The gloomy tenants, Newstead! of thy cells, Vassals, within thy hospitable pale, Loudly carousing, bless their lord's return; Culture again adorns the gladdening vale, And matrons, once lamenting, cease to mourn. A thousand songs on tuneful echo float, Unwonted foliage mantles o'er the trees; And hark! the horns proclaim a mellow note, The hunters' cry hangs lengthening on the breeze. Beneath their coursers' hoofs the valleys shake: Ah happy days! too happy to endure ! Such simple sports our plain forefathers knew: No splendid vices glitter'd to allure; Their joys were many, as their cares were few. From these descending, sons to sires succeed; Time steals along, and Death uprears his dart; Another chief impels the foaming steed, Another crowd pursue the panting hart. Newstead! what saddening change of scene is thine! Now holds thy mouldering turrets in his sway, Deserted now, he scans thy gray worn towers; [During the lifetime of the fifth Lord Byron, there was found in this lake-where it is supposed to have been thrown for concealment by the monks a large brass eagle, in the body of which, on its being sent to be cleaned, was discovered a secret aperture, concealing within it a number of ancient documents connected with the rights and privileges of the foundation. At the sale of the old Lord's effects, in 1776, this eagle was purchased by a watchmaker of Nottingham; and it now forms, through the liberality of Sir Richard Kaye, an appropriate ornament of the fine old church of Southwell.} 2 ["Come what may," wrote Lord Byron to his mother, in March, 1809, "Newstead and I stand or fall together. I have now lived on the spot; I have fixed my heart upon it; and no pressure, present or future, shall induce me to barter the last vestige of our inheritance. I have that pride within me which will enable me to support difficulties. I can endure privations; but could I obtain, in exchange for Newstead Abbey, the first fortune in the country, I would reject the proposition. Set your mind at ease on that score; I feel like a man of honour, and I will not sell Newstead."] 3 ["We cannot," says the Critical Review for September, 1807, but hail, with something of prophetic rapture, the hope conveyed in the closing stanza — Haply thy sun, emerging, yet may shine,'" &c.] 4 [The reader who turns from this Elegy to the stanzas descriptive of Newstead Abbey and the surrounding scenery, in the thirteenth canto of Don Juan, cannot fail to remark how frequently the leading thoughts in the two pieces are the same; or to be delighted and instructed, in comparing the juvenile sketch with the bold touches and mellow colouring of the master's picture.] [These verses were composed while Lord Byron was suffering under severe illness and depression of spirits. * I Yet are his tears no emblem of regret : Cherish'd affection only bids them flow. Pride, hope, and love forbid him to forget, But warm his bosom with impassion'd glow. Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes Or gewgaw grottoes of the vainly great; Yet lingers 'mid thy damp and mossy tombs, Nor breathes a murmur 'gainst the will of fate. ? Haply thy sun, emerging, yet may shine, Thee to irradiate with meridian ray; 3 Hours splendid as the past may still be thine, And bless thy future as thy former day. + CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS. WHEN slow Disease, with all her host of pains, was laid," he says, " on my back, when that schoolboy thing was written, or rather, dictated-expecting to rise no more, my physician having taken his sixteenth fee." In the private volume the poem opened with the following lines: "Hence! thou unvarying song of varied loves, Thus, while the future dark and cheerless gleams, Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought, To dazzle, though they please, my aching sight. 1 1 [The next fifty-six lines, to "Here first remember'd be the joyous band," were added in the first edition of Hours of Idleness.] Had . [Dr. Butler, then head-master of Harrow school. Lord Byron published another edition of these poems, it appears, from a loose sheet in his hand-writing, to have been his intention, instead of the passage beginning" Or, if my muse a pedant's portrait drew," to insert "If once my muse a harsher portrait drew, 3 [When Dr. Drury retired, in 1805, three candidates presented themselves for the vacant chair, Messrs. Drury, Evans, and Butler." On the first movement to which this contest gave rise in the school, young Wildman," says Moore, "was at the head of the party for Mark Drury, while Byron held himself aloof from any. Anxious, however, to have him as an ally, one of the Drury faction said to Wildman - Byron, I know, will not join, because he does not choose to act second to any one; but, by giving up the leadership to him, you may at once secure him."" This Wildman accordingly did, and Byron took the command.] [Instead of this couplet, the private volume has the following four lines: When now the boy is