The Works of Lord Byron, Volume 4 | Page 7

to Murray, dated June 27 (but? 28), 1816, does
not precisely tally with Shelley's journal contained in a letter to
Peacock, July 12, 1816 (_Prose Works of P. B. Shelley_, 1880, ii. 171,
_sq._); but, if Shelley's first date, June 23, is correct, it follows that the
two poets visited the Castle of Chillon on Wednesday, June 26, reached
Ouchy on Thursday, June 27, and began their homeward voyage on
Saturday, June 29 (Shelley misdates it June 30). On this reckoning the
_Prisoner of Chillon_ was begun and finished between Thursday, June
27, and Saturday, June 29, 1816. Whenever or wherever begun, it was
completed by July 10 (see _Memoir of John Murray_, 1891, i. 364),
and was ready for transmission to England by July 25. The MS., in
Claire's handwriting, was placed in Murray's hands on October 11, and
the poem, with seven others, was published December 5, 1816.

In a final note to the _Prisoner of Chillon_ (First Edition, 1816, p. 59),
Byron confesses that when "the foregoing poem was composed he
knew too little of the history of Bonnivard to do justice to his courage
and virtues," and appends as a note to the "Sonnet on Chillon," "some
account of his life ... furnished by the kindness of a citizen of that
Republic," i.e. Geneva. The note, which is now entitled
"Advertisement," is taken bodily from the pages of a work published in
1786 by the Swiss naturalist, Jean Senebier, who died in 1809. It was
not Byron's way to invent imaginary authorities, but rather to give his
references with some pride and particularity, and it is possible that this

unacknowledged and hitherto unverified "account" was supplied by
some literary acquaintance, who failed to explain that his information
was common property. Be that as it may, Senebier's prose is in some
respects as unhistorical as Byron's verse, and stands in need of some
corrections and additions.
François Bonivard (there is no contemporary authority for "Bonnivard")
was born in 1493. In early youth (1510) he became by inheritance Prior
of St. Victor, a monastery outside the walls of Geneva, and on reaching
manhood (1514) he accepted the office and the benefice, "la dignité
ecclésiastique de Prieur et de la Seigneurie temporelle de St. Victor." A
lover of independence, a child of the later Renaissance, in a word, a
Genevese, he threw in his lot with a band of ardent reformers and
patriots, who were conspiring to shake off the yoke of Duke Charles III.
of Savoy, and convert the city into a republic. Here is his own
testimony: "Dès que j'eus commencé de lire l'histoire des nations, je me
sentis entrainé par un goût prononcé pour les Républiques dont
j'épousai toujours les intérêts." Hence, in a great measure, the
unrelenting enmity of the duke, who not only ousted him from his
priory, but caused him to be shut up for two years at Grolée, Gex, and
Belley, and again, after he had been liberated on a second occasion,
ordered him, a safe conduct notwithstanding, to be seized and confined
in the Castle of Chillon. Here he remained from 1530 to February 1,
1536, when he was released by the Bernese.
For the first two years he was lodged in a room near the governor's
quarters, and was fairly comfortable; but a day came when the duke

paid a visit to Chillon; and "then," he writes, "the captain thrust me into
a cell lower than the lake, where I lived four years. I know not whether
he did it by the duke's orders or of his own accord; but sure it is that I
had so much leisure for walking, that I wore in the rock which was the
pavement a track or little path, as it had been made with a hammer"
(_Chroniques des Ligues_ de Stumpf, addition de Bonivard).
After he had been liberated, "par la grace de Dieu donnee a Mess^rs^
de Berne," he returned to Geneva, and was made a member of the
Council of the State, and awarded a house and a pension of two
hundred crowns a year. A long life was before him, which he
proceeded to spend in characteristic fashion, finely and honourably as
scholar, author, and reformer, but with little self-regard or self-respect
as a private citizen. He was married no less than four times, and not one
of these alliances was altogether satisfactory or creditable. Determined
"to warm both hands before the fire of life," he was prone to ignore the
prejudices and even the decencies of his fellow-citizens, now incurring
their displeasure, and now again, as one who had greatly testified for
truth and freedom, being taken back into favour and forgiven. There
was a deal of human nature in Bonivard, with the result that, at times,
conduct fell short of