Thomas Moore- Collected Poetical Works

by Thomas Moore

  LETTER 486. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Pisa, March 15. 1822.

  “I am glad that you and your friends approve of my letter of the 8th ultimo. You may give it what publicity you think proper in the circumstances. I have since written to you twice or thrice.

  “As to ‘a Poem in the old way,’ I shall attempt of that kind nothing further. I follow the bias of my own mind, without considering whether women or men are or are not to be pleased; but this is nothing to my publisher, who must judge and act according to popularity.

  “Therefore let the things take their chance: if they pay, you will pay me in proportion; and if they don’t, I must.

  “The Noel affairs, I hope, will not take me to England. I have no desire to revisit that country, unless it be to keep you out of a prison (if this can be effected by my taking your place), or perhaps to get myself into one, by exacting satisfaction from one or two persons who take advantage of my absence to abuse me. Further than this, I have no business nor connection with England, nor desire to have, out of my own family and friends, to whom I wish all prosperity. Indeed, I have lived upon the whole so little in England (about five years since I was one-and-twenty), that my habits are too continental, and your climate would please me as little as the society.

  “I saw the Chancellor’s Report in a French paper. Pray, why don’t they prosecute the translation of Lucretius? or the original with its

  “‘Primus in orbe Deos fecit Timor,’

  or

  “‘Tantum Religio potuit suadere malorum?’

  “You must really get something done for Mr. * *’s Commentary: what can I say to him?

  “Yours,” &c.

  LETTER 487. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Pisa, April 13. 1822.

  “Mr. Kinnaird writes that there has been an ‘excellent Defence’ of ‘Cain,’ against ‘Oxoniensis;’ you have sent me nothing but a not very excellent of-fence of the same poem. If there be such a ‘Defender of the Faith,’ you may send me his thirty-nine articles, as a counterbalance to some of your late communications.

  “Are you to publish, or not, what Moore and Mr. Kinnaird have in hand, and the ‘Vision of Judgment?’ If you publish the latter in a very cheap edition, so as to baffle the pirates by a low price, you will find that it will do. The ‘Mystery’ I look upon as good, and ‘Werner’ too, and I expect that you will publish them speedily. You need not put your name to Quevedo, but publish it as a foreign edition, and let it make its way. Douglas Kinnaird has it still, with the preface, I believe.

  “I refer you to him for documents on the late row here. I sent them a week ago.

  “Yours,” &c.

  LETTER 488. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Pisa, April 18. 1822.

  “I have received the Defence of ‘Cain.’ Who is my Warburton? — for he has done for me what the bishop did for the poet against Crousaz. His reply seems to me conclusive; and if you understood your own interest, you would print it together with the poem.

  “It is very odd that I do not hear from you. I have forwarded to Mr. Douglas Kinnaird the documents on a squabble here, which occurred about a month ago. The affair is still going on; but they make nothing of it hitherto. I think, what with home and abroad, there has been hot water enough for one while. Mr. Dawkins, the English minister, has behaved in the handsomest and most gentlemanly manner throughout the whole business.

  “Yours ever, &c.

  “P.S. I have got Lord Glenbervie’s book, which is very amusing and able upon the topics which he touches upon, and part of the preface pathetic. Write soon.”

  LETTER 489. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Pisa, April 22. 1822.

  “You will regret to hear that I have received intelligence of the death of my daughter Allegra of a fever in the convent of Bagna Cavallo, where she was placed for the last year, to commence her education. It is a heavy blow for many reasons, but must be borne, with time.

  “It is my present intention to send her remains to England for sepulture in Harrow church (where I once hoped to have laid my own), and this is my reason for troubling you with this notice. I wish the funeral to be very private. The body is embalmed, and in lead. It will be embarked from Leghorn. Would you have any objection to give the proper directions on its arrival?

  “I am yours, &c. N.B.

  “P.S. You are aware that Protestants are not allowed holy ground in Catholic countries.”

