57 — To John M. B. Pigot
Little Hampton, August 26, 1806.
I this morning received your epistle, which I was obliged to send for to Worthing, whence I have removed to this place, on the same coast, about eight miles distant from the former.
You
will probably not be displeased with this letter, when it informs you that I am £30,000 richer than I was at our parting, having just received intelligence from my lawyer that a cause has been gained at Lancaster assizes
, which will be worth that sum by the time I come of age. Mrs. B. is, doubtless, acquainted of this acquisition, though not apprised of its exact
value
, of which she had better be ignorant; for her behaviour under any sudden piece of favourable intelligence, is, if possible, more ridiculous than her detestable conduct on the most trifling circumstances of an unpleasant nature. You may give my compliments to her, and say that her detaining my servant's things shall only lengthen my absence: for unless they are immediately despatched to 16, Piccadilly, together with those which have been so long delayed, belonging to myself, she shall never again behold my
radiant countenance
illuminating her gloomy mansion. If they are sent, I may probably appear in less than two years from the date of my present epistle.
Metrical compliment is an ample reward for my strains: you are one of the few votaries of Apollo who unite the sciences over which that deity presides. I wish you to send my poems to my lodgings in London immediately, as I have several alterations and some additions to make;
every
copy must be sent, as I am about to
amend
them, and you shall soon behold them in all their glory. I hope you have kept them from that upas tree, that antidote to the arts, Mrs. B.
Entre nous
, — you may expect to see me soon. Adieu.
Yours ever.
Footnote 1:
Byron was disappointed in his expectations. Fresh legal difficulties arose, and Newstead had to be sold before they were settled (see page 78,
2).
