Byron’s Funeral Edited from B.L. Add.Mss. 56549

Friday July 2nd 1824

Up early – off, a little before eight, in a chaise for Standgate Creek1 – fifteen miles.  Could not get within two miles of the shore, but walked over the marshes and got into a boat which took me to the Florida, which was just under weigh.  I got on board, and sent back the boat.  I found Colonel Leicester Stanhope2 in charge of the remains of my friend, and of all his effects.  There also were Fletcher, and Dr Bruno,3 a young Italian physician, a courier,4 a groom (a black American),5 and a maitre d’hôtel.6  Three dogs belonging to Lord Byron were playing about7 – I could hardly bear to look at them.  The remains were below – I could not bring myself to see where they were placed, but I see by the inventory that the body was in a large butt of spirits, and the heart, the brain, and the intestines in separate cases but included in one chest.

We had to beat up the river.  The sensation I experienced during the passage for five or six hours up to Gravesend I cannot describe.  I was the last person that shook hands with Lord Byron when he left England at Dover in 18168 – I recollect him waving his cap as the packet bounded off on a swelling sea from the pier-head – and here I was coming back to England with him … but …

Poor Fletcher burst into tears and sobs when he first saw me, and several times, when telling me the sad story of his Lord’s last illness and death, he could not contain his grief – so much real feeling I never saw.  I shall take a note of a few things he mentioned, as well as what that excellent man Colonel Stanhope told me.

Dr Bruno the physician presented me a narrative of Lord Byron’s last illness, and a description of the body after death.9  It is a curious document – he seems to think Lord Byron’s life lost by wrong treatment – he has copies of this narrative, which he intends for others.  Fletcher gave me a narrative drawn up by Blaquière,10 chiefly from Fletcher’s information, directed to Mr Bowring,11 with a letter to me saying he “hoped I should not be displeased”.

About five o’clock we came to Gravesend.  Stanhope and I [went] on shore, and getting into a Rochester coach proceeded to London where we arrived a little after nine.

Stanhope gave me some most interest[ing] particulars of the struggle in Greece.

Early to bed – unwell.

Saturday July 3rd 1824

Went before breakfast to Mrs Leigh’s, where I was given a letter written by Mr Dallas12 to Mrs Leigh.  In this letter I was called the “son of a gentleman”, [and] was charged with writing an insolent letter to Dallas, and with having wished to prevent the publishing of Lord Byron’s letters merely on my own account13 – also with being a “pretended” friend who had hindered Lord Byron from appearing in that amiable light in which the publication of these letters would place him.  Dallas said that he had dashed out some passages, which he should now be justified in restoring, and also that he had omitted some things which might have given Mrs Leigh pain.  This is a pretty way of making a man appear amiable – namely by showing private letters in which he speaks ill of his confidential friends, and gives pain to his sister.

Murray came.  I showed him the letter – he said the man was a swindler.  He then showed me a new magazine, in which appeared some of the first part of “Byron’s memoirs” – the memoirs14 – which Tom Moore had sold to Murray for 2,000 guineas – what will Moore say to this?  The MSS were sold as property – they were not property – for Moore had showed them about so as to permit them to be copied, so that in fact, besides the gross indelicacy of the original transaction, we have a direct deception practised on a tradesman; and yet Tom Moore – honest Tom Moore – merry Tom Moore – clever Tom Moore15 – will get over this.  Holland House, Lansdowne House, and Barnes of the Times16 will push and puff him through, whilst those who declare against such nefarious dealing will be run down and reprobated – so goes the world – but never mind – go on.

I took Murray to Mrs Leigh.  She declared her approbation of my letter to Dallas, and her indignation at his to her.  She asked me to dictate an answer, but I refused, and told her to do it.  I then thought of going to Mr Knight, the intended publisher of the letters,17 and, saying that I was threatened with a publication of Lord Byron’s letters respecting me, I should now withdraw my warning of stopping the work.  But it then occurred to me that I had no right to give up the claim of the family to the property.  I consulted Kinnaird – he agreed with me, and told me to despise any such threat.  I did nothing.

