[TO SIR RALPH NOEL] February 2d, 1816

Sir--I have received your letter.--To the vague & general charge contained in it I must naturally be at a loss how to answer--I shall therefore confine myself to the tangible fact which you are pleased to alledge as one of the motives for your present proposition.--Lady Byron received no "dismissal" from my house in the sense you have attached to the word--she left London by medical advice--she parted from me in apparent -- and on my part -- real harmony -- though at that particular time rather against my inclination for I begged her to remain with the intention of myself accompanying her when some business necessary to be arranged permitted my departure. ----It is true -- that previous to this period --I had suggested to her the expediency of a temporary residence with her parents: -- my reason for this was very simple & shortly stated -- viz -- the embarrassment of my circumstances & my inability to maintain our present establishment. -- The truth of what is thus stated may be easily ascertained by reference to Lady B[yron] -- who is Truth itself -- if she denies it -- I abide by that denial.---- My intention of going abroad originated in the same painful motive --& was postponed from a regard to her supposed feelings on that subject. ---- During the last year I have had to contend with distress without --& disease within: -- upon the former I have little to say except that I have endeavoured to remove it by every sacrifice in my power --& the latter I should not mention if I had not recent & professional authority for saying -- that the disorder which I have to combat -- without much impairing my apparent health -- is such as to induce a morbid irritability of temper -- which -- without recurring to external causes -- may have rendered me little less disagreeable to others than I am to myself.---- I am however ignorant of any particular ill treatment which your daughter has encountered: -- she may have seen me gloomy--& at times violent -- but she knows the causes too well to attribute such inequalities of disposition to herself -- or even to me -- if all things be fairly considered.---- And now Sir -- not for your satisfaction -- for I owe you none but for my own--& in justice to Lady Byron -- it is my duty to say that there is no part of her conduct -- character -- temper -- talents -- or disposition -- which could in my opinion have been changed for the better -- neither in word nor deed -- nor (as far as thought can be dived into) thought -- can I bring to recollection a fault on her part--& hardly even a failing -- She has ever appeared to me as one of the most amiable of beings--& nearer to perfection than I had conceived could belong to Humanity in it's present existence.---- Having said thus much -- though more in words -- less in substance -- than I wished to express---- I must come to the point -- on which subject I must for a few days decline giving a decisive answer.-- I will not however detain you longer than I can help -- and as it is of some importance to your family as well as mine -- and a step which cannot be recalled when taken -- you will not attribute my pause to any wish to inflict pain or vexation on you & yours:-- although there are parts of your letter -- which -- I must be permitted to say -- arrogate a right which you do not now possess ---- for the present at least -- your daughter is my wife:-- she is the mother of my child--& until I have her express sanction of your proceedings -- I shall take leave to doubt the propriety of your interference.--This will be soon ascertained--& when it is -- I will submit to you my determination -- which will depend very materially on hers.---- I have the honour to be

yr. most obedt. & very humble Sert.
BYRON

 -----------Lady Byron----------

[TO LADY BYRON] February 3d, 1816

I have received a letter from your father proposing a separation between us--to which I cannot give an answer without being more acquainted with your own thoughts & wishes--& from yourself:--to vague & general charges & exaggerated statements from others I can give no reply:----it is to you that I look--& with you--that I can communicate on this subject,----when I permit the interference of relatives--it will be as a courtesy to them--& not the admission of a right.----I feel naturally at a loss how to address you--ignorant as I am--how far the letter I have received--has received your sanction--& in the circumstances into which this precipitation has forced me whatever I might say would be liable to misconstruction--I am really ignorant to what part of Sir Ralph's letter alludes--will you explain?

----To conclude--I shall eventually abide by your decision--but I request you most earnestly to weigh well the probable consequences--& to pause before you pronounce.----Whatever may occur--it is but justice to you to say--that you are exempt from all fault whatever--& that neither now nor at any time have I the slightest imputation of any description to charge upon you.----I cannot sign myself other than

yours ever most affectionately
BN

[TO LADY BYRON] February 5th, 1816

Dearest Bell--No answer from you yet--perhaps it is as well--but do recollect--that all is at stake--the present--the future--& even the colouring of the past:--The whole of my errors--or what harsher name you choose to give them--you know--but I loved you--& will not part from you without your own most express & expressed refusal to return to or receive me.----Only say the word--that you are still mine in your heart--and "Kate!--I will buckler thee against a million"--

ever yours dearest most
B

[On cover in Byron's hand] Mrs. Fletcher is requested to deliver the enclosed with her own hands to Lady Byron.

[TO LADY BYRON] February 8th, 1816

All I can say seems useless--and all I could say--might be no less unavailing--yet I still cling to the wreck of my hopes--before they sink forever.----Were you then never happy with me?--did you never at any time or times express yourself so?--have no marks of affection--of the warmest & most reciprocal attachment passed between us?--or did in fact hardly a day go down without some such on one side and generally on both?--do not mistake me--[two lines crossed out] I have not denied my state of mind--but you know it's causes--& were those deviations from calmness never followed by acknowledgement & repentance?--was not the last which occurred more particularly so?--& had I not--had we not--the days before & on the day when we parted reason to believe that we loved each other--that we were to meet again--were not your letters kind.?--had I not acknowledged to you all my faults & follies--& assured you that some had not--& would not be repeated?--I do not require these questions to be answered to me--but to your own heart.----The day before I received your father's letter--I had fixed a day for rejoining you--if I did not write lately--Augusta did--and as you had been my proxy in correspondence with her--so did I imagine--she might be the same for me to you.--Upon your letter to me--this day--I surely may remark--that it's expressions imply a treatment which I am incapable of inflicting--& you of imputing to me--if aware of their latitude--& the extent of the inferences to be drawn from them.--This is not just----but I have no reproaches--nor the wish to find cause for them.----Will you see me?--when & where you please--in whose presence you please:--the interview shall pledge you to nothing--& I will say & do nothing to agitate either--it is torture to correspond thus--& there are things to be settled & said which cannot be written.----You say "it is my disposition to deem what I have worthless"--did I deem you so--did I ever so express myself to you--or of you--to others?----You are much changed within these twenty days or you would never have thus poisoned your own better feelings--and trampled upon mine.---

