The Works Of Lord Byron, Letters and Journals, Vol. 1

L >> Lord Byron, Edited by Rowland E. Prothero >> The Works Of Lord Byron, Letters and Journals, Vol. 1

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[Footnote 3: For "monastic Zitza," see 'Childe Harold', Canto II. stanza
xlviii., and Byron's note.]

[Footnote 4: See 'Lay of the Last Minstrel', canto i.]

[Footnote 5: William Martin Leake (1777-1860) received his commission as
second lieutenant in the artillery in 1794, became a captain in 1799,
major in 1809, and lieutenant-colonel in 1813. His professional life, up
to 1815, was spent abroad, chiefly at Constantinople, in Egypt, or in
various parts of European Turkey. In 1808 he had been sent by the
British Government with stores of artillery, ammunition, and Congreve
rockets, to Ali, Pasha of Albania, and he remained at Preveza, or
Janina, as the representative of Great Britain, till 1810. During his
travels he collected the vases, gems, bronzes, marbles, and coins now
placed in the British Museum, and in the Fitzwilliam Museum at
Cambridge. At the same time, he accumulated the materials which, during
his literary life (1815-59), he embodied in numerous books. Of these the
more important are--'The Topography of Athens' (1821); 'Journal of a
Tour in Asia Minor' (1824); 'An Historical Outline of the Greek
Revolution' (1825); 'Travels in the Morea' (1830); 'Travels in Northern
Greece' (1835); 'Numismata Hellenica' (1854-59). As a diplomatist he was
remarkably successful; but his reputation mainly rests on his
topographical works. With his antiquarian labours Byron would have had
little sympathy; but Leake was also a warm-hearted advocate of the
Christian population of Greece against their Turkish rulers.]

[Footnote 6: The battle of Actium (B.C. 31) was fought at the entrance
of the Gulf of Arta, and Nicopolis, the city of victory, the
'Palaio-Kastro' of the modern Greek, was founded by Augustus on an
isthmus connecting Prevesa with the mainland to commemorate his triumph.
Leake ('Travels in Northern Greece', vol. i. p. 175) identifies Actium
with Punda ([Greek (transliterated: aktae], "the head of a promontory")
on the headland opposite Prevesa (see 'Childe Harold', Canto II. stanza
xlv.).]

[Footnote 7: "Upon Parnassus going to the fountain of Delphi (Castri) in
1809," writes Byron, in his 'Diary' for 1821 ('Life', pp. 99, 100),

"I saw a flight of twelve eagles (H. says they were vultures--at least
in conversation), and I seized the omen. On the day before I composed
the lines to Parnassus (in 'Childe Harold'), and, on beholding the
birds, had a hope that Apollo had accepted my homage. I have at least
had the name and fame of a poet during the poetical part of life (from
twenty to thirty);--whether it will 'last' is another matter."

(For the lines to Parnassus, see 'Childe Harold', Canto I. stanzas
lx.-lxii.) To this journey belongs another incident, recorded by Byron.

"The last bird I ever fired at was an eaglet, on the shore of
the Gulf of Lepanto, near Vostizza. It was only wounded, and I tried
to save it,--the eye was so bright. But it pined, and died in a few
days; and I never did since, and never will, attempt the death of
another bird."]

[Footnote 8: Rear-Admiral Sir Alexander John Ball (1757-1809), who
belonged to a Gloucestershire family, entered the navy, inspired by
'Robinson Crusoe'. A lieutenant in 1778, he distinguished himself with
Rodney in 1782 (post-captain, 1783; rear-admiral, 1805), and at the
battle of the Nile, when he commanded the 'Alexander'. Nelson had no
liking for Ball until the latter saved the dismasted 'Vanguard' from
going on shore by taking her in tow. Henceforward they were friends, and
Nelson spoke of him as one of his "three right arms." By his skill in
blockading Valetta (1798-1800), Ball was the hero of the siege of Malta,
and (June 6, 1801) was created a baronet for his services, and received
the Order of Merit from Ferdinand IV of Naples. When Byron met him, Ball
was "His Majesty's Civil Commissioner for the Island of Malta and its
Dependencies, and Minister Plenipotentiary to the Order of St. John."
S.T. Coleridge, who was with him as secretary from May, 1804, to
October, 1805, wrote enthusiastically of him in his letters, and in 'The
Friend' (3rd edit., vol. i. essay i., and vol. iii. pp. 226-301). But
his picture of the admiral would have been more definite had he
remembered the spirit of the remark (quoted in 'The Friend') which Ball
once made to him:

