by Thomas Moore
“As I have recently troubled you rather frequently, I will conclude, repeating that I am
“Yours ever,” &c.
LETTER 299. TO MR. MURRAY.
“October 12. 1817.
“Mr. Kinnaird and his brother, Lord Kinnaird, have been here, and are now gone again. All your missives came, except the tooth-powder, of which I request further supplies, at all convenient opportunities; as also of magnesia and soda-powders, both great luxuries here, and neither to be had good, or indeed hardly at all, of the natives. * * *
“In * *’s Life, I perceive an attack upon the then Committee of D.L. Theatre for acting Bertram, and an attack upon Maturin’s Bertram for being acted. Considering all things, this is not very grateful nor graceful on the part of the worthy autobiographer; and I would answer, if I had not obliged him. Putting my own pains to forward the views of * * out of the question, I know that there was every disposition, on the part of the Sub-Committee, to bring forward any production of his, were it feasible. The play he offered, though poetical, did not appear at all practicable, and Bertram did; — and hence this long tirade, which is the last chapter of his vagabond life.
“As for Bertram, Maturin may defend his own begotten, if he likes it well enough; I leave the Irish clergyman and the new Orator Henley to battle it out between them, satisfied to have done the best I could for both. I may say this to you, who know it.
“Mr. * * may console himself with the fervour, — the almost religious fervour of his and W * *’s disciples, as he calls it. If he means that as any proof of their merits, I will find him as much ‘fervour’ in behalf of Richard Brothers and Joanna Southcote as ever gathered over his pages or round his fire-side.
“My answer to your proposition about the fourth Canto you will have received, and I await yours; — perhaps we may not agree. I have since written a poem (of 84 octave stanzas), humorous, in or after the excellent manner of Mr. Whistlecraft (whom I take to be Frere), on a Venetian anecdote which amused me: — but till I have your answer, I can say nothing more about it.
“Mr. Hobhouse does not return to England in November, as he intended, but will winter here and as he is to convey the poem, or poems, — for there may perhaps be more than the two mentioned, (which, by the way, I shall not perhaps include in the same publication or agreement,) I shall not be able to publish so soon as expected; but I suppose there is no harm in the delay.
“I have signed and sent your former copyrights by Mr. Kinnaird, but not the receipt, because the money is not yet paid. Mr. Kinnaird has a power of attorney to sign for me, and will, when necessary.
“Many thanks for the Edinburgh Review, which is very kind about Manfred, and defends its originality, which I did not know that any body had attacked. I never read, and do not know that I ever saw, the ‘Faustus of Marlow,’ and had, and have, no dramatic works by me in English, except the recent things you sent me; but I heard Mr. Lewis translate verbally some scenes of Goethe’s Faust (which were, some good, and some bad) last summer; — which is all I know of the history of that magical personage; and as to the germs of Manfred, they may be found in the Journal which I sent to Mrs. Leigh (part of which you saw) when I went over first the Dent de Jaman, and then the Wengen or Wengeberg Alp and Sheideck, and made the giro of the Jungfrau, Shreckhorn, &c. &c. shortly before I left Switzerland. I have the whole scene of Manfred before me as if it was but yesterday, and could point it out, spot by spot, torrent and all.
“Of the Prometheus of Æschylus I was passionately fond as a boy (it was one of the Greek plays we read thrice a year at Harrow); — indeed that and the ‘Medea’ were the only ones, except the ‘Seven before Thebes,’ which ever much pleased me. As to the ‘Faustus of Marlow,’ I never read, never saw, nor heard of it — at least, thought of it, except that I think Mr. Gifford mentioned, in a note of his which you sent me, something about the catastrophe; but not as having any thing to do with mine, which may or may not resemble it, for any thing I know.
“The Prometheus, if not exactly in my plan, has always been so much in my head, that I can easily conceive its influence over all or any thing that I have written; — but I deny Marlow and his progeny, and beg that you will do the same.