ripen'd into man, A patron's praise can well reward the lie: Away with themes like this! not mine the task But when that foe, from feeling or from shame, Here first remember'd be the joyous band, To IDA now, alas ! for ever lost. --- With him, for years, we search'd the classic page, And fear'd the master, though we loved the sage: "Careless to soothe the pedant's furious frown, Adding new terror to his sneering face."ace, Dr. Drury. This most able and excellent man retired from his situation in March, 1805, after having resided thirtyfive years at Harrow; the last twenty as head-master; an office he held with equal honour to himself and advantage to the very extensive school over which he presided. Panegyric would here be superfluous: it would be useless to enumerate qualifications which were never doubted. A considerable contest took place between three rival candidates for his vacant chair: of this I can only say, Si mea cum vestris valuissent vota, Pelasgi! Non foret ambiguus tanti certaminis hæres. [Such was Byron's parting eulogy on Dr. Drury. It may be interesting to see by the side of it the Doctor's own account of his pupil, when first committed to his care:-"I took," says the Doctor, "my young disciple into my study, and endeavoured to bring him forward by inquiries as to his former amusements, employments, and associates, but with little or no effect; and I soon found that a wild mountain colt had been submitted to my management. But there was mind in his eye. His manner and temper soon convinced me, that he might be led by a silken string to a point, rather than by a cable ; - and on that principle I acted. "] Retired at last, his small yet peaceful seat, No more his mention shall my verse degrade, — To him my tribute is already paid. And here my name, and many an early friend's, High, through those elms, with hoary branches They pass the dreary winter's eve away crown'd, Fair IDA's bower adorns the landscape round; "And thus our former rulers stemm'd the tide, Dear honest race! though now we meet no more, Some rough and thoughtless stranger placed in view, Through splendid circles, fashion's gaudy world, [fought, With forlic quaint their antic jests expose, Here mingling view the names of sire and son— [To this passage, had Lord Byron published another edition of Hours of Idleness, it was his intention to give the following turn: "Another fills his magisterial chair; Reluctant Ida owns a stranger's care; Oh! may like honours crown his future name: 2 [During a rebellion at Harrow, the poet prevented the school-room from being burnt down, by pointing out to the boys the names of their fathers and grandfathers on the walls.] 3 [Lord Byron elsewhere thus describes his usual course of life while at Harrow" always cricketing, rebelling, rowing, and in all manner of mischiefs." One day, in a fit of defiance, he tore down all the gratings from the window of the hall; and when called upon by Dr. Butler to say why he had committed this violence, answered, with stern coolness, "because they darkened the room."] 4[This description of what the young poet felt in 1806, on encountering in the world any of his former schoolfellows, Where folly's glaring standard waves unfurl'd, Yet, why should I alone with such delight, falls far short of the page in which he records an accidental meeting with Lord Clare, on the road between Imola and Bologna in 1821. "This meeting," he says, "annihilated for a moment all the years between the present time and the days of Harrow. It was a new and inexplicable feeling, lke rising from the grave, to me. Clare too was much agitated — more in appearance than was myself; for I could feel his heart beat to his fingers' ends, unless, indeed, it was the pulse of my own which made me think so. We were but five mutes together, and on the public road; but I hardly recollect an hour of my existence which could be weighed against them.” -We may also quote the following interesting sentences of Madame Guiccioli : —“ In 1822 (says she), a few days bef re leaving Pisa, we were one evening seated in the garden of the Palazzo Lanfranchi. At this moment a servait announced Mr. Hobhouse. The slight shade of melancholy diffused over Lord Byron's face gave instant place to the liveliest joy, but it was so great, that it almost deprived him of strength fearful paleness came over his cheeks, and his eyes were £llal with tears as he embraced his friend: his emotion was so great that he was forced to sit down."] A Н Ah! sure some stronger impulse vibrates here, Alonzo!2 best and dearest of my friends, Thy name ennobles him who thus commends: From this fond tribute thou canst gain no praise; The praise is his who now that tribute pays. Oh! in the promise of thy early youth, If hope anticipate the words of truth, Some loftier bard shall sing thy glorious name, To build his own upon thy deathless fame. [It has been reserved for our own time to produce one distinguished example of the Muse having descended