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

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"Of Dardan tours let Dilettanti tell,
I leave topography to rapid Gell."

To these lines is appended the following note:

"'Rapid,' indeed! He topographised and typographised King Priam's
dominions in three days! I called him 'classic' before I saw the
Troad, but since have learned better than to tack to his name what
don't belong to it."

To this passage Byron, in 1816, added the further expression of his
opinion, that "Gell's survey was hasty and superficial." One of two
suppressed stanzas in 'Childe Harold' (Canto II. stanza xiii.) refers to
Gell and his works:--

"Or will the gentle Dilettanti crew
Now delegate the task to digging Gell?
That mighty limner of a bird's-eye view,
How like to Nature let his volumes tell;
Who can with him the folio's limits swell
With all the Author saw, or said he saw?
Who can topographise or delve so well?
No boaster he, nor impudent and raw,
His pencil, pen, and shade, alike without a flaw."]

[Footnote 3: 'Imitations and Translations from the Ancient and Modern
Classics, etc.' (London, 1809, 8vo). Of the sixty-five pieces, nine were
by Byron (see 'Poems', vol. i., Bibliographical note; and vol. vi.,
Bibliographical note). The second and enlarged edition of 'English
Bards, and Scotch Reviewers', with Byron's name attached, appeared in
October, 1809.]

[Footnote 4: Two boys of this name, sons of J. Claridge, of Sevenoaks,
entered Harrow School in April, 1805. George became a. solicitor, and
died at Sevenoaks in 1841; John (afterwards Sir John) went to Christ
Church, Oxford, became a barrister, and died in 1868. John Claridge
seems to have been one of Byron's "juniors and favourites," whom he
"spoilt by indulgence."]

[Footnote 5:

"Still to my brother turns with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain."

GOLDSMITH'S Traveller, lines 9, 10.]

[Footnote 6: The allusion is to the familiar lines inserted by Isaac
Bickerstaffe in 'Love in a Village' (1762), act i. sc. 3--

"There was a jolly miller once,
Liv'd on the river Dee;
He work'd and sung from morn till night;
No lark more blithe than he.

"And this the burden of his song,
For ever us'd to be--
I care for nobody, not I,
If no one cares for me."]

[Footnote 7:

"During our stay at Athens," writes Hobhouse ('Travels in Albania,
etc.', vol. i. pp. 242, 243), "we occupied two houses separated from
each other only by a single wall, through which we opened a doorway.
One of them belongs to a Greek lady, whose name is Theodora Macri, the
daughter of the late English Vice-Consul, and who has to show many
letters of recommendation left in her hands by several English
travellers. Her lodgings consisted of a sitting-room and two bedrooms,
opening into a court-yard where there were five or six lemon-trees,
from which, during our residence in the place, was plucked the fruit
that seasoned the pilaf and other national dishes served up at our
frugal table."

The beauty of the Greek women is transient. Hughes ('Travels
in Sicily, etc.', vol. i. p. 254, published in 1820) speaks of the three
daughters of Madame Macri as "the 'belles' of Athens." Of Theresa,
the eldest, he says that "her countenance was extremely interesting,
and her eye retained much of its wonted brilliancy; but the roses
had already deserted the cheek, and we observed the remains only
of that loveliness which elicited such strains from an impassioned
poet." Walsh, in his 'Narrative of a Resident in Constantinople'
(vol. i. p. 122), speaks of Theresa Macri, the "Maid of Athens,"
whom he saw in 1821, as "still very elegant in her person, and
gentle and ladylike in her manners," but adds that "she has
lost all pretensions to beauty, and has a countenance singularly
marked by hopeless sadness." On the other hand, Williams, in
his 'Travels in Italy, etc.' (vol. ii. pp. 290, 291), speaks, in 1820,
with an artist's enthusiasm, of the beauty of the three daughters of
Theodora Macri. He quotes from the "Visitors' Book," to which
Hobhouse alludes, four lines written by Byron in answer to an
anonymous versifier--

"This modest bard, like many a bard unknown,
Rhymes on our names, but wisely hides his own;
But yet, whoe'er he be, to say no worse,
His name would bring more credit than his verse."

Theresa and Mariana Macri were dark; Katinka was fair. The latter name
Byron uses as that of the fair Georgian in 'Don Juan' (Canto VI. stanza
xli.).

"It was," says Moore, "if I recollect right, in making love to one of
these girls that he had recourse to an act of courtship often
practised in that country;--namely, giving himself a wound across the
breast with his dagger. The young Athenian, by his own account, looked
on very coolly during the operation, considering it a fit tribute to
her beauty, but in no degree moved to gratitude."