Went to Greek Committee (in the chair).  Gave Bowring Blaquière’s MSS – he said he would do nothing without me.

Came back to Mrs Leigh and saw her letter to Dallas.  Went to Berkeley Square – dined and stayed the evening.

Sunday July 4th 1824

Woodeson18 called, and Hanson called.  Hanson advised an immediate injunction against Knight’s book – he told me several things of Lord Byron.  I walked to Lincoln’s Inn and then called on Mrs Leigh – walked in park with Joanna – dined at Berkeley Square <saw Murray who told me Dr Ireland, Dean of Westminster, had given his negative to burying Lord19>

Monday July 5th 1824

Went early to Lincoln’s Inn, and saw Bickersteth, who advised to move for an injunction against Dallas’ book.  Went to Doctor’s Commons and proved Lord Byron’s will, as did Mr Hanson.

Went thence to London Bridge and got a boat in which I went to London Dock Buoy,20 where the Florida was anchored.  I went on board – found Woodeson and his undertakers.  They were emptying the large butt in which the chest was enclosed containing the remains of Lord Byron.  It took a long time to get out all the spirit – when it had been done, the head of the barrel was knocked out and the chest appeared.  It was a long black box, hooped with iron, something like a coffin – the best that could be made at Missolonghi.  This was lifted out of the barrel with some difficulty and hoisted upon deck and placed alongside a leaden coffin prepared for the purpose.  I stayed by whilst they were knocking off the hoops of the chest – but when they began to break it open I could stand it no longer, and went into the cabin.  Indeed, during the whole previous operation I had felt like a person intoxicated, or in a state of feverish excitement without the power to think distinctly, and still preserving a sort of capacity for action which sometimes belongs to that condition of mind.

I endeavoured to divert my attention by looking over all those papers which had come sealed from Cefalonia, and had not been opened since Lord Byron had deposited them there.  There were present Captain Hodgson, his father, and Fletcher.  We looked at every paper21 – there was no will, and the persons present signed a document to that effect.

Previously to going into the cabin, I [had] ordered some canvas to be drawn around the quarter-deck, and desired everybody but those of Lord Byron’s household and the undertakers to retire whilst the body was removed.  The cotton in which it was wrapped was soon removed – I preserved a bit of it.  Mr Woodeson came into the cabin, and told me the body was placed in the coffin and asked me if I wished to see it.  I believe I should have dropped down dead if I had ventured to look at it.  He told me, as did the physician, Bruno, that it had almost all the freshness and firmness of life.22

They did not open the chest containing the vases that hold the heart and brains and intestines.  No order arrived from the Custom House for the delivery of the body without inspection, but a fellow came on board and demanded [to] look at the body – after a few words, I gave him leave, on his saying he was Surveyor-General of the Customs, and would facilitate the removal.

The Captain went on shore.  I remained on board.  I continued leaning on the coffin, which I had now covered with a lid and the ship’s flag, and felt an inclination to take a last look at my friend – just as one wishes to jump down a precipice – but I could not – and I walked away, and then I came back again, and rested again on the coffin.

Lord Byron’s large Newfoundland dog23 was lying <quite to my> feet – I wished I was as unconscious of my loss as he was.  A young man24 came on board and prayed hard to see the body.  He did this in such moving terms, and was so much affected, that I could not help promising him a sight of it after the removal to land.  He took up a bit of the cotton in which it has been wrapped and carefully put it in his pocket<book>.

At intervals Fletcher talked to me of his master.  He told me that he had said he loved me better than any man on earth, and yet had never passed twenty-four hours without quarrelling with me.

At last the Captain came with the order from the Custom House, and in half an hour we got the coffin, and chest with the heart &c., on board the barge brought by the undertaker.  The coffin was wrapped in a mat only, and put under [an] awning with a sail to conceal it.  Poor Fletcher said, “What, is there to be no pall?” There were a great many boats around the ship at this time, and the shore was crowded with spectators.  I left the servants on board to take care of the effects, and taking only the papers with me, went on board the barge.  We passed quietly up the river and landed at Palace Yard stairs, at a quarter after five in the afternoon.

