Thomas Moore - Life of Lord Byron, Vol. IV

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LIFE

OF

LORD BYRON:

WITH HIS LETTERS AND JOURNALS.

BY THOMAS MOORE, ESQ.

IN SIX VOLUMES.--VOL. IV.

NEW EDITION.

LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 1854.

CONTENTS OF VOL. IV

LETTERS AND JOURNALS OF LORD BYRON, WITH NOTICES OF HIS LIFE, from
April, 1817, to October, 1820.

NOTICES

OF THE

LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

LETTER 272. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Venice, April 9. 1817.

"Your letters of the 18th and 20th are arrived. In my own I have
given you the rise, progress, decline, and fall, of my recent
malady. It is gone to the devil: I won't pay him so bad a
compliment as to say it came from him;--he is too much of a
gentleman. It was nothing but a slow fever, which quickened its
pace towards the end of its journey. I had been bored with it some
weeks--with nocturnal burnings and morning perspirations; but I am
quite well again, which I attribute to having had neither medicine
nor doctor thereof.

"In a few days I set off for Rome: such is my purpose. I shall
change it very often before Monday next, but do you continue to
direct and address to _Venice_, as heretofore. If I go, letters
will be forwarded: I say '_if_,' because I never know what I shall
do till it is done; and as I mean most firmly to set out for Rome,
it is not unlikely I may find myself at St. Petersburg.

"You tell me to 'take care of myself;'--faith, and I will. I won't
be posthumous yet, if I can help it. Notwithstanding, only think
what a 'Life and Adventures,' while I am in full scandal, would be
worth, together with the 'membra' of my writing-desk, the sixteen
beginnings of poems never to be finished! Do you think I would not
have shot myself last year, had I not luckily recollected that Mrs.
C * * and Lady N * *, and all the old women in England would have
been delighted;--besides the agreeable 'Lunacy,' of the 'Crowner's
Quest,' and the regrets of two or three or half a dozen? Be assured
that I _would live_ for two reasons, or more;--there are one or two
people whom I have to put out of the world, and as many into it,
before I can 'depart in peace;' if I do so before, I have not
fulfilled my mission. Besides, when I turn thirty, I will turn
devout; I feel a great vocation that way in Catholic churches, and
when I hear the organ.

"So * * is writing again! Is there no Bedlam in Scotland? nor
thumb-screw? nor gag? nor hand-cuff? I went upon my knees to him
almost, some years ago, to prevent him from publishing a political
pamphlet, which would have given him a livelier idea of 'Habeas
Corpus' than the world will derive from his present production upon
that suspended subject, which will doubtless be followed by the
suspension of other of his Majesty's subjects.

"I condole with Drury Lane and rejoice with * *,--that is, in a
modest way,--on the tragical end of the new tragedy.

"You and Leigh Hunt have quarrelled then, it seems? I introduce him
and his poem to you, in the hope that (malgre politics) the union
would be beneficial to both, and the end is eternal enmity; and yet
I did this with the best intentions: I introduce * * *, and * * *
runs away with your money: my friend Hobhouse quarrels, too, with
the Quarterly: and (except the last) I am the innocent Istmhus
(damn the word! I can't spell it, though I have crossed that of
Corinth a dozen times) of these enmities.

"I will tell you something about Chillon.--A Mr. _De Luc_, ninety
years old, a Swiss, had it read to him, and is pleased with it,--so
my sister writes. He said that he was _with Rousseau_ at _Chillon_,
and that the description is perfectly correct. But this is not all:
I recollected something of the name, and find the following passage
in 'The Confessions,' vol. iii. page 247. liv. viii.:--

"'De tous ces amusemens celui qui me plut davantage fut une
promenade autour du Lac, que je fis en bateau avec _De Luc_ pere,
sa bru, ses _deux fils_, et ma Therese. Nous mimes sept jours a
cette tournee par le plus beau temps du monde. J'en gardai le vif
souvenir des sites qui m'avoient frappe a l'autre extremite du Lac,
et dont je fis la description, quelques annees apres, dans la
Nouvelle Heloise'

"This nonagenarian, De Luc, must be one of the 'deux fils.' He is
in England--infirm, but still in faculty. It is odd that he should
have lived so long, and not wanting in oddness that he should have
made this voyage with Jean Jacques, and afterwards, at such an
interval, read a poem by an Englishman (who had made precisely the
same circumnavigation) upon the same scenery.