Theresa, sometimes called Thyrza, Macri married an Englishman named
Black, employed in H.M.'s Consular service at Missolonghi. She survived
her husband, and fell into great poverty. Finlay, the historian of
Greece, made an appeal on her behalf, which obtained the support of the
leading members of Athenian society, including M. Charilaus Tricoupi,
for some time Prime Minister at Athens, the son of Spiridion
Tricoupi--Byron's intimate friend. In the 'New York Times' for October
22, 1875, Mr. Anthony Martelaus, United States Consular Agent at Athens,
describes Mrs. Black, whom he visited in August, 1875, as "a tall old
lady, with features inspiring reverence, and showing that at a time past
she was a beautiful woman." Theresa Black died October 15, 1875, aged 80
years. (See letters to the 'Times', October 25 and October 27, 1875, by
Richard Edgcumbe and Neocles Mussabini respectively.)]

137.--To Francis Hodgson.

'Salsette' frigate, in the Dardanelles, off Abydos, May 5, 1810.

I am on my way to Constantinople, after a tour through Greece, Epirus,
etc., and part of Asia Minor, some particulars of which I have just
communicated to our friend and host, H. Drury. With these, then, I shall
not trouble you; but as you will perhaps be pleased to hear that I am
well, etc., I take the opportunity of our ambassador's return to forward
the few lines I have time to despatch. We have undergone some
inconveniences, and incurred partial perils, but no events worthy of
communication, unless you will deem it one that two days ago I swam from
Sestos to Abydos. This, with a few alarms from robbers, and some danger
of shipwreck in a Turkish galliot six months ago, a visit to a Pacha, a
passion for a married woman at Malta, [1] a challenge to an officer, an
attachment to three Greek girls at Athens, with a great deal of
buffoonery and fine prospects, form all that has distinguished my
progress since my departure from Spain.

Hobhouse rhymes and journalises; I stare and do nothing--unless smoking
can be deemed an active amusement. The Turks take too much care of their
women to permit them to be scrutinised; but I have lived a good deal
with the Greeks, whose modern dialect I can converse in enough for my
purposes. With the Turks I have also some male acquaintances--female
society is out of the question. I have been very well treated by the
Pachas and Governors, and have no complaint to make of any kind.
Hobhouse will one day inform you of all our adventures--were I to
attempt the recital, neither _my_ paper nor _your_ patience would hold
out during the operation.

Nobody, save yourself, has written to me since I left England; but
indeed I did not request it. I except my relations, who write quite as
often as I wish. Of Hobhouse's volume I know nothing, except that it is
out; and of my second edition I do not even know _that_, and certainly
do not, at this distance, interest myself in the matter. I hope you and
Bland [2] roll down the stream of sale with rapidity.

Of my return I cannot positively speak, but think it probable Hobhouse
will precede me in that respect. We have been very nearly one year
abroad. I should wish to gaze away another, at least, in these evergreen
climates; but I fear business, law business, the worst of employments,
will recall me previous to that period, if not very quickly. If so, you
shall have due notice.

I hope you will find me an altered personage,--I do not mean in body,
but in manner, for I begin to find out that nothing but virtue will do
in this damned world. I am tolerably sick of vice, which I have tried in
its agreeable varieties, and mean, on my return, to cut all my dissolute
acquaintance, leave off wine and carnal company, and betake myself to
politics and decorum. I am very serious and cynical, and a good deal
disposed to moralise; but fortunately for you the coming homily is cut
off by default of pen and defection of paper.

Good morrow! If you write, address to me at Malta, whence your letters
will be forwarded. You need not remember me to any body, but believe me,

Yours with all faith,

BYRON.

Constantinople, May 15, 1810.

P.S.--My dear H.,--The date of my postscript "will prate to you of my
whereabouts." We anchored between the Seven Towers and the Seraglio on
the 13th, and yesterday settled ashore. [3] The ambassador [4] is laid
up; but the secretary [5] does the honours of the palace, and we have a
general invitation to his palace. In a short time he has his leave of
audience, and we accompany him in our uniforms to the Sultan, etc., and
in a few days I am to visit the Captain Pacha with the commander of our
frigate. [6] I have seen enough of their Pashas already; but I wish to
have a view of the Sultan, the last of the Ottoman race.

Of Constantinople you have Gibbon's description, very correct as far
as I have seen. The mosques I shall have a firman to visit. I shall
most probably ('Deo volente'), after a full inspection of Stamboul,
bend my course homewards; but this is uncertain. I have seen the most
interesting parts, particularly Albania, where few Franks have ever
been, and all the most celebrated ruins of Greece and Ionia.