I went away to the house hired for the purpose, 20 Great George Street Westminster,25 to see whether it was ready to receive the coffin, but I could not help going back again to witness the safe removal of the body to the native shore of the deceased.  A black cloth was strapped around it, and it was put upon six men’s shoulders, who, without the least remark from anyone, or any crowd being collected, bore it across Palace Yard, to the house in George Street … I walked a little before it, and saw it deposited in the room prepared for its reception.  The room was decently hung with black, but with no decorations except the escutcheon of the Byrons, roughly daubed on a deal board.  I waited till the chest, with the heart &c., was also lodged in the same room, and then went away.

I walked to Albany, and there saw a note from Murray stating that Dr Ireland26 had sent a polite answer, but saying “No” to the proposal for burying in Westminster Abbey … Meeting George Tierney,27 I asked his advice whether an application should be made to Lord Liverpool.28  Tierney said on the whole not, considering that the family wished to bury Lord Byron in the family vault in Nottinghamshire.

I called on Mrs Leigh, and told her what I had done, then asked her commands.  She was for burying in Nottinghamshire – so was Colonel Leigh.  I said the public would expect every respect to be shown to such a man, especially by Mrs Leigh, and we must have the funeral properly attended through the streets.  She told me that Lady Jersey had been the only person who had enquired after her of all Byron’s friends.  Mrs Leigh said she would wish to see the body.  I promised she should, though I dissuaded her – poor creature, she cried bitterly, but said it would be a comfort to her.

I dined at Berkeley Square, and I believe they must have thought me tipsy, for the events of the day actually had raised my spirits and over-excited me.

Went away early, and called on Murray, who showed me Dr Ireland’s letter, which, to my surprise, I found was written to Murray, and desired the Dean’s compliments to me, and that considerations of duty prevented him from acceding to “my request”.  I told Murray that I thought Gifford was to have written to sound the Dean.  I had no conception that Murray had written, still less that he had made a positive request in my name.

Murray said that Gifford would not write,29 and that Kinnaird had come in on Friday and said I had told him to ask Murray to write – accordingly Kinnaird dictated the letter for Murray.

I was much vexed, and told Murray so.  I did not know how to act – the refusal made me uncomfortable.  I wished him to tell the Dean the story.  The next thing to think of was how everything could be properly done for the funeral, in case it should take place in Nottinghamshire.  I called on Kinnaird, and told him what had happened.  Went home and read Blaquière’s MSS memoir sent to Bowring, on the last days of Lord Byron – a very vulgar performance, and which cannot be published as it is.

Tuesday July 6th 1824

A letter from Tom Moore asking me when the funeral is to take place, and whether Hanson intends writing Byron’s life.  Kinnaird called, and told me Moore had engaged with Rees and Longman to write Lord Byron’s life, and had given out that Kinnaird and I were quite satisfied with him and would help him.  I wrote a short notice of the probability of the funeral taking place in Nottinghamshire;30 also a note to Murray begging him to communicate to the Dean of Westminster that I had not made any request for Westminster Abbey.

Went down to Great George Street with Kinnaird – met Hanson and his son there.  Hanson had just been looking at Lord Byron – he told me he should not have known him, except he had looked at his ear and his foot.31  Kinnaird went into the room to look at him.  I followed, and drawn by an irresistible inclination, though I expected to be overcome by it, approached the coffin.  I drew closer by degrees till I caught a view of the face.  It did not bear the slightest resemblance to my dear friend.  The mouth was distorted and half open, showing those teeth, in which, poor fellow, he once so prided himself, quite discoloured by the spirits.  His upper lip was shaded with red mustachios which gave a totally new colour to his face32, his cheeks were long and bagged over the jaw, his nose was quite prominent at the ridge, and sunk in between the eyes, perhaps from the extraction of the brain.  His eyebrows shaggy and lowering.  His forehead, marked with leech-marks probably, his eyelids closed and sunken – I presume the eyeballs having been removed when he was embalmed.  His skin was like dull yellow parchment.  So complete was the change that I was not affected as I thought I should be.  It did not seem to be Byron.  I was not moved so much scarcely as at the sight of his handwriting, or anything that I know to be his.  I did not remark what Hanson told me he had observed in his lifetime, that his left eye was much larger than his right.33

Mrs Leigh had seen the body the same morning.  She afterwards told me that she made exactly the same remark as myself, and34 had not been so affected as she had anticipated.  One effect, however, the sight produced upon me – namely to make me despise existence and think less of the end of it than ever.