ever yrs. most truly & affectionately
B

[TO JOHN CAM HOBHOUSE] Bruxelles--May 1st. 1816

My dear H[obhous]e You will be surprized that we are not more "en avant" and so am I--but Mr. Baxter's wheels and springs have not done their duty--for which I beg that you will abuse him like a pickpocket (that is--He--the said Baxter being the pickpocket) and say that I expect a deduction--having been obliged to come out of the way to this place--which was not in my route--for repairs--which however I hope to have accomplished so as to put us in motion in a day or two.----We passed through Ghent--Antwerp--and Mechlin--& thence diverged here- having seen all the sights--pictures--docks--basins--& having climbed up steeples &c. & so forth----the first thing--after the flatness & fertility of the country which struck me was the beauty of the towns--Bruges first--where you may tell Douglas Kinnaird--on entering at Sunset--I overtook a crew of beggarly looking gentlemen not unlike Oxberry--headed by a Monarch with a Staff the very facsimile of King Clause in the said D[ouglas] K[innaird]'s revived drama.----We lost our way in the dark--or rather twilight--not far from Ghent--by the stupidity of the postilion (one only by the way to horses ) which produced an alarm of intended robbery among the uninitiated--whom I could not convince --that four or five well-armed people were not immediately to be plundered and anatomized by a single person fortified with a horsewhip to be sure but nevertheless a little encumbered with large jack boots--and a tight jacket that did not fit him--The way was found again without loss of life or limb:----I thought the learned Fletcher at least would have known better after our Turkish expeditions--and defiles--and banditti--& guards &c. &c. than to have been so valourously alert without at least a better pretext for his superfluous courage. I don't mean to say that they were frightened but they were vastly suspicious without any cause.--At Ghent we stared at pictures--& climbed up a steeple 450 steps in altitude from which I had a good view & notion of these "paese bassi."----Next day we broke down--by a damned wheel (on which Baxter should be broken) pertinaciously refusing it's stipulated rotation--this becalmed us at Lo Kristi--(2 leagues from Ghent)--& obliged us to return for repairs--At Lo Kristi I came to anchor in the house of a Flemish Blacksmith (who was ill of a fever for which Dr. Dori physicked him--I dare say he is dead by now) and saw somewhat of Lo Kristi--Low-country--low life--which regaled us much--besides it being a Sunday--all the world were in their way to Mass--& I had the pleasure of seeing a number of very ordinary women in extraordinary garments:--we found the "Contadini" however very goodnatured & obliging though not at all useful.----At Antwerp we pictured--churched--and steepled again--but the principal Street and bason pleased me most--poor dear Bonaparte!!!--and the foundries &c.--as for Rubens--I was glad to see his tomb on account of that ridiculous description (in Smollet's P[eregrine] Pickle) of Pallet's absurdity at his monument--but as for his works--and his superb "tableaux"--he seems to me (who by the way know nothing of the matter) the most glaring--flaring--staring--harlotry imposter that ever passed a trick upon the senses of mankind--it is not nature--it is not art--with the exception of some linen (which hangs over the cross in one of his pictures) which to do it justice looked like a very handsome table cloth--I never saw such an assemblage of florid night-mares as his canvas contains--his portraits seem clothed in pulpit cushions.-- On the way to Mechlin--a wheel--& a spring too gave way--that is--the one went--& the other would not go--so we came off here to get into dock--I hope we shall sail shortly.--On to Geneva.--Will you have the goodness--to get at my account at Hoares--(my bankers) I believe there must be a balance in my favour--as I did not draw a great deal previously to going:--whatever there may be over the two thousand five hundred--they can send by you to me in a further credit when you come out:--I wish you to enquire (for fear any tricks might be played with my drafts) my bankers books left with you--will show you exactly what I have drawn--and you can let them have the book to make out the remainder of the account. All I have to urge to Hanson--or to our friend Douglas K[innaird]--is to sell if possible. ----All kind things to Scrope--and the rest--

ever yrs. most truly & obligedly
B

P.S.--If you hear of my child--let me know any good of her health --& well doing.--Will you bring out [Pausanias's Description of Greece] (Taylor's ditto) when you come--I shall bring to for you at Geneva--don't forget to urge Scrope into our crew--we will buy females and found a colony--provided Scrope does not find those ossified barriers to "the forefended place"--which cost him such a siege at Brighthelmstone--write at your leisure--or "ipse veni".----

[TO AUGUSTA LEIGH] [Diodati--Geneva Sept. 8th, 1816]

My dearest Augusta--By two opportunities of private conveyance--I have sent answers to your letter delivered by Mr. H[obhouse].----S[crope] is on his return to England--& may probably arrive before this.--He is charged with a few packets of seals--necklaces--balls &c.--& I know not what--formed of Chrystals--Agates--and other stones--all of & from Mont Blanc bought & brought by me on & from the spot--expressly for you to divide among yourself and the children--including also your niece Ada, for whom I selected a ball (of Granite--a soft substance by the way--but the only one there) wherewithall to roll & play--when she is old enough--and mischievous enough--and moreover a Chrystal necklace--and anything else you may like to add for her--the Love!----The rest are for you--& the Nursery--but particularly Georgiana--who has sent me a very nice letter.--I hope Scrope will carry them all safely--as he promised----There are seals & all kinds of fooleries--pray--like them--for they come from a very curious place (nothing like it hardly in all I ever saw)--to say nothing of the giver.---- And so -- Lady B[yron] has been "kind to you" you tell me "very kind" -- umph -- it is as well she should be kind to some of us -- and I am glad she has the heart & the discernment to be still your friend -- you was ever so to her. --I heard the other day -- that she was very unwell -- I was shocked enough -- and sorry enough -- God knows -- but never mind;-- H[obhouse] tells me however that she is not ill -- that she had been indisposed -- but is better & well to do.-- this is a relief. ----As for me I am in good health--& fair -- though very unequal -- spirits -- but for all that -- she -- or rather -- the Separation -- has broken my heart -- I feel as if an Elephant had trodden on it -- I am convinced I shall never get over it -- but I try.---- I had enough before I ever knew her and more than enough--but time & agitation had done something for me; but this last wreck has affected me very differently,--if it were acutely--it would not signify--but it is not that,--I breathe lead.----While the storm lasted & you were all pressing & comforting me with condemnation in Piccadilly--it was bad enough--& violent enough--but it is worse now.--I have neither strength nor spirits--nor inclination to carry me through anything which will clear my brain or lighten my heart.--I mean to cross the Alps at the end of this month--and go--God knows where--by Dalmatia--up to the Arnauts again--if nothing better can be done;--I have still a world before me--this--or the next.----H[obhouse] has told me all the strange stories in circulation of me & mine;--not true,--I have been in some danger on the lake--(near Meillerie) but nothing to speak of; and as to all these "mistresses"--Lord help me--I have had but one.--Now--don't scold--but what could I do?--a foolish girl--in spite of all I could say or do--would come after me--or rather went before me--for I found her here--and I have had all the plague possible to persuade her to go back again--but at last she went.--Now--dearest--I do most truly tell thee--that I could not help this--that I did all I could to prevent it--& have at last put an end to it.--I am not in love--nor have any love left for any,--but I could not exactly play the Stoic with a woman--who had scrambled eight hundred miles to unphilosophize me--besides I had been regaled of late with so many "two courses and a desert" (Alas!) of aversion--that I was fain to take a little love (if pressed particularly) by way of novelty.----And now you know all that I know of that matter--& it is over. Pray--write I have heard nothing since your last--at least a month or five weeks ago.----I go out very little except into the air--and on journeys--and on the water--and to Coppet--where Me. de Stael has been particularly kind & friendly towards me--& (I hear) fought battles without number in my very indifferent cause.--It has (they say) made quite as much noise on this as the other side of "La Manche"--Heaven knows why--but I seem destined to set people by the ears.----Don't hate me--but believe me ever

yrs. most affectly.
B

ALPINE JOURNAL

[TO AUGUSTA LEIGH] Clarens, Septr. 18th, 1816

Yesterday September 17th. 1816--I set out (with H[obhouse]) on an excursion of some days to the Mountains.--I shall keep a short journal of each day's progress for my Sister Augusta-- 

Sept. 17th.