“If you can send me the paper in question, which the Edinburgh Review mentions, do. The review in the magazine you say was written by Wilson? it had all the air of being a poet’s, and was a very good one. The Edinburgh Review I take to be Jeffrey’s own by its friendliness. I wonder they thought it worth while to do so, so soon after the former; but it was evidently with a good motive.
“I saw Hoppner the other day, whose country-house at Este I have taken for two years. If you come out next summer, let me know in time. Love to Gifford.
“Yours ever truly.
“Crabbe, Malcolm, Hamilton, and Chantrey, Are all partakers of my pantry.
These two lines are omitted in your letter to the doctor, after —
“All clever men who make their way.”
LETTER 300. TO MR. MURRAY.
“Venice, October 23. 1817.
“Your two letters are before me, and our bargain is so far concluded. How sorry I am to hear that Gifford is unwell! Pray tell me he is better: I hope it is nothing but cold. As you say his illness originates in cold, I trust it will get no further.
“Mr. Whistlecraft has no greater admirer than myself: I have written a story in 89 stanzas, in imitation of him, called Beppo, (the short name for Giuseppe, that is, the Joe of the Italian Joseph,) which I shall throw you into the balance of the fourth Canto, to help you round to your money; but you perhaps had better publish it anonymously; but this we will see to by and by.
“In the Notes to Canto fourth, Mr. Hobhouse has pointed out several errors of Gibbon. You may depend upon H.’s research and accuracy. You may print it in what shape you please.
“With regard to a future large edition, you may print all, or any thing, except ‘English Bards,’ to the republication of which at no time will I consent. I would not reprint them on any consideration. I don’t think them good for much, even in point of poetry; and, as to other things, you are to recollect that I gave up the publication on account of the Hollands, and I do not think that any time or circumstances can neutralise the suppression. Add to which, that, after being on terms with almost all the bards and critics of the day, it would be savage at any time, but worst of all now, to revive this foolish lampoon.
“The review of Manfred came very safely, and I am much pleased with it. It is odd that they should say (that is somebody in a magazine whom the Edinburgh controverts) that it was taken from Marlow’s Faust, which I never read nor saw. An American, who came the other day from Germany, told Mr. Hobhouse that Manfred was taken from Goethe’s Faust. The devil may take both the Faustuses, German and English — I have taken neither.
“Will you send to Hanson, and say that he has not written since 9th September? — at least I have had no letter since, to my great surprise.
“Will you desire Messrs. Morland to send out whatever additional sums have or may be paid in credit immediately, and always to their Venice correspondents? It is two months ago that they sent me out an additional credit for one thousand pounds. I was very glad of it, but I don’t know how the devil it came; for I can only make out 500 of Hanson’s payment, and I had thought the other 500 came from you; but it did not, it seems, as, by yours of the 7th instant, you have only just paid the 1230l. balance.
“Mr. Kinnaird is on his way home with the assignments. I can fix no time for the arrival of Canto fourth, which depends on the journey of Mr. Hobhouse home; and I do not think that this will be immediate.
“Yours in great haste and very truly,
“B.
“P.S. Morlands have not yet written to my bankers apprising the payment of your balances: pray desire them to do so.
“Ask them about the previous thousand — of which I know 500 came from Hanson’s — and make out the other 500 — that is, whence it came.”
LETTER 301. TO MR. MURRAY.
“Venice, November 15. 1817.
“Mr. Kinnaird has probably returned to England by this time, and will have conveyed to you any tidings you may wish to have of us and ours. I have come back to Venice for the winter. Mr. Hobhouse will probably set off in December, but what day or week I know not. He is my opposite neighbour at present.
“I wrote yesterday in some perplexity, and no very good humour, to Mr. Kinnaird, to inform me about Newstead and the Hansons, of which and whom I hear nothing since his departure from this place, except in a few unintelligible words from an unintelligible woman.
“I am as sorry to hear of Dr. Polidori’s accident as one can be for a person for whom one has a dislike, and something of contempt. When he gets well, tell me, and how he gets on in the sick line. Poor fellow! how came he to fix there?