  LETTER 490. TO MR. SHELLEY.

  “April 23. 1822.

  “The blow was stunning and unexpected; for I thought the danger over, by the long interval between her stated amelioration and the arrival of the express. But I have borne up against it as I best can, and so far successfully, that I can go about the usual business of life with the same appearance of composure, and even greater. There is nothing to prevent your coming to-morrow; but, perhaps, to-day, and yester-evening, it was better not to have met. I do not know that I have any thing to reproach in my conduct, and certainly nothing in my feelings and intentions towards the dead. But it is a moment when we are apt to think that, if this or that had been done, such event might have been prevented, — though every day and hour shows us that they are the most natural and inevitable. I suppose that Time will do his usual work — Death has done his.

  “Yours ever, N.B.”

  LETTER 491. TO SIR WALTER SCOTT.

  “Pisa, May 4. 1822.

  “My dear Sir Walter,

  “Your account of your family is very pleasing: would that I ‘could answer this comfort with the like!’ but I have just lost my natural daughter, Allegra, by a fever. The only consolation, save time, is the reflection, that she is either at rest or happy; for her few years (only five) prevented her from having incurred any sin, except what we inherit from Adam.

  “‘Whom the gods love, die young.’”

  “I need not say that your letters are particularly welcome, when they do not tax your time and patience; and now that our correspondence is resumed, I trust it will continue.

  “I have lately had some anxiety, rather than trouble, about an awkward affair here, which you may perhaps have heard of; but our minister has behaved very handsomely, and the Tuscan Government as well as it is possible for such a government to behave, which is not saying much for the latter. Some other English, and Scots, and myself, had a brawl with a dragoon, who insulted one of the party, and whom we mistook for an officer, as he was medalled and well mounted, &c. but he turned out to be a sergeant-major. He called out the guard at the gates to arrest us (we being unarmed); upon which I and another (an Italian) rode through the said guard; but they succeeded in detaining others of the party. I rode to my house and sent my secretary to give an account of the attempted and illegal arrest to the authorities, and then, without dismounting, rode back towards the gates, which are near my present mansion. Half-way I met my man vapouring away and threatening to draw upon me (who had a cane in my hand, and no other arms). I, still believing him an officer, demanded his name and address, and gave him my hand and glove thereupon. A servant of mine thrust in between us (totally without orders), but let him go on my command. He then rode off at full speed; but about forty paces further was stabbed, and very dangerously (so as to be in peril), by some Callum Beg or other of my people (for I have some rough-handed folks about me), I need hardly say without my direction or approval. The said dragoon had been sabring our unarmed countrymen, however, at the gate, after they were in arrest, and held by the guards, and wounded one, Captain Hay, very severely. However, he got his paiks — having acted like an assassin, and being treated like one. Who wounded him, though it was done before thousands of people, they have never been able to ascertain, or prove, nor even the weapon; some said a pistol, an air-gun, a stiletto, a sword, a lance, a pitchfork, and what not. They have arrested and examined servants and people of all descriptions, but can make out nothing. Mr. Dawkins, our minister, assures me, that no suspicion is entertained of the man who wounded him having been instigated by me, or any of the pa
rty. I enclose you copies of the depositions of those with us, and Dr. Craufurd, a canny Scot (not an acquaintance), who saw the latter part of the affair. They are in Italian.

  “These are the only literary matters in which I have been engaged since the publication and row about ‘Cain;’ — but Mr. Murray has several things of mine in his obstetrical hands. Another Mystery — a Vision — a Drama — and the like. But you won’t tell me what you are doing — however, I shall find you out, write what you will. You say that I should like your son-in-law — it would be very difficult for me to dislike any one connected with you; but I have no doubt that his own qualities are all that you describe.