Rose at 5.--left Diodati about seven--in one of the country carriages--(a Charaban)--our servants on horseback--weather very fine--the Lake calm and clear--Mont Blanc--and the Aiguille of Argentiere both very distinct--the borders of the Lake beautiful--reached Lausanne before Sunset--stopped & slept at Ouchy.--H[obhouse] went to dine with a Mr. Okeden--I remained at our Caravansera (though invited to the house of H's friend--too lazy or tired--or something else to go) and wrote a letter to Augusta--Went to bed at nine--sheets damp--swore and stripped them off & flung them--Heaven knows where wrapt myself up in the blankets--and slept like a Child of a month's existence--till 5 o Clock of

Septr. 18th.

Called by Berger ( my Courier who acts as Valet for a day or two--the learned Fletcher being left in charge of Chattels at Diodati) got up--H[obhouse] walked on before a mile from Lausanne--the road overflowed by the lake--got on horseback & rode--till within a mile of Vevey--the Colt young but went very well--overtook H. & resumed the carriage which is an open one--stopped at Vevey two hours (the second time I have visited it) walked to the Church--view from the Churchvard superb--within it General Ludlow ( the Regicide's ) monument--black marble long inscription--Latin--but simple--particularly the latter part--in which his wife (Margaret de Thomas) records her long--her tried--and unshaken affection--he was an Exile two and thirty years--one of the King's (Charles's) Judges--a fine fellow.--I remember reading his memoirs in January 1815 (at Halnaby--) the first part of them very amusing--the latter less so,--I little thought at the time of their perusal by me of seeing his tomb--near him Broughton (who read King Charles's sentence to Charles Stuart)--is buried with a queer and rather canting--but still a Republican epitaph----Ludlow's house shown--it retains still his inscription "Omne Solum forte patria"--Walked down to the Lake side--servants--Carriage--saddle horses--all set off and left us plantes la by some mistake--and we walked on after them towards Clarens--H[obhouse] ran on before and overtook them at last--arrived the second time ( 1st time was by water) at Clarens beautiful Clarens!--went to Chillon through Scenery worthy of I know not whom--went over the Castle of Chillon again--on our return met an English party in a carriage--a lady in it fast asleep!--fast asleep in the most anti-narcotic spot in the world excellent--I remember at Chamouni--in the very eyes of Mont Blanc--hearing another woman--English also--exclaim to her party--"did you ever see any thing more rural"--as if it was Highgate or Hampstead--or Brompton--or Hayes.--"Rural" quotha!--Rocks--pines--torrent-- Glaciers--Clouds--and Summits of eternal snow far above them--and "Rural!" I did not know the thus exclaiming fair one--but she was a--very good kind of a woman.----After a slight & short dinner--we visited the Chateau de Clarens--an English woman has rented it recently--(it was not let when I saw it first) the roses are gone with their Summer--the family out--but the servants desired us to walk over the interior--saw on the table of the saloon--Blair's sermons--and somebody else's ( I forgot who's--) sermons--and a set of noisy children--saw all worth seeing and then descended to the "Bosquet de Julie" &c. &c.--our Guide full of Rousseau--whom he is eternally confounding with St. Preux--and mixing the man and the book--on the steps of a cottage in the village--I saw a young paysanne -- beautiful as Julie herself--went again as far as Chillon to revisit the little torrent from the hill behind it--Sunset--reflected in the lake--have to get up at 5 tomorrow to cross the mountains on horseback--carriage to be sent round--lodged at my old Cottage--hospitable & comfortable--tired with a longish ride--on the Colt--and the subsequent jolting of the Charaban--and my scramble in the hot sun--shall go to bed--thinking of you dearest Augusta.----Mem.--The Corporal who showed the wonders of Chillon was as drunk as Blucher--and ( to my mind ) as great a man.--He was deaf also--and thinking every one else so--roared out the legends of the Castle so fearfully that H[obhouse] got out of humour--however we saw all things from the Gallows to the Dungeon ( the Potence & the Cachets) and returned to Clarens with more freedom than belonged to the 15th. Century.---- At Clarens--the only book (except the Bible) a translation of "Cecilia" (Miss Burney's Cecilia) and the owner of the Cottage had also called her dog (a fat Pug ten years old--and hideous as Tip) after Cecilia's (or rather Delville's) dog--Fidde--

Septr. 19th.

Rose at 5--ordered the carriage round.--Crossed the mountains to Montbovon on horseback--and on Mules--and by dint of scrambling on foot also,--the whole route beautiful as a Dream and now to me almost as indistinct,--I am so tired--for though healthy I have not the strength I possessed but a few years ago.--At Mont Davant we breakfasted--afterwards on a steep ascent--dismounted--tumbled down & cut a finger open--the baggage also got loose and fell down a ravine, till stopped by a large tree--swore recovered baggage--horse tired & dropping--mounted Mule--at the approach of the summit of Dent Jamant--dismounted again with H. & all the party.--Arrived at a lake in the very nipple of the bosom of the Mountain.--left our quadrupeds with a Shepherd--& ascended further--came to some snow in patches--upon which my forehead's perspiration fell like rain making the same dints as in a sieve--the chill of the wind & the snow turned me giddy--but I scrambled on & upwards--H. went to the highest pinnacle--I did not--but paused within a few yards ( at an opening of the Cliff)--in coming down the Guide tumbled three times--I fell a laughing & tumbled too--the descent luckily soft though steep & slippery--H. also fell--but nobody hurt. The whole of the Mountain superb--the shepherd on a very steep & high cliff playing upon his pipe--very different from Arcadia--( where I saw the pastors with a long Musquet instead of a Crook--and pistols in their Girdles)--our Swiss Shepherd's pipe was sweet--& his time agreeable--saw a cow strayed--told that they often break their necks on & over the crags--descended to Montbovon--pretty scraggy village with a wild river--and a wooden bridge.--H. went to fish--caught one--our carriage not come--our horses--mules &c. knocked up--ourselves fatigued--(but so much the better--I shall sleep). The view from the highest point of today's journey comprized on one side the greatest part of Lake Leman--on the other--the valleys & mountains of the Canton Fribourg--and an immense plain with the Lakes of Neufchatel & Morat--and all which the borders of these and of the Lake of Geneva inherit--we had both sides of the Jura before us in one point of view, with Alps in plenty.--In passing a ravine--the Guide recommended strenuously a quickening of pace--as the stones fall with great rapidity & occasional damage--the advice is excellent--but like most good advice impracticable the road being so rough in this precise point--that neither mules nor mankind--nor horses--can make any violent progress.--Passed without any fractures or menace thereof.--The music of the Cows' bells (for their wealth like the Patriarchs is cattle ) in the pastures ( which reach to a height far above any mountains in Britain--) and the Shepherds' shouting to us from crag to crag & playing on their reeds where the steeps appeared almost inaccessible, with the surrounding scenery--realized all that I have ever heard or imagined of a pastoral existence--much more so than Greece or Asia Minor--for there we are a little too much of the sabre & musquet order--and if there is a Crook in one hand, you are sure to see a gun in the other--but this was pure and unmixed--solitary--savage and patriarchal--the effect I cannot describe--as we went they played the "Ranz des Vaches" and other airs by way of farewell.--I have lately repeopled my mind with Nature.

