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There is, moreover, in the drama, the same distaste of the world which Byron himself expressed when cogitating on the desolation of his hearth, and the same contempt of the insufficiency of his genius and renown to mitigate contrition all in strange harmony with the same magnificent objects of sight. Is not the opening soliloquy of Manfred the very echo of the reflections on the Rhine?
Leigh Hunt wrote to Mary Shelley, begging her to help her husband and family to come to Italy he was ill and depressed, and surrounded by all his children sick and suffering. While Shelley was at Ravenna he brought up this subject with Byron, who proposed that he, Shelley, and Leigh Hunt should start a periodical for their joint works, and share the profits.
"Oh, on a shelf in the corner of the hall, between the Bible and a Life of Byron." I got up and walked back to the hall. I looked round. Euphrosyne was not there. I inspected the hall door; it was still locked on the inside. I mounted the stairs, and called at the door of her room; when no answer came I pushed it open and took the liberty of glancing round; she was not there.
At a distance, on the border of the lawn, stood another memento of Lord Byron; an oak planted by him in his boyhood, on his first visit to the Abbey. With a superstitious feeling inherent in him, he linked his own destiny with that of the tree. "As it fares," said he, "so will fare my fortunes." Several years elapsed, many of them passed in idleness and dissipation.
Edward's staff, borne by the Duke of Roxburgh, the golden spurs borne by Lord Byron, the sceptre with the cross borne by the Duke of Cleveland, the third sword borne by the Marquis of Westminster, Curtana borne by the Duke of Devonshire, the second sword borne by the Duke of Sutherland, each nobleman's coronet carried by a page, Black Rod and Deputy-Garter walking before Lord Willoughby d'Eresby, Lord Great Chamberlain of England, with page and coronet.
Men forgive Burns his amours and his revellings with greater ease than they will forgive Bolingbroke and Byron for the same offences. Our Earl was fond of the society of literary men; he himself was well, perhaps even deeply, read.
Wha calls this mingling o' skim milk an' treacle the wine o' the soul a poet ought to pour? 'Scott and Byron! cried Paul, amazed out of all reverence. 'Why, there's more poetry in Tennyson's little finger than in both their bodies. 'Hoots, man! hauld your silly tongue, cried his father. 'Have you read "In Memoriam"? cried Paul. 'No, returned Armstrong curtly, 'I have not.
By the death of William, the fifth lord, he succeeded to the estates and titles in the year 1798; and in the autumn of that year, Mrs Byron, with her son and a faithful servant of the name of Mary Gray, left Aberdeen for Newstead.
I was most agreeably disappointed in this respect. I found Lord Byron in the highest degree courteous, and even kind. We met for an hour or two almost daily in Mr. Murray's drawing-room, and found a great deal to say to each other.
The most powerful of them, Kruitzner, fell into the hands of Byron in his boyhood, and made so profound an impression upon him that, in 1821, he dramatised it under the title of Werner, or the Inheritance. The authoress also adapted it for the stage as The Three Strangers. The tales are in general remarkable for the ingenuity of their plots.
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