Biography & Autobiography
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Chapter 22 ( Washington Irving--Ugo Foscolo--Lady Caroline Lamb--"Hajji Baba"--Mrs. Markham's Histories.) Pg 48

 

Ugo Foscolo, Who Was Eccentric To An Excess, And Very Extravagant, Had

Many Attached Friends, Though He Tried Them Sorely. To Mr. Murray He

Became One Of The Troubles Of Private As Well As Publishing Life. He Had

A Mania For Building, And A Mania For Ornamentation, But He Was Very

Short Of Money For Carrying Out His Freaks. He Thought Himself At The

Same Time To Be Perfectly Moderate, Simple, And Sweet-Tempered. He Took

A House In South Bank, Regent's Park, Which He Named Digamma

Cottage--From His Having Contributed To The _Quarterly Review_ An

Article On The Digamma--And Fitted It Up In Extravagant Style.

 

 

 

Foscolo Could Scarcely Live At Peace With Anybody, And, As The Result Of

One Of His Numerous Altercations, He Had To Fight A Duel. "We Are," Lady

Dacre Wrote To Murray (December 1823), "To Have The Whole Of Foscolo's

Duel To-Morrow. He Tells Me That It Is Not About A 'Fair Lady': Thank

Heaven!"

 

 

 

Foscolo Was One Of Mr. Murray's Inveterate Correspondents--About

Lectures, About Translations, About Buildings, About Debts, About Loans,

And About Borrowings. On One Occasion Mr. Murray Received From Him A

Letter Of Thirteen Pages Quarto. A Few Sentences Of This May Be Worth

Quoting:

 

 

 

_Mr. Foscolo To John Murray_.

 

 

 

South Bank, _August_ 20, 1822.

 

 

 

"During Six Years (For I Landed In England The 10th September, 1816) I

Have Constantly Laboured Under Difficulties The Most Distressing; No One

Knows Them So Well As Yourself, Because No One Came To My Assistance

With So Warm A Friendship Or With Cares So Constant And Delicate. My

Difficulties Have Become More Perplexing Since The Government Both Of

The Ionian Islands And Italy Have Precluded Even The Possibility Of My

Returning To The Countries Where A Slender Income Would Be Sufficient,

And Where I Would Not Be Under The Necessity Of Making A Degrading Use

Of My Faculties. I Was Born A Racehorse; And After Near Forty Years Of

Successful Racing, I Am Now Drawing The Waggon--Nay, To Be The Teacher

Of French To My Copyists, And The Critic Of English To My

Translators!-To Write Sophistry About Criticism, Which I Always

Considered A Sort Of Literary Quackery, And To Put Together Paltry

Articles For Works Which I Never Read. Indeed, If I Have Not Undergone

The Doom Of Almost All Individuals Whose Situation Becomes Suddenly

Opposed To Their Feelings And Habits, And If I Am Not Yet A Lunatic, I

Must Thank The Mechanical Strength Of My Nerves. My Nerves, However

Chapter 22 ( Washington Irving--Ugo Foscolo--Lady Caroline Lamb--"Hajji Baba"--Mrs. Markham's Histories.) Pg 49

Will Not Withstand The Threatenings Of Shame Which I Have Always

Contemplated With Terror. Time And Fortune Have Taught Me To Meet All

Other Evils With Fortitude; But I Grow Every Day More And More A Coward

At The Idea Of The Approach Of A Stigma On My Character; And As Now I

Must Live And Die In England, And Get The Greater Part Of My Subsistence

From My Labour, I Ought To Reconcile, If Not Labour With Literary

Reputation, At Least Labour And Life With A Spotless Name."

 

 

 

He Then Goes On To State That His Debts Amount To L600 Or Thereabouts,

Including A Sum Of L20 Which He Owed To Mr. Murray Himself. Then He Must

Have The Money Necessary For His Subsistence, And He "Finds He Cannot

Live On Less Than L400 Per Annum."