“I fear the Doctor’s skill at Norwich Will hardly salt the Doctor’s porridge.
Methought he was going to the Brazils to give the Portuguese physic (of which they are fond to desperation) with the Danish consul.
“Your new Canto has expanded to one hundred and sixty-seven stanzas. It will be long, you see; and as for the notes by Hobhouse, I suspect they will be of the heroic size. You must keep Mr. * * in good humour, for he is devilish touchy yet about your Review and all which it inherits, including the editor, the Admiralty, and its bookseller. I used to think that I was a good deal of an author in amour propre and noli me tangere; but these prose fellows are worst, after all, about their little comforts.
“Do you remember my mentioning, some months ago, the Marquis Moncada — a Spaniard of distinction and fourscore years, my summer neighbour at La Mira? Well, about six weeks ago, he fell in love with a Venetian girl of family, and no fortune or character; took her into his mansion; quarrelled with all his former friends for giving him advice (except me who gave him none), and installed her present concubine and future wife and mistress of himself and furniture. At the end of a month, in which she demeaned herself as ill as possible, he found out a correspondence between her and some former keeper, and after nearly strangling, turned her out of the house, to the great scandal of the keeping part of the town, and with a prodigious éclat, which has occupied all the canals and coffee-houses in Venice. He said she wanted to poison him; and she says — God knows what; but between them they have made a great deal of noise. I know a little of both the parties: Moncada seemed a very sensible old man, a character which he has not quite kept up on this occasion; and the woman is rather showy than pretty. For the honour of religion, she was bred in a convent, and for the credit of Great Britain, taught by an Englishwoman.
“Yours,” &c.
LETTER 302. TO MR. MURRAY.
“Venice, December 3. 1817.
“A Venetian lady, learned and somewhat stricken in years, having, in her intervals of love and devotion, taken upon her to translate the Letters and write the Life of Lady Mary Wortley Montague, — to which undertaking there are two obstacles, firstly, ignorance of English, and, secondly, a total dearth of information on the subject of her projected biography, has applied to me for facts or falsities upon this promising project. Lady Montague lived the last twenty or more years of her life in or near Venice, I believe; but here they know nothing, and remember nothing, for the story of to-day is succeeded by the scandal of to-morrow; and the wit, and beauty, and gallantry, which might render your countrywoman notorious in her own country, must have been here no great distinction — because the first is in no request, and the two latter are common to all women, or at least the last of them. If you can therefore tell me any thing, or get any thing told, of Lady Wortley Montague, I shall take it as a favour, and will transfer and translate it to the ‘Dama’ in question. And I pray you besides to send me, by some quick and safe voyager, the edition of her Letters, and the stupid Life, by Dr. Dallaway, published by her proud and foolish family.
“The death of the Princess Charlotte has been a shock even here, and must have been an earthquake at home. The Courier’s list of some three hundred heirs to the crown (including the house of Wirtemberg, with that * * *, P —— , of disreputable memory, whom I remember seeing at various balls during the visit of the Muscovites, &c. in 1814) must be very consolatory to all true lieges, as well as foreigners, except Signor Travis, a rich Jew merchant of this city, who complains grievously of the length of British mourning, which has countermanded all the silks which he was on the point of transmitting, for a year to come. The death of this poor girl is melancholy in every respect, dying at twenty or so, in childbed — of a boy too, a present princess and future queen, and just as she began to be happy, and to enjoy herself, and the hopes which she inspired.
“I think, as far as I can recollect, she is the first royal defunct in childbed upon record in our history. I feel sorry in every respect — for the loss of a female reign, and a woman hitherto harmless; and all the lost rejoicings, and addresses, and drunkenness, and disbursements, of John Bull on the occasion.