Septr. 20th.

Up at 6--off at 8--the whole of this days journey at an average of between from two thousand seven hundred to three thousand feet above the level of the Sea. This valley the longest--narrowest--& considered one of the finest of the Alps----little traversed by travellers--saw the Bridge of La Roche--the bed of the river very low & deep between immense rocks & rapid as anger--a man & mule said to have tumbled over without damage--(the mule was lucky at any rate--unless I knew the man I should be loth to pronounce him fortunate).--The people looked free & happy and rich (which last implies neither of the former) the cows superb--a Bull nearly leapt into the Charaban--"agreeable companion in a postchaise"--Goats & Sheep very thriving--a mountain with enormous Glaciers to the right--the Kletsgerberg--further on--the Hockthorn--nice names--so soft--Hockthorn I believe very lofty & craggy--patched with snow only--no Glaciers on it--but some good epaulettes of clouds.--Past the boundaries--out of Vaud--& into Bern Canton--French exchanged for a bad German--the district famous for Cheese--liberty--property--& no taxes.--H. went to fish--caught none--strolled to river--saw a boy [and] a kid--kid followed him like a dog--kid could not get over a fence & bleated piteously--tried myself to help kid--but nearly overset both self & kid into the river.--Arrived here about six in the evening--nine o clock--going to bed--H. in next room--knocked his head against the door--and exclaimed of course against doors--not tired today--but hope to sleep nevertheless --women gabbling below--read a French translation of Schiller--Good Night--Dearest Augusta.---- 

Septr. 21st.

Off early--the valley of Simmenthal as before--entrance to the plain of Thoun very narrow--high rocks--wooded to the top--river--new mountains--with fine Glaciers--Lake of Thoun--extensive plain with a girdle of Alps--walked down to the Chateau de Schadau--view along the lake--crossed the river in a boat rowed by women--women [rowed?] right for the first time in my recollection.--Thoun a pretty town--the whole day's journey Alpine & proud.--

 Septr. 22d.

Left Thoun in a boat which carried us the length of the lake in three hours--the lake small--but the banks fine--rocks down to the water's edge.--Landed at Neuhause--passed Interlachen--entered upon a range of scenes beyond all description--or previous conception.--Passed a rock--inscription--2 brothers--one murdered the other--just the place fit for it.--After a variety of windings came to an enormous rock--Girl with fruit--very pretty--blue eyes--good teeth--very fair--long but good features--reminded me of Fy. bought some of her pears--and patted her upon the cheek--the expression of her face very mild--but good--and not at all coquettish.

--Arrived at the foot of the Mountain ( the Yung-frau--i.e. the Maiden) Glaciers--torrents--one of these torrents nine hundred feet in height of visible descent--lodge at the Curate's--set out to see the Valley--heard an Avalanche fall -- like thunder -- saw Glacier -- enormous -- Storm came on -- thunder -- lightning -- hail -- all in perfection -- and beautiful -- I was on horseback--Guide wanted to carry my cane--I was going to give it him when I recollected that it was a Swordstick and I thought that the lightning might be attracted towards him--kept it myself--a good deal encumbered with it & my cloak--as it was too heavy for a whip--and the horse was stupid--& stood still every other peal. Got in--not very wet--the Cloak being staunch --H. wet through--H. took refuge in cottage--sent man--umbrella--& cloak (from the Curate's when I arrived--) after him.--Swiss Curate's house--very good indeed--much better than most English Vicarages--it is immediately opposite the torrent I spoke of--the torrent is in shape curving over the rock--like the tail of a white horse streaming in the wind--such as it might be conceived would be that of the "pale horse" on which Death is mounted in the Apocalypse.--It is neither mist nor water but a something between both--it's immense height (nine hundred feet) gives it a wave--a curve--a spreading here--a condensation there--wonderful--& indescribable.--I think upon the whole--that this day has been better than any of this present excursion.--

Septr. 23d.

Before ascending the mountain--went to the torrent (7 in the morning) again--the Sun upon it forming a rainbow of the lower part of all colours--but principally purple and gold--the bow moving as you move--I never saw anything like this--it is only in the Sunshine.----Ascended the Wengren [sic] Mountain.----at noon reached a valley near the summit--left the horses--took off my coat & went to the summit--7000 feet (English feet) above the level of the sea--and about 5000 above the valley we left in the morning--on one side our view comprized the Yung frau with all her glaciers--then the Dent d'Argent--shining like truth--then the little Giant (the Kleiner Eiger) & the great Giant (the Grosser Eiger) and last not least--the Wetterhorn.--The height of the Yung frau is 13000 feet above the sea--and 11000 above the valley--she is the highest of this range,--heard the Avalanches falling every five minutes nearly--as if God was pelting the Devil down from Heaven with snow balls--from where we stood on the Wengren [sic] Alp--we had all these in view on one side--on the other the clouds rose from the opposite valley curling up perpendicular precipices--like the foam of the Ocean of Hell during a Springtide--it was white & sulphery--and immeasurably deep in appearance--the side we ascended was (of course) not of so precipitous a nature--but on arriving at the summit we looked down the other side upon a boiling sea of cloud--dashing against the crags on which we stood (these crags on one side quite perpendicular);--staid a quarter of an hour--began to descend--quite clear from cloud on that side of the mountain--in passing the masses of snow--I made a snowball & pelted H. with it--got down to our horses again--eat something--remounted--heard the Avalanches still--came to a morass--H. dismounted--H. got well over--I tried to pass my horse over--the horse sunk up [to] the chin--& of course he & I were in the mud together--bemired all over--but not hurt--laughed & rode on.--Arrived at the Grindenwald--dined--mounted again & rode to the higher Glacier--twilight--but distinct--very fine Glacier--like a frozen hurricane--Starlight--beautiful--but a devil of a path--never mind--got safe in--a little lightning--but the whole of the day as fine in point of weather--as the day on which Paradise was made.--Passed whole woods of withered pines--all withered--trunks stripped & barkless--branches lifeless--done by a single winter--their appearance reminded me of me & my family.--

Septr. 24th.

