, between the Black Knight and
the Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst.

Byron, whom I had before seen at the shooting galleries and elsewhere,
was then a very handsome man, with remarkably fine eyes and hair; but
was, as usual, all show-off and affectation. I recollect his saying
that he disliked seeing women eat, or to have their company at dinner,
from a wish to believe, if possible, in their more ethereal nature; but
he was rallied into avowing that his chief dislike to their presence at
the festive board arose from the fact of their being helped first, and
consequently getting all the wings of the chickens, whilst men had to
be content with the legs or other parts. Byron, on this occasion, was
in great good humour, and full of boyish and even boisterous mirth.

Croker was also agreeable, notwithstanding his bitter and sarcastic
remarks upon everything and everybody. The sneering, ill-natured
expression of his face, struck me as an impressive contrast to the
frank and benevolent countenance of Walter Scott.

I never assisted at a more agreeable dinner. According to the custom of
the day, we sat late; the poets, statesmen, and soldiers, all drank an
immense quantity of wine, and I for one felt the effects of it next
day. Walter Scott gave one or two recitations, in a very animated
manner, from the ballads that he had been collecting, which delighted
his auditory; and both Lord Byron and Croker added to the hilarity of
the evening by quotations from, and criticisms on the more prominent
writers of the period.

LORD BYRON

I knew very little of Lord Byron personally, but lived much with two of
his intimate friends, Scrope Davis and Wedderburn Webster; from whom I
frequently heard many anecdotes of him. I regret that I remember so
few; and wish that I had written down those told me by poor Scrope
Davis, one of the most agreeable men I ever met.

When Byron was at Cambridge, he was introduced to Scrope Davis by their
mutual friend, Matthews, who was afterwards drowned in the river Cam.
After Matthews's death, Davis became Byron's particular friend, and was
admitted to his rooms at all hours. Upon one occasion he found the
poet in bed with his hair en papillote, upon which Scrope cried, "Ha,
ha! Byron, I have at last caught you acting the part of the Sleeping
Beauty."

Byron, in a rage, exclaimed, "No, Scrope; the part of a d----d fool,
you should have said."

"Well, then, anything you please; but you have