"As for 'Manfred,' it is of no use sending _proofs_; nothing of
that kind comes. I sent the whole at different times. The two first
Acts are the best; the third so so; but I was blown with the first
and second heats. You must call it 'a Poem,' for it is _no Drama_,
and I do not choose to have it called by so * * a name--a 'Poem in
dialogue,' or--Pantomime, if you will; any thing but a green-room
synonyme; and this is your motto--

"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'

"Yours ever, &c.

"My love and thanks to Mr. Gifford."

* * * * *

LETTER 273. TO MR. MOORE.

"Venice, April 11. 1817.

"I shall continue to write to you while the fit is on me, by way of
penance upon you for your former complaints of long silence. I dare
say you would blush, if you could, for not answering. Next week I
set out for Rome. Having seen Constantinople, I should like to look
at t'other fellow. Besides, I want to see the Pope, and shall take
care to tell him that I vote for the Catholics and no Veto.

"I sha'n't go to Naples. It is but the second best sea-view, and I
have seen the first and third, viz. Constantinople and Lisbon, (by
the way, the last is but a river-view; however, they reckon it
after Stamboul and Naples, and before Genoa,) and Vesuvius is
silent, and I have passed by AEtna. So I shall e'en return to Venice
in July; and if you write, I pray you to address to Venice, which
is my head, or rather my _heart_, quarters.

"My late physician, Dr. Polidori, is here on his way to England,
with the present Lord G * * and the widow of the late earl. Dr.
Polidori has, just now, no more patients, because his patients are
no more. He had lately three, who are now all dead--one embalmed.
Horner and a child of Thomas Hope's are interred at Pisa and Rome.
Lord G * * died of an inflammation of the bowels: so they took them
out, and sent them (on account of their discrepancies), separately
from the carcass, to England. Conceive a man going one way, and his
intestines another, and his immortal soul a third!--was there ever
such a distribution? One certainly has a soul; but how it came to
allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine. I
only know if once mine gets out, I'll have a bit of a tussle before
I let it get in again to that or any other.

"And so poor dear Mr. Maturin's second tragedy has been neglected
by the discerning public! * * will be d----d glad of this, and
d----d without being glad, if ever his own plays come upon 'any
stage.'

"I wrote to Rogers the other day, with a message for you. I hope
that he flourishes. He is the Tithonus of poetry--immortal
already. You and I must wait for it.

"I hear nothing--know nothing. You may easily suppose that the
English don't seek me, and I avoid them. To be sure, there are but
few or none here, save passengers. Florence and Naples are their
Margate and Ramsgate, and much the same sort of company too, by all
accounts, which hurts us among the Italians.

"I want to hear of Lalla Rookh--are you out? Death and fiends! why
don't you tell me where you are, what you are, and how you are? I
shall go to Bologna by Ferrara, instead of Mantua: because I would
rather see the cell where they caged Tasso, and where he became mad
and * *, than his own MSS. at Modena, or the Mantuan birthplace of
that harmonious plagiary and miserable flatterer, whose cursed
hexameters were drilled into me at Harrow. I saw Verona and Vicenza
on my way here--Padua too.

"I go alone,--but alone, because I mean to return here. I only want
to see Rome. I have not the least curiosity about Florence, though
I must see it for the sake of the Venus, &c. &c.; and I wish also
to see the Fall of Terni. I think to return to Venice by Ravenna
and Rimini, of both of which I mean to take notes for Leigh Hunt,
who will be glad to hear of the scenery of his Poem. There was a
devil of a review of him in the Quarterly, a year ago, which he
answered. All answers are imprudent: but, to be sure, poetical
flesh and blood must have the last word--that's certain. I
thought, and think, very highly of his Poem; but I warned him of
the row his favourite antique phraseology would bring him into.

"You have taken a house at Hornsey: I had much rather you had taken
one in the Apennines. If you think of coming out for a summer, or
so, tell me, that I may be upon the hover for you.

"Ever," &c.

* * * * *

LETTER 274. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Venice, April 14. 1817.