Of England I know nothing, hear nothing, and can find no person better
informed on the subject than myself. I this moment drink your health in
a bumper of hock; Hobhouse fills and empties to the same; do you and
Drury pledge us in a pint of any liquid you please--vinegar will bear
the nearest resemblance to that which I have just swallowed to your
name; but when we meet again the draught shall be mended and the wine
also.

Yours ever,

B.

[Footnote 1: Mrs. Spencer Smith (see page 244 [Letter 130], [Foot]note 1
[2]).

"In the mean time," writes Galt, who was at Malta with him, "besides
his "Platonic dalliance with Mrs. Spencer Smith, Byron had involved
himself in a quarrel with an officer; but it was satisfactorily
settled"

('Life of Byron', p. 67).]

[Footnote 2: The Rev. Robert Bland (1780-1825), the son of a well-known
London doctor, educated at Harrow and Pembroke College, Cambridge, was
an assistant-master at Harrow when Byron was a schoolboy. There he
became one of a "social club or circle," to which belonged J. Herman
Merivale, Hodgson, Henry Drury, Denman (afterwards Lord Chief Justice),
Charles Pepys (afterwards Lord Chancellor), Launcelot Shadwell
(afterwards Vice-Chancellor), Walford (afterwards Solicitor to the
Customs), and Paley, a son of the archdeacon. A good singer, an amusing
companion, and a clever, impulsive, eccentric creature, he was nicknamed
by his friends "Don Hyperbolo" for his humorous extravagances. Some of
his letters, together with a sketch of his life, are given in the 'Life
of the Rev. Francis Hodgson', vol. i. pp. 226-250. In the 'Monthly
Magazine' for March, 1805, he and Merivale began to publish a series of
translations from the Greek minor poets and epigrammatists, which were
afterwards collected, with additions by Denman, Hodgson, Drury, and
others, and published (1806) under the title of 'Translations, chiefly
from the Greek Anthology, with Tales and Miscellaneous Poems'. Bland and
Merivale (1779-1844) are addressed by Byron ('English Bards, and Scotch
Reviewers', lines 881-890) as "associate bards," and adjured to "resign
Achaia's lyre, and strike your own." The two friends also collaborated
in the 'Collections from the Greek Anthology' (1813), and 'A Collection
of the most Beautiful Poems of the Minor Poets of Greece' (1813). Bland
also published two volumes of original verse: 'Edwy and Elgiva' (1808),
and 'The Four Slaves of Cythera, a Poetical Romance' (1809). Several
generations of schoolboys have learned to write Latin verse from his
'Elements of Latin Hexameters and Pentameters'. A lover of France, and
of the French nation and of French acting, he spoke the language like a
native, travelled in disguise over the countries occupied by Napoleon's
armies, and (1813) published, in collaboration with Miss Plumptre, a
translation of the 'Memoirs' of Baron Grimm and Diderot. He was
appointed Chaplain at Amsterdam, whence he returned in 1811. (For the
circumstances of his quarrel with Hodgson, see page 195 [Letter 102],
[Foot]note 1.) He was successively Curate of Prittlewell and Kenilworth.
At the latter place, where he eked out a scanty income by taking pupils,
he died in 1825 from breaking a blood-vessel.]

[Footnote 3: Byron and Hobhouse landed on May 14, and rode to their inn.

"This," says Hobhouse ('Travels in Albania, etc.', vol. ii pp. 216,
217), "was situated at the corner of the main street of Pera, here
four ways meet, all of which were not less mean and dirty than the
lanes of Wapping. The hotel, however (kept by a Mons. Marchand), was a
very comfortable mansion, containing many chambers handsomely
furnished, and a large billiard-room, which is the resort of all the
idle young men of the place. Our dinners there were better served, and
composed of meats more to the English taste, than we had seen at any
tavern since our departure from Falmouth; and the butter of Belgrade
(perfectly fresh, though not of a proper consistency) was a delicacy
to which we had long been unaccustomed. The best London porter, and
nearly every species of wine, except port, were also to be procured in
any quantity. To this eulogy cannot be added the material
recommendation of cheapness."]

[Footnote 4: Robert Adair. (See page 260 [Letter 134], [Foot]note 1.)]

[Footnote 5: Stratford Canning, afterwards Lord Stratford de Redcliffe.]

[Footnote 6: Captain Bathurst, and the officers of the 'Salsette',
anxious to see the arsenal and the Turkish fleet, paid a visit with
Byron to Ali, the Capudan-Pasha, or Lord High Admiral.

