Samuel Rogers and his Contemporaries
Chapter IV. 1838-41.
CHAPTER IV.
1838-41.
Rogers an Old Man—His active
Habits—Carlyle on
Rogers—Rogers’s Criticism of
Emerson—Mr. F. Goodall’s
Recollections of Rogers—Ticknor’s
Visits to St. James’s Place—Sir H. Taylor, Miss
Jervis, and the Duke—Letter from
Ticknor—Rogers at Broadstairs—Appeals to
Lord Melbourne and Lord Holland for
Cary—Charles Sumner on
Rogers—Miss
Edgeworth—Lord
Wellesley—Archbishop
Trench—Daniel Webster—Mrs.
Butler—Sydney Smith—Blanco
White—Charles
Dickens—Haydon—W. H.
Prescott—Daniel Webster’s
Letters—Ticknor’s Letters—Charles
Mackay—Macready—Crabb
Robinson—Letter from Dickens—Death of
Lord Holland—Moore and
Rogers at Bowood—Macready’s
‘Reminiscences’—Rogers
in Paris—E. Quillinan on Sir T.
More’s House—Rogers and
Macaulay at Bowood—Rogers and
Mrs. Butler.
Rogers had now become an old man, and it is not the least remarkable thing in his long
life that his old age was one of its busiest and most useful periods. He was seventy-five
on the 30th of July, 1838, and active as he was, he had so much appearance of age that
nobody guessed him a moment younger. Yet at that time he had nearly eighteen years and a
half to live; twelve of them busy years—years full of an old man’s
enjoyments—
And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends. |
It was the ‘old age serene and bright,’ which his friend Wordsworth anticipated for the young lady who had 162 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
been reproached for taking long walks in the country. He already, in
1838, spoke of himself as at the end of his course, and though he told Moore he really could not say that he had any ailment, he
was frail-looking rather than strong. He used the flesh brush as old Richard Cumberland had taught him; and kept up, as far as
possible, his active habits. ‘Rogers and I,’ says
Moore, ‘do not trouble chairs much.’ He walked
a good deal, and was not afraid of a flight of steps. For years it was remarked of him that
he was to be seen walking home late at night from evening parties, looking so old and frail
that nobody wondered when his active career was finally closed by his being knocked down in
the street. In November, 1838, he was in Paris, and had chosen a lodging at the top of a
flight of a hundred and twenty stairs. Moore puts this on record as
characteristic of Rogers, whose system was, in
Moore’s words, ‘to keep the physique for ever in
play; if ever you once give it up, he thinks it is all over.’ The plan
answered for thirteen years longer.
So it came to pass that for twenty years at least of his active life in
London society, people spoke of Rogers as an old
man. Carlyle always calls him ‘old
Rogers.’ Writing to Emerson in June, 1838, to tell him of the reception his ‘Orations’ had met with in England,
he says, ‘Old Rogers, a grim old dilettante, full of sardonic
sense, was heard to say, “It is German poetry, given out in American
prose.”’ In another letter he speaks of ‘old
Rogers with his pale head, white, bare, and cold as
snow,’ and tells Emerson he ‘will work on you with
those large blue eyes, cruel, sorrowful, and that sardonic
| MR. F. GOODALL’S RECOLLECTIONS | 163 |
shelf chin.’ It is a
caricature, yet with a certain life-like look which makes it worth quoting. The
“sardonic chin” may be compared with the description a friend of Cyrus Redding’s gave of Rogers
as having ‘an epigrammatic mouth—a mouth characterised by a contractile
quality; the power of a sort of pincer’s squeeze lurks about it.’ Yet
there was a charm in his manner when he was in genial mood which all his visitors confess.
He was ‘cold as snow’ to unsympathising people, and would naturally seem so to
Carlyle, who was his opposite in every respect. But there are many
men now living who knew Rogers well, whose testimony is that he was
all kindness and geniality whenever they saw him. Mr. Frederick
Goodall, R.A., has lately given to an interviewer some of his reminiscences.
He says of Rogers—
‘One of the most fascinating men to me was old Samuel Rogers, the poet. When I was only sixteen he
invited me to one of his famous breakfasts. My father was then engraving the plates for
Rogers’s “Italy,”1 and the poet,
having seen some of my early work, had asked my father to bring me. I can see it all
now: the famous old man coming forward, and taking me by both hands, and his kindly
words, “You are at the beginning of the race, my lad, and I am at the end of
the course!” And I remember him turning to his butler, who used to show
the collection of pictures to visitors, and saying, “Let this young gentleman
have the run of the house;
1 This is a slip of memory on Mr. Goodall’s part. The plates had
been engraved and the Italy published eight years before this,
which must have been in 1838. |
164 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
let him see the pictures whenever he likes.” After
that first visit, which made a great impression on me, I used to be often invited to
his breakfasts, and dear old Samuel Rogers remained my very good
friend to the day of his death.’
There are three contemporary accounts of him in this year, 1838: one by
George Ticknor, the American author, the next by
Sir Henry Taylor, and the third by Charles Sumner, the American statesman.
Ticknor writes in his Diary—
‘March 25th,
1838.—After we came home (from church), Senior came in, and was as lively, spirited, and active as ever, and
full of projects for our convenience and pleasure. Rogers followed him, and talked, in his quiet way, about all sorts of
things and people, showing, sometimes, a little sub-acid. It has always been said he
will leave memoirs behind him. I hope he will, for who can write anything of the sort
that would be so amusing?’
Two months later he says—
‘May 27th, 1838
(Sunday).—In the afternoon we had a very long and
agreeable visit from Rogers, who showed great
sensibility when speaking of his last visit to Scott, which he said he was obliged to shorten, in order to keep an
appointment with other friends, and then added, as if the thought had just rushed upon
him, and filled his eyes with tears, “and they, too, are dead.” It was some
time before he could command himself enough to speak again.’
|
GEORGE TICKNOR ON ROGERS
|
165 |
‘May 31st,
1838.—We breakfasted, by very especial invitation, with Rogers, in order to look over his pictures,
curiosities, &c.; and, therefore, nobody was invited to meet us but Miss Rogers and the Milmans. We had a three hours’ visit of it, from ten till past
one, and saw certainly a great amount of curious things; not only the pictures, but
drawings, autographs, little antiques; in short, whatever should belong to such a piece
of bijouterie and virtù as
Rogers himself is. Nor was agreeable conversation wanting, for
he is full of anecdotes of his sixty or seventy years’ experience. Among other
things he told me that Crabbe was nearly ruined
by grief and vexation at the conduct of his wife
for above seven years, at the end of which time she proved to be insane.
‘June 3rd.—We
began the day with a breakfast at Miss
Rogers’s in her nice house on Regent’s Park, which is a sort
of imitation—and not a bad one either—of her brother’s on St.
James’s . . . she keeps autographs, curiosities, and objects of virtù, just like her brother. Best of all, she is kind and good
humoured, and had invited very pleasant friends to meet us—Leslie, Babbage, Mackintosh, and her
brother, who was extraordinarily agreeable and made us stay unreasonably
late.’
Sir H. Taylor, writing to Miss Fenwick on the 3rd of August, 1838, says—
‘I have been . . . at two very small evening parties at
Rogers’s—only about fifteen
persons. He is much oldened these last six months, having been very ill in the winter,
and he has no longer the same vivacity of
166 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
look that he had, nor
the same appearance of vigour. He talked very little, and was almost entirely occupied
with the singing of his pet, Miss Jervis. But it
was perhaps more interesting to see him with her, and her ways with him, than it would
have been to hear him talk. To all appearance she is a gay, wild, vivacious girl, who
cares for nobody and gives full scope to that unmodified naturalness of manner which,
in society, amounts to a very considerable degree of eccentricity. This makes some
people say that she is half mad, and others that she is as bold as a lion. But
Miss Montague, who has seen a good deal of her, tells me that
she finds her very rational, and Rogers assures me that she is in
reality extremely timid. . . . When she sat down to sing I thought there could not be a
more formidable thing for a girl of three or four and twenty to undertake—a small
room, and a small audience, and a dead silence; the Duke planted before the piano, Sir Robert
Peel, Lord Aberdeen, and others, the
gravest of men and statesmen, stopped short in their conversations; and old
Rogers, well known to be at all times in agonies of anxiety as
to everything going off well in his house. One might have been
in a little agony oneself for her if her face did not put one at
ease. But she began without a shade of anxiety for herself, sang the first verse of her
song and then looked brightly over to the Duke and said, “Do you like
that?” and afterwards, when someone made her sing a song which she did
not like herself, she seemed to have no difficulty in doing it, only saying,
“Now, Duke, you had better talk whilst I am singing
this.”’1
1 Correspondence of Sir Henry
Taylor, p. 92.
|
|
AMERICANS AT ST. JAMES’S PLACE
|
167 |
Mr. Sumner, in writing to his friend George Hilliard, in December says: ‘A friend told me
yesterday what Rogers said the other day to him:
“The Americans I have seen have generally been very agreeable and accomplished
men, but there is too much of them; they take up too much of our time.” This
was delivered with the greatest gentleness.’1
This was Rogers’s own
experience for thirty years. Every prominent American went to his house, was kindly
entertained, and went home to praise him and to give introductions to him to his friends.
There are piles of letters from such persons, many of them full of the warmest expressions
of gratitude and admiration. But his youthful recollections of the struggle for American
independence, of his father’s good wishes for its success, of Dr. Priestley’s going forth from
Rogers’s own house to his American exile, of other friends
who had found refuge on American soil, made Rogers more than usually
friendly to Americans who came to see him. He was, moreover, gratified to find that the
admiration for his poetry which they uniformly expressed, existed and continued among a
nation who, as he believed, stood in a relation to us such as that of posterity. Sumner continues (he is writing from the
Athenæum)—
‘Bulwer was here a few
moments ago in his flash falsetto dress, with high heel boots, a white great coat, and
a flaming blue cravat. How different from Rogers, who is sitting near me reading the “North American,” or Hallam, who is lolling in an easy chair.2 . .
.
‘Lady Morgan . . . had
particularly invited me to
168 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
her party on this evening—“Promise me that you
will come on Sunday night and I will have all the literary characters of London. I
will trot them all out for your benefit.” Accordingly, there were
Sam Rogers—just returned with renewed
youth from Paris—Kenyon, Hayward, Courtenay (the M.P. and great London epicure), and his beautiful
daughter, West-Young, the retired actor, Young (Ubiquity), Mr. and Mrs. Yates,
Quin, and Mrs.
Shelley.’
Mr. Ticknor writes—
‘Boston (U.S.A.): 20th Nov., 1838.
‘My dear Sir,—You have always taken a kind notice
of American literature, and this induces me to send you a dramatic poem by
Miss Park; a lady something more than
thirty years old, who lives at Worcester, about forty miles from us. I have not
the honour to know her personally; but whatever I have heard is singularly
creditable to her, so that I think you will not on any account be sorry to add
her little poem to your collection of American books. I pray you, therefore, to
accept it. At any rate, if it serves for nothing else, it may serve to remind
you of your kindness to Mrs. Ticknor and
myself, and, on our part, may be a little token to you that we are grateful for
it, and shall always remember it.
‘We arrived at home very safely last July, and I cannot
tell you how much we have been struck with the progress everything made during
our three years’ absence. Nothing, perhaps, is advanced and advancing so
much
| AMERICAN WRITERS: CANADIAN TROUBLES | 169 |
as
education—or, rather, I ought to say as the demand for it; for the demand
of the publick is much in advance of its present condition. In New England,
especially, great efforts are making. We have, too, some fruits to show.
Bowditch, the mathematician,
Prescott, the author of “Ferdinand and
Isabella,” Norton, who has
just published a book of much beauty and learning “On the Genuineness of the
Gospels,” Channing, and
perhaps one or two more, all from this little town, have printed recently what
will not soon be forgotten. You will be pleased to hear that
Prescott’s “Ferdinand
and Isabella,” first published last January, is already going
through the fifth edition, and that Dr. Channing is
preparing a book containing his views of Society and Government. This last I
shall take the liberty to send you as soon as it appears, remembering what you
said to me of its author.