"By the favour of Dr. Polidori, who is here on his way to England
with the present Lord G * *, (the late earl having gone to England
by another road, accompanied by his bowels in a separate coffer,) I
remit to you, to deliver to Mrs. Leigh, _two miniatures_;
previously you will have the goodness to desire Mr. Love (as a
peace-offering between him and me) to set them in plain gold, with
my arms complete, and 'Painted by Prepiani--Venice, 1817,' on the
back. I wish also that you would desire Holmes to make a copy of
_each_--that is, both--for myself, and that you will retain the
said copies till my return. One was done while I was very unwell;
the other in my health, which may account for their dissimilitude.
I trust that they will reach their destination in safety.

"I recommend the Doctor to your good offices with your government
friends; and if you can be of any use to him in a literary point of
view, pray be so.

"To-day, or rather yesterday, for it is past midnight, I have been
up to the battlements of the highest tower in Venice, and seen it
and its view, in all the glory of a clear Italian sky. I also went
over the Manfrini Palace, famous for its pictures. Amongst them,
there is a portrait of _Ariosto_ by _Titian_, surpassing all my
anticipation of the power of painting or human expression: it is
the poetry of portrait, and the portrait of poetry. There was also
one of some learned lady, centuries old, whose name I forget, but
whose features must always be remembered. I never saw greater
beauty, or sweetness, or wisdom:--it is the kind of face to go mad
for, because it cannot walk out of its frame. There is also a
famous dead Christ and live Apostles, for which Buonaparte offered
in vain five thousand louis; and of which, though it is a capo
d'opera of Titian, as I am no connoisseur, I say little, and
thought less, except of one figure in it. There are ten thousand
others, and some very fine Giorgiones amongst them, &c. &c. There
is an original Laura and Petrarch, very hideous both. Petrarch has
not only the dress, but the features and air of an old woman, and
Laura looks by no means like a young one, or a pretty one. What
struck me most in the general collection was the extreme
resemblance of the style of the female faces in the mass of
pictures, so many centuries or generations old, to those you see
and meet every day among the existing Italians. The queen of Cyprus
and Giorgione's wife, particularly the latter, are Venetians as it
were of yesterday; the same eyes and expression, and, to my mind,
there is none finer.

"You must recollect, however, that I know nothing of painting; and
that I detest it, unless it reminds me of something I have seen, or
think it possible to see, for which reason I spit upon and abhor
all the Saints and subjects of one half the impostures I see in the
churches and palaces; and when in Flanders, I never was so
disgusted in my life, as with Rubens and his eternal wives and
infernal glare of colours, as they appeared to me; and in Spain I
did not think much of Murillo and Velasquez. Depend upon it, of all
the arts, it is the most artificial and unnatural, and that by
which the nonsense of mankind is most imposed upon. I never yet saw
the picture or the statue which came a league within my conception
or expectation; but I have seen many mountains, and seas, and
rivers, and views, and two or three women, who went as far beyond
it,--besides some horses; and a lion (at Veli Pacha's) in the
Morea; and a tiger at supper in Exeter Change.

"When you write, continue to address to me at _Venice_. Where do
you suppose the books you sent to me are? At _Turin_! This comes of
'_the Foreign Office_' which is foreign enough, God knows, for any
good it can be of to me, or any one else, and be d----d to it, to
its last clerk and first charlatan, Castlereagh.

"This makes my hundredth letter at least.

"Yours," &c.

* * * * *

TO MR. MURRAY.

"Venice, April 14. 1817.

"The present proofs (of the whole) begin only at the 17th page; but
as I had corrected and sent back the first Act, it does not
signify.

"The third Act is certainly d----d bad, and, like the Archbishop of
Grenada's homily (which savoured of the palsy), has the dregs of my
fever, during which it was written. It must on _no account_ be
published in its present state. I will try and reform it, or
rewrite it altogether; but the impulse is gone, and I have no
chance of making any thing out of it. I would not have it published
as it is on any account. The speech of Manfred to the Sun is the
only part of this act I thought good myself; the rest is certainly
as bad as bad can be, and I wonder what the devil possessed me.

"I am very glad indeed that you sent me Mr. Gifford's opinion
without _deduction_. Do you suppose me such a booby as not to be
very much obliged to him? or that in fact I was not, and am not,
convinced and convicted in my conscience of this same overt act of
nonsense?