Set out at seven--up at five--passed the black Glacier--the Mountain Wetterhorn on the right--crossed the Scheideck mountain--came to the Rose Glacier--said to be the largest & finest in Switzerland.--I think the Bossons Glacier at Chamouni--as fine--H. does not--came to the Reichenback waterfall--two hundred feet high--halted to rest the horses--arrived in the valley of Oberhasli--rain came on--drenched a little--only 4 hours rain however in 8 days--came to Lake of Brientz--then to town of Brientz--changed--H. hurt his head against door.--In the evening four Swiss Peasant Girls of Oberhasli came & sang the airs of their country--two of the voices beautiful--the tunes also--they sing too that Tyrolese air & song which you love--Augusta--because I love it--& I love because you love it--they are still singing--Dearest--you do not know how I should have liked this--were you with me--the airs are so wild & original & at the same time of great sweetness.----The singing is over--but below stairs I hear the notes of a Fiddle which bode no good to my nights rest.--The Lord help us!--I shall go down & see the dancing.--

Septr. 25th.

The whole town of Brientz were apparently gathered together in the rooms below--pretty music--& excellent Waltzing--none but peasants--the dancing much better than in England--the English can't Waltz--never could--nor ever will.--One man with his pipe in his mouth--but danced as well as the others--some other dances in pairs--and in fours--and very good.----I went to bed but the revelry continued below late & early.--Brientz but a village.----Rose early.--Embarked on the Lake of Brientz.--Rowed by women in a long boat--one very young & very pretty--seated myself by her--& began to row also--presently we put to shore & another woman jumped in--it seems it is the custom here for the boats to be manned by women--for of five men & three women in our bark--all the women took an oar--and but one man.----Got to Interlachen in three hours--pretty Lake--not so large as that of Thoun.--Dined at Interlachen--Girl gave me some flowers--& made me a speech in German--of which I know nothing--I do not know whether the speech was pretty but as the woman was--I hope so.--Saw another--very pretty too--and tall which I prefer--I hate short women--for more reasons than one.--Reembarked on the Lake of Thoun--fell asleep part of the way--sent our horses round--found people on the shore blowing up a rock with gunpowder--they blew it up near our boat--only telling us a minute before--mere stupidity--but they might have broke our noddles.--Got to Thoun in the Evening--the weather has been tolerable the whole day--but as the wild part of our tour is finished, it don't matter to us--in all the desirable part--we have been most lucky in warmth & clearness of Atmosphere--for which "Praise we the Lord."----

Septr. 26th.

Being out of the mountains my journal must be as flat as my journey. ----From Thoun to Bern good road--hedges--villages--industry--prosperity--and all sorts of tokens of insipid civilization.----From Bern to Fribourg.--Different Canton--Catholics--passed a field of Battle--Swiss beat the French--in one of the late wars against the French Republic.--Bought a dog--a very ugly dog--but "tres mechant". This was his great recommendation in the owner's eyes & mine--for I mean him to watch the carriage--he hath no tail--& is called "Mutz"--which signifies "Short-tail"--he is apparently of the Shepherd dog genus!--'I he greater part of this tour has been on horseback--on foot--and on mule;--the Filly (which is one of two young horses I bought of the Baron de Vincy) carried me very well--she is young and as quiet as anything of her sex can be--very goodtempered--and perpetually neighing--when she wants any thing--which is every five minutes--I have called her Biche--because her manners are not unlike a little dog's--but she is a very tame--pretty childish quadruped.--

Septr. 28th. [27th.]

Saw the tree planted in honour of the battle of Morat--340 years old--a good deal decayed.--Left Fribourg--but first saw the Cathedral--high tower--overtook the baggage of the Nuns of La Trappe who are removing to Normandy from their late abode in the Canton of Fribourg--afterwards a coach with a quantity of Nuns in it--NUIIS old--proceeded along the banks of the Lake of Neufchatel--very pleasing & soft--but not so mountainous--at least the Jura not appearing so--after the Bernese Alps--reached Yverdun in the dusk --a long line of large trees on the border of the lake--fine & sombre--the Auberge nearly full--with a German Princess & suite--got rooms--we hope to reach Diodati the day after tomorrow--and I wish for a letter from you my own dearest Sis--May your sleep be soft and your dreams of me.--I am going to bed--good night.-- 

Septr. 29th. [28th.]

Passed through a fine & flourishing country--but not mountainous--in the evening reached Aubonne (the entrance & bridge something like that of Durham) which commands by far the fairest view of the Lake of Geneva--twilight--the Moon on the Lake--a grove on the height--and of very noble trees.--Here Tavernier (the Eastern traveller) bought (or built) the Chateau because the site resembled and equalled that of Erivan (a frontier city of Persia) here he finished his voyages--and I this little excursion--for I am within a few hours of Diodati--& have little more to see--& no more to say.--In the weather for this tour (of 13 days) I have been very fortunate--fortunate in a companion (Mr. H[obhous]e) fortunate in our prospects--and exempt from even the little petty accidents & delays which often render journeys in a less wild country--disappointing.--I was disposed to be pleased--I am a lover of Nature--and an Admirer of Beauty--I can bear fatigue--& welcome privation--and have seen some of the noblest views in the world.--But in all this--the recollections of bitterness--& more especially of recent & more home desolation--which must accompany me through life--have preyed upon me here--and neither the music of the Shepherd--the crashing of the Avalanche--nor the torrent--the mountain--the Glacier--the Forest--nor the Cloud--have for one moment--lightened the weight upon my heart--nor enabled me to lose my own wretched identity in the majesty & the power and the Glory--around--above--& beneath me.--I am past reproaches--and there is a time for all things--I am past the wish of vengeance--and I know of none like for what I have suffered--but the hour will come--when what I feel must be felt--& the----but enough.----To you--dearest Augusta--I send--and for you--I have kept this record of what I have seen & felt.--Love me as you are beloved by me.----

[TO AUGUSTA LEIGH] Milan, Octr. 15, 1816

My dearest Augusta--I have been at Churches, Theatres, libraries, and picture galleries. The Cathedral is noble, the theatre grand, the library excellent, and the galleries I know nothing about--except as far as liking one picture out of a thousand. What has delighted me most is a manuscript collection (preserved in the Ambrosian library), of original love-letters and verses of Lucretia de Borgia & Cardinal Bembo; and a lock of hair--so long--and fair & beautiful--and the letters so pretty & so loving that it makes one wretched not to have been born sooner to have at least seen her. And pray what do you think is one of her signatures?--why this + a Cross--which she says ' is to stand for her name &c." Is not this amusing? I suppose you know that she was a famous beauty, & famous for the use she made of it; & that she was the love of this same Cardinal Bembo (besides a story about her papa Pope Alexander & her brother Caesar Borgia--which some people don't believe--& others do), and that after all she ended with being Duchess of Ferrara, and an excellent mother & wife also; so good as to be quite an example. All this may or may not be, but the hair & the letters are so beautiful that I have done nothing but pore over them, & have made the librarian promise me a copy of some of them; and I mean to get some of the hair if I can. The verses are Spanish--the letters Italian--some signed--others with a cross--but all in her own hand-writing.