"The distinction is just, and, now I understand you, abundantly
obvious; but hardly worth the trouble of your inventing a puzzle of
words to make it appear otherwise."]

[Footnote 9: Hussein Bey, then a boy of ten years old, son of Mouctar
Pasha, the eldest son of Ali, in after years (1820-22) remained faithful
to his grandfather, when his father, uncles, and cousin had gone over to
the Sultan, and held Tepeleni for Ali in his last struggle against the
Turks. Mahomet Pasha, son of Veli Pasha, second son of Ali, though only
twelve years old, was already in possession of a pashalik. In Ali's
contest with Turkey, he betrayed Parga to the Sultan, and persuaded his
father to surrender Prevesa. He was, however, rewarded for his treachery
by execution, and is among the five members of his family who lie buried
at the Silivria Gate at Constantinople (Walsh's 'Narrative', p. 67).]

132.--To his Mother.

Smyrna, March 19, 1810.

DEAR MOTHER,--I cannot write you a long letter; but as I know you will
not be sorry to receive any intelligence of my movements, pray accept
what I can give. I have traversed the greatest part of Greece, besides
Epirus, etc., etc., resided ten weeks at Athens, and am now on the
Asiatic side on my way to Constantinople. I have just returned from
viewing the ruins of Ephesus, a day's journey from Smyrna. [1] I
presume you have received a long letter I wrote from Albania, with an
account of my reception by the Pacha of the Province.

When I arrive at Constantinople, I shall determine whether to proceed
into Persia or return, which latter I do not wish, if I can avoid it.
But I have no intelligence from Mr. Hanson, and but one letter from
yourself. I shall stand in need of remittances whether I proceed or
return. I have written to him repeatedly, that he may not plead
ignorance of my situation for neglect. I can give you no account of
any thing, for I have not time or opportunity, the frigate sailing
immediately. Indeed the further I go the more my laziness increases,
and my aversion to letter-writing becomes more confirmed. I have
written to no one but to yourself and Mr. Hanson, and these are
communications of business and duty rather than of inclination.

Fletcher is very much disgusted with his fatigues, though he has
undergone nothing that I have not shared. He is a poor creature;
indeed English servants are detestable travellers. I have, besides
him, two Albanian soldiers and a Greek interpreter; all excellent in
their way. Greece, particularly in the vicinity of Athens, is
delightful;--cloudless skies and lovely landscapes. But I must reserve
all account of my adventures till we meet. I keep no journal, but my
friend Hobhouse scribbles incessantly. Pray take care of Murray and
Robert, and tell the boy it is the most fortunate thing for him that
he did not accompany me to Turkey. Consider this as merely a notice of
my safety, and believe me,

Yours, etc., etc.,

BYRON.

[Footnote 1: It was at Smyrna that the two first cantos of 'Childe
Harold' were completed. To his original MS. of the poem is prefixed the
following memorandum:--

"Byron, Ioannina in Albania.
Begun October 31st, 1809;
Concluded Canto 2d, Smyrna,
March 28th, 1810.

--BYRON."]

133.--To his Mother.

Smyrna, April 9, 1810.

Dear Mother,--I know you will be glad to hear from me: I wish I could
say I am equally delighted to write. However, there is no great loss
in my scribbles, except to the portmanteau-makers, who, I suppose,
will get all by and by.

Nobody but yourself asks me about my creed,--what I am, am not, etc.,
etc. If I were to begin _explaining_, God knows where I should leave
off; so we will say no more about that, if you please.

