“The room’s so full of wits and bards,
Crabbes, Campbells, Crokers, Freres, and Wards,
And others, neither bards nor wits,
My humble tenement admits
All persons in the dress of gent,
From Mr. Hammond to Dog Dent.
A party dines with me to-day,
All clever men who make their way;
Crabbe, Malcolm, Hamilton, and Chantrey
Are all partakers of my pantry.
* * * * *
My room’s so full—we’ve Gifford here,
Reading MS. with Hookham Frere,
Pronouncing on the nouns and particles
Of some of our forthcoming articles.”
Mr. Planché, in his recently-published “Recollections,” gives us an amusing account of one of these literary réunions; this time, however, at the house of Horace Twiss. Murray, James Smith, and others remained in the dining-room very late, and the party grew noisy and merry, for Hook was giving some of his wonderful extempore songs. Pressed for another, he declared that the subject should be “John Murray;” but the “Emperor of the West” objected most vehemently, and vainly chased Hook round the table in furtive endeavours to stop a recitative, of which Planché only remembers the beginning:—
“My friend, John Murray, I see, has arrived at the head of the table,
And the wonder is, at this time of night, that John Murray should be able.
He’s an excellent hand at supper, and not a bad hand at lunch,
But the devil of John Murray is, that he never will pass the punch!”
Among the many instances of Murray’s munificence was the offer of £3000 to Crabbe for his “Tales of the Hall,” and the copyright of his prior works. Some zealous friends, however, thought this too small a sum, and opened negotiations with another firm, but the other firm offered considerably less; and Crabbe, fearing that Murray might consider the bargain as out of his hands entirely now, went straightway to Albemarle Street with Rogers and Moore as mediators. Murray, however, assured them that he had from the first considered the matter as entirely settled.
Lord Byron’s personal connection with the Albemarle Street clique was of comparatively short existence, for, in 1816, he left England for the last time; but to the time of his death he kept up a regular correspondence with Murray of the frankest and most cordial kind. Now, Murray hearing that Lord Byron was in difficulties, sends him a draft for £1500, promising another for the same amount in the course of a few months, and offering to sell the copyright of his works for his use, if that were not sufficient. Then, again, in a freak, Byron presents Murray with “Parisina” and the “Siege of Corinth,” and returns the cheque for £1000 which the publisher had forwarded.
“Your offer is liberal in the extreme, and much more than the two poems can possibly be worth; but I cannot accept it, nor will not. You are most welcome to them as an addition to the collected volumes, without any demand or expectation on my part whatever.
“P.S.—I have enclosed your draft, torn, for fear of accidents by the way. I wish you would not throw temptation in mine; it is not from a disdain of the universal idol, nor from a present superfluity of his treasures, I can assure you, that I refuse to worship him; but what is right is right, and must not yield to circumstances.”
The following is in a somewhat different tone:—