I am so hurried, & so sleepy, but so anxious to send you even a few lines my dearest Augusta, that you will forgive me troubling you so often; and I shall write again soon; but I have sent you so much lately, that you will have too many perhaps. A thousand loves to you from me--which is very generous for I only ask one in return

Ever dearest thine
B

 
[TO AUGUSTA LEIGH] Octr. 28th, 1816

My dearest Augusta--Two days ago I wrote you the enclosed but the arrival of your letter of the 12th. has revived me a little, so pray forgive the apparent "humeur" of the other, which I do not tear up--from laziness--and the hurry of the post as I have hardly time to write another at present.

I really do not & cannot understand all the mysteries & alarms in your letters & more particularly in the last. All I know is--that no human power short of destruction--shall prevent me from seeing you when--where--& how--I may please--according to time & circumstance; that you are the only comfort (except the remote possibility of my daughter's being so ) left me in prospect in existence, and that I can bear the rest--so that you remain; but anything which is to divide us would drive me quite out of my senses; Miss Milbanke appears in all respects to have been formed for my destruction; I have thus far--as you know--regarded her without feelings of personal bitterness towards her, but if directly or indirectly--but why do I say this?--You know she is the cause of all--whether intentionally or not is little to the purpose----You surely do not mean to say that if I come to England in Spring, that you & I shall not meet? If so I will never return to it--though I must for many reasons--business &c &c--But I quit this topic for the present.

My health is good, but I have now & then fits of giddiness, & deafness, which make me think like Swift--that I shall be like him & the withered tree he saw--which occasioned the reflection and "die at top" first. My hair is growing grey, & not thicker; & my teeth are sometimes looseish though still white & sound. Would not one think I was sixty instead of not quite nine & twenty? To talk thus--Never mind--either this must end--or I must end--but I repeat it again & again--that woman has destroyed me.

Milan has been made agreeable by much attention and kindness from many of the natives; but the whole tone of Italian society is so different from yours in England; that I have not time to describe it, tho' I am not sure that I do not prefer it. Direct as usual to Geneva--hope the best--& love me the most--as I ever must love you.

 B

[TO THOMAS MOORE] Venice, November 17th, 1816

I wrote to you from Verona the other day in my progress hither, which letter I hope you will receive. Some three years ago, or it may be more, I recollect your telling me that you had received a letter from our friend Sam, dated "On board his gondola". My gondola is, at this present, waiting for me on the canal; but I prefer writing to you in the house, it being autumn--and rather an English autumn than otherwise. It is my intention to remain at Venice during the winter, probably, as it has always been (next to the East) the greenest island of my imagination. It has not disappointed me; though its evident decay would, perhaps, have that effect upon others. But I have been familiar with ruins too long to dislike desolation. Besides, I have fallen in love, which, next to falling into the canal, (which would be of no use, as I can swim. ) is the best or the worst thing I could do. I have got some extremely good apartments in the house of a "Merchant of Venice," who is a good deal occupied with business, and has a wife in her twenty-second year. Marianna (that is her name) is in her appearance altogether like an antelope. She has the large, black, oriental eyes, with that peculiar expression in them which is seen rarely among Europeans--even the Italians--and which many of the Turkish women give themselves by tinging the eyelid,--an art not known out of that country, I believe. This expression she has naturally,--and something more than this. In short, I cannot describe the effect of this kind of eye,--at least upon me. Her features are regular, and rather aquiline--mouth small--skin clear and soft, with a kind of hectic colour--forehead remarkably good: her hair is of the dark gloss, curl, and colour of Lady J * * 's [Jersey's]: her figure is light and pretty, and she is a famous songstress--scientifically so; her natural voice ( in conversation, I mean ) is very sweet; and the naivete of the Venetian dialect is always pleasing in the mouth of a woman.

November 23

You will perceive that my description, which was proceeding with the minuteness of a passport, has been interrupted for several days. In the meantime * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Since my former dates, I do not know that I have much to add on the subject, and, luckily, nothing to take away; for I am more pleased than ever with my Venetian, and begin to feel very serious on that point--so much so, that I shall be silent. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * By way of divertisement, I am studying daily, at an Armenian monastery, the Armenian language. I found that my mind wanted something craggy to break upon; and this--as the most difficult thing I could discover here for an amusement--I have chosen, to torture me into attention. It is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it. I try, and shall go on;--but I answer for nothing, least of all for my intentions or my success. There are some very curious MSS. in the monastery, as well as books; translations also from Greek originals, now lost, and from Persian and &c.; besides works of their own people. Four years ago the French instituted an Armenian professorship. Twenty pupils presented themselves on Monday morning, full of noble ardour, ingenuous youth, and impregnable industry. They persevered, with a courage worthy of the nation and of universal conquest, till Thursday; when fifteen of the twenty succumbed to the six-and-twentieth letter of the alphabet. It is, to be sure, a Waterloo of an Alphabet--that must be said for them. But it is so like these fellows, to do by it as they did by their sovereigns--abandon both; to parody the old rhymes, "Take a thing and give a thing"--"Take a King and give a King". They are the worst of animals, except their conquerors.

I hear that H[odgso]n is your neighbour, having a living in Derbyshire. You will find him an excellent-hearted fellow, as well as one of the cleverest; a little, perhaps, too much japanned by preferment in the church and the tuition of youth, as well as inoculated with the disease of domestic felicity, besides being over-run with fine feelings about women and constancy (that small change of Love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal); but, otherwise, a very worthy man, who has lately got a pretty wife, and (I suppose) a child by this time. Pray remember me to him, and say that I know not which to envy most--his neighbourhood, him, or you.

Of Venice I shall say little. You must have seen many descriptions; and they are most of them like. It is a poetical place; and classical, to us, from Shakespeare and Otway. I have not yet sinned against it in verse, nor do I know that I shall do so, having been tuneless since I crossed the Alps, and feeling, as yet, no renewal of the "estro". By the way, I suppose you have seen "Glenarvon". Madame de Stael lent it me to read from Copet last autumn. It seems to me that, if the authoress had written the truth, and nothing but the truth--the whole truth--the romance would not only have been more romantic, but more entertaining. As for the likeness, the picture can't be good--I did not sit long enough. When you have leisure, let me hear from and of you, believing me,

Ever and truly yours most affectionately,

P.S.--Oh! your Poem--is it out? I hope Longman has paid his thousands: but don't you do as H[orace] T[wiss]'s father did, who, having made money by a quarto tour, became a vinegar merchant; when, lo! his vinegar turned sweet (and be damned to it) and ruined him. My last letter to you (from Verona) was enclosed to Murray--have you got it? Direct to me here, poste restante. There are no English here at present. There were several in Switzerland--some women; but, except Lady Dalrymple Hamilton, most of them as ugly as virtue--at least, those I saw.

