My Recollections of Lord Byron
Genoa, and in Greece, up to the very last days of his life. But, before
quoting some of these fortunate travellers, I must transcribe a few more
passages from Moore:
"On my rejoining him in town this spring, I found the enthusiasm about
his writings and himself, which I had left so prevalent, both in the
world of literature and society, grown, if any thing, still more genuine
and intense. In the immediate circle perhaps around him, familiarity of
intercourse must have begun to produce its usual disenchanting effect."
"His own liveliness and unreserve, on a more intimate acquaintance,
would not be long in dispelling that charm of poetic sadness, which to
the eyes of distant observers hung about him; while the romantic
notions, connected by some of his fair readers with those past and
nameless loves alluded to in his poems, ran some risk of abatement from
too near an acquaintance with the supposed objects of his fancy and
fondness at present."
"But, whatever of its first romantic impression the personal character
of the poet may, from such causes, have lost in the circle he most
frequented, this disappointment of the imagination was far more than
compensated by the frank, social, and engaging qualities, both of
disposition and manner, which, on a nearer intercourse, he disclosed, as
well as by that entire absence of any literary assumption or pedantry,
which entitled him fully to the praise bestowed by Sprat upon
Cowley--that few could ever discover he was a great poet by his
discourse."
While thus by his friends, he was seen in his true colors, in his
weakness and in his strength, to strangers, and such as were out of this
immediate circle, the sternness of his imaginary personages were, by the
greater number of them, supposed to belong, not only as regarded mind,
but manners, to himself. So prevalent and persevering has been this
notion, that, in some disquisitions on his character published since his
death, and containing otherwise many just and striking views, we find,
in the portrait drawn of him, such features as the following:--"Lord
Byron had a stern, direct, severe mind: a sarcastic, disdainful, gloomy
temper. He had no sympathy with a flippant cheerfulness: upon the
surface was sourness, discontent, displeasure, ill-will. Of this sort of
double aspect which he presented, the aspect in which he was viewed by
the world and by his friends, he was himself fully aware; and it not
only amused him, but indeed to a certain extent, flattered his pride."
"And if there was ever any tendency to derangement in his mental
conformation, on this point alone could it be pronounced to have
manifested itself. In the early part of my acquaintance with him, when
he most gave way to this humor, I have known him more than once, as we
have sat together after dinner, to fall seriously into this sort of dark
and self-accusing mood, and throw out hints of his past life with an air
of gloom and mystery designed evidently to awaken curiosity and
interest.... It has sometimes occurred to me that the occult cause of
his lady's separation from him, round which herself and her legal
adviser have thrown such formidable mystery, may have been nothing more,
after all, than some imposture of this kind, intended only to mystify
and surprise, while it was taken in sober seriousness."
I have mentioned elsewhere how Moore, while justly appreciating the
consequences of this youthful eccentricity,--of which later, but too
late, Byron corrected himself,--does not equally appreciate the motives,
or rather the principal motive, which gave rise to it. As, however, he
judges rightly of the results, I shall continue to quote him for the
reader's benefit.
"M. Galignani, having expressed a wish to be furnished with a short
memoir of Lord Byron for the purpose of prefixing it to the French
edition of his works, I had said jestingly, in a preceding letter to his
lordship, that it would but be a fair satire on the disposition of the
world to 'remonster his features' if he would write for the public,
English as well as French, a sort of mock heroic account of himself,
outdoing in horrors and wonders all that had been yet related or
believed of him, and leaving even Goethe's story of the double murder at
Florence far behind."
Lord Byron replied from Pisa, on the 12th of December, 1821:--"What you
say about Galignani's two biographies is very amusing; and, if I were
not lazy, I would certainly do what you desire. But I doubt my present
stock of facetiousness--that is, of good serious humor--so as not to let
the cat out of the bag. I wish you would undertake it. I will forgive
and _indulge_ you (like a pope) beforehand, for any thing ludicrous that
might keep those fools in their own dear belief that a man is a
_loup-garou_.
"I suppose I told you that the 'Giaour' story had actually some
foundation in fact.... I should not like marvels to rest upon any
account of my own, and shall say nothing about it.... The worst of any
real adventures is that they involve living people."
He at last tired of always appearing in the guise of a corsair, or of a
mysterious criminal, or of a hero of melodrama. These various disguises
had afforded him too much pain, and one day he said to Mr. Medwin:--
"When Galignani thought of publishing a fresh edition of my works he
wrote to Moore to ask him to give him some anecdotes respecting me: and
we thought of composing a narrative filled with the most impossible and
incredible adventures, to amuse the Parisians. But I reflected that
there were already too many ready-made stories about me, to puzzle my
brain to invent new ones."
Mr. Medwin adds:--
"The reader will laugh when he hears that one of my friends assured me
that the lines of Thyrza, published with the first canto to 'Childe
Harold,' were addressed by Byron to his bear! There is nothing too
wicked to be invented by hatred, or believed by ignorance."
