The great poet, Lord Byron (1788-1824) spent his final two days in Britain before his exile on April 25th 1816. Taking a Dover packet, he made it across to Ostend. He was never to return to Britain, dying, eight years later, in what is part of modern day Greece. A life which was infamous at the time, the series of scandals and mishaps that led to his quick departure would take too long to recount. Even on his final night in London, bailiffs had arrived in Piccadilly Terrace where he was staying to recover debts owed to the Duchess of Devonshire.
According to one of his more recent biographers, Fiona MacCarthy in `Byron: Life and Legend’ (John Murray, London, 2002), the poet, accompanied by friends Scrope Davies, Lord John Hobhouse and a young doctor, John Polidori, quickly made their way to Dover. `Hobhouse was careful to have the coach put safely on board ship in case the bailiffs travelled south to claim that too.’ On arrival in the town, the party dined at the Ship Inn, drinking light French wines, and lodging there the night. `The curiosity surrounding Byron was so great that some ladies apparently disguised themselves as chambermaids to get a closer view of him.’ The Inn, which was demolished in 1878, was directly beside the quay. Strong winds delayed the planned sailing by a further day. Byron and his companions spent the extra time walking along the tops of the white cliffs, recalling the scene from Shakespeare’s `King Lear’ (see entry for Shakespeare). In the evening, after eating, Byron then walked to the local church of St Mary’s and paid homage to the tomb of the 18th century satirist Charles Churchill. Byron had been an admirer of Churchill’s work since a schoolboy. When shown the plot where the grave was, Byron apparently lay down atop it, and then handed the sexton looking after the church a crown to renovate it.
On the day of his sailing, the poet slept in late and almost missed the ship. As he sailed away, Hobhouse ran along the pier: `The dear fellow,’ Byron wrote, `pulled off his cap & wav’d it to me – I gazed until I could not distinguish him any longer – God bless him for a gallant spirit and a kind one.’ (Ibid)