I called on Mrs Leigh – settled with her that the <funeral> should take place Monday next, and that he should be buried in the family vault at Hucknall in Nottinghamshire.

I dined in Berkeley Square.

Wednesday July 7th 1824

Went early to Chancery Lane, and swore to an affidavit against the publication of Dallas’ volume of Byron’s letters.  Went next to Spanish Committee,35 gave Bowring Blaquière’s Last Days of Lord Byron, and told him the remarks I had made on it.

Employed in arranging matters at Great George Street.  Dined at George Byng’s.  A young Frenchman,36 going from Havre in the suite of Lafayette to America,37 sent me a note to tell me that he had come all the way from Havre to see the funeral or the remains of Lord Byron.  He called out from Byng’s, and I spoke to him, telling him that the coffin was closed down, which indeed I had ordered it to be this afternoon.  He would scarcely take a refusal, and I was sorry to give it.

Philips the artist38 also applied; but to him I did not wish to show the altered face of Byron – he would have made a sketch of it.  There was a mask taken at Missolonghi39 – but so badly as to be no likeness.  I had thought of taking a mask here, but dropped the intention when I saw the change.

Lord Holland dined at Byng’s – after dinner we had a long conversation on Byron – he told me he considered Byron scarcely sane.  He had an unpublished poem in the Beppo style on Madame de Staël’s visit here in 1814.40  I told him my resolution of not delivering up the letters of Lord Byron’s correspondents without their delivering up his to me – Lord Holland said I was quite right.  Lord Holland spoke about the memoirs.  He owned that Moore had been inadvertent in showing them – he (Lord Holland) had seen them – and thought some of them agreeable enough.

I heard from Mrs Leigh this day that Lady Burghersh41 had not burnt the copy she made of the memoirs until after she heard of Lord Byron’s death – now T. Moore told me she had burnt them before him!!!

Mrs Leigh showed me a long rigmarole from Wilmot Horton to Lord Lansdowne, trying to show the necessity of Tom Moore accepting the money back again from Lord Byron’s relations, together with copies of correspondence, and minutes of conversations, and heaven knows what, in the true official style.42  I desired Mrs Leigh to say no more of the subject for the sake of T. Moore and all the parties.

Before dinner I wrote a note to Mrs Leigh telling her that I should return the £1,000 left to me by Lord Byron to one of her family.

Joseph Hume43 dined at Byng’s – we walked away together, and [he] did his best to persuade me to go out [as] Commissioner for managing the loan to Greece.

Thursday July 8th 1824

Stanhope called, and used every argument to second what Joseph Hume [had] urged last night.  He told me that he knew of no man who could do what I would do in Greece – no man in England – he said I might gain absolute control over the councils, and actually form the government.

I stated my fears and objections,44 and told him unfeignedly that I thought myself unequal to action in such a crisis, and also that it seemed to me absurd to attempt to save or found a state in the holidays, for I must come back by February next.45  However, I promised to think over the proposal, and said if the deputies would put £20,000 at the disposal of the Greek Committee to make an outfit of some artillery &c. to accompany me, I would go.

Stanhope told me one or two things, too true I am sure, about Byron’s last career in Greece.

The Vice-Chancellor has granted an injunction against Dallas’ book.

I walked down to Great George Street to make arrangements, and look over some of my friend’s effects.  He had sixty packages with him of one kind or another.  Walked in the park with Sophy.  Dined in Berkeley Square.

Friday July 9th 1824

Employed on Lord Byron’s affairs.  Dined in Berkeley Square.

Saturday July 10th 1824

Employed as before and dined with family, I believe.