I am no "good soul," and not an atheist, but an English gentleman, I
hope, who loves his mother, mankind, and his country. I have not time
to write more at present, and beg you to believe me,

Ever yours, etc.,

BYRON.

P.S.-Are the Miss----anxiously expecting my arrival and
contributions to their gossip and _rhymes_, which are about as bad as
they can be?

B.

134.--To his Mother.

Smyrna, April 10, 1810.

Dear Mother,--To-morrow, or this evening, I sail for Constantinople in
the 'Salsette' frigate, of thirty-six guns. She returns to England
with our ambassador, [1] whom she is going up on purpose to receive. I
have written to you short letters from Athens, Smyrna, and a long one
from Albania. I have not yet mustered courage for a second large
epistle, and you must not be angry, since I take all opportunities of
apprizing you of my safety; but even that is an effort, writing is so
irksome.

I have been traversing Greece, and Epirus, Illyria, etc., etc., and
you see by my date, have got into Asia. I have made but one excursion
lately to the ruins of Ephesus. Malta is the rendez-vous of my
letters, so address to that island. Mr. Hanson has not written, though
I wished to hear of the Norfolk sale, [2] the Lancashire law-suit,
etc., etc., I am anxiously expecting fresh remittances. I believe you
will like Nottinghamshire, at least my share of it. [3] Pray accept my
good wishes in lieu of a long letter, and believe me,

Yours sincerely and affectionately,

BYRON.

[Footnote 1: Robert (afterwards the Right Hon. Sir Robert) Adair
(1763-1855), son of Sergeant-Surgeon Adair and Lady Caroline Keppel,
described by an Austrian aristocrat as "le fils du plus grand 'Seigneur'
d'Angleterre," was educated at Westminster and the University of
Gottingen." At the latter place Adair, always, as his kinsman Lord
Albemarle said of him, "an enthusiastic admirer of the fair sex"
('Recollections', vol. i. p. 229), fell in love with his tutor's
daughter. He did not, however, marry "Sweet Matilda Pottingen," but
Angelique Gabrielle, daughter of the Marquis d'Hazincourt. He is
supposed to have contributed to the 'Rolliad'; and the "Dedication to
Sir Lloyd Kenyon," "Margaret Nicholson" ('Political Eclogues', p. 207),
and the "Song of Scrutina" ('Probationary Odes', p. 285), have been
attributed to him. He, however, denied (Moore's 'Journal and
Correspondence', vol. ii. p. 304) that he wrote any part of the
'Rolliad'. A Whig, and an intimate friend and follower of Fox, he was in
1791 at St. Petersburg, where the Tories believed that he had been sent
by his chief on "half a mission" to intrigue with Russia against Pitt.
The charge was published by Dr. Pretyman, Bishop of Winchester, in his
'Life of Pitt' (1821), who may have wished to pay off old scores, and to
retaliate on one of the reputed authors of the 'Rolliad' for the
"Pretymaniana," and was answered in 'Two Letters from Mr. Adair to the
Bishop of Winchester'. It is to this accusation that Ellis and Frere, in
the 'Anti-Jacobin', refer in "A Bit of an Ode to Mr. Fox" ('Poetry of
the Anti-Jacobin', edit. 1854, pp. 71-73):--

"I mount, I mount into the sky,
Sweet bird, to 'Petersburg' I'll fly,
Or, if you bid, to 'Paris'.
Fresh missions of the 'Fox' and 'Goose'
Successful 'Treaties' may produce,
Though Pitt in all miscarries."