‘We are sorry for the troubles in Canada. Nobody, but a
few adventurers, chiefly foreigners, wishes to assist the insurgents; and
nobody wishes to have the Canadas added to the United States, least of all
those who, for private adventure, would create disturbances there. But we all
think your own possession of it must hereafter be an unhappy one, dependent
merely on the military force you shall keep there. Wounds of deadliest hate
have pierced too deep into the different races and factions there, to permit
the hope of a true reconcilement. Nor can I see anything in the future
prospects of the Canadians but contests, troubles, and suffering, whether
united to England or separated from it. Their disease is within themselves.
170 |
ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES
|
|
‘But I did not think to write you a letter, nor do I
look for an answer to it. I only wished to send you the little volume that
accompanies it, and thank you for the kindness you showed Mrs. Ticknor and myself when we were in
England. Please to remember us to Miss
Rogers, with our thanks to her also,
‘Very faithfully yours,
‘If I can be useful to you or to any of your
friends, you can always command whatever I can do, by sending to me through
Baring Brothers & Co., my London bankers.
‘G. T.’
A domestic letter gives an account of himself.
‘Broadstairs: 11th Sept., 1838.
‘My dear Sarah,—I left home on Saturday and making the usual stages
arrived here yesterday and am now as quietly established with Maltby, in the old room, as if we had never
left it. Your letter I received as I drove from the door, the postman throwing
it in at the carriage window, and I rejoice to think you have done so well, wet
and cold as the weather has been. From Cashiobury I went with a little interval
to Holland House where I caught a cruel cold, which is not gone and has so
dismayed me that I have given up everything beyond Paris.
William thinks of coming here for a few days before I
go, but has not yet decided between Paris and Liverpool. I think he will go to
Liverpool. Lady Cork
| THE TRANSLATOR OF DANTE | 171 |
dined at Holland House on the
27th, and on September 5 with me, and on Friday I had a family party of
Sharpes, Towgoods and
Miss Slater. . . . So Mrs.
Charles Kemble is dead and Mrs. Sturch. My
present scheme is to set off for Paris in about a fortnight, and a letter
afterwards to the P. O. will find me there. The Websters
have been staying in Lady Mary’s apartments in
Windsor Castle. The Hollands set off on the
5th as you say; Sir Stephen and Allen with them in the first carriage.
Travelling post, they slept at Rochester and Canterbury, and a Government
packet, price twenty-five guineas, met them at Dover. Pray give my love to
Margaret and tell her I have not forgot my promises.
‘Yours ever,
‘S. R.’
Rogers was at this time attempting to get a pension
for Cary, the translator of Dante. He had called the attention of Wordsworth to the translation. Wordsworth admired it greatly, as
Rogers did, and considered it a great national work.
Wordsworth showed it to Coleridge, and Coleridge at once spoke of it in high
terms in one of his lectures. But it was little known till attention was called to it by an
article in ‘The Edinburgh Review,’ which was written by Foscolo with some assistance from
Rogers and Mackintosh.
Cary had been for some years assistant librarian at the British
Museum, when, in 1837, the chief librarian, Mr.
Baber, resigned. Rogers at once wrote to the Archbishop of Canterbury urging that
Cary should be appointed. The Archbishop in reply told
Rogers that Cary had suffered from temporary
alienation of mind, a fact which Rogers knew but had forgotten.
172 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
He at once agreed that Cary was not fit for the
post, and hinted so to Cary himself, who was so deeply offended that
he never forgave it. The appointment was given to Panizzi, who had been introduced to Rogers by a letter
from William Roscoe. Cary at
once resigned, and his conduct caused some annoyance to Lord
Holland and others. The Trustees of the Museum recommended him for a
pension, and Rogers backed up the application by a letter to Lord Melbourne.
‘Dear Lord
Melbourne,—Pray forgive me for breaking in upon you when you
must have so much to do. You have received a representation from the Trustees
of the British Museum (Lord Aberdeen has
just written to inform me of it) in favour of Mr.
Cary, and I am sure you mean to do something. But at his age
every month is a loss, and the time will come, for, I know enough of you to
know it—when you will be sorry to have overlooked him. With his translation of Dante you cannot
be unacquainted, and perhaps you have looked into his translation of Pindar.
‘Of his genius and his learning there can be no doubt. I
can speak from long knowledge of his other merits—for long have I
experienced his friendship, though for some time in poverty and in spleen he
has withdrawn himself from me.
‘But perhaps you have done it already; and if so, I envy
you.
‘Yours truly,
‘S. R.
‘15th August, 1838.’
|
APPEAL FOR CARY’S PENSION
|
173 |
For the present the appeal was ineffectual, and Lord Holland, having told Rogers of
the feeling against Cary, Rogers
replied—
‘My dear Lord
Holland,—The more I reflect on it, the more I am convinced
it could not be; for a gentler, meeker spirit does not exist than Cary’s. He may write with warmth under a
wrong impression—he may turn, when he thinks himself trodden
upon—but, if ever I knew a man, and I have known Cary in all weathers, he
cannot be what you say he was thought to be—insolent. His case is a very
cruel one. He laboured long in a subordinate place; and, when a vacancy
occurred, an under servant was put over his head. The measure was perhaps a
just one—I cannot say it was not—but the reason could not be
explained to him, though it was a reason to create an interest in every
generous mind, and he gave in his resignation.
‘Well, there he was—a man of great merit, great
learning and genius—such the cruelty of his case that the Trustees of the
Museum went out of their way, opposite as most of them were to him in political
sentiments, and recommended him as a proper object of bounty to the
government—yet nothing has been done!
‘Was the Pension List Committee averse to such pensions? Quite otherwise,
as I am assured by Lord John Russell.
‘But he has written a sonnet. What had not Montgomery done, when Sir Robert Peel gave him what he did? If
Dryden and Johnson were still alive and pouring forth
toryism or bigotry, would not I serve them, if I
174 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
could?
Cary has now withdrawn his friendship
from me. He thinks I was his enemy in this matter, but that shall not make me
less anxious to render him any service in my power. But power I have none.
‘Yours ever,
‘S. R.
‘Christmas Day, 1838.
‘He is now slaving for the booksellers.’
Nothing was done for a couple of years, and Rogers continued to plead. At length Lord
Melbourne sent word there was a hundred a year to dispose of, and Cary should have it. That was after the defeat of
Lord Melbourne’s government at the elections in 1841.
Rogers sent word back that he would not mention such a sum to
Cary but would wait and ask Sir Robert
Peel for a larger amount. Lord Melbourne then said
Cary should have 200l., and
Cary told Rogers he was better pleased with
it than with double the sum from Peel.
What Rogers was at this period of
the very ripeness of his fame and of his social influence is shown in the Diary and Letters of Charles Sumner, who
spent this winter in London. He writes in his Diary—
‘January 16th,
1839.—This London is socially a bewitching place. Last evening I first dined with
Booth, a Chancery barrister; then went to Rogers’s,
where was a small party: Mrs. Marcet, Mrs. Austin, Miss
Martineau, Mr. and Mrs. Lyell, Mr.
and Mrs. Wedgewood, Harness, and Milman. We talked
and drank tea, and looked at the beautiful pictures, the original editions of Milton and
| CHARLES SUMNER ON ROGERS | 175 |
Spenser, and listened to the old man eloquent (I
say eloquent indeed), and so the time passed.’
He writes to his correspondent G. S.
Hilliard on the 23rd of January—
‘I believe I have often written you about Rogers. Of course, I have seen him frequently in
society, never did I like him till I enjoyed his kindness at breakfast. As a converser
Rogers is unique. The world, or report, has not given him
credit enough for his great and peculiar powers in this line. He is terse,
epigrammatic, dry, infinitely to the point, full of wisdom, of sarcasm, and cold
humour. He says the most ill-natured things, and does the best. He came up to me at
Miss Martineau’s, where there was a
little party of very clever people, and said, “Mr. Sumner, it is a great piece of benevolence in you to come
here.” Determined not to be drawn into a slur upon my host, I replied:
“Yes, Mr. Rogers, of benevolence to
myself.” As we were coming away, Rogers, Harness, Babbage, and myself were walking together down the narrow street in
which Miss M. lives, when the poet said, “Who but the
Martineau could have drawn us into such a hole?”
And yet I doubt not he has a sincere liking for Miss M., for I
have met her at his house, and he afterwards spoke of her with the greatest kindness.
His various sayings that are reported about town, and his conversation as I caught it
at evening parties, had impressed me with a great admiration of his powers, but with a
positive dislike. I love frankness and truth. But his society at breakfast has almost
1 Life of Sumner, vol. ii.,
p. 41. |
176 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
obliterated my first impressions. We were alone, and he showed
all those wonderful paintings, and we talked till far into the afternoon. I have seldom
enjoyed myself more; it was a luxury, in such rooms, to listen to such a man, before
whom the society of the last quarter of a century had all passed—he alone
unchanged; to talk, with such a poet, of poetry and poets, of Wordsworth, and Southey, and Scott; and to hear his
opinions, which were given with a childlike simplicity and frankness. I must confess
his great kindness to me. He asked my acceptance of the new edition of his poems, and
said, “I shall be happy to see any friend of yours, morning, noon, or
night;” and all his kindness was purely volunteer, for my acquaintance
with him grew from simply meeting him in society. He inquired after Mrs. Newton with most friendly interest, and showed me
a little present he had received from her, which he seemed to prize much. I shall write
to her to let her know the good friends she has left behind.
Rogers is a friend of Wordsworth, but
thinks he has written too much, and without sufficient limæ
labor. He says it takes him ten times as long to write a sentence of prose as
it does Wordsworth one of poetry; and in illustration, he showed
me a thought in Wordsworth’s last work—dedicated to
Rogers—on the saying of the monk who had sat before the beautiful pictures so
long, and seen so many changes, that he felt tempted to say, “We are the shadows,
and they the substance.”1 This same story you will find
in a note to the “Italy.”
Rogers wrote his note ten times over before he was 1 Yarrow Revisited, and other
Poems, 1835. |
| THE DUCHESS OF SUTHERLAND | 177 |
satisfied with it;
Wordsworth’s verse was published almost as it first left
his pen. Look at the two.’
A few letters and notices which may be strung together in chronological
order keep Rogers in sight through another year. The
first is a pathetic note from an old friend who died eight days after it was written—
‘Monday, 21st [Jan.], 1839.
‘My dear Mr.
Rogers,—I must at last submit to the mortification of
sending my excuse to you for to-day, which I have too long delayed, and to
which I looked forward with the pleasure anticipated by a long confinement; but
since I saw you, I have been quite confined by an unaccountable sickness and
fits of nausea, that come on incessantly, and plague both Sir H.
H. and myself, as he will tell you. I do not know what my
disorder is—I know I may as well die of that as of anything else, but I
still hope to have the pleasure of seeing you first.
‘Ever most truly yours,
Here is a glimpse of an interesting person who was in London in the
winter. It is in reference to a question which had arisen in conversation.
‘My dear Miss
Edgeworth,—Not relying on myself, I have put the question,
as far as I could, to the London
178 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
world; and the votes are
one and all, as you knew they would be, for
‘Are you to learn of us, you who have taught us all how
to speak and how to write? And are we never to. see you here again? If you
don’t come soon I shall not be to be found; but wherever I am, in this
world or another, I hope I shall never forget your kindness.
‘Your affectionate Friend,
‘2nd March, 1839.’
Sir Henry Taylor writes on the 9th of April—
‘Dined with Rogers; the company were Colonel and Lady Mary Fox,
Mr. and Madame Van de
Weyer, Mr. and Mrs. Brinsley Sheridan, Lady
Seymour, Mrs. Norton,
Mons. Rio, Charles
Sheridan the elder, and Edmund
Phipps. The dinner was very agreeable to me, and I thought that
Mrs. Brinsley Sheridan was very pretty.’
An interesting letter from Lord
Wellesley may be fitly introduced by a remark made by Rogers about him, which is reported by Lord Stanhope in his ‘Notes of Conversations with the Duke of Wellington.’