Sunday July 11th 1824

Lord Byron’s coffin lay in state, as it is called, yesterday and the day before.  Immense crowds applied for admittance, but very few persons of any name or note.46  This day no-one <called><to> came except my sisters.  I walked with Sophy.  Woodeson the undertaker told me that Lord Lonsdale47 had sent back an invitation to <attend> send his carriage to the funeral in a black cover.  Now this invitation was misdirected to him instead of Lord Scarsdale,48 a relation of the family.  The meanness of the insult on Lord Lonsdale’s part deserved some notice, but I thought it advisable to keep quiet.

Monday July 12th 1824

Went at ten o’clock with Burdett and Ellice in my father’s carriage to Great George Street, to attend the removal of my dear Byron’s remains as mourner and executor.  There was a vast concourse of people, and about forty-seven carriages, of which a list was given in the papers tolerably correct.  Lord Carlisle and Lord Morpeth sent theirs, and Lord Aberdeen49 – these were the only carriages of persons of not strongly opposition principles.

Moore, Rogers, and Campbell, who had been sent to as mourners, came.  I must say that the two first were very much affected indeed.  The crowd behaved with great propriety, although there was something shocking in the unavoidable noise and tumult attendant on such an assemblage of people.  When the coffin was put into the hearse they pulled off their hats.

Barry O’Meara (of St Helena)50 was impudent enough to intrude himself into the house as a mourner, but was sent out before I came.  Sir Charles Morgan (Lady Morgan’s husband)51 did the same, but was soon convinced of the impr<uden/>opriety of such a step, and had his scarf taken off by the undertaker.  The only paper that gave a correct list of the mourners was the Times, apart perhaps from Globe and Traveller, to whom it had been sent.52

The procession moved off at eleven o’clock, and had come to the stones’ end53 a little after twelve.  The streets and windows were full of people,54 the day being very fine.  George Leigh, Captain Richard Byron,55 Hanson and myself went in the first coach, Burdett, Kinnaird, Bruce, Ellice, Stanhope and Trevanion (one of the family) in the second, Moore, Rogers, Campbell, and Orlando the Deputy, in the last.  I believe this was the arrangement.

We all returned as the funeral left the stones.  On the whole as much honour was done to the deceased as circumstances would admit of.  He was buried like a nobleman, since we could not bury him as a poet.56

I dined with Douglas Kinnaird, and employed myself looking over papers with him, and talking of our friend.

Tuesday July 13th 1824

Employed looking over Byron’s letters and papers.  Walked with one of my sisters.  Dined in Berkeley Square.  Mrs Leigh sent me Byron’s watch as a present.

Wednesday July 14th 1824

Set off in Leicester coach at a little past five in the morning.  Arrived at Leicester about seven in the evening.  Had a violent storm of thunder and lightning in the road – set off in a post chaise for Loughborough, where I slept.

Thursday July 15th 1824

Went to Lord Rancliffe’s57 at Bunny,58 and found what he had promised – a hearty welcome from this kind and excellent man.  He told me his tenants had requested leave to join the funeral procession, and would go <there> headed by his steward.  In the course of the morning a messenger arrived with a request to see me from the Mayor and Corporation of Nottingham, asking leave for the Mayor and a deputation from their body to attend the funeral from Nottingham to Hucknall.  I wrote a handsome answer in the affirmative.

I strolled about Bunny – saw the little school-house which C.S. Matthews and I had remarked in 1809, and the little inn, the Rancliffe Arms, where we had lodged – and had the company of a travelling drawing-master, who surprised us by the account of the many miles he walked to give lessons.  C.S. Matthews and I left Newstead on foot, and walked to London.  Byron came up in his carriage – I recalled his passing us on the road near the hut gate of Newstead Park, and we gave him a huzza.59  I am the survivor of the three – how long I shall be is another matter.

Of the five that often dined at Byron’s table at Diodati near Geneva – Polidori, Shelley, Lord Byron, Scrope Davies and myself – the first put an end to himself, the second was drowned, the third killed by his physicians, the fourth is in exile!!!