upon a bard of a wounded spirit, and lent her lyre to tell, and we trust to soothe, afflictions of no ordinary description; afflictions originating probably in that singular combination of feeling, which has been called the poetical temperament, and which has so often saddened the days of those on whom it has been conferred. If ever a man could lay claim to that character in all its strength and all its weakness, with its unbounded range of enjoyment, and its exquisite sensibility of pleasure and of pain, it must certainly be granted to Lord Byron. His own tale is partly told in two lines of Lara: "Left by his sire, too young such loss to know, Lord of himself- that heritage of woe!' SIR WALTER SCOTT.] [The Hon. John Wingfield, of the Coldstream Guards, brother to Richard, fourth Viscount Powerscourt. He died of a fever, in his twentieth year, at Coimbra, May 14th, 1811. "Of all human beings," says Lord Byron," I was. perhaps, at one time, the most attached to poor Wingfield. I had known him the better half of his life, and the happiest part of mine." On hearing of the death of his beloved schoolfellow, he added the following stanzas to the first canto of Childe Harold: "And thou, my friend!- since unavailing woe Bursts from my heart, and mingles with the strainHad the sword laid thee with the mighty low, Pride might forbid ev'n Friendship to complain : But thus unlaurel'd to descend in vain, By all forgotten, save the lonely breast, And mix unbleeding with the boasted slain, While Glory crowns so many a meaner crest! What hadst thou done to sink so peacefully to rest? "Oh, known the earliest, and esteem'd the most, Dear to a heart where nought was left so dear! Though to my hopeless days for ever lost, In dreams deny me not to see thee here!" &c.] Friend of my heart, and foremost of the list 4 Nor yet are you forgot, my jocund boy! DAVUS, the harbinger of childish joy; For ever foremost in the ranks of fun, The laughing herald of the harmless pun; Yet with a breast of such materials made. Anxious to please, of pleasing half afraid; Candid and liberal, with a heart of steel In danger's path, though not untaught to feel. Still I remember, in the factious strife, The rustic's musket aim'd against my life: High poised in air the massy weapon hung, A cry of horror burst from every tongue; Whilst I, in combat with another foe, Fought on, unconscious of th' impending blow; Your arm, brave boy, arrested his careerForward you sprung, insensible to fear; Disarm'd and baffled by your conquering hand, The grovelling savage roll'd upon the sand: An act like this, can simple thanks repay ? 5 Or all the labours of a grateful lay? Oh no! whene'er my breast forgets the deed, That instant, DAVUS, it deserves to bleed. LYCUS 16 on me thy claims are justly great: Thy milder virtues could my muse relate, 3 [The Rev. John Cecil Tattersall, B.A., of Christ Church, Oxford; who died Dec. 8. 1812, at Hall's Place, Kent, aged twenty-four. "His mind," says a writer in the Gent. Mag., "was comprehensive and perspicuous; his affections warm and sincere. Through extreme aversion to hypocrisy, he was so far from assuming the false appearances of virtue, that much of his real excellence was unseen, whilst he was eager to acknowledge every fault into which he was led. He was an ardent friend, a stranger to feelings of enmity; he lived in good faith towards men, and died with hope in God."] 4 [The "factious strife" here recorded, was accidentally brought on by the breaking up of school, and the dismissal of some volunteers from drill, both happening at the same hour. On this occasion, it appears, the butt-end of a musket was aimed at Byron's head, and would have felled him to the ground, but for the interposition of Tattersall.] 5 [In the private volume: "Thus did you save that life I scarcely prize- [John Fitzgibbon, second Earl of Clare, born June 2. 1792. His father, whom he succeeded Jan. 28. 1802, was for nearly twelve years Lord Chancellor of Ireland. See antè, p. 406. note. His Lordship is now (1832) Governor of Bombay. "I never," says Lord Byron, in 1821,"hear the word Clare,' without a beating of the heart even now; and I write it with feelings of 1803-4-5, ad infinitum." Of the tenaciousness with which he clung to all the kindly impressions of his youth, there can be no stronger proof than the interesting fact, that after his death almost all the notes and letters which his principal school favourites had ever addressed to him were found preserved carefully among his papers. The following is the indorsement upon one of them: This and another letter were written at Harrow, by my then and, I hope, ever beloved friend, Lord Clare, when we were both school-boys; and sent to my study in consequence of some childish misunderstanding, the only one which To thee alone, unrivall'd, would belong Shall fair EURYALUS2 pass by unsung? From ancient lineage, not unworthy sprung: What though one sad dissension bade us part, That name is yet embalm'd within my heart; Yet at the mention does that heart rebound, And palpitate, responsive to the sound. Envy dissolved our ties, and not our will: We once were friends,-I'll think we are so still. 