  “I am sorry you don’t like Lord Orford’s new work. My aristocracy, which is very fierce, makes him a favourite of mine. Recollect that those ‘little factions’ comprised Lord Chatham and Fox, the father, and that we live in gigantic and exaggerated times, which make all under Gog and Magog appear pigmean. After having seen Napoleon begin like Tamerlane and end like Bajazet in our own time, we have not the same interest in what would otherwise have appeared important history. But I must conclude.

  “Believe me ever and most truly yours,

  “Noel Byron.”

  LETTER 492. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Pisa, May 17. 1822.

  “I hear that the Edinburgh has attacked the three dramas, which is a bad business for you; and I don’t wonder that it discourages you. However, that volume may be trusted to time, — depend upon it. I read it over with some attention since it was published, and I think the time will come when it will be preferred to my other writings, though not immediately. I say this without irritation against the critics or criticism, whatever they may be (for I have not seen them); and nothing that has or may appear in Jeffrey’s Review can make me forget that he stood by me for ten good years without any motive to do so but his own good-will.

  “I hear Moore is in town; remember me to him, and believe me

  “Yours truly, N.B.

  “P.S. If you think it necessary, you may send me the Edinburgh. Should there be any thing that requires an answer, I will reply, but temperately and technically; that is to say, merely with respect to the principles of the criticism, and not personally or offensively as to its literary merits.”

  LETTER 493. TO MR. MOORE.

  “Pisa, May 17. 1822.

  “I hear you are in London. You will have heard from Douglas Kinnaird (who tells me you have dined with him) as much as you desire to know of my affairs at home and abroad. I have lately lost my little girl Allegra by a fever, which has been a serious blow to me.

  “I did not write to you lately (except one letter to Murray’s), not knowing exactly your ‘where-abouts.’ Douglas K. refused to forward my message to Mr. Southey — why, he himself can explain.

  “You will have seen the statement of a squabble, &c.&c. What are you about? Let me hear from you at your leisure, and believe me ever yours,

  “N.B.”

  LETTER 494. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Montenero, May 26. 1822.

  “Near Leghorn.

  “The body is embarked, in what ship I know not, neither could I enter into the details; but the Countess G.G. has had the goodness to give the necessary orders to Mr. Dunn, who superintends the embarkation, and will write to you. I wish it to be buried in Harrow church.

  “There is a spot in the churchyard, near the footpath, on the brow of the hill looking towards Windsor, and a tomb under a large tree, (bearing the name of Peachie, or Peachey,) where I used to sit for hours and hours when a boy. This was my favourite spot; but, as I wish to erect a tablet to her memory, the body had better be deposited in the church. Near the door, on the left hand as you enter, there is a monument with a tablet containing these words: —

  “‘When Sorrow weeps o’er Virtue’s sacred dust, Our tears become us, and our grief is just: Such were the tears she shed, who grateful pays This last sad tribute of her love and praise.’

  I recollect them (after seventeen years), not from any thing remarkable in them, but because from my seat in the gallery I had generally my eyes turned towards that monument. As near it as convenient I could wish Allegra to be buried, and on the wall a marble tablet placed, with these words: —

  In Memory of

  Allegra,

  Daughter of G.G. Lord Byron,

  who died at Bagna Cavallo,

  in Italy, April 20th, 1822,

  aged five years and three months.

  ‘I shall go to her, but she shall not return to me.’

  2d Samuel, xii. 23.

  “The funeral I wish to be as private as is consistent with decency; and I could hope that Henry Drury will, perhaps, read the service over her. If he should decline it, it can be done by the usual minister for the time being. I do not know that I need add more just now.

