A Publisher and His Friends - Memoir and Correspondence of John Murray; with an - Account of the Origin and Progress of the House, 1768-1843 by Samuel Smiles
page 170 of 594 (28%)
page 170 of 594 (28%)
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"1815. _Friday, April_ 7.--This day Lord Byron and Walter Scott met for
the first time and were introduced by me to each other. They conversed together for nearly two hours. There were present, at different times, Mr. William Gifford, James Boswell (son of the biographer of Johnson), William Sotheby, Robert Wilmot, Richard Heber, and Mr. Dusgate." Mr. Murray's son--then John Murray, Junior--gives his recollections as follows: "I can recollect seeing Lord Byron in Albemarle Street. So far as I can remember, he appeared to me rather a short man, with a handsome countenance, remarkable for the fine blue veins which ran over his pale, marble temples. He wore many rings on his fingers, and a brooch in his shirt-front, which was embroidered. When he called, he used to be dressed in a black dress-coat (as we should now call it), with grey, and sometimes nankeen trousers, his shirt open at the neck. Lord Byron's deformity in his foot was very evident, especially as he walked downstairs. He carried a stick. After Scott and he had ended their conversation in the drawing-room, it was a curious sight to see the two greatest poets of the age--both lame--stumping downstairs side by side. They continued to meet in Albemarle Street nearly every day, and remained together for two or three hours at a time. Lord Byron dined several times at Albemarle Street, On one of these occasions, he met Sir John Malcolm--a most agreeable and accomplished man--who was all the more interesting to Lord Byron, because of his intimate knowledge of Persia and India. After dinner, Sir John observed to Lord Byron, how much gratified he had been to meet him, and how surprised he was to find him so full of gaiety and entertaining conversation. Byron replied, 'Perhaps you see me now at my best.' Sometimes, though not often, Lord Byron read passages from his poems to my father. His voice and manner |
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