The child turned round, lifted up his whip and lashed the woman with all his might. "Dinna say that!" he said.
His mother, strange to say, never understood how proud the child was. Byron was misunderstood by the two beings who, when they understand a man, can shed most happiness upon his life—his mother and his wife. Byron's mother, as we have said, never realised the child's pride, and used to call him "my lame boy."
If you would learn what this flaw in maternal love cost the lad, read what Arnold says in the first scene of The Deformed Transformed:—
"A Forest
Enter ARNOLD and his mother BERTHA
Bert.
Out, hunchback!
Arn.
I was born so, mother!
Bert.
Out,
Thou incubus! Thou nightmare! Of seven sons,
The sole abortion!
Arn.
Would that I had been so,
And never seen the light!
Bert.
I would so too!
But as thou hast—hence, hence—and do thy best!
That back of thine may bear its burthen; 'tis
More high, if not so broad as that of others.
Arn.
It bears its burthen:—but, my heart! Will it
Sustain that which you lay upon it, mother?
I love, or, at the least, I loved you: nothing
Save you, in nature, can love aught like me.
You nursed me—do not kill me!"
At the age of five Byron was sent to school in Aberdeen, where they paid but five shillings a quarter for him. I had thought no child had ever been educated more cheaply than I had; but I was mistaken, and I present my congratulations to Byron as a brother at least in poverty.
Although the future poet spent a whole year in this school, one of his biographers tells us he hardly managed to learn his letters. I had this further advantage over Byron that my mother taught me to read: God gave me at least half of what Byron was denied—a good mother.
From the school at Aberdeen, Byron passed to the university of the same town. Alas! he was one of the worst scholars, and was always at the bottom of his class. Many of his schoolfellows can tell stories of the jokes which his masters made at his expense.
In 1798 the old Lord Byron died. He had been a roué of quality, who had had any number of love affairs and duels. He killed his friend Chaworth in one of his duels—an event which was to have its influence upon his son's life too.
Two years before, young Byron had paid a visit to the Scotch Highlands, from whence he derived that love of high peaks, shared by eagles and poets, which made him later sing the praises of the Alps, the Apennines and Parnassus.
It was during this tour our Dante met his Beatrice; her name was Mary Duff, and she was only eight years old.