I went with Lord Rancliffe to Nottingham – overtook the hearse and coaches on the road.  They were covered with dust.  At Nottingham a crowd expected their arrival.  I ordered some preparations in the Black Boy Inn60 for the coffin lying in state.

Returned to Bunny to dinner – beautiful summer weather.  There dined with us a Dr Attenborough, or some such name,61 a surgeon of Nottingham.  He told me what I never heard before, and what I doubt whether my friend Byron knew, that the village and glen of Papplewick near Newstead was the scene of one of Ben Jonson’s pastoral dramas, in which is the character of Mad Madge of Papplewick;62 also that Mrs Radcliffe63 lived at Nottingham, and probably drew some of her romantic pictures from the old Abbey.

He mentioned that the old Lord, in a rage one day, shot Betty Hardstaffe, a woman who lived with him,64 in the breast – her stays saved her.  When he dismantled Newstead he went to live in a sort of pot-house by the roadside.  He returned to Newstead, but only inhabited a room or two.  He lived on £300 a year, and left nothing to bury him with.65

Friday July 16th 1824

Set out in Lord Rancliffe’s carriage, and with him, for Nottingham to accompany the funeral from that place to Hucknall.66  On arriving at Nottingham, the Black Boy,67 where the coffin &c. lay, found an immense crowd pressing into the room to see the apparatus, and a great throng in the streets.  My friend and Byron’s friend Hodgson, the translator of Juvenal,68 was there, and Colonel Wildman, the owner of Newstead,69 to attend as mourners.  There were placards inviting the people, admirers of that “great and distinguished nobleman and patriot”, &c., to attend the funeral with or without mourning.  There was certainly a great deal of feeling and interest excited on this occasion.

The procession began to move about eleven.  Colonel Wildman was in the first mourning coach, with Hanson and Colonel Leigh70 and me.  The Times newspaper of the following Monday, and the Nottingham Review, contained a tolerably accurate account of the sad ceremony, and of the passing to Hucknall.  We went very slowly, by the longest road to that place, first going seven miles on the Mansfield road,71 and then turning down towards Papplewick72 through the grounds of Mr Fountain Wilson.73  The procession altogether extended about a quarter of a mile.  The coronet74 was carried the whole distance – the view, as it wound through the very romantic villages of Papplewick and Linby,75 and then towards Hucknall, excited sensations in me which I shall never forget.  As we passed under the hill of Annesley76 to our right, crowned with “the peculiar diadem of trees” which, Colonel Wildman reminded me, had been immortalised by Byron in his Dream,77 I called to mind a thousand particulars of my first visit to Newstead,78 when I visited, in company with my friend, Annesley Park and saw his first love and his continued favourite, Mrs Chaworth79 – and now I was following his remains — — [scrawl] — —

We were five hours in the road to Hucknall.  The churchyard and little church of this sequestered village were crowded so thickly that with difficulty we could follow the coffin and up the aisle.  There was something striking in the contrast between the gorgeous approach of the coffin and urn and the coronet and the appearance of this humble church.  After the first part of the service had been read, whilst the coffin rested in the aisle, the coffin was then moved into the chancel – the mourners followed it.  I saw it lowered into the vault of the Byron family.  The remainder of the service was then performed.  I had been so long <fasten> resigned80 to the contemplation of the irreparable loss of my friend, that the seeing him buried was no source of more profound grief to me, but I felt stunned and unable to lament.  I went down into the vault to see where they had laid him.  They told me that his coffin stood upon that of the late Lord,81 and I saw that beside it was the coffin, all mouldered and with the plate scarcely visible, of his mother.82  I wished to have his coffin placed on this, but was told that it would give way; so I left his coffin and the urn where it had been first placed, and ascended from the vault.  Taking one last look at the coffin, I withdrew.

I have since been informed that the church was crowded up to a late hour in the evening, and the vault was not closed till the next morning.  A few days afterwards some thieves broke into Hucknall church and stole the black cloth with which the pulpit was hung.