"He was," writes Hobhouse ('Travels in Albania, etc.', vol. ii. p.
279), "in his kiosk of audience at Divan-Hane, a splendid chamber,
surrounded by his attendants, and, contrary to custom, received us
sitting. He is reported to be a ferocious character, and certainly had
the appearance of being so."]

138.--To his Mother.

Constantinople, May 18, 1810.

Dear Madam,--I arrived here in an English frigate from Smyrna a few
days ago, without any events worth mentioning, except landing to view
the plains of Troy, and afterwards, when we were at anchor in the
Dardanelles, _swimming_ from Sestos to Abydos, in imitation of
Monsieur Leander, whose story you, no doubt, know too well for me to
add anything on the subject except that I crossed the Hellespont
without so good a motive for the undertaking. As I am just going to
visit the Captain-Pacha, you will excuse the brevity of my letter.
When Mr. Adair takes leave I am to see the Sultan and the mosques,
etc.

Believe me, yours ever,

BYRON.

139.--To his Mother.

Constantinople, May 24, 1810.

Dear Mother,--I wrote to you very shortly the other day on my arrival
here, and, as another opportunity avails, take up my pen again, that
the frequency of my letters may atone for their brevity. Pray did you
ever receive a picture of me in oil by _Sanders_ in _Vigo Lane_,
London? (a noted limner); if not, write for it immediately; it was
paid for, except the frame (if frame there be), before I left England.
I believe I mentioned to you in my last that my only notable exploit
lately has been swimming from Sestos to Abydos in humble imitation of
_Leander_, of amorous memory; though I had no _Hero_ to receive me on
the other shore of the Hellespont.

Of Constantinople you have of course read fifty descriptions by sundry
travellers, which are in general so correct that I have nothing to add
on the subject. When our ambassador takes his leave I shall accompany
him to see the Sultan, and afterwards probably return to Greece. I
have heard nothing of Mr. H----, but one remittance without any letter
from that legal gentleman. If you have occasion for any pecuniary
supply, pray use my funds as far as they _go_, without reserve; and
lest there should not be enough, in my next to Mr. H----I will direct
him to advance any sum you want, leaving at your discretion how much,
in the present state of my affairs, you may think proper to require.

I have already seen the most interesting part of Turkey in Europe and
Asia Minor, but shall not proceed further till I hear from England. In
the mean time I shall expect occasional supplies, according to
circumstances, and shall pass my summer amongst my friends the Greeks
of the Morea. You will direct to Malta, where my letters are
forwarded.

And believe me, with great sincerity, yours ever,

BYRON.

P.S.--Fletcher is well. Pray take care of my boy Robert and the old
man Murray. It is fortunate they returned; neither the youth of the
one nor the age of the other would have suited the changes of climate
and fatigue of travelling.

140.--To Henry Drury.

Constantinople, June 17, 1810.

Though I wrote to you so recently, I break in upon you again to
congratulate you on a child being born, [1] as a letter from Hodgson
apprizes me of that event, in which I rejoice.

I am just come from an expedition through the Bosphorus to the Black
Sea and the Cyanean Symplegades, up which last I scrambled with as
great risk as ever the Argonauts escaped in their hoy. You remember
the beginning of the nurse's dole in the 'Medea', of which I beg you
to take the following translation, done on the summit:--

"Oh how I wish that an embargo
Had kept in port the good ship Argo!
Who, still unlaunched from Grecian docks,
Had never passed the Azure rocks;
But now I fear her trip will be a
Damned business for my Miss Medea, etc., etc.," [2]

as it very nearly was to me;--for, had not this sublime passage been
in my head, I should never have dreamed of ascending the said rocks,
and bruising my carcass in honour of the ancients.

I have now sat on the Cyaneans, swam from Sestos to Abydos (as I
trumpeted in my last), and, after passing through the Morea again,
shall set sail for Santa Maura, and toss myself from the Leucadian
promontory;--surviving which operation, I shall probably join you in
England. Hobhouse, who will deliver this, is bound straight for these
parts; and, as he is bursting with his travels, I shall not anticipate
his narratives, but merely beg you not to believe one word he says,
but reserve your ear for me, if you have any desire to be acquainted
with the truth.