3 A form unmatch'd in nature's partial mould, A heart untainted, we in thee behold: Yet not the senate's thunder thou shalt wield, Nor seek for glory in the tented field; To minds of ruder texture these be givenThy soul shall nearer soar its native heaven. Haply, in polish'd courts might be thy seat, But that thy tongue could never forge deceit : The courtier's supple bow and sneering smile, The flow of compliment, the slippery wile, Would make that breast with indignation burn, And all the glittering snares to tempt thee spurn. Domestic happiness will stamp thy fate; Sacred to love, unclouded e'er by hate; "For ever to possess a friend in thee, Was bliss unhoped, though not unsought by me. Oft hast thou sworn, in friendship's soothing tone, 2 [George-John, fifth Earl Delawarr, born Oct. 26. 1791; succeeded his father, John-Richard, July 28. 1795. This ancient family have been barons by the male line from 1342; their ancestor, Sir Thomas West, having been summoned to parliament as Lord West, the 16th Edw. II. We find the following notices in some hitherto unpublished letters of Lord Byron:-" Harrow, Oct. 25. 1804.-I am happy enough and comfortable here. My friends are not numerous, but select. Among the principal I rank Lord Delawarr, who is very amiable, and my particular friend." "Nov. 2. 1804.Lord Delawarr is considerably younger than me, but the most good-tempered, amiable, clever fellow in the universe. To all which he adds the quality (a good one in the eyes of women) of being remarkably handsome. Delawarr and myself are, in a manner, connected; for one of my forefathers, in Charles the First's time, married into their family."] [It is impossible to peruse the following extract of a letter addressed to Lord Clare, in February, 1807, without acknowledging the noble candour and conscientiousness of the writer. You will be astonished to hear I have lately written to Delawarr, for the purpose of explaining (as far as possible, The world admire thee, and thy friends adore ;Ambition's slave alone would toil for more. Now last, but nearest, of the social band, See honest, open, generous CLEON+ stand; With scarce one speck to cloud the pleasing scene, No vice degrades that purest soul serene. On the same day our studious race begun, On the same day our studious race was run; Thus side by side we pass'd our first career, Thus side by side we strove for many a year; At last concluded our scholastic life, We neither conquer'd in the classic strife: Oh! friends regretted, scenes for ever dear, The praise is due, who made that fame my own. 9 without involving some old friends of mine in the business.) the cause of my behaviour to him during my last residenI at Harrow, which you will recollect was rather en caraher. A Since that period I have discovered he was treated with injustice, both by those who misrepresented his conduct, and by me in consequence of their suggestions. I have, therefore, made all the reparation in my power, by apologising for my mistake, though with very faint hopes of success. However, I have eased my own conscience by the atonemest, which is humiliating enough to one of my disposition; yet I could not have slept satisfied with the reflection of having. even unintentionally, injured any individual. I have done all that could be done to repair the injury."] 4 [Edward Noel Long, Esq.-to whom a subsequent poem is addressed. See p. 414.] 5 This alludes to the public speeches delivered at the school where the author was educated. 6 [Thus in the private volume "Yet in the retrospection finds relief, 7 ["I remember that my first declamation astonished Dr. Drury into some unwonted (for he was economical of such) and sudden compliments, before the declaimers at our first rehearsal."- Byron Diary.] 9 ["I certainly was much pleased with Lord Byron's ttitude, gesture, and delivery, as well as with his composition. All who spoke on that day adhered, as usual, to the letter of their composition, as in the earlier part of his delivery dif Lord Byron. But, to my surprise, he suddenly diverged from the written composition, with a boldness and rap skity sufficient to alarm me, lest he should fail in memory as to the conclusion. There was no failure;- he came round to the close of his composition without discovering any imped ment and irregularity on the whole. I questioned him, why he had altered his declamation? He declared he had made no alteration, and did not know, in speaking, that he had de viated from it one letter. I believed him, and from a knowledge of his temperament am convinced, that, fully impressed with the sense and substance of the subject, he was hurried on to expressions and colourings more striking than what his pen had expressed."— DR. DRURY.] 9 [In the private volume the poem concludes thus: 1 |