Sir James Mackintosh, speaking of the story, told Moore ('Journals and
Correspondence', vol. iv. p. 267) that a private letter from Adair,
reporting his conversations with a high official in St. Petersburg, fell
into the hands of the British Government; that some members of the
Council were desirous of taking proceedings upon it; but that Lord
Grenville and Pitt threatened to resign, if any use was made of such a
document so obtained. (See also the "Translation of a Letter from
Bawba-Dara-Adul-Phoola," etc.--'i.e.' "Bob Adair, a dull fool"--in the
'Anti-Jacobin', p. 208.) Adair was in 1806 sent by Fox as Ambassador to
Vienna, and in 1809 was appointed by Canning Ambassador Extraordinary at
Constantinople, where, with Stratford Canning as his secretary, he
negotiated the Treaty of the Dardanelles. For his services, on his
return in 1810, he was made a K.C.B. He was subsequently (1831-35)
employed on a mission to the Low Countries, when war appeared imminent
between William, Prince of Orange and King Leopold. He was afterwards
sworn a member of the Privy Council, and received a pension. George
Ticknor ('Life', vol. i. p. 269), who met him at Woburn in 1819, speaks
of his great conversational charms, and Moore ('Journals and
Correspondence', vol. vii. p. 216) describes him, in 1838, as a man
"from whom one gets, now and then, an agreeable whiff of the days of
Fox, Tickell, and Sheridan." Many years after Fox's death, Adair was at
a fete at Chiswick House. "'In which room,' he asked of Samuel Rogers,
'did Fox expire?' 'In this very room,' I replied. Immediately, Adair
burst into tears with a vehemence of grief such as I hardly ever saw
exhibited by a man" ('Recollections of the Table-Talk of Samuel Rogers',
p. 97).]

[Footnote 2: The sale of Wymondham and other property in Norfolk, which
had come to him through his great-uncle.]

[Footnote 3: Probably an allusion to his mother leaving Burgage Manor
and taking up her residence at Newstead.]

135.--To his Mother.

_Salsette Frigate, off the Dardanelles_, April 17, 1810.

Dear Madam,--I write at anchor (on our way to Constantinople) off the
Troad, which I traversed ten days ago. All the remains of Troy are the
tombs of her destroyers, amongst which I saw that of Antilochus from my
cabin window. These are large mounds of earth, like the barrows of the
Danes in your island. There are several monuments, about twelve miles
distant, of the Alexandrian Troas, which I also examined, but by no
means to be compared with the remnants of Athens and Ephesus. This will
be sent in a ship of war, bound with despatches for Malta. In a few days
we shall be at Constantinople, barring accidents. I have also written
from Smyrna, and shall, from time to time, transmit short accounts of my
movements, but I feel totally unequal to long letters.

Believe me, yours very sincerely,

BYRON.

P.S.--No accounts from Hanson!!! Do not complain of short letters; I
write to nobody but yourself and Mr. H.

136.--To Henry Drury.

_Salsette_ frigate, May 3, 1810.

My Dear Drury,--When I left England, nearly a year ago, you requested
me to write to you--I will do so. I have crossed Portugal, traversed
the south of Spain, visited Sardinia, Sicily, Malta, and thence passed
into Turkey, where I am still wandering. I first landed in Albania,
the ancient Epirus, where we penetrated as far as Mount Tomarit--
excellently treated by the chief Ali Pacha,--and, after journeying
through Illyria, Chaonia, etc., crossed the Gulf of Actium, with a
guard of fifty Albanians, and passed the Achelous in our route through
Acarnania and AEtolia. We stopped a short time in the Morea, crossed
the Gulf of Lepanto, and landed at the foot of Parnassus;--saw all
that Delphi retains, and so on to Thebes and Athens, at which last we
remained ten weeks.

His Majesty's ship, _Pylades_, brought us to Smyrna; but not before we
had topographised Attica, including, of course, Marathon and the
Sunian promontory. From Smyrna to the Troad (which we visited when at
anchor, for a fortnight, off the tomb of Antilochus) was our next
stage; and now we are in the Dardanelles, waiting for a wind to
proceed to Constantinople.

This morning I _swam_ from _Sestos_ to _Abydos_. [1] The immediate
distance is not above a mile, but the current renders it
hazardous;--so much so that I doubt whether Leander's conjugal
affection must not have been a little chilled in his passage to
Paradise. I attempted it a week ago, and failed,--owing to the north
wind, and the wonderful rapidity of the tide,--though I have been from
my childhood a strong swimmer. But, this morning being calmer, I
succeeded, and crossed the "broad Hellespont" in an hour and ten
minutes.