 

 

 

"My Apartments," He Continues, "Decently Furnished, Encompass Me With An

Atmosphere Of Ease And Respectability; And I Enjoy The Illusion Of Not

Having Fallen Into The Lowest Circumstances.

 

 

 

I Always Declare That I Will Die Like A Gentleman, On A Decent Bed,

Surrounded By Casts (As I Cannot Buy The Marbles) Of The Venuses, Of The

Apollos, And Of The Graces, And The Busts Of Great Men; Nay, Even Among

Flowers, And, If Possible, With Some Graceful Innocent Girl Playing An

Old Pianoforte In An Adjoining Room. And Thus Dies The Hero Of My Novel.

Far From Courting The Sympathy Of Mankind, I Would Rather Be Forgotten

By Posterity Than Give It The Gratification Of Ejaculating Preposterous

Sighs Because I Died Like Camoens And Tasso On The Bed Of An Hospital.

And Since I Must Be Buried In Your Country, I Am Happy In Having Insured

For Me The Possession During The Remains Of My Life Of A Cottage Built

After My Plan, Surrounded By Flowering Shrubs, Almost Within The

Tumpikes Of The Town, And Yet As Quiet As A Country-House, And Open To

The Free Air. Whenever I Can Freely Dispose Of A Hundred Pounds, I Will

Also Build A Small Dwelling For My Corpse, Under A Beautiful Oriental

Plane-Tree, Which I Mean To Plant Next November, And Cultivate _Con

Amore_. So Far I Am Indeed An Epicure; In All Other Things I Am The Most

Moderate Of Men."

 

 

 

The Upshot Of The Letter Is, That He Wishes Mr. Murray To Let Him Have

L1,000, To Be Repaid In Five Years, He Meanwhile Writing Articles For

The _Quarterly_--One-Half Of The Payment To Be Left With The Publisher,

And The Remaining Half To Be Added To His Personal Income. He Concludes:

 

 

 

"In Seeking Out A Way Of Salvation, I Think It Incumbent On Me To

Prevent The Tyranny Of Necessity, That I Might Not Be Compelled By It To

Endanger My Character And The Interest Of A Friend Whose Kindness I Have

Always Experienced, And Whose Assistance I Am Once More Obliged To

Chapter 22 ( Washington Irving--Ugo Foscolo--Lady Caroline Lamb--"Hajji Baba"--Mrs. Markham's Histories.) Pg 50

Solicit."

 

 

 

Mr. Murray Paid Off Some Of His More Pressing Embarrassments--L30 To

Messrs. Bentley For Bills Not Taken Up; L33 7_S_. To Mr. Kelly The

Printer; L14 To Mr. Antonini; And L50 To Foscolo's Builder--Besides

Becoming Security For L300 To His Bankers (With Whom Foscolo Did

Business), In Order To Ensure Him A Respite For Six Months. On The Other

Hand, Foscolo Agreed To Insure His Life For L600 As A Sort Of Guarantee.

"Was Ever" Impecunious Author "So Trusted Before"? At This Crisis In His

Affairs Many Friends Came About Him And Took An Interest In The Patriot;

Mr. Hallam And Mr. Wilbraham Offered Him Money, But He Would Not Accept

"Gratuities" From Them, Though He Had No Objection To Accepting Their

"Loans." Arrangements Were Then Made For Foscolo To Deliver A Series Of

Lectures On Italian Literature. Everything Was Settled, The Day

Arrived, The Room Was Crowded With A Distinguished Assembly, When At The

Last Moment Foscolo Appeared Without His Ms., Which He Had Forgotten.

 

 

 

The Course Of Lectures, However, Which Had Been Designed To Relieve Him

From The Pressure Of His Debts, Proved Successful, And Brought Him In,

It Is Said, As Much As L1,000; Whereupon He Immediately Set To Work To

Squander His Earnings By Giving A Public Breakfast To His Patrons, For

Which Purpose He Thought It Incumbent On Him, Amongst Other Expenses, To

Make A New Approach And A Gravelled Carriage Road To Digamma Cottage.

