Piracy_ The Intellectual Property Wars from Gutenberg to Gates - Adrian Johns [144]
GOTHIC GENIUS
Just as his twin strategies against the contemporary culture of print seemed to be reaching their culmination, Brydges found himself cast out of Parliament. Facing insupportable debts, he fled first to Paris, then on to Geneva. Apart from a lengthy poetic tour of Italy in 1819-21 and a second sojourn in Paris in 1825, Brydges resigned himself to a fitful but Romantic seclusion in the shadows of the Swiss Alps. There he worked late into each night writing endless sonnets, pamphlets, bibliographical and genealogical screeds, and self-righteous defenses of his cause in the Chandos case. Night after night he railed silently against Beltz's "impudent and libellous" demolition of his Chandos claim, his "pure wickedness," his "false representation," and so on.74 Meanwhile the Lee Priory press struggled on, finally closing its doors in 1821. Its most expert operator, Johnson, left somewhat earlier in high dudgeon.
In exile Brydges returned to his bibliographical endeavors. The "almost mechanical" enterprise of bibliography, he said, suited a wronged outcast incapable of deploying real imagination. Incapacitated from exercising genius himself, he preferred to reprint the works of others rather than resort to claiming as his own "thoughts borrowed from others." His reprints appeared in minute print runs from Naples, Florence, Rome, and Geneva. In one he "registered" more than a thousand ideas from previous centuries that in his own day were hailed as novel. In others he expostulated on the nature of genius and its neglect by a gluttonous public.75
The one intermission in this effort came from a brief but calamitous return to Lee Priory. Seeing his old haunts again made Brydges more melancholic than ever. And he embarked on a Byzantine scheme to pay off his debts that ended up ruining everyone who still tolerated him. The scheme involved Lee lands that were currently mortgaged. The mortgage was paid off, and they were sold to the bibliographer and mediocre poet Edward Quillinan. Quillinan then sold them back for three times as much, generating a paper profit of £15,ooo. This was divided