Well, my dear sir, I have left my home, and seen part of Africa and
Asia, and a tolerable portion of Europe. I have been with generals and
admirals, princes and pashas, governors and ungovernables,--but I have
not time or paper to expatiate. I wish to let you know that I live
with a friendly remembrance of you, and a hope to meet you again; and
if I do this as shortly as possible, attribute it to any thing but
forgetfulness.

Greece, ancient and modern, you know too well to require description.
Albania, indeed, I have seen more of than any Englishman (except a Mr.
Leake), for it is a country rarely visited, from the savage character
of the natives, though abounding in more natural beauties than the
classical regions of Greece,--which, however, are still eminently
beautiful, particularly Delphi and Cape Colonna in Attica. Yet these
are nothing to parts of Illyria and Epirus, where places without a
name, and rivers not laid down in maps, may, one day, when more known,
be justly esteemed superior subjects, for the pencil and the pen, to
the dry ditch of the Ilissus and the bogs of Boeotia.

The Troad is a fine field for conjecture and snipe-shooting, and a
good sportsman and an ingenious scholar may exercise their feet and
faculties to great advantage upon the spot;--or, if they prefer
riding, lose their way (as I did) in a cursed quagmire of the
Scamander, who wriggles about as if the Dardan virgins still offered
their wonted tribute. The only vestige of Troy, or her destroyers, are
the barrows supposed to contain the carcasses of Achilles, Antilochus,
Ajax, etc.;--but Mount Ida is still in high feather, though the
shepherds are now-a-days not much like Ganymede. But why should I say
more of these things? are they not written in the _Boke_ of _Gell_?
[2] and has not Hobhouse got a journal? I keep none, as I have
renounced scribbling.

I see not much difference between ourselves and the Turks, save that
we have----and they have none--that they have long dresses, and we
short, and that we talk much, and they little. They are sensible
people. Ali Pacha told me he was sure I was a man of rank, because I
had _small ears_ and _hands_, and _curling hair_. By the by, I speak
the Romaic, or modern Greek, tolerably. It does not differ from the
ancient dialects so much as you would conceive; but the pronunciation
is diametrically opposite. Of verse, except in rhyme, they have no
idea.

I like the Greeks, who are plausible rascals,--with all the Turkish
vices, without their courage. However, some are brave, and all are
beautiful, very much resembling the busts of Alcibiades;--the women
not quite so handsome. I can swear in Turkish; but, except one
horrible oath, and "pimp," and "bread," and "water," I have got no
great vocabulary in that language. They are extremely polite to
strangers of any rank, properly protected; and as I have two servants
and two soldiers, we get on with great eclat. We have been
occasionally in danger of thieves, and once of shipwreck,--but always
escaped.

Of Spain I sent some account to our Hodgson, but have subsequently
written to no one, save notes to relations and lawyers, to keep them
out of my premises. I mean to give up all connection, on my return,
with many of my best friends--as I supposed them-and to snarl all my
life. But I hope to have one good-humoured laugh with you, and to
embrace Dwyer, and pledge Hodgson, before I commence cynicism.

Tell Dr. Butler I am now writing with the gold pen he gave me before I
left England, which is the reason my scrawl is more unintelligible
than usual. I have been at Athens, and seen plenty of these reeds for
scribbling, some of which he refused to bestow upon me, because
topographic Gell had brought them from Attica. But I will not
describe,--no--you must be satisfied with simple detail till my
return, and then we will unfold the floodgates of colloquy. I am in a
thirty-six gun frigate, going up to fetch Bob Adair from
Constantinople, who will have the honour to carry this letter.

And so Hobhouse's _boke_ is out, [3] with some sentimental sing-song
of my own to fill up,--and how does it take, eh? and where the devil
is the second edition of my Satire, with additions? and my name on the
title page? and more lines tagged to the end, with a new exordium and
what not, hot from my anvil before I cleared the Channel? The
Mediterranean and the Atlantic roll between me and criticism; and the
thunders of the Hyperborean Review are deafened by the roar of the
Hellespont.