I am bound for Athens once more, and thence to the Morea; but my stay
depends so much on my caprice, that I can say nothing of its probable
duration. I have been out a year already, and may stay another; but I
am quicksilver, and say nothing positively. We are all very much
occupied doing nothing, at present. We have seen every thing but the
mosques, which we are to view with a firman on Tuesday next. But of
these and other sundries let H. relate, with this proviso, that
'I' am to be referred to for authenticity; and I beg leave to
contradict all those things whereon he lays particular stress. But, if
he soars at any time into wit, I give you leave to applaud, because
that is necessarily stolen from his fellow-pilgrim. Tell Davies [3]
that Hobhouse has made excellent use of his best jokes in many of his
Majesty's ships of war; but add, also, that I always took care to
restore them to the right owner; in consequence of which he (Davies)
is no less famous by water than by land, and reigns unrivalled in the
cabin as in the "Cocoa Tree." [4]

And Hodgson has been publishing more poesy--I wish he would send me
his 'Sir Edgar', [5] and Bland's 'Anthology', to Malta,
where they will be forwarded. In my last, which I hope you received, I
gave an outline of the ground we have covered. If you have not been
overtaken by this despatch, Hobhouse's tongue is at your service.
Remember me to Dwyer, who owes me eleven guineas. Tell him to put them
in my banker's hands at Gibraltar or Constantinople. I believe he paid
them once, but that goes for nothing, as it was an annuity.

I wish you would write. I have heard from Hodgson frequently. Malta is
my post-office. I mean to be with you by next Montem. You remember the
last,--I hope for such another; but after having swam across the
"broad Hellespont," I disdain Datchett. [6] Good afternoon!

I am yours, very sincerely,

BYRON.

[Footnote 1: Henry Drury, afterwards Archdeacon of Wilts.]

[Footnote 2: Euripides, 'Medea', lines 1-7--

[Greek (transliterated)]:

Eith _ophel Argous mae diaptasthai skaphos
Kolch_on es aian kuaneas Symplaegadas,
maed en napaisi Paeliou pedein pote
tmaetheisa peukae, maed eretm_osai cheras
andr_on ariste_on, oi to pagchryson deros
Pelia metaelthon ou gar an despoin emae
Maedeia pyrgous gaes epleus I_olkias k.t.l.]]

[Footnote 3: For Scrope Berdmore Davies, see page 165 [Letter 86],
[Foot]note 2.]

[Footnote 4: "The Cocoa Tree," now 64, St. James's Street, formerly in
Pall Mall, was, in the reign of Queen Anne, the Tory Chocolate House. It
became a club about 1745, and was then regarded as the headquarters of
the Jacobites. Probably for this reason Gibbon, whose father professed
Jacobite opinions, belonged to it on coming to live in London (see his
journal for November, 1762, and his letter to his stepmother, January
18, 1766: "The Cocoa Tree serves now and then to take off an idle
hour"). Byron was a member.]

[Footnote 5: Hodgson's 'Sir Edgar' was published in 1810.]

[Footnote 6: Alluding to his having swum across the Thames with Henry
Drury, after the Montem, to see how many times they could make the
passage backwards and forwards without touching land. In this trial
Byron was the conqueror.]

141.--To his Mother.

Constantinople, June 28, 1810.

My dear Mother,--I regret to perceive by your last letter that several
of mine have not arrived, particularly a very long one written in
November last from Albania, where I was on a visit to the Pacha of
that province. Fletcher has also written to his spouse perpetually.

Mr. Hobhouse, who will forward or deliver this, and is on his return
to England, can inform you of our different movements, but I am very
uncertain as to my own return. He will probably be down in Notts, some
time or other; but Fletcher, whom I send back as an incumbrance
(English servants are sad travellers), will supply his place in the
interim, and describe our travels, which have been tolerably
extensive.

I have written twice briefly from this capital, from Smyrna, from
Athens and other parts of Greece; from Albania, the Pacha of which
province desired his respects to my mother, and said he was sure I was
a man of high birth because I had small ears, curling hair, and white
hands!!! He was very kind to me, begged me to consider him as a
father, and gave me a guard of forty soldiers through the forests of
Acarnania. But of this and other circumstances I have written to you
at large, and yet hope you will receive my letters.

I remember Mahmout Pacha, the grandson of Ali Pacha, at Yanina, (a
little fellow of ten years of age, with large black eyes, which our
ladies would purchase at any price, and those regular features which
distinguish the Turks,) asked me how I came to travel so young,
without anybody to take care of me. This question was put by the
little man with all the gravity of threescore. I cannot now write
copiously; I have only time to tell you that I have passed many a
fatiguing, but never a tedious moment; and all that I am afraid of is
that I shall contract a gypsy like wandering disposition, which will
make home tiresome to me: this, I am told, is very common with men in
the habit of peregrination, and, indeed, I feel it so. On the 3rd of
May I swam from _Sestos_ to _Abydos_. You know the story of Leander,
but I had no _Hero_ to receive me at landing.

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