  “Since I came here, I have been invited by the Americans on board their squadron, where I was received with all the kindness which I could wish, and with more ceremony than I am fond of. I found them finer ships than your own of the same class, well manned and officered. A number of American gentlemen also were on board at the time, and some ladies. As I was taking leave, an American lady asked me for a rose which I wore, for the purpose, she said, of sending to America something which I had about me, as a memorial. I need not add that I felt the compliment properly. Captain Chauncey showed me an American and very pretty edition of my poems, and offered me a passage to the United States, if I would go there. Commodore Jones was also not less kind and attentive. I have since received the enclosed letter, desiring me to sit for my picture for some Americans. It is singular that, in the same year that Lady Noel leaves by will an interdiction for my daughter to see her father’s portrait for many years, the individuals of a nation, not remarkable for their liking to the English in particular, nor for flattering men in general, request me to sit for my ‘pourtraicture,’ as Baron Bradwardine calls it. I am also told of considerable literary honours in Germany. Goethe, I am told, is my professed patron and protector. At Leipsic, this year, the highest prize was proposed for a translation of two cantos of Childe Harold. I am not sure that this was at Leipsic, but Mr. Rowcroft was my authority — a good German scholar (a young American), and an acquaintance of Goethe’s.

  “Goethe and the Germans are particularly fond of Don Juan, which they judge of as a work of art. I had heard something of this before through Baron Lutzerode. The translations have been very frequent of several of the works, and Goethe made a comparison between Faust and Manfred.

  “All this is some compensation for your English native brutality, so fully displayed this year to its highest extent.

  “I forgot to mention a little anecdote of a different kind. I went over the Constitution (the Commodore’s flag-ship), and saw, among other things worthy of remark, a little boy born on board of her by a sailor’s wife. They had christened him ‘Constitution Jones.’ I, of course, approved the name; and the woman added, ‘Ah, sir, if he turns out but half as good as his name!’

  “Yours ever,” &c.

  LETTER. 495. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Montenero, near Leghorn, May 29. 1822.

  “I return you the proofs revised. Your printer has made one odd mistake:— ‘poor as a mouse,’ instead of ‘poor as a miser.’ The expression may seem strange, but it is only a translation of ‘semper avarus eget.’ You will add the Mystery, and publish as soon as you can. I care nothing for your ‘season,’ nor the blue approbations or disapprobations. All that is to be considered by you on the subject is as a matter of business; and if I square that to your notions (even to the running the risk entirely myself), you may permit me to choose my own time and mode of publication. With regard to the late volume, the present run against it or me may impede it for a time, but it has the vital principle of permanency within it, as you may perhaps one day discover. I wrote to you on another subject a few days ago.

  Yours, N.B.

  “P.S. Please to send me the Dedication of Sardanapalu
s to Goethe. I shall prefix it to Werner, unless you prefer my putting another, stating that the former had been omitted by the publisher.

  “On the title-page of the present volume, put ‘Published for the Author by J.M.’”

  LETTER 496. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Montenero, Leghorn, June 6. 1822.

  “I return you the revise of Werner, and expect the rest. With regard to the Lines to the Po, perhaps you had better put them quietly in a second edition (if you reach one, that is to say) than in the first; because, though they have been reckoned fine, and I wish them to be preserved, I do not wish them to attract IMMEDIATE observation, on account of the relationship of the lady to whom they are addressed with the first families in Romagna and the Marches.

  “The defender of ‘Cain’ may or may not be, as you term him, ‘a tyro in literature:’ however I think both you and I are under great obligation to him. I have read the Edinburgh review in Galignani’s Magazine, and have not yet decided whether to answer them or not; for, if I do, it will be difficult for me not ‘to make sport for the Philistines’ by pulling down a house or two; since, when I once take pen in hand, I must say what comes uppermost, or fling it away. I have not the hypocrisy to pretend impartiality, nor the temper (as it is called) to keep always from saying what may not be pleasing to the hearer or reader. What do they mean by ‘elaborate?’ Why, you know that they were written as fast as I could put pen to paper, and printed from the original MSS., and never revised but in the proofs: look at the dates and the MSS. themselves. Whatever faults they have must spring from carelessness, and not from labour. They said the same of ‘Lara,’ which I wrote while undressing after coming home from balls and masquerades, in the year of revelry 1814. Yours.”