‘Friday, March 15th, 1839.—Macaulay, Hallam, Gurwood
and Rogers came to breakfast with me. India
being mentioned, “I think,” said Rogers,
“that the most remarkable contrast that history affords, is between the
Duke of Wellington and Lord Wellesley, the one scorning all display, the
other living for nothing else.” “Yes,”
said Macaulay;
“no two brothers, to be eminent men, were ever so
unlike.”’
‘Kingston House: 20th April, 1839—Saturday.
‘My dear Mr.
Rogers,—Your very handsome present has delighted me, and
demands my warmest gratitude. The book is magnificent, and quite suitable to
the value of its contents.
‘I sought immediately my old and highly prized friend,
“The Pleasures of
Memory,” which I have read over more than three times, with
increased admiration. I should like to hear what your opinion is of the famous
passage in Dante—
—‘Nessun maggior
dolore
Che ricordarsi del tempo felice Nella miseria.— |
‘Milton has the
same idea—
‘For now the thought Both of lost happiness and lasting pain Torments him. |
‘This would seem inconsistent with the notion of
pleasure in the recollection of past happiness; Goldsmith too—
‘To our past joys recurring ever, And cheating us with present pain. |
‘Not so T.
Moore—
‘The memory of the past shall stay, And all our joys renew. |
180 |
ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES
|
|
‘Dante hints that
there is some such sentiment in Virgil—
‘e ciò sa il tuo
Dottore. |
‘But I do not remember any passage in Virgil of that description, although several where
the recollection of past pain is described as a pleasure—
‘Hæc olim meminisse juvabit. |
‘I shall read the other poems in the book with great
attention, and I have no doubt with the same admiration as that with which I am
more particularly acquainted.
‘Believe me always, my dear Sir, with sincere regards
and esteem, your faithful and obliged servant,
Archbishop Trench writes—
‘The poet Wordsworth is
in town. I met him at breakfast this morning at Rogers’s, who was very kind and cordial, speaking with real
feeling and admiration of my mother.
“Philip van Artevelde” was
present, and I liked him better than when I met him on a former occasion.’
Daniel Webster was in London in the spring, and,
with his wife, was a frequent visitor at Rogers’s house. Crabb
Robinson, who met them at Kenyon’s
in June, says that he had an air of imperial strength, such as Cæsar might have had, and that his wife also had a dignified
appearance. Mr. and Mrs.
Ticknor alone resembled them in this particular. Moore records his
meeting with
Webster at Miss
Rogers’s. Another American, Miss Katharine
Sedgwick, came too, with an introduction from Fanny Kemble (Mrs. Butler), who had known
Rogers from her childhood, as the intimate friend of her father
and her aunt. Her letter has an interest of its own.
‘New York: Tuesday, 30th April [1839].
‘My dear Sir,—I have a great favour to request of
you, and hope that you will not pronounce me a very impertinent person for so
doing. A very interesting and excellent woman, an especial friend of mine,
Miss Katharine Sedgwick, is about
visiting England with her brother, who is travelling to recover entirely from
the effects of a paralytic stroke, from which he is already partially restored.
Her name may possibly be known to you, as her books have been both republished
and reviewed in England; at any rate, she is a very dear friend of mine, and
upon that ground I venture to recommend her to your kindness. The celebrity of
American writers has but a faint echo generally on your side of the water, but
her writings, which are chiefly addressed to the young and the poor of her own
country, are very excellent in their spirit and execution, and she is
altogether a person whom even you might be well pleased to know, rare for her
goodness, and with talents of no common order. Pray, my dear Sir, if it is not
asking too much of you, extend some courtesy to my friend. I have indeed but
little claim upon you to justify such a petition, but the request, I think,
recom-
182 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
mends itself, for it is a good work to bestow
kindness on those who need it; and who do need it so much as forlorn sojourners
in foreign lands? Although you say most cruel things (as I remember), you do, I
know, many most kind ones, and I feel, therefore, the more courage in
addressing this prayer to you. I do not know that you take sufficient interest
in me to care much for any particular information about my proceedings, and
having done my errand, I will cease troubling you, with merely the observation
that I understand you express an opinion that I am in love with the idea of my
husband, to which I can only say that you are perfectly right, for five years
of the intimate intercourse of reality have yet left me in love with the idea
of my husband, and in that respect, I
believe, I have the advantage over not a few married women.
‘I am, my dear Sir, yours very truly,
Those who care to compare two reports of a conversation with the
Duke of Wellington will find on pages 199 and 201
of Rogers’s ‘Recollections’ an account of
Wellington seeing Soult,
and Soult afterwards seeing the Duke. Lord
Stanhope says (Conversations, &c.,
page 143), Rogers was told this at a dinner at his house in Grosvenor
Place on the 2nd of June, 1839, when the party to meet the Duke ‘consisted of
Lady Frederick Bentinck, Mdlle. D’Este, my sister, Lord Clare, Lord Alford, and Mr. Rogers.’
Sydney Smith had published in the spring his
‘Contributions to ‘The Edinburgh
Review,’ and the death of
| ROGERS AND SYDNEY SMITH | 183 |
Courtenay, in the summer of 1839, made him a
comparatively rich man, and enabled him to take the house in Green Street, Grosvenor
Square, in which he lived till his death in February 1845. He was eight years younger than
Rogers, and died more than ten years before him. The relations between them were most
affectionate. He joked Rogers as nobody else dared.
‘My dear Rogers,’ he said one day, ‘if we
were both in America, we should be tarred and feathered, and lovely as we are by
nature, I should be an ostrich and you an emu.’ He went with Moore and Rogers one day to see
Dryden’s house. It was very wet, but
Rogers, always enthusiastic about Dryden, got
out of the carriage, but Moore and Smith refused.
‘Oh, you see why Rogers don’t mind getting out,’
exclaimed Sydney to Moore, ‘he has got
goloshes on; lend us each a golosh, Rogers, and we will each stand
on one leg and admire as long as you please.’ Responding to an invitation to
breakfast, Sydney Smith writes, ‘To breakfast with you in
return for your breakfasting with me, is to give you a shilling for a guinea, but if
you are generous enough to accept such payment, I shall be most happy to make
it.’
There can perhaps be no greater transition than from the merry and
light-hearted Sydney Smith to the unfortunate, and in some respects
unhappy, Blanco White. Readers of Mr. Thom’s biography of him will, however, recognise him as one of
the most remarkable men of his time. He made some stir in London Society, and came
frequently into contact with Rogers, who heartily
sympathised with him, and showed him some kindness. The
184 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
only letter
from Blanco White I find among Rogers’s
papers is worth preserving.
‘My dear Friend,—I owe a debt of gratitude to you;
and I know that you will not grudge me the pleasure of acknowledging it, though
it must be by troubling you with a letter.
‘If you knew how great is my love to that son of my
misfortunes, to whom you have shown so much kindness and friendship, you would
also know how to value the sincerity of my gratitude to you. Never was, I
believe, a more surprising combination of adversity and success than appears in
our mutual relations. Heaven has rewarded me for whatever I may have done or
suffered in performing my duties. That Ferdinand
White has been found not unworthy of your attention is indeed a
very delightful part of that reward.
‘I must tell you that during the most afflicting period
of the miserable disease which makes me linger so long on the brink of the
grave, I have found a constant source of relief to my mind and feelings in your
inimitable “Italy.” I have read it twice over, when my tortured mind rejected
every other reading except Shakspeare.
Happy the man who, by transfusing his soul into that work, has imparted to it a
spirit of refined, benevolent humanity, which must secure it admirers as long
as Nature and true taste shall exist among those who speak the English
language.
Take this, my friend, as the language of the heart.
I am not in a state to flatter. Believe
me, ever your obliged and affectionate friend,
‘22 Upper Stanhope Street, Liverpool: 13th June, 1839.’
Crabb Robinson gives an example which came under his
own notice of Rogers’s patronage of poor and deserving authors.
‘August 8th, 1839.—Breakfasted at Samuel Rogers’s with W. Maltby. There came in a plain-looking man from the North, named
Miller, of free opinions and deportment. He
had risen by his talents; and Rogers told us his history.
“He called on me lately,” said Rogers, “and
reminded me that he had formerly sold me some baskets—his own work—and that
on his showing me some of his poems I gave him three guineas. That money enabled him to
get work from the booksellers, and he had since written historical romances,
“Fair
Rosamond,” “Lady Jane
Grey,” etc.’
In the summer Rogers gives an
account of himself to his sister.
‘Holland House: 23rd August, 1839.
‘My dear Sarah,—. . . Last week I passed a night at the Castle at
Richmond with the Hollands, and next day
saw the Dunlops, and also Mrs. Fox,
who was there on her way to a dentist in town. Miss
Willoughby and Miss Marsden were with her,
and she looked as well as she could do with a bad cold. I passed two nights
186 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
too at Walton with the Tankervilles, and took a peep at Hampton Court. I have twice
drawn upon Edmund and Mrs. Allen,
once to dine Lady Holland and once the
Carlisles, who have returned from
Italy. Last night the Queen dined at
Stafford House, and I went in the evening. Who should call one day between
eleven and twelve, but Lady Essex and
Miss J.! They are frightened at the distance of
Bareges, which Dr. Chambers recommended,
but mean to go somewhere next week, and have set their hearts upon meeting you
at Paris. They have bought a very small britzka, too small they fear to carry
anything, and with a maid and a courier mean to make their way. They have
parted with every face in the house, and felt never so free and happy as when
the last went out of it. Maltby went
to-day to Broadstairs, having no alternative, his maid wishing to go to
Scotland. I shall follow him in a week or so, when I have remained a little
while here. Millingen and Wilkinson are still here, and I see them
often. The other day I asked the Sharpes, and M., and W., and Eastlake, and Stanfield,
and Maltby, and Dr.
Lepsius to dinner at a venture, and they all came.
Mary, and Patty, and
Sarah, and Dan are gone to the
sea near Liverpool, and wish the newspapers sent there. Farewell, my dear
Sarah; give best remembrances to your fellow-traveller, and believe me to be
ever yours affectionately,
The first letter from Dickens
1 is in the following autumn.
1 I have to thank Miss Georgina
Hogarth, Dickens’s
sister-in-law, for her kind permission to publish the letters from
Dickens which
|
‘Doughty Street: Thursday, 14th November [1839].
‘My dear Sir,—I was concerned to hear, at Holland
House yesterday, that you had left there in consequence of not feeling very
well. I hope it was but a temporary ailing, and that this will find you as well
as I wish you—in which case you will not have felt better in all your
life, believe me.
‘I intended to have asked you yesterday to let me send
you a copy of “Nickleby.” Being prevented, I send it you now without
permission, begging you to receive with it, my dear Sir, the warm assurance of
my esteem and admiration.
‘Did you ever “move”? We have taken a house
near the Regent’s Park, intending to occupy it between this and
Christmas, and the consequent trials have already begun. There is an old
proverb that three removes are as bad as a fire. I don’t know how that
may be, but I know that one is worse.
‘Always believe me, my dear Sir, faithfully yours,
R. B. Haydon, who was painting a picture of the
Duke of Wellington, says, towards the end of
November—
‘Rogers called and was
pleased with the Duke. He said it was the man. He said he wished I would paint
Napoleon musing at St. Helena, not so fat as
he really was; that that was the only thing Talleyrand and the
appear in this volume. Miss Hogarth correctly describes them as
‘charming and characteristic.’ |
188 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
Duchess De Dino objected to in my picture at
Sir Robert Peel’s. I asked him what
they thought of the picture. He said, most highly, but that the fatness always pained
them, as they never saw him so. He said he saw him with Mr.
Fox in 1802, and nothing could be handsomer than his smile.
Rogers is a Whig; he lingers about
Napoleon, and did not seem to think the Duke half so
interesting. He told me I was a great poet, etc., and went away.’
Four letters from three eminent Americans, one of which introduces to
Rogers a fourth, almost equally eminent, may
here be grouped without regard to chronology. They all belong to the same year.
‘Boston: 27th Jan., 1840.