“The Prince will marry again, after divorcing his wife, and Mr. Southey will write an elegy now, and an ode then; the Quarterly will have an article against the press, and the Edinburgh an article, half and half, about reform and right of divorce; the British will give you Dr. Chalmers’s funeral sermon much commended, with a place in the stars for deceased royalty; and the Morning Post will have already yelled forth its ‘syllables of dolour.’
“Woe, woe, Nealliny! — the young Nealliny!
“It is some time since I have heard from you: are you in bad humour? I suppose so. I have been so myself, and it is your turn now, and by and by mine will come round again. Yours truly,
“B.
“P.S. Countess Albrizzi, come back from Paris, has brought me a medal of himself, a present from Denon to me, and a likeness of Mr. Rogers (belonging to her), by Denon also.”
LETTER 303. TO MR. HOPPNER.
“Venice, December 15. 1817.
“I should have thanked you before, for your favour a few days ago, had I not been in the intention of paying my respects, personally, this evening, from which I am deterred by the recollection that you will probably be at the Count Goess’s this evening, which has made me postpone my intrusion.
“I think your Elegy a remarkably good one, not only as a composition, but both the politics and poetry contain a far greater portion of truth and generosity than belongs to the times, or to the professors of these opposite pursuits, which usually agree only in one point, as extremes meet. I do not know whether you wished me to retain the copy, but I shall retain it till you tell me otherwise; and am very much obliged by the perusal.
“My own sentiments on Venice, &c., such as they are, I had already thrown into verse last summer, in the fourth Canto of Childe Harold, now in preparation for the press; and I think much more highly of them, for being in coincidence with yours.
“Believe me yours,” &c.
LETTER 304. TO MR. MURRAY.
“Venice, January 8. 1818.
“My dear Mr. Murray, You’re in a damn’d hurry To set up this ultimate Canto; But (if they don’t rob us) You’ll see Mr. Hobhouse Will bring it safe in his portmanteau.
“For the Journal you hint of, As ready to print off, No doubt you do right to commend it; But as yet I have writ off The devil a bit of Our ‘Beppo;’ — when copied, I’ll send it.
“Then you’ve * * * Tour, — No great things, so be sure, You could hardly begin with a less work; For the pompous rascallion, Who don’t speak Italian Nor French, must have scribbled by guess-work.
“You can make any loss up With ‘Spence’ and his gossip, A work which must surely succeed; Then Queen Mary’s Epistle-craft, With the new ‘Fytte’ of ‘Whistlecraft,’ Must make people purchase and read.
“Then you’ve General Gordon, Who girded his sword on, To serve with a Muscovite master, And help him to polish A nation so owlish, They thought shaving their beards a disaster.
“For the man, ‘poor and shrewd,’ With
whom you’d conclude A compact without more delay, Perhaps some such pen is Still extant in Venice; But please, sir, to mention your pay.”
LETTER 305. TO MR. MURRAY.
“Venice, January 19. 1818.
“I send you the Story in three other separate covers. It won’t do for your Journal, being full of political allusions. Print alone, without name; alter nothing; get a scholar to see that the Italian phrases are correctly published, (your printing, by the way, always makes me ill with its eternal blunders, which are incessant,) and God speed you. Hobhouse left Venice a fortnight ago, saving two days. I have heard nothing of or from him.
“Yours, &c.
“He has the whole of the MSS.; so put up prayers in your back shop, or in the printer’s ‘Chapel.’”
LETTER 306. TO MR. MURRAY.
“Venice, January 27. 1818.
“My father — that is, my Armenian father, Padre Pasquali — in the name of all the other fathers of our Convent, sends you the enclosed, greeting.
“Inasmuch as it has pleased the translators of the long-lost and lately-found portions of the text of Eusebius to put forth the enclosed prospectus, of which I send six copies, you are hereby implored to obtain subscribers in the two Universities, and among the learned, and the unlearned who would unlearn their ignorance — This they (the Convent) request, I request, and do you request.
“I sent you Beppo some weeks agone. You must publish it alone; it has politics and ferocity, and won’t do for your isthmus of a Journal.