‘Lord Byron’s death has shed a lustre on both his writings and his actions; they are in accordance. His life was sacrificed in the cause for which he had early written, and which he constantly supported. His merit would not have been greater had he breathed his last on the isthmus of Corinth at the conclusion of a baffled siege. Yet such a death would certainly have been more fortunate; for it would have recalled his name oftener to the memory, at least, of those who have no souls. Time will put an end to all undue admiration and malicious cant, and the world will ultimately form an estimate of Byron’s character from his writings and his public conduct. It will then be possible to form a just estimate of the greatness of his genius and his mind, and the real extent of his faults. The ridiculous calumnies which have found a moment’s credit will then be utterly forgotten. Nor will it be from the cursory memoirs or anecdotes of his contemporaries that his character can be drawn.’
Blaquière, who had brought out the first instalment of the Greek loan, arrived at Zante on April 24, and was there informed of Byron’s death. He had been among the first to urge Byron to hasten his projected visit to Greece, and had held a long conversation with him at Genoa on the state of affairs in the Morea. The following extract is taken from a letter which he wrote to a friend in England:
‘Thus terminated the life of Lord Byron, at a moment the most glorious for his own fame, but the most unfortunate for Greece; since there is no doubt but, had he lived, many calamities would have been avoided, while his personal credit and guarantee would have prevented the ruinous delay which has taken place with regard to transferring the loan. In thus devoting his life and fortune to the cause of religion and humanity, when he might have continued to enjoy the enthusiastic praises of his contemporaries, he has raised the best monument to his own fame, and has furnished the most conclusive reply to calumny and detraction. When all he had done, and was about to do for the cause, is considered, no wonder that Lord Byron’s death should have produced such an effect. It was, in fact, regarded not only as a national calamity, but as an irreparable loss to every individual in the town of Missolonghi, and the English volunteers state that hundreds of the Greeks were seen to shed tears when the event was announced.
‘With respect to Prince Mavrocordato, to whom Lord Byron had rendered the most important services, both as a personal friend and in his capacity of Governor-General of Western Greece, it is unnecessary to say that he could not have received a severer blow. When I saw Lord Byron at Genoa last year, I well remember with what enthusiasm he spoke of his intended visit, and how much he regretted not having joined the standard of freedom long before. When once in Greece, he espoused her most sacred cause with zeal. Up to the time of his fatal illness he had not advanced less than fifty thousand dollars, and there is no doubt but he intended to devote the whole of his private income to the service of the confederation.’
Millingen says:
‘The most dreadful public calamity could not have spread more general consternation, or more profound and sincere grief, than the unexpected news of Lord Byron’s death. During the few months he had lived among the people of Missolonghi, he had given so many proofs of the sincerity and extent of his zeal for the advancement of their best interests. He had, with so much generosity, sacrificed considerable sums to that purpose; he had relieved the distress of so many unfortunate persons, that everyone looked upon him as a father and public benefactor. These titles were not, as they mostly are, the incense of adulation, but the spontaneous tribute of overflowing gratitude. He had succeeded in inspiring the soldiers with the brightest and most sanguine expectations. Full of confidence in a chief they loved, they would have followed him in the boldest enterprises. To-day they must follow the corpse of him whom they received but yesterday with the liveliest acclamations.’
Trelawny, who arrived at Missolonghi four days after Byron’s death, thus writes to Stanhope at Salona:
‘Lord Byron is dead. With all his faults, I loved him truly; he is connected with every event of the most interesting years of my wandering life. His everyday companion, we lived in ships, boats, and in houses, together; we had no secrets, no reserve, and though we often differed in opinion, we never quarrelled. It gave me pain witnessing his frailties; he only wanted a little excitement to awaken and put forth virtues that redeemed them all.... This is no private grief; the world has lost its greatest man, I my best friend.’
On April 28 Trelawny wrote again to Stanhope:
‘I think Byron’s name was the great means of getting the loan. A Mr. Marshall with £8,000 per annum was as far as Corfu, and turned back on hearing of Byron’s death.... The greatest man in the world has resigned his mortality in favour of this sublime cause; for had he remained in Italy he had lived!’