‘My dear Sir,—I yesterday received the copy of
your poems, which you did me the honor to send me, for which I heartily thank
you. They have been my study and delight, some of them, I may truly say, from
boyhood, and to possess a copy of them from the author, in any form, would have
been highly gratifying to me. How much more so is it in this magnificent
edition, in which the text seems to derive additional beauty from that of the
illustrations. It is a further pleasure for me to regard it—I hope not
presumptuously—as an expression of your approbation of my own humble
efforts in the field of letters.
‘Believe me, my dear Sir, with sentiments of the
highest respect, your much obliged and obedient servant,
|
LETTERS FROM DANIEL WEBSTER
|
189 |
‘Washington: 10th Feb., 1840.
‘My dear Sir,—If what Dr. Johnson says be true, I am somewhat “advanced in the
dignity of a thinking being,” as the past and the distant at this moment
predominate in my mind strongly over the present. From amidst the labors of law
and the strife of politics, I transport myself to London. No sooner am I in
London, than I go off to find you, to grasp your hand, to assure myself of your
health, and then to sit down and hear you talk. I enjoy all this, my dear Sir,
most highly, and mean to enjoy it, so long as you and myself remain on this
little bit of a globe. The pleasure of your acquaintance is not, with me, the
felicity of a few months only. I fund it, and intend to get a very nice annuity
out of it, as long as I live. I shall be receiving a dividend whenever I think
of you; and if I can persuade myself into the belief that you sometimes
remember me and mine, the treasure will be so much the more valuable.
‘To that end, my dear Sir, as well as for other
purposes for which one writes a friendly letter, I transmit you this. You will
learn from it that we are all alive and safely landed on our side of the ocean.
Our passage was of thirty-five days, with the alternations of head winds and
calms; and an approach to the shore, a little dangerous, perhaps, from the
season of the year and the state of the weather. But no accident happened to
us. One of the greatest annoyances in such a voyage, at such a time of the
year, is the shocking length of the
190 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
nights. They reminded
me of the six months’ obscuration of the unhappy souls about the north
pole. When you come over, look out for short nights and long days.
‘My wife is at New York, passing a few weeks with her
father, an aged gentleman who has been a good deal out of health.
Mrs. Paige is in Boston, entertaining the circles
around her with the wonders of London and Paris. Julia is also in Boston, and
if she knew I was writing, would be eager to put on to my sheet her warm
recollections. You have many older admirers, but none more ardent or
enthusiastic. If it were proposed to her to visit Europe again, the pleasure of
seeing you, I am sure, would be a very powerful inducement.
‘Having visited Boston, I came hither a fortnight ago.
Congress is in session, and will remain so, not probably quite so late as
Parliament will sit, but until June or July. Our affairs are bad enough. The
currency is terribly deranged, and the important and delicate questions which
always belong to such a subject are sadly handled when they become topics for
heated and violent parties. I see, too, that the money crisis is not over in
England. Our concerns are, indeed, much connected, and the same causes affect
them all.
‘I am coming to the opinion fast, that some new modes
of regulation must be adopted in both countries; or else these frequent
contractions and expansions of the paper circulation will compel us to give it
up and go back to gold, or iron, or the Lord knows what. But I will not bore
you with politics. Let me, rather, say that I have answered a hundred questions
about you, made many persons happy by speaking of you, and that
| LETTERS FROM DANIEL WEBSTER | 191 |
I make it a point to
boast, perpetually, of your kindness to us. I wish I had something to send you
worthy of your perusal. If I should be so fortunate as to see anything shortly
which I may think possesses that character, it will furnish me an apology for
writing to you again. I pray you to present our kind and grateful remembrance
to Miss Rogers, whose attentions we
shall never forget, and when at Holland House will you dome the honor to tender
my best respects to Lord and Lady Holland?
‘I am, my dear Sir, with the most sincere attachment
and regard,
‘Yours,
‘Washington: 25th May, 1840.
‘My dear Sir,—Some time in August I hope this
letter will be put into your hand by my personal and particular friend,
Mr. Everett. Twenty years ago
Mr. Everett was in England, and made the acquaintance
of Lord Byron, Sir
Walter Scott, Lord Stowell,
and others who have since joined the great congregation of the dead. He missed
you, and he has therefore a great pleasure to come.
‘Mr. Everett is
a scholar, if we may be thought to have reared one in America. For some years
past he has been engaged in political life as a member of Congress and Governor
of Massachusetts. He now goes abroad with the intention of passing some years
in France and Italy. His family is with him, but he has
192 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
informed me that he thinks of leaving them in Paris, and of making a short
visit to London, before he goes into winter quarters on the Continent. As he is
my fast friend, I commend him to you, my dear Mr.
Rogers, as a sort of alter ego; but he is a much more learned, a
more wise, and a better ego than he who writes this. Have the kindness to make
him known at Holland House and also to Miss
Rogers.
‘A thousand blessings attend you, my dear Sir. And many
happy years yet be yours.
‘Boston, U. States of America: 30th Dec., 1840.
‘My dear Sir,—I received last summer your very
kind letter and the beautiful little copy of your poems that accompanied it;
but I have since been chiefly in the country, and not in a position to answer
it as I desired. The year, however, must not go out without carrying to you my
very sincere acknowledgments. The copy of the “Italy” especially is very beautiful. I
do not know that the art of engraving on wood can go further than it does in
those woodcuts which, I suppose, were made for it expressly; most of the others
being the same with those in the edition of your Poems of 1820, which I
remember we thought quite a gem in its time. But I was very glad to get the two
little vols. of 1839, which I had never heard of before, for another reason. I
now have nearly all the editions of your works, including even the “Ode to Superstition, with some
other Poems,” 1786, which I exceedingly value as a proof of
what you could do in
your boyhood. I
wonder whether you have so complete a series yourself? In particular, I wonder
whether you have the American editions of them. If you have not, pray let me
know it, and it will give me particular pleasure to send them to you.
‘After I wrote to you about the extraordinary story of
what happened at Harrogate,1 I saw the magnificent
quarto copy of your poems which my friend Prescott received, and immediately recognized the tale in its
Italian mask. It has a particular value and meaning for me, and I was delighted
at the grace with which it is told. But if such a story may be told gracefully,
what may not? The little edition of ’39 also contains it, and so, I
trust, will all that may follow.
‘I need not tell you, I suppose, that your works have a
great circulation and success in this country. The octavo edition in
particular, with its exquisite vignettes, is found in proportion, I think,
oftener in Boston than it is in London—in proportion, I mean, to the
population. Of the 12mo, I know no copy but the one you were kind enough to
send me, and of the 4to none but Prescott’s. So they are much admired and stared at. They
were not known to exist till these copies arrived, and even last week two
intelligent booksellers denied the existence of the smaller one. Everybody,
indeed, wants the octavo, and everybody who can afford it has it. But all this
you must know substantially from your bookseller, who must be aware how many
copies came to Boston.
‘Mrs. Ticknor
and my young lady—now really
1 See the letter from Uvedale Price in the tenth chapter,
vol. i., pp. 358, 359, ‘An English
Ginevra.’ |
194 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
become such—desire to be most respectfully and
affectionately remembered to you. We all recollect, with lively gratitude, your
kindness to us in London.
‘Yours always very faithfully,
‘When you happen to see Mr. Milman, will you do me the favour to thank him for a
copy of his poems, which I received with yours, and to say that I shall
write to him soon?
‘One thing more. You will be pleased to hear that
our excellent friend Professor
Smyth’s first series of lectures—those on Modern
History—are, at my suggestion, reprinting here, so as to be
used as a text-book in our neighbouring University—Cambridge. This
comes as near teaching posterity as a man can, and yet keep in this world.
Do you remember the beautiful phrase of Tacitus about Germanicus—fruitur famâ. Well, if you or Professor Smyth will
come to Boston, you can furnish a beautiful illustration of it. But I
suppose you will rather trust the matter to the commentators than take the
trouble in person.
‘G. T.’
In the spring and summer of 1840 there are the usual records of meetings
with Rogers in Moore’s Diary, but only two are worth quoting.
‘February, 19th,
1840.—My first visit was to Rogers, whom I
found remarkably well and full of kindness. Agreed with me that three men now looked up
to by the people of England were the Duke,
Lord John, and
Peel. Mentioned, à
propos of this, what he had told me of the Duke saying to him last year, in
speaking of the ministry, “Lord John is a host in
himself.”’
‘26th.—Dined at Holland House. A
good deal of talk about Erskine, and the
particulars of his first brief, much of which, as now told by Rogers, was quite different from the account given me
of it by Jekyll; but
Rogers, it seems, took it all down from
Erskine’s own lips. Came away with
Rogers and went to Lady
Minto’s—a large assembly.’
A veteran poet, who is still living, wrote thus forty-nine years ago, and
the letter is as honourable to the writer as to the recipient of it.
‘14 Bazing Place, Lambeth: 15th Feb., 1840.
‘Sir,—Perhaps I have committed an error in
dedicating the accompanying volume to you without your permission, but if error
it be, the doubt only suggested itself to my mind when it was too late to be
remedied. After all it requires no permission to be grateful, and in the simple
feeling of admiration and gratitude, I have inscribed your name upon this
attempt at poetry. You may not, perhaps, remember that five or six years ago, a
nameless, friendless, hard-struggling stranger, alone in the wide world of
London, upon whom the gaunt fiend of Distress was scowling at no very great
distance, as a last resource before despairing altogether, enclosed a small
volume of rhymes and sent it to you with a statement of his case. You gave him
relief—that was some-
196 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
thing; you gave him sympathy,
which was something more; and you gave him encouragement, which was dearest of
all. You told him there was genius in him—you told him of some errors he
should for the future avoid—you recommended Spenser to his constant perusal, and predicted that on some day
or other his own most intimate yearning would be satisfied, and that he would
produce something which the world would not willingly let die. . . . He has not
the vanity to say that he has succeeded yet, but he has tried for it, and if he
has failed, has energy enough to try again and again, cheered even under
failure, to find, like Coleridge,
“that the love of poetry is its own exceeding great reward.”
‘The gratitude expressed in this dedication and
repeated in my letter is not of that sort which the Frenchman alluded to,
“A keen sense of favours to come.” Fortune, which did not aid my
exertions when I addressed you first, has changed her mind since then, and has
not withheld the rewards which are due to honest labour—so that you are
to take this dedication purely as it is intended and as it is expressed, of
admiration which I feel in common with all readers—and of gratitude for
the one act of kindness which shed a light upon a very dreary period of my
life.
‘Believe me to remain, ever with respect and esteem,
yours very faithfully,
In Macready’s Reminiscences, under the date of
May 24th, 1840, he writes: ‘Talfourd and
Dickens called for me, and we went together to
Rogers’s, where we dined. Lord and Lady Seymour,
Mrs. Norton, Lady
Dufferin,
Lord Denman, Luttrell, and Poole, with Miss Rogers, were of our party. I was pleased with the
day, liking Mrs. Norton very much, and being much amused with some
anecdotes of Rogers. His collection of pictures is admirable, and the
spirit of good taste seems to pervade every nook of his house.’
It is needless to say what was Rogers’s response to the following letter.
‘Devonshire Terrace: Thursday, 13th August, 1840.
‘My dear Sir,—I have decided to publish
“Master
Humphrey’s Clock” in half-yearly volumes, each volume
containing, of course, the collected numbers for that period. As the first of
these will be out at the end of September, and I want to settle a point I have
in my mind, let me ask a favour of you at once.
‘Have you any objection to my dedicating the book to
you, and so having one page in it which will afford me earnest and lasting
gratification? I will not tell you how many strong and cordial feelings move me
to this inquiry, for I am unwilling to parade, even before you, the sincere and
affectionate regard which I seek to gratify.
