Directors to pass through their settlements.” The duke replied, in effect, that Byron trespassed on his time and patience. So Byron at least took his answer (see ‘English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers,’ line 1016 and note 2).]
[Footnote 5: ‘Marmion’, Canto II. stanza xxxi.]
[Footnote 6: See stanzas “To a Lady on being asked my Reason for