Too late you may droop o'er the fond recollection,
And sigh for the friend who was formerly yours."
The following description of what he felt after leaving Harrow, when
he encountered in the world any of his old school-fellows, falls far
short of the scene which actually occurred but a few years before his
death in Italy,--when, on meeting with his friend, Lord Clare, after a
long separation, he was affected almost to tears by the recollections
which rushed on him.
"If chance some well remember'd face,
Some old companion of my early race,
Advance to claim his friend with honest joy,
My eyes, my heart proclaim'd me yet a boy;
The glittering scene, the fluttering groups around,
Were all forgotten when my friend was found."
It will be seen, by the extracts from his memorandum-book, which I
have given, that Mr. Peel was one of his contemporaries at Harrow; and
the following interesting anecdote of an occurrence in which both were
concerned, has been related to me by a friend of the latter gentleman,
in whose words I shall endeavour as nearly as possible to give it.
While Lord Byron and Mr. Peel were at Harrow together, a tyrant, some
few years older, whose name was ----, claimed a right to fag little
Peel, which claim (whether rightly or wrongly I know not) Peel
resisted. His resistance, however, was in vain:-- ---- not only
subdued him, but determined also to punish the refractory slave; and
proceeded forthwith to put this determination in practice, by
inflicting a kind of bastinado on the inner fleshy side of the boy's
arm, which, during the operation, was twisted round with some degree
of technical skill, to render the pain more acute.
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