‘If I wrote a quire of notes, I could say no more than
this. I must leave a great deal understood, and only say, with a most hearty
adaptation of what has passed into a very heartless form, that I am always,
‘My dear Sir, faithfully yours,
The great event in Whig circles in the autumn of
198 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
1840 was the death of Lord Holland, at Holland House,
on the 22nd of October. He was ten years younger than Rogers, but he formed the chief of the few remaining links with the great
men of their earlier days. As a Whig leader in the House of Lords, first in the days of
Whig depression, and afterwards in the era of their triumphs, he had won a great position
in popular esteem and was regarded as the fit inheritor of the traditions as of the name of
Fox. This social influence, and that of the
brilliant circle he and his wife gathered at Holland House, probably did more service to
his party than even his action in the House of Lords. To the Whigs generally his death was
a heavy blow at an untimely moment; but to Rogers it threatened the
desolation of the circle in which he was himself an oracle. He and Moore were staying at Bowood when they heard of
Lord Holland’s death, and Moore tells
us how they received the news.
‘October 23rd.—While I was dressing this morning the maître
d’hôtel came to my room with the distressing and startling
intelligence that Lord Holland was dead! He had
been sent by Lady Lansdowne to tell me, with a
request that I would inform Mr. Rogers of the
sad news. Went immediately to Rogers’s room, who was equally
shocked with myself at the sad intelligence. Met all at breakfast. Lord Lansdowne showed me a letter from Dr. Holland, giving an account of all the particulars
of his death, which took place after a short illness. My own opinion was that our party
ought to separate, but I found to my surprise that both Lord and Lady
Lansdowne’s wish was that we should stay. Having expressed
| SOME LITERARY CRITICISM | 199 |
my opinion to
Rogers, he thought right to mention it to Lady
Lansdowne, but her earnest wish was that we should stay, and
Rogers returned to me from her crying like a child. It is
right to say, however, that both he and all felt (as who would not feel?) that a great
light had gone out, and that not only the friends of such a man, but the whole
community in general, had suffered an irreparable loss.’
Moore, another day, gives us a scrap of Rogers’s literary criticism.
‘31st October.—Rogers mentioned among other agree able things a
curious parallel found in the “Odyssey” to the well-known story of the Indian chief at Niagara, who
was lying asleep in his boat, just above the current of the Falls, when some wicked
person cut the rope by which his boat was fastened to the shore, and he was carried
down the cataract. The poor Indian, on waking up, had made every effort, by means of
his paddle, to stop the career of the canoe, but, finding it to be all hopeless, and
that he was hurrying to the edge, he took a draught out of his brandy flask, wrapped
his mantle about him, and, seating himself composedly, thus went down the Falls. The
parallel to this in Homer is when the companions of
Ulysses, in spite of all his precautions, let
loose the Bag of the Winds, and when, with the same dignified composure, Ulysses submits to his fate. The natural action of
wrapping round the mantle is the same in both! Cowper thus translates the passage—
‘I then, awaking, in my noble mind,
Stood doubtful, whether from my vessel’s side
|
200 |
ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES
|
|
Immersed to perish in the flood, or calm
To endure my sorrows, and consent to live.
I calm endured them; but around my head
Winding my mantle, laid me down below.’
|
In November Rogers was visiting
the Duke of Wellington at Strathfieldsaye, and
Lord Stanhope, who joined the party on the 26th,
found him there and Lord and Lady Wilton. Lord and
Lady Lyndhurst and Miss
Copley arrived on the next day, when Rogers left. They
had been together to the churchyard in the morning to see an inscription, and
Rogers repeated one, taken from another humble country churchyard,
and dated, he thought, about 1678.
‘To woo us unto Heaven her life was lent; To wean us from this earth her death was sent.’ |
Rogers remarked, Lord
Stanhope tells us, that sometimes there were great flashes of humour in
Sir Robert Peel’s conversation. At a
meeting of the Trustees of the British Museum somebody said, about some expensive purchases
by young Tomline, ‘What would his
grandfather (the Bishop) say if he could now
look up?’ Peel said slyly, ‘I observe you
don’t say, look down!’ ‘Rogers told us with some
irritation,’ says Lord Stanhope, ‘that yesterday, at
dinner, Lady Wilton asked him whether he had ever
known Lord Byron.’ The Rev. Gerald Wellesley, afterwards Dean of Windsor, who was
present at the dinner, told Lord Stanhope that the question was asked
by Lady Wilton in good faith, and ‘that the poet, apparently
much annoyed, replied, “Known him—yes, I did know him—too
well.”’
|
MACREADYS REMINISCENCES
|
201 |
There are pleasant glimpses of Rogers in Macready’s Reminiscences. One day, in November, he calls at St.
James’s Place with the plan of the monument to Mrs.
Siddons, into which Rogers enters warmly, and tells
Macready that on the occasion of her
brother’s monument (though it was really on the occasion of the great dinner to
John Kemble on his retirement) she said,
‘I hope, Mr. Rogers, that one day justice will be done to
women.’ On the last day of January, 1841, Dickens calls for Macready, and they go together to
Rogers’s to dine. Eastlake is there, and Colonel Fox,
Kenney, Maltby, Babbage, and two others, and
Macready says of it: ‘A pleasant day. Showed
Rogers my Committee list, with which he was
pleased.’ On the 22nd of March Rogers drops in to a meeting
of the Siddons Committee, and then dines at Macready’s, with
Mrs. Jameson, Mrs.
Pierce Butler, Kenney, Dickens,
Travers, and Harness. Lord Stanhope records meeting him at grand
dinners at Apsley House in May and August.
In a letter to Napier, in which
Macaulay suggests that if Southey dies Leigh Hunt
might very well have the laurel, he asks him to move Rogers to write a short account of Lord
Holland’s character for ‘The Edinburgh Review,’ and adds, ‘Nobody knew his house so well,
and Rogers is no mean artist in prose.’ It is a calamity
that Rogers did not do even more than this, for who could have given
such an account of Holland House as he? But he was approaching the end of his
seventy-eighth year when Macaulay expressed the wish. Socially,
however, he was the same as ever; indeed, the universal testimony is that he improved with
age. These letters,
202 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
written in the autumn of 1841, show wonderful
vigour for a man in his seventy-ninth year.
‘My dear Sarah,—What will you say when you hear that I have been
over-persuaded by Maltby to cross the
water. Indeed, the report was so strong that we were going, that we could not
help ourselves. Last Thursday I left Broadstairs for Canterbury, M. having gone
to receive permission from Mr. Travers,
and returned from London yesterday. I breakfasted and drank tea with Q[uillinan] and Dora twice. She seems as happy as she can be. To-day we came
here, and to-morrow embark. To-night we enjoy a coal fire for the last time.
To-night the sea is smooth as glass, but to-morrow it may be mountain high.
Lady Essex, &c., &c., were
detained here some days. I hope you mean, if you can, to see our dear friends
at Stourbridge.
‘Yours ever,
‘S. R.’
‘My dear Sarah,—I am so glad your journey has answered in any degree;
and your last visit cannot fail, for there you will be discharging a duty, and
with those who will rejoice to see you. As for our adventure, perhaps a brief
journal and a comment or two will give you the best idea of it.
‘October 7.—Canterbury. I drank tea with the
Quillinans.
‘8th.—Breakfasted with them.
‘9th.—Slept at Dover; walked on the parade.
‘10th.—Embarked at 6, landed at Boulogne at 9.30;
a pleasant voyage. After breakfast went and slept at Montreuil, after a walk on
the ramparts.
‘11th.—Abbeville; Madame, at the Hôtel de
l’Europe, asked tenderly after the ladies, you and Miss M. Saw by the
book that Dr. Henderson was at Paris.
‘12th.—Amiens.
‘13th.—Chantilly; a sunset.
‘14th.—A fair at St. Denis; saw the Abbey and the
tombs. Paris: old apartment at l’Hôtel de l’Europe. Dined and
went to the Italian Opera; Maltby
reposed at home. So far well. M. is delighted with everything, and desires me
to tell you so. He was so afraid of climbing that I thought of an entresol, and now he is enchanted and thinks so little
of the staircase, that he has once or twice gone a flight higher by mistake. We
dine in the restaurants below and breakfast above. The Martineaus (Miss Batty)
breakfasted once with us and are gone; Dr.
Henderson more than once and twice. We have been to Versailles.
The weather has been rainy, but always fair when we wanted it most. I have been
much at the Louvre with Mr. Locke, and
Maltby much with the booksellers. When I dine out,
which has happened once or twice with the Lockes, M. dines
at Very’s and talks with the French. Once we breakfasted with
Mrs. Forster, and met the Tricquettis and Mrs.
Jameson, who I suspect lodges and boards with Mrs. F., and
Miss Courtenay, who was with her on a visit and is
gone. Mrs. J. is for ever in the gallery, and evidently
204 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
for the Press. Who should I meet there twice but Miss
Denman! She was with another lady, and is now gone.
Sarah’s affair is, indeed, a great event, and
must occupy poor Mary very much. I hope it will turn out
well. M. and F. are indeed very unlucky. To be prisoners at Innspruck of all
places in the world! Your visit to Quarry Bank must have affected you not a
little. What a change there in a few years! Fanny
Johnstone, I fear, does not lie in your way home. I calculate
that you will be returned by the middle of November; our month here will expire
on November 11, and perhaps we shall stay till then, for M., who came with the
resolution to go in a week, seems now very willing to stay till he removes to
the Père la Chaise. As for me, I have had nearly enough. Lady Essex and Miss J. doze away their time.
They have a premier at number 36 near us, and every
other day one or the other is confined to her bed, having never been to the
Italian Opera but once, when I took stalls for them, or to the Grand Opera but
once and with us. Miss Gregg, one of the Antient Music
subscribers, was of the party. When they go out it is in a citadine, unless they walk in the garden, which they profess to do
much, but I never meet them there. When they put on their bonnets
Mlle. Poppet is enragé.
They have not yet got a loge at the Italian Opera, which
is very difficult to be had. (They have now one for once a week.) There is a
curious opera performing here by boys—“Byron at
Harrow”—Sir R.
Peel is the principal conspirator, and cries
“Marchons!” We must
see it. Near my own door I met to-day Sir William and
Lady Chatterley. They set off for Nice and Naples,
when she fell ill by the way, and
they are come to stay here. I walked them upstairs and showed them an apartment
au premier. Whether they will take it I don’t
know. They enquired much after you, as Mme. de Chabannes
has done. She called yesterday, and to-day I have seen her. She is in her usual
spirits. I have looked about a little, and have seen nothing in the shops to
tempt me hitherto, and I think I should return to-morrow but for my companion,
who is in higher spirits than I ever saw him, and is trying, by Dr.
H.’s encouragement and example, to like French
cookery—rather a late attempt. He will now, I tell him, no longer shake
his head so repulsively when your entremets are offered to him. He is just gone
out to dine with Dr. H. at a table
d’hôte. For the three last days there has been a sale at
the Ambassade. Everything sold off, from parlour bijouterie down to pots and
kettles. The Granvilles are gone to Nice
and the Cowleys not yet come.
‘Farewell, my dear Sarah, and believe me to be yours affectionately,
‘S. R.
‘30th Oct. [1841]: Hootel de l’Europe, Rue de Rivoli.
‘Sutton
called upon us twice before he went and seemed very happy and much engaged.
Pray give my best love to everybody at Stourbridge. I hope
Patty received my letter. You must now be familiar
with railroads. I have heard nothing from Lady
Holland, who must now have returned from Brighton. When in
England I had a letter twice a week, but I suppose she is displeased at my
going. I was for calling upon the , but when
Maltby said, in bis usual
phrase, “I
206 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
have no objection,” I let it
alone. On our return I shall hope to find Catherine
there. The weather very tolerable, and often with M. a subject for
congratulation.’
A letter from Wordsworth’s son-in-law arose
out of the visit to Canterbury mentioned in the above letter.
[With drawing (pen and ink), by M. H., 14th October, 1841, of Residence of
Sir Thomas More in Canterbury.]
‘Dear Mr.
Rogers,—Here is a sketch of Sir
Thomas More’s House at Canterbury—I have been
promised one, which I expect to be still better, and which I hope to have the
pleasure of sending you soon.