"I shall try at it again: in the mean time, lay it upon the shelf
(the whole Drama, I mean): but pray correct your copies of the
first and second Acts from the original MS.

"I am not coming to England; but going to Rome in a few days. I
return to Venice in _June_; so, pray, address all letters, &c. to
me _here_, as usual, that is, to _Venice_. Dr. Polidori this day
left this city with Lord G * * for England. He is charged with
some books to your care (from me), and two miniatures also to the
same address, _both_ for my sister.

"Recollect not to publish, upon pain of I know not what, until I
have tried again at the third Act. I am not sure that I _shall_
try, and still less that I shall succeed, if I do; but I am very
sure, that (as it is) it is unfit for publication or perusal; and
unless I can make it out to my own satisfaction, I won't have any
part published.

"I write in haste, and after having lately written very often.
Yours," &c.

* * * * *

LETTER 276. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Foligno, April 26. 1817.

"I wrote to you the other day from Florence, inclosing a MS.
entitled 'The Lament of Tasso.' It was written in consequence of my
having been lately at Ferrara. In the last section of this MS. _but
one_ (that is, the penultimate), I think that I have omitted a line
in the copy sent to you from Florence, viz. after the line--

"And woo compassion to a blighted name,

insert,

"Sealing the sentence which my foes proclaim.

The _context_ will show you _the sense_, which is not clear in this
quotation. _Remember, I write this in the supposition that you have
received my Florentine packet._

"At Florence I remained but a day, having a hurry for Rome, to
which I am thus far advanced. However, I went to the two galleries,
from which one returns drunk with beauty. The Venus is more for
admiration than love; but there are sculpture and painting, which
for the first time at all gave me an idea of what people mean by
their _cant_, and what Mr. Braham calls 'entusimusy' (_i.e._
enthusiasm) about those two most artificial of the arts. What
struck me most were, the mistress of Raphael, a portrait; the
mistress of Titian, a portrait; a Venus of Titian in the Medici
gallery--_the_ Venus; Canova's Venus also in the other gallery:
Titian's mistress is also in the other gallery (that is, in the
Pitti Palace gallery): the Parcae of Michael Angelo, a picture: and
the Antinous, the Alexander, and one or two not very decent groups
in marble; the Genius of Death, a sleeping figure, &c. &c.

"I also went to the Medici chapel--fine frippery in great slabs of
various expensive stones, to commemorate fifty rotten and forgotten
carcasses. It is unfinished, and will remain so.

"The church of 'Santa Croce' contains much illustrious nothing. The
tombs of Machiavelli, Michael Angelo, Galileo Galilei, and Alfieri,
make it the Westminster Abbey of Italy. I did not admire any of
these tombs--beyond their contents. That of Alfieri is heavy, and
all of them seem to me overloaded. What is necessary but a bust and
name? and perhaps a date? the last for the unchronological, of whom
I am one. But all your allegory and eulogy is infernal, and worse
than the long wigs of English numskulls upon Roman bodies in the
statuary of the reigns of Charles II., William, and Anne.

"When you write, write to _Venice_, as usual; I mean to return
there in a fortnight. I shall not be in England for a long time.
This afternoon I met Lord and Lady Jersey, and saw them for some
time: all well; children grown and healthy; she very pretty, but
sunburnt; he very sick of travelling; bound for Paris. There are
not many English on the move, and those who are, mostly homewards.
I shall not return till business makes me, being much better where
I am in health, &c. &c.

"For the sake of my personal comfort, I pray you send me
immediately _to Venice_--_mind, Venice_--viz. _Waites'
tooth-powder_, _red_, a quantity; _calcined magnesia_, of the best
quality, a quantity; and all this by safe, sure, and speedy means;
and, by the Lord! do it.

"I have done nothing at Manfred's third Act. You must wait; I'll
have at it in a week or two, or so. Yours ever," &c.

* * * * *

LETTER 277. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Rome, May 5. 1817.

"By this post, (or next at farthest) I send you in two _other_
covers, the new third Act of 'Manfred.' I have re-written the
greater part, and returned what is not altered in the _proof_ you
sent me. The Abbot is become a good man, and the Spirits are
brought in at the death. You will find I think, some good poetry
in this new act, here and there; and if so, print it, without
sending me farther proofs, _under Mr. Gifford's correction_, if he
will have the goodness to overlook it. Address all answers to
Venice, as usual; I mean to return there in ten days.

