‘The cause of Greece naturally excites our sympathy. Her people are Christians contending against Turks, and slaves struggling to be free. There never was a cause which had such strong claims on the sympathy of the people of Europe, and particularly of the people of England.’[16]
The following extract from a letter written by Mr. George Finlay in June, 1824, seems worthy of production in this place:
‘I arrived at Missolonghi at the latter end of February. During my stay there, in the forenoon I rode out with Lord Byron; and generally Mr. Fowke and myself spent the evenings in his room.
‘In our rides, the state of Greece was the usual subject of our conversation; and at times he expressed a strong wish to revisit Athens. I mentioned the great cheapness of property in Attica, and the possibility of my purchasing some of the villas near the city. He said that, if I could find any eligible property, he would have no objections to purchase likewise, as he wished to have some real property in Greece; and he authorized me to treat for him. I always urged him to make Corinth his headquarters. Sometimes he appeared inclined to do so, and remarked, that it would be a strange coincidence if, after writing an unsuccessful defence of Corinth, he should himself make a successful one. An event so fortunate, I said, would leave him no more to ask from fortune, and reminded him how very much of fame depends on mere accident. Cæsar’s conquests and his works would not have raised his fame so high, but for the manner of his death.
‘In the evenings Lord Byron was generally extremely communicative, and talked much of his youthful scenes at Cambridge, Brighton, and London; spoke very often of his friends, Mr. Hobhouse and Mr. Scrope B. Davies—told many anecdotes of himself which are well known, and many which were amusing from his narration, but which would lose their interest from another; but what astonished me the most was the ease with which he spoke of all those reports which were spread by his enemies—he gave his denials and explanations with the frankness of an unconcerned person.
‘I often spoke to him about Newstead Abbey, which I had visited in 1821, a few months before leaving England. On informing him of the repairs and improvements which were then going on, he said, if he had been rich enough, he should have liked to have kept it as the old abbey; but he enjoyed the excellent bargain he had made at the sale. A solicitor sent him a very long bill, and, on his grumbling at the amount, he said he was silenced by a letter, reminding him that he had received £20,000 forfeit-money from the first purchaser. I mentioned the picture of his bear in the cottage near the lodge—the Newfoundland dog and the verses on its tomb. He said, Newfoundland dogs had twice saved his life, and that he could not live without one.
‘He spoke frequently of the time he lived at Aberdeen. Their house was near the college. He described the place, but I have forgotten it. He said his mother’s “lassack” used to put him to bed at a very early hour, and then go to converse with her lover; he had heard the house was haunted, and sometimes used to get out of bed and run along the lobby in his shirt, till he saw a light, and there remain standing till he was so cold he was forced to go to bed again. One night the servant returning, he grew frightened and ran towards his room; the maid saw him, and fled more frightened than he; she declared she had seen a ghost. Lord Byron said, he was so frightened at the maid, he kept the secret till she was turned away; and, he added, he never since kept a secret half so long. The first passion he ever felt was for a young lady who was on a visit to his mother while they lived in Scotland; he was at the time about six years old, and the young lady about nine, yet he was almost ill on her leaving his mother’s house to return home. He told me, if I should ever meet the lady (giving me her address), to ask her if she remembers him. On some conversation about the “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” he gave as a reason for his attacking many of the persons included, that he was informed, some time before the publication of the review, that the next number was to contain an article on his poems which had been read at Holland House. “Judge of my fever; was it not a pleasant situation for a young author?”
‘In conversation he used to deliver very different opinions on many authors from those contained in his works; in the one case he might be guided more by his judgment, and in the other submit entirely to his own particular taste. I have quoted his writings in opposition to his words, and he replied, “Never mind what I print; that is not what I think.” He certainly did not consider much of the poetry of the present day as “possessing buoyancy enough to float down the stream of time.” I remarked, he ought really to alter the passage in the preface of “Marino Faliero,” on living dramatic talent; he exclaimed, laughing, “Do you mean me to erase the name of moral me?” In this manner he constantly distinguished Milman, alluding to some nonsense in the Quarterly Review. He was extremely amused with Blackwood’s Magazine, and read it whenever he could get a number; he has frequently repeated to me passages of Ensign O’Doherty’s poetry, which I had not read, and expressed great astonishment at the ability displayed by the author.
‘On a gentleman present once asking his opinion of the works of a female author of some note, he said, “A bad imitation of me—all pause and start.”
‘On my borrowing Mitford’s “History of Greece” from him, and saying I had read it once, and intended commencing it again in Greece, he said, “I hate the book; it makes you too well acquainted with the ancient Greeks, and robs antiquity of all its charms. History in his hands, has no poetry.”