‘The following account of the building I copy from a
topographical history of Canterbury, which has just fallen in my way. It seems
to be pretty correct—
‘“In Orange Street are the remains of the
house of Sir Thomas More. It was a
spacious and noble building, in the form of a quadrangle, having the
entrance through a large gateway now standing on the south side of the
street; in front of the house and between the two wings was a large
courtyard, which is now called Dancing School Yard. The building is
principally of wood, with gable front and a long range of windows extending
all along the front of the building, very much ornamented with stained
glass, of which little remains. The rooms are spacious and ornamented with
carved mouldings or cornices. The walls were painted in fresco, as appears
| SIR THOMAS MORE’S HOUSE | 207 |
from the wall
of the upper apartment, in which may be seen some very good designs. The
building is now converted into a wool-warehouse.”
‘While you were on your way to Dover I got into the
house and had some talk with the owner, who told me that when he, some few
years ago, took possession, there was a good deal of stained glass in the
windows, and that no doubt the whole of that glazed range of gallery had been
formerly glazed with painted glass. I saw a small portion of it.
‘I think I mentioned to you that the head of Sir Thomas More is in a vault in St.
Dunstan’s Church at Canterbury, the first Church you come to in the
suburbs on the right hand side of the road as you come from London. His body
was buried, I believe, at Chelsea. As to the head, the story is that it was
exposed on London Bridge for a fortnight, and that Margaret Roper “begged it” and carried it to
Canterbury and placed it in the church opposite to the dwelling-house of the
Ropers—now a brewery—(a brick archway
remains and some of the walls of this old building). She is said to have
desired that her father’s head should be placed in her arms in her own
coffin, but this request appears to have been neglected.
‘We arrived here a fortnight ago, and are more
comfortably lodged than we were at Canterbury.
‘We heard by accident, two or three days since, of your
return to town, from Signor Prandi, who is the Italian
teacher at Mrs. Gee’s school near us.
‘Dora is quite
well, and has the impudence to send you her love. On my taxing her with
boldness, she says
208 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
put “respectful
love.”—You will say that makes it worse, and so say I.
‘Believe me, my dear Sir, yours faithfully,
In December there was a gathering at Bowood, of which at least three
contemporary accounts have been published. C.
Greville arrived there a few days before Christmas, and strongly contrasts
the company he found there with that which he had left at Woburn. ‘There, nothing
but idle, ignorant, ordinary people, among whom there was not an attempt at anything
like society or talk; here, though not many, almost all distinguished more or
less—Moore, Rogers, Macaulay, R. Westmacott,
Butler and Mrs.
Butler, Dr. Fowler and his wife, Lady H. Baring, Miss Fox.’
Mrs. Butler adds Babbage, and speaks of the ladies as ‘charming, agreeable,
unaffected women.’ The conjunction of Macaulay and
Rogers, the one forty, the other approaching eighty—the
waxing and the waning social celebrities—gave the party much amusement.
Macaulay was talking perpetually. His sonorous voice, his
superabundant physical energy, his generally declamatory style of conversation, carried
everything before it. ‘The drollest thing,’ says
Greville, ‘is to see the effect upon
Rogers, who is nearly extinguished, and can neither make
himself heard nor find an interval to get in a word. He is exceedingly provoked, though
he cannot help admiring.’ Mrs. Butler is more explicit.
She makes a general remark about Macaulay’s ‘speech
power,’ and says that Sydney Smith’s
humorous and good-humoured rage at his prolific talk was very
funny. ‘Rogers’s, of
course,’ she adds, ‘was not good-humoured; and on this very occasion, one
day at breakfast, having two or three times uplifted his thread of voice and fine
incisive speech against the torrent of Macaulay’s holding
forth, Lord Lansdowne, the most courteous of hosts,
endeavoured to make way for him with a “You were saying, Mr.
Rogers,” when Rogers hissed out, “Oh,
what I was saying will keep.”’ Greville writes,
‘He will revive to-morrow, when Macaulay goes,’ and it was
not Rogers only who revived, for Mrs. Butler
declares that the company was so incessantly clever, witty, and brilliant, that it gave her
a brain-ache. Moore gives a somewhat different account of
Rogers. He says Rogers stayed more than a
week, and speaks of him as ‘still fresh in all his best faculties, and improved
wonderfully in the only point where he was ever at all deficient—temper. He now
gives the natural sweetness of his disposition fair play. He walked over to see
Bessy one or two days, through all the
wretched mud of the Bowood Lane and our own, making, to us and back again, at least six
miles.’ Rogers directed
Moore’s attention to the passage in
Macaulay’s article on Warren Hastings, which had
just appeared and of which everybody was talking, and they agreed it was in some parts
over-gorgeous. One day Rogers took Lord John
Russell over to see Bessy. He was in high spirits for
the approaching conflict—the coming event did not cast its shadow before it on this
great holiday gathering of Whigs. Mrs. Butler tells of
Rogers’s gift of his autograph: ‘After mending a pen
for me, and tenderly caressing the nib of it with a knife as sharp as his own tongue, 210 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
he wrote, in his beautiful, delicate, fine hand by way of trying
it— ‘The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.’ |
Mrs. Butler did not know that the lines are from Cowper’s ‘Epistle to an afflicted Protestant Lady in
France,’ and half thought they might be ‘an impromptu, a seer’s
vision and friend’s warning.’ The lines were great favourites with
Rogers—often on his tongue. There were two lines from
‘The Task’ which equally
possessed his imagination—
Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much;
Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
|
John Allen (1771-1843)
Scottish physician and intimate of Lord Holland; he contributed to the
Edinburgh Review and
Encyclopedia Britannica and published
Inquiry into the Rise and Growth of the Royal Prerogative in
England (1830). He was the avowed atheist of the Holland House set.
Sarah Austin [née Taylor] (1793-1867)
The daughter of John Taylor of Norwich (1750-1826); she was a respected translator
unhappily married to the legal philosopher John Austin (1790-1859) in 1819.
Charles Babbage (1791-1871)
Cambridge-educated mathematician and computer pioneer, in which capacity in 1843 he
published a paper in collaboration with Byron's daughter, Ada Augusta, countess of
Lovelace.
Henry Hervey Baber (1775-1869)
Educated at St. Paul's Schools and All Souls, Oxford, in 1807 he succeeded Henry Ellis as
keeper of printed books at the British Museum and held the post until 1837.
Charles Augustus Bennet, fifth earl of Tankerville (1776-1859)
Son of Charles Bennet, the fourth earl (d. 1822); educated at Eton, he was Whig MP for
Steyning (1803-06), Knaresborough (1806-18), and Berwick-on-Tweed) (1820-22); in 1806 he
married Armandine Sophie Leonie Corisande de Gramont.
Nathaniel Bowditch (1773-1838)
American astronomer and mathematician; he published
The New American
Practical Navigator (1802).
Frances Butler [née Kemble] (1809-1893)
English actress and writer, daughter of Charles Kemble and Maria Theresa Kemble; on a
tour to America in 1834 she was unhappily married to Pierce Butler (1807-1867).
Pierce Butler (1807-1867)
Wealthy Philadelphian who married the actress Fanny Kemble in 1834; they were divorced in
1863.
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881)
Scottish essayist and man of letters; he translated Goethe's
Wilhelm
Meister (1824) and published
Sartor Resartus
(1833-34).
Henry Francis Cary (1772-1844)
English poet; he was assistant-keeper of printed books at the British Museum (1826) and
translator of Dante (1805-19).
William Ellery Channing (1780-1842)
Unitarian clergyman and American man of letters; educated at Harvard College, he
published
Remarks on American Literature (1830) and
Self-Culture (1838).
William Frederick Chambers (1786-1855)
The son of the orientalist William Chambers (d. 1793), educated at Westminster and
Trinity College, Cambridge; he was physician to St. George's Hospital (1816-39) and was
physician-in-ordinary to William IV.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
English poet and philosopher who projected
Lyrical Ballads (1798)
with William Wordsworth; author of
Biographia Literaria (1817),
On the Constitution of the Church and State (1829) and other
works.
John Singleton Copley, baron Lyndhurst (1772-1863)
The son of the American painter; he did legal work for John Murray before succeeding Lord
Eldon as lord chancellor (1827-30, 1834-35, 1841-46); a skilled lawyer, he was also a
political chameleon.
Philip Courtenay (1786 c.-1842)
Educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, he was called to the Bar in 1808 and was King's
Counsel (1833) and MP for Bridgenorth (1837-41). He was a wit an epicure.
William Cowper (1731-1800)
English poet, author of
Olney Hymns (1779),
John
Gilpin (1782), and
The Task (1785); Cowper's delicate
mental health attracted as much sympathy from romantic readers as his letters, edited by
William Hayley, did admiration.
George Crabbe (1754-1832)
English poet renowned for his couplet verse and gloomy depictions of country persons and
places; author of the
The Village (1783),
The
Parish Register (1807),
The Borough (1810), and
Tales of the Hall (1819).
Sarah Crabbe [née Elmy] (1751-1813)
The daughter of James Elmy; she married the poet George Crabbe in 1783 after an eight
years’ engagement; in her later years she suffered from depression and insanity.
Richard Cumberland (1732-1811)
English playwright and man of letters caricatured by Sheridan as “Sir Fretful Plagiary.”
Memoirs of Richard Cumberland, written by himself was published
in two volumes (1806-07).
Dorothée, duchesse de Dino (1793-1862)
The daughter of Dorothea von Medem, Duchess of Courland, she was the lover of Talleyrand
and spouse of his nephew. In 1831 Maria Edgeworth described her as “little, and
ugly—plain, I should say.”
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)
Florentine poet, the author of the
Divine Comedy and other
works.
Thomas Denman, first baron Denman (1779-1854)
English barrister and writer for the
Monthly Review; he was MP,
solicitor-general to Queen Caroline (1820), attorney-general (1820), lord chief justice
(1832-1850). Sydney Smith commented, “Denman everybody likes.”
Charles Dickens (1812-1870)
English novelist, author of
David Copperfield and
Great Expectations.
John Dryden (1631-1700)
English poet laureate, dramatist, and critic; author of
Of Dramatick
Poesie (1667),
Absalom and Achitophel (1681),
Alexander's Feast; or the Power of Musique (1697),
The Works of Virgil translated into English Verse (1697), and
Fables (1700).
Sir Charles Lock Eastlake (1793-1865)
English painter educated at Charterhouse; he was a student of Benjamin Robert Haydon, a
member of the Plymouth Institute, and was director of the National Gallery in London
(1850-65).
Maria Edgeworth (1768-1849)
Irish novelist; author of
Castle Rackrent (1800)
Belinda (1801),
The Absentee (1812) and
Ormond (1817).
John Hume Egerton, viscount Alford (1812-1851)
The son of John Cust, first Earl Brownlow; he was educated at Eton and Magdalene College,
Cambridge and was Conservative MP for Bedfordshire (1835-51).
Mary Elliot, countess of Minto [née Brydone] (1786-1853)
The daughter of Patrick Brydone (1736-1818); in 1806 she married Gilbert Elliot,
afterwards second earl Minto. She was the granddaughter of the historian William
Robertson.
Thomas Erskine, first baron Erskine (1750-1823)
Scottish barrister who was a Whig MP for Portsmouth (1783-84, 1790-1806); after defending
the political radicals Hardy, Tooke, and Thelwall in 1794 he was lord chancellor in the
short-lived Grenville-Fox administration (1806-07).
Edward Everett (1794-1865)
American statesman educated at Harvard College; he was editor of the
North American Review (1820-24), ambassador to Great Britain (1841-45), president
of Harvard (1846-49).
Isabella Fenwick (1783-1856)
Friend and neighbor of the Wordsworths; she was the daughter of Nicholas Fenwick of
Lemminton Hall near Alnwick, and a relation of the poet Henry Taylor.
John Fitzgibbon, second earl of Clare (1792-1851)
A Harrow friend of Byron's, son of the Lord Chamberlain of Ireland; he once fought a duel
with Henry Grattan's son in response to an aspersion on his father. Lord Clare was Governor
of Bombay between 1830 and 1834.
Lady Mary Anne Forester [née Jervis] (1813 c.-1893)
The daughter of Edward Jervis, second viscount St. Vincent; she married 1) in 1840 David
Ochterlony Dyce Sombre, and 2) in 1862, George David Cecil Weld, third baron Forester. A
fine singer, she was known as “the Syren.”