Moore often refers to the wonderful contrast which existed between the
real and imaginary Byron. Thus, in speaking of his incredibly active and
sublime genius at Venice, he says:--
"While thus at this period, more remarkably than at any other during his
life, the unparalleled versatility of his genius was unfolding itself,
those quick, chameleon-like changes of which his character, too, was
capable, were, during the same time, most vividly and in strongest
contrast, drawn out. To the world, and more especially to England,--the
scene at once of his glories and his wrongs,--he presented himself in
no other aspect than that of a stern, haughty misanthrope, self-banished
from the fellowship of men, and most of all from that of Englishmen...."
How totally all this differed from the Byron of the social hour, they
who lived in familiar intercourse with him may be safely left to tell.
The reputation which he had acquired for himself abroad, prevented
numbers, of course, of his countrymen, whom he would most cordially have
welcomed, from seeking his acquaintance. But as it was, no "English
gentleman ever approached him, with the common forms of introduction,
that did not come away at once surprised and charmed by the kind
courtesy and facility of his manners, the unpretending play of his
conversation, and, on a nearer intercourse, the frank youthful spirits,
to the flow of which he gave way with such a zest as even to deceive
some of those who best knew him into the impression that gayety was,
after all, the true bent of his disposition."
I must confine myself to these quotations, as it is not in my power to
reproduce all that Moore has said on the subject. His statements,
however, prove two things:--
First, that Lord Byron, instead of being a dark and gloomy hero of
romance, was a man full of amiability, goodness, grace, sociability, and
liveliness. Of the impression produced upon all those who knew him in
these combined qualities, I shall have occasion to speak hereafter.
Secondly, that since even after Byron's death the fantastical notions
about him were entertained even by so impartial and so enlightened a
person as Sir Edward Brydges, it is not surprising (nor should they be
blamed for it) that Frenchmen, and all foreigners in general, and even a
great portion of Englishmen, should have believed in this fallacy. There
was no means at that time of clearing up the mystery, nor can one see in
this belief, however exaggerated, especially in France and on the
Continent, any spirit either of direct hostility, or even ill-will
toward him. The error was exported from England, and upon it they
reasoned, logically and oftentimes wittily. But surely those can not be
absolved who still adhere to the old errors, after the true state of
things had been disclosed at the poet's death in the writings of such
biographers as Moore, Parry, Medwin himself, Count Gamba, and others
who knew Byron personally.
That a portion of the British public should maintain certain prejudices,
and preserve a certain animosity against Byron, is not matter of
astonishment to those who have at all studied the English character. The
spirit of tolerance which exists in the laws, is far from pervading the
habits of the people; cant is on the decrease, but not quite gone, and
may still lead one to a very fair social position. There still live a
host of enemies whom Byron had made during his lifetime, and the number
of whom (owing to a bona fide treachery, by the indiscreet publication
of a correspondence which was destined to be kept secret and in the
dark), increased greatly after his death from the number of people whose
pride he had therein wounded.
He may be liable to the punishment due to his having trespassed on
certain exclusively English notions of virtue, as intimated in the
condemnation of the _imaginary_ immorality of some of his works. He may
be accused, with some truth, of having been too severe toward several
persons and things. But not one of these reasons has any _locus standi_
in France,--a country which might claim a certain share in the honor of
having been his mother-country. Besides having a French turn of mind in
many respects, Byron, descended directly from a French stock, had been
conceived in France, and had long lived in its neighborhood. If those,
therefore, may be absolved who falsely appreciated Byron's character
both before and immediately after his death, the same indulgence can not
be extended to those who persist in their unjust conclusions. Such men
were greatly to blame; for, in writing about Byron, they were bound in
conscience to consult the biographers who had known him, and having
neglected to do so, either from idleness or from party spirit, they
failed in their duty as just and honorable men.
Before finishing this chapter, we must add to these pages, which were
written many years ago, a few remarks suggested by the perusal of a
recent work which has caused great sensation by the talent which
pervades it, by its boldness, and original writing. I allude to the work
of M. Taine upon English literature; therein he appreciates, in a manly,
fine style, all the loftiness of Lord Byron's poetry, but always under
the influence of a received, and not self-formed, opinion. He likewise
deserves, by his appreciations and conclusions, the reproaches addressed
to the other critics of the illustrious and calumniated poet. In this
work, which is rather magnificent than solid, and which contains a whole
psychological system, one note is ever uppermost,--that of disdain.
Contempt, however, is not his object, but only his means. All must be
sacrificed to the triumph of his opinions.
The glory of nations, great souls, great minds, their works, their
deeds, all must serve to complement his victory. Bossuet, Newton, Dante,
Shakspeare, Corneille, Byron, all have erred. If he despises them, if he