[TO JOHN MURRAY] Venice, Novr. 25th, 1816

Dear Sir--It is some months since I have heard from or of you--I think--not since I left Diodati.--From Milan I wrote once or twice;--but have been here some little time--and intend to pass the winter without removing.--I was much pleased with the Lago di Garda & with Verona--particularly the amphitheatre--and a sarcophagus in a Convent garden--which they show as Juliet's--they insist on the truth of her history.--Since my arrival at Venice--the Lady of the Austrian Governor told me that between Verona & Vicenza there are still ruins of the Castle of the Montecchi--and a chapel once appertaining to the Capulets--Romeo seems to have been of Vicenza by the tradition--but I was a good deal surprized to find so firm a faith in Bandello's novel--which seems really to have been founded on a fact.----Venice pleases me as much as I expected--and I expected much--it is one of those places which I know before I see them--and has always haunted me the most--after the East.----I like the gloomy gaiety of their gondolas--and the silence of their canals--I do not even dislike the evident decay of the city--though I regret the singularity of it's vanished costume--however there is much left still;--the Carnival too is coming.----St. Mark's--and indeed Venice--is most alive at night--the theatres are not open till nine--and the society is proportionably late--all this is to my taste--but most of your countrymen miss & regret the rattle of hackney coaches--without which they can't sleep.----I have got remarkably good apartments in a private house--I see something of the inhabitants (having had a good many letters to some of them) I have got my gondola--I read a little--& luckily could speak Italian ( more fluently though than accurately) long ago;--I am studying out of curiosity the Venetian dialect--which is very naive--soft & peculiar--though not at all classical--I go out frequently--and am in very good contentment.----The Helen of Canova--(a bust which is in the house of M[adam]e the Countess d'Albrizzi whom I know) is without exception to my mind the most perfectly beautiful of human conceptions--and far beyond my ideas of human execution.--

In this beloved marble view
Above the works & thoughts of Man--
What Nature could--but would not do--
And Beauty and Canova can!
Beyond Imagination's power--
Beyond the Bard's defeated art,
With immortality her dower--
Behold the Helen of the heart!

Talking of the "heart" reminds me that I have fallen in love--which except falling into the Canal--(and that would be useless as I swim) is the best (or worst) thing I could do.----I am therefore in love-- fathomless love--but lest you should make some splendid mistake--& envy me the possession of some of those Princesses or Countesses with whose affections your English voyagers are apt to invest themselves--I beg leave to tell you--that my Goddess is only the wife of a "Merchant of Venice"--but then she is pretty as an Antelope,--is but two & twenty years old--has the large black Oriental eyes--with the Italian countenance--and dark glossy hair of the curl & colour of Lady Jersey's--then she has the voice of a lute--and the song of a Seraph (though not quite so sacred) besides a long postscript of graces--virtues and accomplishments--enough to furnish out a new Chapter for Solomon's song.--But her great merit is finding out mine--there is nothing so amiable as discernment.--Our little arrangement is completed--the usual oaths having been taken--and everything fulfilled according to the "understood relations" of such liaisons. The general race of women appear to be handsome--but in Italy as on almost all the Continent--the highest orders are by no means a well looking generation--and indeed reckoned by their countrymen very much otherwise.--Some are exceptions but most of them as ugly as Virtue herself.--If you write--address to me here Poste Restante--as I shall probably stay the winter over.--I never see a newspaper & know nothing of England--except in a letter now & then from my Sister.--Of the M.S. sent you I know nothing except that you have received it--& are to publish it &c. &c. but when--where--& how--you leave me to guess--. But it don't much matter.-- --I suppose you have a world of works passing through your process for next year--when does Moore's poem appear?--I sent a letter for him addressed to your care the other day.--So--Mr. Frere is married--and you tell me in a former letter that he had "nearly forgotten that he was so--"--he is fortunate.---

yrs ever & very truly
B

[TO DOUGLAS KINNAIRD] Venice, Novr. 27th, 1816

My dear Kinnaird--Before I left Switzerland I answered your last & feel a little anxious to know that you have received it--as it was partly on business--that is to say on the disposition of Murray's proposed payment.--I fear there seems little chance of an immediate Sale of Newstead, which is to be wished for many reasons.--H[obhouse] & I have been some time in the North of Italy--& reached Venice about a fortnight ago--where I shall remain probably during the winter.----It is a place which I like--and which I long anticipated that I should like--besides--I have fallen in love--and with a very pretty woman--so much so--as to obtain the approbation of the not easily approving H[obhouse]--who is in general rather tardy in his applause of the fairer part of the creation.----She is married--so our arrangement was formed according to the incontinent continental system--which need not be described to you an experienced voyager--and gifted withal with a modest self-confidence--which my bashful nature is not endowed with--but nonetheless I have got the woman--I do not very well know how--but we do exceedingly well together.--She is not two and twenty--with great black Eastern eyes--and a variety of subsidiary charms &c. &c. and amongst her other accomplishments--is a mighty & admirable singer--as most of the Italians are--(though not a public one)--luckily I can speak the language fluently--& luckily (if I did not) we could employ ourselves a little without talking.----I meant to have given up gallivanting altogether--on leaving your country--where I had been totally sickened of that & every thing else--but I know not how it is--my health growing better--& my spirits not worse--the "besoin d'aimer" came back upon my heart again--after all there is nothing like it.----So much for that matter.----I hear you are in a room with Dibdin & Fanny Kelly--& the Devil knows whom--Humph!----I hear also that at the meeting or in the committee--you said that I was coming back in spring--it is probable--& if you have said so I will come--for sundry reasons--to see my daughter--my sister--and my friends--(and not least nor last--yourself) to renew my proxy (if Parliament be dissolved) for the Whigs--to see Mr. Waite & Mr. Blake--and the newest play--and the S[ub] committee--and to sell Newstead (if I can) but not to reside in England again--it neither suits me--nor I it--my greatest error was remaining there--that is to say--my greatest error but one--my ambition--if ever I had merits--is over--or at least limited--if I could but remain as I now am--I should not merely be happy--but contented which in my mind is the strongest & most difficult attainment of the two--for any one who will hazard enough may have moments of happiness.----I have books--a decent establishment--a fine country--a language which I prefer--most of the amusements & conveniences of life--as much of society as I choose to take--and a handsome woman--who is not a bore--and does not annoy me with looking like a fool & <pretending> setting up for a sage.--Life has little left for my curiosity--there are few things in it of which I have not had a sight and a share--it would be silly to quarrel with my luck because it did not last--& even that was partly my own fault.----If the present does--I should not fall out with the past:--and if I could but manage to arrange my pecuniary concerns in England--so as to pay my debts--& leave me what would be here a very fair income--(though nothing remarkable at home) you might consider me as posthumous--for I would never willingly dwell in the "tight little Island".----Pray write to me a line or two addressed to Venice--Poste Restante--I hope to remain here the winter--remember me to Maria--and believe me yrs. ever & truly & affectly.