 

 

 

Ugo Foscolo Lived On Credit To The End Of His Life, Surrounded By All

That Was Luxurious And Beautiful. How He Contrived It, No One Knew, For

His Resources Remained At The Lowest Ebb. Perhaps His Friends Helped

Him, For English Liberals Of Good Means Regarded Him As A Martyr In The

Cause Of Freedom, One Who Would Never Bow The Knee To Baal, And Who Had

Dared The First Napoleon When His Very Word Was Law. But Foscolo's

Friends Without Doubt Became Tired Of His Extravagance And His

Licentious Habits, And Fell Away From Him. Disease At Last Found Him

Out; He Died Of Dropsy At Turnham Green, Near Hammersmith, In 1827, When

Only In The Fiftieth Year Of His Age, And Was Buried In Chiswick

Churchyard; But In June 1871 His Body Was Exhumed And Conveyed To

Florence, Where He Was Buried In Santa Croce, Between The Tomb Of

Alfieri And The Monument Of Dante.

 

 

 

Lady Caroline Lamb Had Continued To Keep Up Her Intimacy With Mr.

Murray; And Now That She Was Preparing A New Work For The Press, Her

Correspondence Increased. While He Was At Wimbledon During Summer, She

Occasionally Met Literary Friends At His House. She Had Already

Published "Glenarvon," The Hero Of Which Was Supposed To Represent Lord

Byron, And Was Now Ready With "Penruddock." "I Am In Great Anxiety," She

Wrote To Mr. Murray, "About Your Not Informing Me What Gifford Says. I

Think It Might Be A Civil Way Of Giving Me My Death-Warrant--If

Chapter 22 ( Washington Irving--Ugo Foscolo--Lady Caroline Lamb--"Hajji Baba"--Mrs. Markham's Histories.) Pg 51

'Penruddock' Does Not."

 

 

 

Whether The Criticism Of Mr. Gifford Was Too Severe, Or Whether Mr.

Murray Was So Much Engaged In Business And Correspondence As To Take No

Notice Of Lady Caroline Lamb's Communication, Does Not Appear; But She

Felt The Neglect, And Immediately Followed It Up With Another Letter As

Follows:

 

 

 

_Lady Caroline Lamb To John Murray_.

 

 

 

_December 8, 1822_.

 

 

 

My Dear And Most Obstinately Silent Sir,

 

 

 

From One Until Nine Upon Tuesday I Shall Be At Melbourne House Waiting

For You; But If You Wish To See The Prettiest Woman In England,--Besides

Myself And William--Be At Melbourne House At Quarter To Six, At Which

Hour We Dine; And If You Will Come At Half-Past One, Or Two, Or Three,

To Say You Will Dine And To Ask Me To Forgive Your Inexorable And

Inhuman Conduct, Pray Do, For I Arrive At Twelve In That Said Home And

Leave It At Nine The Ensuing Morning. What Can Have Happened To You That

You Will Not Write?

 

 

 

The Following Letter From William Lamb (Afterwards Lord Melbourne), The

Long-Suffering And Generous Husband Of This Wayward Lady, Refers To A

Novel Entitled "Ada Reis."

 

 

 

_The Honble. William Lamb To John Murray_.

 

 

 

_December 20, 1822_.

 

 

 

"The Incongruity Of, And Objections To, The Story Of 'Ada Reis' Can Only

Be Got Over By Power Of Writing, Beauty Of Sentiment, Striking And

Effective Situation, Etc. If Mr. Gifford Thinks There Is In The First

Two Volumes Anything Of Excellence Sufficient To Overbalance Their

Manifest Faults, I Still Hope That He Will Press Upon Lady Caroline The

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