Remember me to Claridge, [4] if not translated to college, and present
to Hodgson assurances of my high consideration. Now, you will ask,
what shall I do next? and I answer, I do not know. I may return in a
few months, but I have intents and projects after visiting
Constantinople. Hobhouse, however, will probably be back in September.

On the 2d of July we have left Albion one year--_oblitus meorum
obliviscendus et illis_. I was sick of my own country, and not much
prepossessed in favour of any other; but I "drag on my chain" without
"lengthening it at each remove." [5] I am like the Jolly Miller,
caring for nobody, and not cared for. [6] All countries are much the
same in my eyes. I smoke, and stare at mountains, and twirl my
mustachios very independently. I miss no comforts, and the musquitoes
that rack the morbid frame of H. have, luckily for me, little effect
on mine, because I live more temperately.

I omitted Ephesus in my catalogue, which I visited during my sojourn
at Smyrna; but the Temple has almost perished, and St. Paul need not
trouble himself to epistolise the present brood of Ephesians, who have
converted a large church built entirely of marble into a mosque, and I
don't know that the edifice looks the worse for it.

My paper is full, and my ink ebbing--good afternoon! If you address to
me at Malta, the letter will be forwarded wherever I may be. H. greets
you; he pines for his poetry,--at least, some tidings of it. I almost
forgot to tell you that I am dying for love of three Greek girls at
Athens, sisters. I lived in the same house. Teresa, Mariana, and
Katinka, [7] are the names of these divinities,--all of them under
fifteen.

Your [Greek (transliterated): tapeinotatos doulos], BYRON.

[Footnote 1: Byron made two attempts to swim across the Hellespont from
Abydos to Sestos. The first, April 16, failed; the second, May 3, in
warmer weather, succeeded.

"Byron was one hour and ten minutes in the water; his companion, Mr.
Ekenhead, five minutes less ... My fellow-traveller had before made a
more perilous, but less celebrated, passage; for I recollect that,
when we were in Portugal, he swam from Old Lisbon to Belem Castle,
and, having to contend with a tide and counter-current, the wind
blowing freshly, was but little less than two hours in crossing the
river"

(Hobhouse, 'Travels in Albania', etc., vol. ii. p. 195). In Hobhouse's
journal, Byron made the following note:

"The whole distance E. and myself swam was more than four miles--the
current very strong and cold--some large fish near us when half
across--we were not fatigued, but a little chilled--did it with little
difficulty.--May 26, 1810. BYRON."

Of his feat Byron was always proud. See the "Lines Written after
Swimming from Sestos to Abydos" ("by the by, from Abydos to Sestos would
have been more correct"), and 'Don Juan', Canto II. stanza cv.:--

"A better swimmer you could scarce see ever;
He could, perhaps, have pass'd the Hellespont,
As once (a feat on which ourselves we prided)
Leander, Mr. Ekenhead, and I did."

In a note to the "Lines Written after Swimming from Sestos to Abydos,"
Byron writes,

"Chevalier says that a young Jew swam the same distance for his
mistress; and Oliver mentions its having been done by a Neapolitan;
but our consul, Tarragona, remembered neither of these circumstances,
and tried to dissuade us from the attempt. A number of the
'Salsette''s crew were known to have accomplished a greater distance;
and the only thing that surprised me was that, as doubts had been
entertained of the truth of Leander's story, no traveller had ever
endeavoured to ascertain its practicability."

Lieutenant Ekenhead, of the Marines, was afterwards killed by a fall
from the fortifications of Malta.]

[Footnote 2: Sir William Gell (1777-1836) published the 'Topography of
Troy' (1804); 'Geography and Antiquities of Ithaca' (1807); the
'Itinerary of Greece' (1810); and many other subsequent works. (For
Byron's review of 'Ithaca' and 'Greece', in the 'Monthly Review' for
August, 1811, see Appendix III.) In the MS. of 'English Bards, and
Scotch Reviewers' (line 1034) he called him "coxcomb Gell;" but, having
made his personal acquaintance before the Satire was printed, he changed
the epithet to "classic." After seeing the country himself, he again
altered the epithet--

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