My Recollections of Lord Byron
our mode of life was quiet and retired; it would be impossible to
imagine an existence simpler than ours, less calculated to draw down the
aspersions cast upon us.
"These calumnies were of the most unheard-of nature,--really too
infamous to permit us to treat them with disdain. Both Genevans and
English established at Geneva affirmed that we were leading a life of
the most unblushing profligacy. They said that we had made a compact
together for outraging all held most sacred in human society. Pardon me,
madam, if I spare you the details. I will only say that _incest_,
_atheism_, and many other things equally ridiculous or horrible, were
imputed to us. The English newspapers were not slow in propagating the
scandal, and the nation lent entire faith.
"Hardly any mode of annoying us was neglected. Persons living on the
borders of the lake opposite Lord Byron's house made use of telescopes
to spy out all his movements. An English lady fainted, or pretended to
faint, with horror on seeing him enter a saloon. The most outrageous
caricatures of him and his friends were circulated; and all this took
place in the short period of three months.
"The effect of this, on Lord Byron's mind, was most unhappy. His natural
gayety abandoned him almost entirely. A man must be more or less than a
stoic to bear such injuries with patience.
"Do not flatter yourself, madam, with the idea, that because Englishmen
acknowledge Lord Byron as the greatest poet of the day, they would
therefore abstain from annoying him, and, as far as it depended on them,
from persecuting him. Their admiration for his works is unwillingly
extorted, and the pleasure they experience in reading them does not
allay prejudice nor stop calumny.
"As to the Genevans, they would not disturb him, if there were not a
colony of English established in the town,--persons who have carried
with them a host of mean prejudices and hatred against all those who
excel or avoid them; and as these causes would continue to exist, the
same effects would doubtless follow.
"The English are about as numerous at Geneva as the natives, and their
riches cause them to be sought after; for the Genevans, compared to
their guests, are like valets, or, at best, like hotel-keepers, having
let their whole town to foreigners.
"A circumstance, personally known to me, may afford proof of what is to
be expected at Geneva. The only inhabitant on whose attachment and honor
Lord Byron thought he had every reason to count, turned out one of those
who invented the most infamous calumnies. A friend of mine, deceived by
him, involuntarily unveiled all his wickedness to me, and I was
therefore obliged to inform my friend of the hypocrisy and perversity we
had discovered in this individual. You can not, madam, conceive the
excessive violence with which Englishmen, of a certain class, detest
those whose conduct and opinions are not exactly framed on the model of
their own. This system of ideas forms a superstition unceasingly
demanding victims, and unceasingly finding them. But, however strong
theological hatred may be among them, it yields in intensity to social
hatred. This system is quite the order of the day at Geneva; and, having
once been brought into play for the disquiet of Lord Byron and his
friends, I much fear that the same causes would soon produce the same
effects, if the intended journey took place. Accustomed as you are,
madam, to the gentler manners of Italy, you will scarcely be able to
conceive to what a pitch this social hatred is carried in less favored
regions. I have been forced to pass through this hard experience, and to
see all dearest to me entangled in inextricable slanders. My position
bore some resemblance to that of your brother, and it is for that reason
I hasten to write you, in order to spare you and your family the evil I
so fatally experienced. I refrain from adding other reasons, and I pray
you to excuse the freedom with which I have written, since it is
dictated by sincerest motives, and justified by my friend's request. To
him I leave the care of assuring you of my devotion to his interests,
and to all those dear to him.
"Deign, madam, to accept the expression of my highest esteem.
"Your sincere and humble servant,
"PERCY B. SHELLEY.
"P.S.--You will forgive a barbarian, madam, for the bad Italian in which
the honest sentiments of his letter are couched."]
[Footnote 11: Moore, vol. ii. p. 8.]
[Footnote 12: When that extravagant book "Glenarvon" appeared, Moore
wrote a comic review on it, and sent the paper to Jeffrey, who thought
it a good caricature, and wanted to publish it in the "Edinburgh
Review." But the friends of the author of "Glenarvon" interfered to such
purpose that Jeffrey gave up the idea of mentioning the novel at all,
which was also approved by Lord Byron's friends as the best means of
proving, by silence, the contempt such a book merited.]
[Footnote 13: Madame de Stael said one day at Coppet, with an air of
mystery, "You are often seen at night, Lord Byron, in your bark upon the
lake, accompanied by a white phantom." "Yes," answered he, "'tis my
dog." Madame de Stael shook her head, not at all convinced that he kept
such innocent company, for her head had been filled with fantastic tales
and lies about him. In this instance, however, she was somewhat right;
for the white phantom was not only his dog, but often Mrs. Shelley, and
even sometimes a young woman intimate with her. This lady, with whom he
had, and would have, nothing to do, was bent on running after him,
although he did all in his power to avoid her. She succeeded sometimes
in getting into the boat with the Shelleys, and thus made inquisitive
people talk. But Lord Byron was very innocent in it all, and even
victimized, for the _ennui_ it caused him made him quit Switzerland and
the Alps, he loved so well, before the season was even over.]