P.S.--Colonel Finch an English acquaintance of H[obhouse]'s & mine has I believe written to you to complain of his banker (who is also mine ) and has with our permission mentioned our names to you as knowing him.--I must however say that I have no complaint whatever against ( Mr. Siri ) the banker--who has on the contrary been remarkably civil & attentive to both H & myself.----Of Col. Finch's row with him I understand nothing--but that he had one.----Pray let me hear from you--& tell me what Murray has done--& if you have received my letter from Geneva in answer to your former one.----

P.S.--If you write to me--pray--do not refer to any persons or events -- except our own theatrical -- political -- personal -- attorneycal -- poetical --& diabolical -- concerns. You see I give a pretty wide range still--but what I wish to put under Quarantine are ( my ) family events--& all allusion thereto past--present--or to come.--It is what I have laid an embargo on with all my other friends.--It will be better that the Author of these lines (if spoken) be not avowed--pray--make it a secret & keep it so.----

 
[TO AUGUSTA LEIGH] Venice, Decr. 18th, 1816

My dearest Augusta--I have received one letter dated 19th. Novr. I think (or rather earlier by a week or two perhaps) since my arrival in Venice--where it is my intention to remain probably till the Spring.--The place pleases me--I have found some pleasing society--& the romance of the situation--& it's extraordinary appearance--together with all the associations we are accustomed to connect with Venice--have always had a charm for me--even before I arrived here--and I have not been disappointed in what I have seen.----I go every morning to the Armenian Convent (of friars not nuns--my child) to study the language--I mean the Armenian language--(for as you perhaps know--I am versed in the Italian which I speak with fluency rather than accuracy--) and if you ask me my reason for studying this out of the way language--I can only answer that it is Oriental & difficult--& employs me--which are--as you know my Eastern & difficult way of thinking--reasons sufficient. Then I have fallen in love with a very pretty Venetian of two and twenty--with great black eyes --she is married--and so am I--which is very much to the purpose--we have found & sworn an eternal attachment--which has already lasted a lunar month--& I am more in love than ever--& so is the lady--at least she says so--& seems so,--she does not plague me (which is a wonder--) and I verily believe we are one of the happiest--unlawful couples on this side of the Alps.----She is very handsome--very Italian or rather Venetian--with something more of the Oriental cast of countenance;--accomplished & musical after the manner of her nation--her spouse is a very good kind of man who occupies himself elsewhere--and thus the world goes on here as elsewhere.----This adventure came very opportunely to console me--for I was beginning to be "like Sam Jennings very unappy" but at present--at least for a month past--I have been very tranquil--very loving--& have not so much embarrassed myself with the tortures of the last two years--and that virtuous monster Miss Milbanke, who had nearly driven me out of my senses.----Hobhouse has gone to Rome with his brother & sister--but returns here in February:--you will easily suppose that I was not disposed to stir from my present position. I have not heard recently from England & wonder if Murray has published the po's sent to him--& I want to know if you don't think them very fine & all that--Goosey my love--don't they make you "put finger in eye?"--You can have no idea of my thorough wretchedness from the day of my parting from you till nearly a month ago--though I struggled against it with some strength--at present I am better--thank Heaven above--& woman beneath--and will be a very good boy.----Pray remember me to the babes--& tell me of little Da--who by the way--is a year old--and a few days over.----My love to you all--& to Aunt Sophy--pray tell her in particular that I have consoled myself;----and tell Hodgson that his prophecy is accomplished--he said--you remember--I should be in love with an Italian--so I am.--

ever dearest yrs.

P.S.--I forgot to tell you--that the Demoiselle--who returned to England from Geneva--went there to produce a new baby B.--who is now about to make his appearance--you wanted to hear some adventures--these are enough I think for one epistle.----Pray address direct to Venice. Poste Restante.

Venice, Decr. 19th, 1816

My dearest Augusta--I wrote to you a few days ago.--Your letter of the 1st. is arrived--and you have "a hope" for me--it seems--what "hope"--child?--my dearest Sis. I remember a methodist preacher who on perceiving a profane grin on the faces of part of his congregation--exclaimed "no hopes for them as laughs" and thus it is --with us--we laugh too much for hopes--and so even let them go--I am sick of sorrow--& must even content myself as well as I can--so here goes--I won't be woeful again if I can help it.--My letter to my moral Clytemnestra required no answer--& I would rather have none--I was wretched enough when I wrote it--& had been so for many a long day & month--at present I am less so--for reasons explained in my late letter (a few days ago) and as I never pretend to be what I am not you may tell her if you please that I am recovering--and the reason also if you like it.--I do not agree with you about Ada--there was equivocation in the answer--and it shall be settled one way or the other--I wrote to Hanson to take proper steps to prevent such a removal of my daughter--and even the probability of it--you do not know the woman so well as I do--or you would perceive in her very negative answer--that she does intend to take Ada with her--if she should go abroad.----I have heard of Murray's squabble with one of his brethren--who is an impudent impostor--and should be trounced. ----You do not say whether the true po's are out--I hope you like them.--You are right in saying that I like Venice--it is very much what you would imagine it--but I have no time just now for description;--the Carnival is to begin in a week--and with it the mummery of masking.----I have not been out a great deal--but quite as much as I like--I am going out this evening--in my cloak & Gondola--there are two nice Mrs. Radcliffe words for you--and then there is the place of St Mark--and conversaziones--and various fooleries--besides many nau[ghty]. indeed every body is nau. so much so that a lady with only one lover is not reckoned to have overstepped the modesty of marriage--that being a regular thing;--some have two--three--and so on to twenty beyond which they don't account--but they generally begin by one.----The husbands of course belong to any body's wives--but their own.----My present beloved--is aged two & twenty--with remarkably fine black eyes--and very regular & pretty features--figure light & pretty--hair dark--a mighty good singer--as they all are--she is married (of course) & has one child--a girl.--Her temper very good--(as you know it had need to be) and lively--she is a Venetian by birth--& was never further from Venice than Milan in her days--her lord is about five years older than me--an exceeding good kind of a man.--That amatory appendage called by us a lover--is here denominated variously--sometimes an "Amoroso" (which is the same thing) and sometimes a Cavaliero servente--which I need not tell you--is a serving Cavalier.----I told my fair one--at setting out--that as to the love and the Cavaliership--I was quite of accord--but as to the servitude--it would not suit me at all--so I begged to hear no more about it.--You may easily suppose I should not at all shine in the ceremonious department--so little so--that instead of handing the Lady as in duty bound into the Gondola--I as nearly as possible conveyed her into the Canal--and this at midnight--to be sure it was as dark as pitch--but if you could have seen the gravity with which I was committing her to the waves--thinking all the time of something or other not to the purpose;--I always forget that the streets are canals--and was going to walk her over the water --if the servants & the Gondoliers had not awakened me.----So much for love & all that.----The music here is famous--and there will be a whole tribe of singers & dancers during the Carnival--besides the usual theatres.--The Society here is something like our own--except that the women sit in a semicircle at one end of the room--& the men stand at the other.--I pass my mornings at the Armenian convent studying Armenian. My evenings here & there--tonight I am going to the Countess Albrizzi's--one of the noblesse--I have also been at the Governor's--who is an Austrian--& whose wife the Countess Goetz appeared to me in the little I have seen of her a very amiable & pleasing woman--with remarkably good manners--as many of the German women have.--There are no English here--except birds of passage--who stay a day & and then go on to Florence--or Rome.--I mean to remain here till Spring.--When you write address directly here--as in your present letter.--

ever dearest yrs.
B

Return to Byron Homepage
Continue to next section of Letters and Journals