The Lumley Autograph | Page 6

shelves of his pupil. Suddenly he paused, and his antiquarian
instincts were aroused by the sight of a sheet of paper, yellow and time
worn. He seized it with the eagerness of a book- worm, and in so doing
dropped the volume of Hollinshed alarmingly near the wig-covered
head of his youthful pupil, who with closed eyes, and open mouth, lay
reclining on a sofa below. The book, grazing the curls of the young
lord's wig, he sprang up from his nap, alive and sound, though
somewhat startled.
{Hollinshed = Raphael Holinshed (d. 1580), famous writer of British
historical chronicles, used by Shakespeare as source for some of his
plays}
"Hang it Lumley, what a rumpus you keep up among the books! You
well nigh drove that old volume into my head by a process more
summary than usual."
The learned tutor made a thousand apologies, as he descended the
ladder, but on touching the floor his delight burst forth.
"It was this paper, my lord, which made me so awkward--I have lighted
on a document of the greatest interest!"
"What is it?" asked the pupil looking askance at letter, and tutor.
"An original letter which comes to hand, just in time for my lives of the
tragedians--the volume to be dedicated to your lordship--it is a letter of
poor Otway."
{Otway = Thomas Otway (1652-1685), English playwright who wrote
a number of important tragedies in verse, but who died destitute at the
age of 33. The Coopers were familiar with his work; James Fenimore
Cooper used quotations from Otway's "The Orphan" for three chapter
heading epigraphs in his 1850 novel, "The Ways of the Hour"}
"Otway?--What, the fellow you were boring me about last night?"
"The same my lord--the poet Otway--you may remember we saw his
Venice Preserved last week. It is a highly interesting letter, written in
great distress, and confirms the story of his starvation. You see the
signature."

{Venice Preserved = a well-known play by Otway, written in 1682}
"That name, Otway?--Well, to my mind it is as much like Genghis
Khan."
"Oh, my lord!--Thomas Otway clearly--signatures are always more or
less confused.
"Well, have it your own way.--It may be Tom, Dick, or Harry for all I
care," said the youth, stretching himself preparatory to a visit to his
kennels; and such was his indifference to this literary treasure that he
readily gave it to his tutor. In those days, few lords were literary.
Mr. Lumley's delight at this discovery, was very much increased by the
fact that he was at that moment anxious to bring out an edition of the
English Tragedians of the seventeenth century. The lives of several of
these authors had been already written by him, and he was at that
moment engaged on that of Otway. A noted publisher had taken the
matter into consideration, and if the undertaking gave promise of being
both palatable to the public, and profitable to himself, a prospectus was
to be issued. Now here was a little tit-bit which the public would
doubtless relish; for it was beginning to feel some interest in Otway's
starvation, the poet having been dead half a century. It is true that the
signature of the poor starving author, whoever he may have been, was
so illegible that it required some imagination to see in it, the name of
Otway, but Mr. Lumley had enough of the true antiquarian spirit, to
settle the point to his own entire satisfaction. The note was accordingly
introduced into the life of Otway, with which the learned tutor was then
engaged. The work itself, however, was not destined to see the light; its
publication was delayed, while Mr. Lumley accompanied his pupil on
the usual continental tour, and from this journey the learned gentleman
never returned, dying at Rome, of a cold caught in the library of the
Vatican. By his will, the MS. life of Otway with all his papers, passed
into the hands of his brother, an officer in the army. Unfortunately,
however, Captain Lumley, who was by no means a literary character,
proved extremely indifferent to this portion of his brother's inheritance,
which he treated with contemptuous neglect.
After this first stage on the road to fame, twenty more years passed
away and the letter of the starving poet was again forgotten. At length
the papers of the Rev. Mr. Lumley, fell into the hands of a nephew,
who inherited his uncle's antiquarian tastes, and clerical profession. In

looking over the MSS., he came to the life of Otway, and was struck
with the letter given there, never having met with it in print; there was
also a note appended to it with an account of the manner in which it
had been discovered by the editor, in the library of Lord