[Footnote 14: "Essai sur Lord Byron," p. 177.]
[Footnote 15: Lord Byron wrote to Moore in November, 1820:--
"Pray, where did you get hold of Goethe's 'Florentine' husband-killing
story? Upon such matters, in general, I may say, with Beau Clinker, in
reply to Erraud's wife:--
"'Oh, the villain, he hath murdered my poor Timothy!'
"_Clinker._--'Damn your Timothy! I tell you, woman, your husband has
murdered me--he has carried away my fine jubilee clothes.'"]
[Footnote 16: Moore, vol. ii. p. 782]
CHAPTER IV.
LORD BYRON'S RELIGIOUS OPINIONS.
"When the triumph of a cause of such importance to humanity is in
question, there never can be too many advocates.... But it is not
enough to count up the votes; their value must, above all, be
weighed."--SHERER.
The struggles between heart and reason, in religious matters, began
almost with Lord Byron's infancy. His desire of reconciling them was
such, that, if unsuccessful, his mind was perplexed and restless. He was
not, as it were, out of the cradle, when, in the midst of his childish
play, the great problems of life already filled his youthful thoughts;
and his good nurse May, who was wont to sing psalms to him when rocking
him to sleep, had also to answer questions which showed the dangerous
curiosity of his mind.
"Among the traits," says Moore, "which should be recorded of his earlier
years, I should mention, that, according to the character given of him
by his first nurse's husband, he was, when a mere child, 'particularly
inquisitive and puzzling about religion.'"
At ten years of age, he was sent to school, at Dulwich, under the care
of the Rev. Dr. Glennie, who, in the account given by him to Moore, and
after speaking of the amiable qualities of Byron, adds: that "At that
age he already possessed an intimate acquaintance with the historical
facts in the Scriptures, and was particularly delighted when he could
speak of them to him, especially on Sunday evenings after worship." He
was wont then to reason upon all the facts contained in the Bible, with
every appearance of faith in the doctrine which it teaches.
But while his heart was thus drawn toward its Creator, the power of his
reason began imperiously to assert its rights. As long as he remained
sheltered under his father's roof, under the eyes of his mother, and of
young ecclesiastics who were his first teachers, and whose practice
agreed with their teaching,--as long as his reason had not reached a
certain degree of development,--he remained orthodox and pious. But when
he went to college, and particularly when he was received at Cambridge,
a vast field of contradictions opened before his observing and thinking
mind. His reflections, together with the study of the great
psychological questions, soon clouded his mind, and threw a shade over
his orthodoxy. If Lord Byron, therefore, had really the misfortune to
lose at an earlier age than ordinary children, the simple faith of his
childhood, the fact is not to be wondered at. By the universality of his
genius he added to the faculties which form the poet, those of an
eminently logical and practical mind; and being precocious in all
things, he was likewise so in his powers of reflection and reasoning.
"Never," says Moore, "did Lord Byron lose sight of reality and of common
practical sense; his genius, however high it soared, ever preserved upon
earth a support of some kind."
His intellectual inquisitiveness was likewise, with him, a precocious
passion, and circumstances stood so well in the way to serve this
craving, that when fifteen years of age (incredible as it seems), he had
already perused two thousand volumes, among which his powerful and vivid
intellect had been able to weigh the contradictions of all the principal
modern and ancient systems of philosophy. This thirst for knowledge
(anomalous according to the rules of both school and college) was the
more extraordinary that it existed in him together with a passionate
love for boyish play, and the indulgence in all the bodily exercises, in
which he excelled, and on which he prided himself. But as he stored his
mind after the usual college hours, and apart from the influences of
that routine discipline, which, with Milton, Pope, and almost all the
great minds, he so cordially hated, the real progress of his intellect
remained unobserved by his masters, and even by his fellow-students.
This mistake, on the part of men little gifted with quickness of
perception, was not shared by Disraeli, who could so justly appreciate
genius; and of Byron he spoke as of a studious boy, who loved to hide
this quality from his comrades, thinking it more amiable on his part to
appear idle in their eyes.
While the young man thus strengthened his intellect by hard though
irregular study, his meditative and impassioned nature, feeling in the
highest degree the necessity of confirming its impressions, experienced
more imperatively than a youth of fifteen generally does, the want of
examining the traditional teachings which had been transmitted to him.
Byron felt the necessity of inquiring on what irrevocable proofs the
dogmas which he was called upon to believe were based. Holy writ, aided
by the infallibility of the teachings of the Church, etc., were adduced
as the proofs he required.
He was wont, therefore, to read with avidity a number of books treating
on religious matters; and he perused them, both with artless ingenuity
and in the hope of their strengthening his faith. But, could he truly
find faith in their pages? Are not such books rather dangerous than
otherwise for some minds?
"The truth is," says the author of the "Essays," "that a mind which has
never entertained a doubt in revelation, may conceive some doubts by
reading books written in its defense." And he adds elsewhere, in
speaking of the writers of such controversial works, that "impatient of