"'The Lament of Tasso,' which I sent from Florence, has, I trust,
arrived: I look upon it as a 'these be good rhymes,' as Pope's papa
said to him when he was a boy. For the two--it and the Drama--you
will disburse to me (_via_ Kinnaird) _six_ hundred guineas. You
will perhaps be surprised that I set the same price upon this as
upon the Drama; but, besides that I look upon it as _good_, I won't
take less than three hundred guineas for any thing. The two
together will make you a larger publication than the 'Siege' and
'Parisina;' so you may think yourself let off very easy: that is to
say, if these poems are good for any thing, which I hope and
believe.

"I have been some days in Rome the Wonderful. I am seeing sights,
and have done nothing else, except the new third Act for you. I
have this morning seen a live pope and a dead cardinal: Pius VII.
has been burying Cardinal Bracchi, whose body I saw in state at the
Chiesa Nuova. Rome has delighted me beyond every thing, since
Athens and Constantinople. But I shall not remain long this visit.
Address to Venice.

"Ever, &c.

"P.S. I have got my saddle-horses here, and have ridden, and am
riding, all about the country."

* * * * *

From the foregoing letters to Mr. Murray, we may collect some curious
particulars respecting one of the most original and sublime of the noble
poet's productions, the Drama of Manfred. His failure (and to an extent
of which the reader shall be enabled presently to judge), in the
completion of a design which he had, through two Acts, so magnificently
carried on,--the impatience with which, though conscious of this
failure, he as usual hurried to the press, without deigning to woo, or
wait for, a happier moment of inspiration,--his frank docility in, at
once, surrendering up his third Act to reprobation, without urging one
parental word in its behalf,--the doubt he evidently felt, whether, from
his habit of striking off these creations at a heat, he should be able
to rekindle his imagination on the subject,--and then, lastly, the
complete success with which, when his mind _did_ make the spring, he at
once cleared the whole space by which he before fell short of
perfection,--all these circumstances, connected with the production of
this grand poem, lay open to us features, both of his disposition and
genius, in the highest degree interesting, and such as there is a
pleasure, second only to that of perusing the poem itself, in
contemplating.

As a literary curiosity, and, still more, as a lesson to genius, never
to rest satisfied with imperfection or mediocrity, but to labour on till
even failures are converted into triumphs, I shall here transcribe the
third Act, in its original shape, as first sent to the publisher:--

ACT III.--SCENE I.

A Hall in the Castle of Manfred.

MANFRED and HERMAN.

_Man._ What is the hour?

_Her._ It wants but one till sunset,
And promises a lovely twilight.

_Man._ Say,
Are all things so disposed of in the tower
As I directed?

_Her._ All, my lord, are ready:
Here is the key and casket.

_Man._ It is well:
Thou may'st retire. [_Exit_ HERMAN.

_Man._ (_alone._) There is a calm upon me--
Inexplicable stillness! which till now
Did not belong to what I knew of life.
If that I did not know philosophy
To be of all our vanities the motliest,
The merest word that ever fool'd the ear
From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem
The golden secret, the sought 'Kalon,' found,
And seated in my soul. It will not last,
But it is well to have known it, though but once:
It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense,
And I within my tablets would note down
That there is such a feeling. Who is there?

_Re-enter_ HERMAN.

_Her._ My lord, the Abbot of St. Maurice craves
To greet your presence.

_Enter the_ ABBOT OF ST. MAURICE.

_Abbot._ Peace be with Count Manfred!

_Man._ Thanks, holy father! welcome to these walls;
Thy presence honours them, and blesseth those
Who dwell within them.

_Abbot._ Would it were so, Count!
But I would fain confer with thee alone.

_Man._ Herman, retire. What would my reverend guest?

[_Exit_ HERMAN.

_Abbot._ Thus, without prelude:--Age and zeal, my office,
And good intent, must plead my privilege;
Our near, though not acquainted neighbourhood,
May also be my herald. Rumours strange,
And of unholy nature, are abroad,
And busy with thy name--a noble name
For centuries; may he who bears it now
Transmit it unimpair'd.

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