I returned to Nottingham and Bunny with Lord Rancliffe.  The Corporation of Nottingham offered me the freedom of their town, but I declined to take it up on such an occasion.83

Late Extras

Thursday May 27 1824

Mrs Leigh and I talking over Lord Byron agreed that his principal failing was a wish to mistify those persons with whom he lived, especially if they were in an inferior condition and of inferior intellect to himself – also to make them instruments for indulging any whim of his of the moment – hence his corresponding in such terms with Murray the bookseller – he knew Murray would show his letters about – hence his giving the memoirs to Tom Moore – Mrs Leigh said this was a family failing (B.L. Add.Mss. 56548 97v)

Saturday June 19 1824

Hanson told me afterwards one or two curious anecdotes about Byron – he knew him since nine years of age and has many very early letters of his – Hanson talked to me of Mrs Byron – as a very foolish passionate woman – totally ignorant never reading any thing but a novel or a newspaper – she used to break out into the most violent fits of passion against her son, and then weep over him and stifle him with caresses – at last Hanson thought it necessary to take Byron away from his mother – and place him at school with a Mr Glennie at Dulwich – Hanson owned, however, that Lord Byron was sincerely attached to his mother and lamented her death – Hanson said he was putting together a memoir of his recollections of Lord Byron – which joined with his letters he thought would be highly creditable to Lord Byron – He told me at the same time an instance or two of his love of frolic amounting to teazing – When Byron was a man and in London he used to be followed to Hanson’s door by a drunken woman to whom he gave all the silver in his jacket and who consequently always frequented Hanson’s door to his great annoyance – Byron never appeared there except with the woman in his train – at last Hanson had the woman taken up – but Lord Byron actually took the pains to find out where she was confined and contriving to get her liberated and to quiz brought her again to annoy his friend – Hanson says that in his calvinist youth Lord B. showed signs of being a humourist – It is my opinion that he was peculiarly so – and what is called – very fond of fun – In this way I account for several eccentricities of conduct which I am persuaded arose from his desire to mystify certain people about him – I find that Mr Barry his banker of Genoa has written

Now here is a plain case of mystification which succeeded with the worthy Barry – (B.L. Add.Mss. 56548 106r-107r)

Saturday July 24th 1824

Lady Westmoreland and Lydia White mentioned Polidori cutting his throat as a well-know fact – he was in Charles Butler’s office in Lincoln’s Inn – I thought he had poisoned himself (ref missing)

Monday August 30 1824

Had a meeting with Hanson at Chancery Lane and concluded the settlement of Lord Byron’s affairs as far as regarded his servants and suits – we thought it right to give Count Gamba £300.  The count told me he had some thoughts of writing a memoir of Lord Byron’s fatal expedition to Greece – but that he would not do it without my leave – I told him he had better do it – and I would translate his memoir for him and apply to Murray to publish it – I lent him some materials from Lord B’s papers – that is his correspondence addressed to him from Greek government and others whilst in the Levant I have seen a letter of his addressed to Mrs Leigh containing an account of Lord Byron’s last illness – very well done indeed and all I have heard or seen of him encourages me to think he will do justice to this sad subject (B.L. Add.Mss. 56549 41r-v)

Saturday November 20 1824

Petre brought me some more of his translation of Gamba’s narrative which he is assisting me to get through (B.L. Add.Mss. 56549 67r)

Monday December 20 1824

I think this day I found a note of Lord Byron’s on Southey when he (B) consented to cancel the dedication to Don Juan attacking Southey vehemently – This was done at my request – I resolved to append the note to my article in the Westminster Review (B.L. Add.Mss. 56549 73r)

Saturday January 29 1825

Rode to London – went to Hanson’s and with him to London docks to look over some goods of Byrons came from Genoa – found nine snuff boxes and a watch which I intend to apply for to have duty free – also five boxes of books – his library – poor fellow (B.L. Add.Mss. 56549 81r)

Sunday June 5 1825

Lion, Lord Byron’s newfoundland dog that accompanied him to Greece and was given to me by Mrs Leigh died at Whitton some day this last week – He had been long ill – and at last broke a blood vessel – poor fellow he is to be buried under the willow-tree near the water at Whitton – (B.L. Add.Mss. 56549 131r)