Ugo Foscolo (1778-1827)
Italian poet and critic who settled in London in 1816 where he contributed essays on
Italian literature to the
Edinburgh and
Quarterly
Reviews.
Charles James Fox (1749-1806)
Whig statesman and the leader of the Whig opposition in Parliament after his falling-out
with Edmund Burke.
Charles Richard Fox (1796-1873)
The eldest son of Lord Holland, born illegitimately and thus barred from the peerage; he
was aide-de-camp to William IV, and MP for Calne (1831-32) and Tavistock (1833-34). He was
an antiquary and member of the Society of Dilettanti.
Elizabeth Fox, Lady Holland [née Vassall] (1771 c.-1845)
In 1797 married Henry Richard Fox, Lord Holland, following her divorce from Sir Godfrey
Webster; as mistress of Holland House she became a pillar of Whig society.
Henry Richard Fox, third baron Holland (1773-1840)
Whig politician and literary patron; Holland House was for many years the meeting place
for reform-minded politicians and writers. He also published translations from the Spanish
and Italian;
Memoirs of the Whig Party was published in 1852.
Lady Mary Fox [née Fitz-Clarence] (1798-1864)
The illegitimate daughter of William IV; in 1824 she married Charles Richard Fox, the
illegitimate son of Lord Holland.
Oliver Goldsmith (1728 c.-1774)
Irish miscellaneous writer; his works include
The Vicar of
Wakefield (1766),
The Deserted Village (1770), and
She Stoops to Conquer (1773).
Edward Goodall (1795-1870)
English line engraver who did work on illustrations to poems by Thomas Campbell, Thomas
Moore, and Samuel Rogers.
Frederick Goodall (1822-1904)
English painter of landscapes and genre scenes; the son of the engraver Edward Goodall,
he was elected to the Royal Academy in 1862 and published
Reminiscences (1902).
George Hamilton- Gordon, fourth earl of Aberdeen (1784-1860)
Harrow-educated Scottish philhellene who founded the Athenian Society and was elected to
the Society of Dilettanti (1805); he was foreign secretary (1841-1846) and prime minister
(1852-55).
Granville Leveson- Gower, first earl Granville (1773-1846)
English diplomat and ally of George Canning; he was ambassador to St Petersburg (1804-06,
1807) and ambassador to Paris (1824-1828). The Duchess of Devonshire described him as “the
Adonis of his day.”
Charles Cavendish Fulke Greville (1794-1865)
The son of Captain Charles Greville (1762-1832); he was educated at Eton College and at
Christ Church, Oxford, and was clerk-in-ordinary to the privy council. His famous
Diary began appearing in 1874.
John Gurwood (1790-1845)
After service in the Peninsular War he was private secretary to the Duke of Wellington;
he died a suicide.
Louisa J. Hall [née Park] (1800-1892)
The daughter of Dr. James Park of Newburyport; in 1840 she married Edward B. Hall, a
Unitarian clergyman; her dramatic poem
Miriam was published in
1837.
Henry Hallam (1777-1859)
English historian and contributor to the
Edinburgh Review, author
of
Introduction to the Literature of Europe, 4 vols (1837-39) and
other works. He was the father of Tennyson's Arthur Hallam.
William Harness (1790-1869)
A Harrow friend and early correspondent of Byron. He later answered the poet in
The Wrath of Cain (1822) and published an edition of Shakespeare
(1825) and other literary projects. Harness was a longtime friend of Mary Russell
Mitford.
Warren Hastings (1732-1818)
Governor-general of Bengal (1774-84); he was charged high crimes by Edmund Burke,
initiating impeachment proceedings that continued from 1787 to 1795, when Hastings was
acquitted.
Benjamin Robert Haydon (1786-1846)
English historical painter and diarist who recorded anecdotes of romantic writers and the
physiognomy of several in his paintings.
Abraham Hayward (1801-1884)
English barrister and essayist who contributed to the
Quarterly
Review and wrote
The Art of Dining (1852); his translation
of Goethe's
Faust was published in 1833.
Alexander Farquharson Henderson (1780-1863)
Scottish physician educated at Marischal College and Edinburgh University; he opened a
practice in Mayfair where he was a friend of Samuel Rogers and to the arts. He published
History of Ancient and Modern Wines (1824).
George Stillman Hillard (1808-1879)
Harvard-educated American lawyer and man of letters; the friend of Charles Sumner and
Nathaniel Hawthorne, he published
Six Months in Italy (1853).
Georgina Hogarth (1827-1918)
The sister-in-law, adviser, confidante, and editor of Charles Dickens; her father George
Hogarth was a legal adviser to Sir Walter Scott and her mother Georgina the daughter of the
music publisher George Thomson.
Sir Henry Holland, first baronet (1788-1873)
English physician and frequenter of Holland House, the author of
Travels in the Ionian Isles, Albania, Thessaly, Macedonia etc. during 1812 and
1813 (1814) and
Recollections of Past Life (1872). His
second wife, Saba, was the daughter of Sydney Smith.
Homer (850 BC fl.)
Poet of the
Iliad and
Odyssey.
George Howard, sixth earl of Carlisle (1773-1848)
Son of the fifth earl (d. 1825); he was educated at Eton and Christ Church, Oxford, wrote
for the
Anti-Jacobin, and was MP for Morpeth (1795-1806) and
Cumberland (1806-28).
William Howley, archbishop of Canterbury (1766-1848)
Educated at Winchester and New College, Oxford, he was regius professor of Divinity
(1809-13), bishop of London (1813-28), and archbishop of Canterbury (1828-48).
James Henry Leigh Hunt (1784-1859)
English poet, journalist, and man of letters; editor of
The
Examiner and
The Liberal; friend of Byron, Keats, and
Shelley.
Anna Brownell Jameson [née Murphy] (1794-1860)
Writer and art critic born in Dublin; she published
Shakespeare's
Heroines (1832). in 1825 she married the barrister Robert Sympson Jameson.
Joseph Jekyll (1754-1837)
Wit, politician, and barrister; he was Whig MP for Calne (1787-1816) and wrote for the
Morning Chronicle and
Evening
Statesman.
Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
English man of letters, among many other works he edited
A Dictionary
of the English Language (1755) and Shakespeare (1765), and wrote
Lives of the Poets (1779-81).
John Philip Kemble (1757-1823)
English actor renowned for his Shakespearean roles; he was manager of Drury Lane
(1783-1802) and Covent Garden (1803-1808).
Maria Theresa Kemble [née De Camp] (1777-1838)
English actress, the daughter of the musician George Lewis De Camp; she began performing
at the age of eight and married the actor Charles Kemble in 1806.
James Kenney (1780-1849)
Irish playwright, author of
The World (1808); he was a friend of
Lamb, Hunt, Moore, and Rogers.
John Kenyon (1784-1856)
Educated at Peterhouse, Cambridge, and Lincoln's Inn, he was a one-time neighbor of
Coleridge, Southey, and Wordsworth who became a London host and patron and published
several volumes of poems.
William Lamb, second viscount Melbourne (1779-1848)
English statesman, the son of Lady Melbourne (possibly by the third earl of Egremont) and
husband of Lady Caroline Lamb; he was a Whig MP, prime minister (1834-41), and counsellor
to Queen Victoria.
Karl Richard Lepsius (1810-1884)
Prussian archaeologist who made an expedition to Egypt with Champollion in 1828-1829, and
another in 1842-46.
Charles Robert Leslie (1794-1859)
American-born genre-painter who came to England in 1811 and studied with fellow-Americans
Benjamin West and Washington Allston; he published
Memoirs of the Life of
John Constable (1843).
William Lock (1767-1847)
Of Norbury Park; English painter, the son of William Lock (1732-1810); he was the pupil
of Henry Fuseli and a friend Samuel Rogers.
Henry Luttrell (1768-1851)
English wit, dandy, and friend of Thomas Moore and Samuel Rogers; he was the author of
Advice to Julia, a Letter in Rhyme (1820).
Sir Charles Lyell, first baronet (1797-1875)
Scottish geologist educated at Exeter College, Oxford; he was author of
Principles of Geology (1830-33) and
The Antiquity of Man
(1863).
Mary Lyell [née Horner] (1808 c.-1873)
The daughter of the geologist Leonard Horner and niece of Francis Horner; in 1832 she
married Charles Lyell.
Charles Mackay (1812-1889)
Scottish poet and journalist who wrote for
The Sun and the
Morning Chronicle; he published
Memoirs of
Extraordinary Popular Delusions, and the Madness of Crowds, 3 vols (1841).
Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832)
Scottish philosopher and man of letters who defended the French Revolution in
Vindiciae Gallicae (1791); he was Recorder of Bombay (1803-1812) and
MP for Knaresborough (1819-32).
William Maltby (1764-1854)
A schoolmate and life-long friend of Samuel Rogers; he was a London solicitor and a
member of the King of Clubs. In 1809 he succeeded Richard Porson as principal librarian of
the London Institution.
Jane Marcet [née Haldimand] (1769-1858)
Daughter of the Swiss banker Anthony Francis Haldimand; in 1799 she married Alexander
John Gaspard Marcet. She published scientific textbooks, works for children, and
Conversations on Political Economy (1816).
Harriet Martineau (1802-1876)
English writer and reformer; she published
Illustrations of Political
Economy, 9 vols (1832-34) and
Society in America
(1837).
Philip Martineau (1791-1860)
Solicitor and taxing master to the court of chancery married to Elizabeth Frances Batty
(d. 1875); they were friends of Samuel Rogers and the parents of the painter Robert
Braithwaite Martineau.
Thomas Miller (1807-1874)
Basket-maker, poet, and novelist; he published in
Friendship's
Offering (1838, 1839),
The Athenaeum, and the
Literary Gazette.
James Millingen (1774-1845)
Educated at Westminster, he worked at the French mint and became an authority on coins
and antiquities based in Paris and Italy; he was the father of Julius Millingen, physician
at Missolonghi.
Henry Hart Milman (1791-1868)
Educated at Eton and Brasenose College, Oxford, he was a poet, historian and dean of St
Paul's (1849) who wrote for the
Quarterly Review.
John Milton (1608-1674)
English poet and controversialist; author of
Comus (1634),
Lycidas (1638),
Areopagitica (1644),
Paradise Lost (1667), and other works.
James Montgomery (1771-1854)
English poet and editor of the
Sheffield Iris (1795-1825); author
of
The Wanderer of Switzerland (1806) and
The
World before the Flood (1813).
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
Sir Thomas More (1478-1535)
English statesman and humanist, Catholic martyr; he was the author of
Utopia (1516).
Macvey Napier (1776-1847)
Scottish barrister, editor of the
Encyclopedia Britannica, and
from 1829 editor of the
Edinburgh Review.
Emperor Napoleon I (1769-1821)
Military leader, First Consul (1799), and Emperor of the French (1804), after his
abdication he was exiled to Elba (1814); after his defeat at Waterloo he was exiled to St.
Helena (1815).
Sarah Williams Newton [née Sullivan] (1810-1892)
The daughter of William Sullivan (1774-1839); in 1832 she married the painter Gilbert
Stuart Newton; after his death in 1835 she married William F. Oakey of New York.
Andrews Norton (1786-1853)
Unitarian theologian educated at Harvard; he was Dexter Professor of Sacred Literature at
Harvard University (1819-30).
Barbara Palmer, duchess of Cleveland [née Villiers] (1640-1709)
The daughter of William Villiers, second viscount Grandison (1614-1643) and mistress of
Charles II, who granted her the title in 1670. Her sexual adventures were detailed in
Delarivier Manley's
The New Atalantis (1709).
Sir Anthony Panizzi (1797-1879)
A carbonaro who escaped to London in 1823 where he became professor of Italian at
University College London before becoming an influential librarian at the British Museum
(1831). He was a friend of Ugo Foscolo.
Edmund Phipps (1808-1857)
English barrister, son of Henry Phipps, first earl of Mulgrave; he was educated at
Trinity College, Oxford and the Inner Temple and published financial pamphlets and
The Memoirs of the Political and Literary Life of Robert Plumer
Ward, 2 vols (1850).
John Poole (1786-1872)
English comic writer and playwright; he contributed to the
London
Magazine and scored a great theatrical success with
Paul
Pry (1825). He spent his later years living impoverished in Paris.
William Hickling Prescott (1796-1859)
American historian educated at Harvard; he published
History of the
Conquest of Mexico, 3 vols (1844).
Sir Uvedale Price, first baronet (1747-1829)
Of Foxley in Herefordshire; he was educated at Eton and Christ Church, Oxford, and
published
Essay on the Picturesque (1794).
Joseph Priestley (1733-1804)
Dissenting theologian, schoolmaster, and scientist; he was author of
The History and Present State of Electricity, with Original Experiments
(1767).
Dora Quillinan [née Wordsworth] (1804-1847)
The daughter of William Wordsworth who in 1841 married the poet Edward Quillinan despite
her father's concerns about his debts.
Edward Quillinan (1791-1851)
A poet of Irish Catholic descent who pursued a military career while issuing several
volumes published by his father-in-law Edgerton Brydges; after the death of his first wife
Jemima he married Dora Wordsworth in 1841.
Cyrus Redding (1785-1870)
English journalist; he was a founding member of the Plymouth Institute, edited
Galignani's Messenger from 1815-18, and was the effective editor of
the
New Monthly Magazine (1821-30) and
The
Metropolitan (1831-33).
Henry Crabb Robinson (1775-1867)
Attorney, diarist, and journalist for
The Times; he was a founder
of the Athenaeum Club.
Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)
English poet, banker, and aesthete, author of the ever-popular
Pleasures of Memory (1792),
Columbus (1810),
Jaqueline (1814), and
Italy (1822-28).
Sarah Rogers (1772-1855)
Of Regent's Park. the younger sister of the poet Samuel Rogers; she lived with her
brother Henry in Highbury Terrace.
Margaret Roper [née More] (1505-1544)
The daughter of Sir Thomas More; she purchased the head of her father after it had been
exposed on London Bridge and was buried with it in her coffin. It was exhumed in
1824.
William Roscoe (1753-1831)
Historian, poet, and man of letters; author of
Life of Lorenzo di
Medici (1795) and
Life and Pontificate of Leo X (1805). He
was Whig MP for Liverpool (1806-1807) and edited the
Works of Pope,
10 vols (1824).
John Russell, first earl Russell (1792-1878)
English statesman, son of John Russell sixth duke of Bedford (1766-1839); he was author
of
Essay on the English Constitution (1821) and
Memoirs of the Affairs of Europe (1824) and was Prime Minister (1865-66).
William Scott, first baron Stowell (1745-1836)
English lawyer and friend of Dr. Johnson; he was MP for Oxford University (1801-21) and
judge of the high court of Admiralty (1798-1828). He was the elder brother of Lord
Eldon.
Catherine Maria Sedgwick (1789-1867)
American novelist; her works of domestic fiction include
A New England
Tale (1822),
Redwood (1824) and
Hope
Leslie (1827).
Nassau William Senior (1790-1864)
Professor of political economy at Oxford (1825-30) and author of
Outline of the Science of Political Economy (1836). He contributed to the
Quarterly Review and
Edinburgh Review.
Samuel Sharpe (1799-1881)
Banker and Egyptologist; he was the nephew of the poet Samuel Rogers and brother of the
geologist Daniel Sharpe.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley [née Godwin] (1797-1851)
English novelist, daughter of William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecaft, and the second wife
of Percy Bysshe Shelley. She is the author of
Frankenstein (1818)
and
The Last Man (1835) and the editor of Shelley's works
(1839-40).
Charles Brinsley Sheridan (1796-1843)
The son of Richard Brinsley Sheridan by his second wife Hecca; he was educated at Trinity
College, Cambridge and published
Thoughts on the Greek Revolution
(1822).
Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1809-1888)
The son of Thomas Sheridan (1775-1817); he was MP for Shaftesbury (1845-1852) and
Dorchester (1852-1868).
Sarah Siddons [née Kemble] (1755-1831)
English tragic actress, sister of John Philip Kemble, famous roles as Desdemona, Lady
Macbeth, and Ophelia. She retired from the stage in 1812.
Sir Courtenay Smith (1773-1839)
The younger brother of Sydney and Bobus Smith; educated at Winchester College, he was a
judge in India.
Sydney Smith (1771-1845)
Clergyman, wit, and one of the original projectors of the
Edinburgh
Review; afterwards lecturer in London and one of the Holland House
denizens.
William Smyth (1765-1849)
The son of a Liverpool banker, he was educated at Eton and Peterhouse, Cambridge, and was
Professor of Modern History at Cambridge (1807). He published of
English
Lyricks (1797) and
Lectures on Modern History
(1840).
Nicholas Soult (1769-1851)
Marshal of France and commander in the Peninsular War.
Robert Southey (1774-1843)
Poet laureate and man of letters whose contemporary reputation depended upon his prose
works, among them the
Life of Nelson, 2 vols (1813),
History of the Peninsular War, 3 vols (1823-32) and
The Doctor, 7 vols (1834-47).
Edmund Spenser (1552 c.-1599)
English poet, author of
The Shepheards Calender (1579) and
The Faerie Queene (1590, 1596).
Clarkson Stanfield (1793-1867)
After service in the Navy he became a scene-painter for Drury Lane and was afterwards a
marine and landscape painter and Royal Academician (1835).
Philip Henry Stanhope, fifth earl Stanhope (1805-1875)
Historian and man of letters, the son of the fourth earl; he published
The History of England from the Peace of Utrecht to the Peace of Versailles,
1713-1783, 7 vols, (1836-53).
Charles Richard Sumner, bishop of Winchester (1790-1874)
The younger brother of John Bird Sumner, archbishop of Canterbury; he was educated at
Eton and Trinity College, Cambridge; he was bishop of Llandaff and dean of St. Paul's
(1826) and bishop of Winchester (1827).
Charles Sumner (1811-1874)
American statesman; he was educated at Harvard and spent two years traveling in Europe
before making his reputation as an abolitionist senator from Massachusetts.
Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd (1795-1854)
English judge, dramatist, and friend of Charles Lamb who contributed articles to the
London Magazine and
New Monthly
Magazine.
Sir Henry Taylor (1800-1886)
Poet, writer for the
Quarterly Review, and autobiographer; he was
author of the tragedy
Philip van Artevelde (1834).
John Hamilton Thom (1808-1894)
Educated at the Belfast Academical Institution, he was the Unitarian minister at the
Renshaw Street Chapel in Liverpool and editor of
The Christian
Teacher (1838).
Anna Ticknor [née Eliot] (1800-1885)
The daughter of Samuel Eliot; in 1821 she married the American historian George
Ticknor.
George Ticknor (1791-1871)
American author and Harvard professor of modern languages who travelled extensively in
Europe 1815-19.
Sir George Pretyman Tomline, bishop of Winchester (1750-1827)
Tutor of Pitt the younger; he was dean of St. Paul's and bishop of Lincoln (1787) and
bishop of Winchester (1820-27). He adopted the name of Tomline in 1803 in connection with
an inheritance.
Colonel George Tomline (1813-1889)
Of Orwell Park, the son of William Edward Tomline and grandson and heir of George
Pretyman Tomline; he was educated at Eton where he was a contemporary of Gladstone and was
MP for Sudbury (1840-1841), Shrewsbury, (1851-1847, 1852-1868) and Great Grimsby
(1868-1874). He was one of the wealthier men in England.
Benjamin Travers (1783-1858)
Surgeon at Guy's Hospital and London Eye Infirmary; he was FRS (1813) and surgeon to
Queen Victoria. His first wife was Sarah Morgan, daughter of the actuary (and friend of
Samuel Rogers) William Morgan.
Melesina Trench [née Chenevix] (1768-1827)
Poet and correspondent of Mary Leadbeater; she was raised by her grandfather, Richard
Chenevix, bishop of Waterford, and married 1) Colonel Richard St George in 1786, and 2)
Richard Trench in 1803.
Richard Chenevix Trench, archbishop of Dublin (1807-1886)
Son of the poet Melesina Trench, educated at Harrow and Trinity College, Cambridge where
he was one of the Apostles; he was professor of divinity at King's College, London
(1847-58) and archbishop of Dublin (1864).
Sylvain Van de Weyer (1802-1874)
Belgian politician who was minster to the United Kingdom; he married Elizabeth, the only
daughter of Joshua Bates of Baring's Bank.
Virgil (70 BC-19 BC)
Roman epic poet; author of
Eclogues,
Georgics, and the
Aenead.
Daniel Webster (1782-1852)
American statesman and orator; he was a United States senator (1827-41, 1845-50) and
secretary of state (1841-43).
Frances Emma Wedgwood [née Mackintosh] (1800-1889)
The second child of Sir James Mackintosh; in 1832 she married Hensleigh Wedgwood
(1803-91), son of Josiah Wedgwood (1769-1843). She corresponded with Charles Darwin. Maria
Edgeworth described her in 1821 as “one of the best-informed and most unaffected
girls I ever knew.”
Hensleigh Wedgwood (1803-1891)
The grandson of Josiah Wedgwood, educated at Rugby and St. John's and Christ's College,
Cambridge; he worked as a police magistrate and published
Dictionary of
English Etymology (1857).
Gerald Valerian Wellesley (1809-1882)
The third son of Henry Wellesley, first Baron Cowley, and nephew of the Duke of
Wellington; he was educated at Eton and Trinity College, Cambridge and was rector of
Stratfield Saye (1836-1854) and queen Victoria's resident chaplain (1849).
Henry Wellesley, first baron Cowley (1773-1847)
The younger brother of the Duke of Wellington; he was a lieutenant-governor in India
(1801-02), MP for Eye (1807-09) secretary to the Treasury (1808-09), ambassador to Spain
(1809-22), Vienna (1823-31) and Paris (1841-46). He was created Baron Cowley in
1828.
Richard Wellesley, first marquess Wellesley (1760-1842)
The son of Garret Wesley (1735-1781) and elder brother of the Duke of Wellington; he was
Whig MP, Governor-general of Bengal (1797-1805), Foreign Secretary (1809-12), and
Lord-lieutenant of Ireland (1821-28); he was created Marquess Wellesley in 1799.
Sir Richard Westmacott (1775-1856)
English sculptor trained under Canova; he was professor of sculpture at the Royal Academy
(1827-57).
Ferdinand White (1839 fl.)
The illegitimate son of Blanco White; he was an ensign in Madras (1827) and an adjutant
in the 40th Regiment (1839).
Joseph Blanco White (1775-1841)
Emigrated to England from Seville in 1810, studied at Oxford and was tutor to Lord
Holland's son Henry; he wrote for the
New Monthly Magazine and
published on theology.
Augusta Emma D'Este Wilde (1801-1866)
The daughter of Augustus Frederick, duke of Sussex and his Catholic (and hence
illegitimate) wife Augusta Murray; in 1845 she became the second wife of Thomas Wilde,
first baron Truro.
Sir John Gardner Wilkinson (1797-1875)
Egyptologist, author of
Topography of Thebes and General View of
Egypt (1835) and other works.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
With Coleridge, author of
Lyrical Ballads (1798), Wordsworth
survived his early unpopularity to succeed Robert Southey as poet laureate in 1843.
Elizabeth Yates [née Brunton] (1799-1860)
English actress, the daughter of the actor John Brunton; she performed at Covent Garden
and Drury Lane; in 1823 she married the actor Frederic Henry Yates.
Frederick Henry Yates (1797-1842)
English actor and theater manager educated at Charterhouse; he performed with Charles
Kemble and was a partner of Charles Mathews in the Adelphi Theatre (1825-35).
Thomas Young [Ubiquity Young] (1848 fl.)
Private secretary and personal “spy” to Lord Melbourne; originally he was purser on the
Duke of Devonshire's yacht. He obtained his sobriquet by being omnipresent at social
gatherings.
Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)
Italy, a Poem. 2 vols (London: John Murray, 1823-1828). In 1828 the poem was revised and expanded into two parts; in 1830 it was elaborately
illustrated with engravings after paintings by J. M. W. Turner and Thomas Stothard.