‘How very good of you, dear Mr. Hodgson! I intend showing the letter to B., as Ithinkhe will jump at seeing you just now, but Imustsee you first;and how? I am now going to Mr. Hanson’s from B. I’m afraid of your meeting people here whodo no good, and would counteract yours; but will you call about two, or after that, and ask formefirst? I shall be home, I hope, andmustsee you. If I’m out ask for Capt. B.‘Yours sincerely,‘A. L.’‘Friday evening, 9 o’clock.‘Dear Mr. Hodgson,‘I’ve been unable to write to you till this moment. Mr. H.[67]stayed till a late hour, and is now here again. B. dined with me, and after I left the room I sent your note in, thinking him in better spirits and more free from irritations. He has only just mentioned it to me: “Oh, by-the-by, I’ve had a note from H., Augusta, whom you must write to, and say I’m so full of domestic calamities that I can’t see anybody.” Still, I think hewillsee you if he hears you are here, or that even it would be better, if the worst came to the worst, to let the servant announce you and walk in. Can you call here about eleven to-morrow morning, when he will not be up, or scarcely awake, and Capt. B., you, and I, can hold a council on what is best to be done? The fact is, he is nowafraidof everybody who would tell him the truth. It is a most dreadful situation, dear Mr. H.! The worst is, thatifyou said you have done so-and-so, etc., he would deny it; and I see he is afraid ofyour despair, as he terms it, when you hear of his situation, and, in short, of your telling him the truth. He can only bear to see those who flatter him and encourage him to all that is wrong. I’ve not mentioned having seen you, because I wish him to suppose your opinions unprejudiced. Youmustsee him; and pray see me and George B. to-morrow morning, when we will consult upon the best means. You are the only comfort I’ve had this long time. I’m quite of your opinion on all that is to be feared.‘Ever yours truly,‘A. L.’‘Piccadilly Terrace.‘Dear Mr. H.,‘About three you will be sure of finding me, if not sooner. I’ve sent in your letter; he said in return I was to do what I pleased about it. Ithinkandhopehe will find comfort in seeing you.‘Yours truly,‘A. L.’‘Saturday.‘Dear Mr. H.,‘B. will see you. I saw him open your note, and said I had given his message this morning, when I had seen you and talked generally on the subject of his present situation, of which you had before heard. He replied, “Oh, then, tell him I will see him, certainly; my reason fornotwas the fear of distressing him.” You had better call towards three, and wait if he is not yet out of his room. Mr. Hanson has sent for me in consequence (probably) of your interview. I’m going to him about three with Capt. B., but have said nothing to B. of this.‘Ever yours,‘A. L.’
‘How very good of you, dear Mr. Hodgson! I intend showing the letter to B., as Ithinkhe will jump at seeing you just now, but Imustsee you first;and how? I am now going to Mr. Hanson’s from B. I’m afraid of your meeting people here whodo no good, and would counteract yours; but will you call about two, or after that, and ask formefirst? I shall be home, I hope, andmustsee you. If I’m out ask for Capt. B.
‘Yours sincerely,‘A. L.’
‘Friday evening, 9 o’clock.
‘Dear Mr. Hodgson,
‘I’ve been unable to write to you till this moment. Mr. H.[67]stayed till a late hour, and is now here again. B. dined with me, and after I left the room I sent your note in, thinking him in better spirits and more free from irritations. He has only just mentioned it to me: “Oh, by-the-by, I’ve had a note from H., Augusta, whom you must write to, and say I’m so full of domestic calamities that I can’t see anybody.” Still, I think hewillsee you if he hears you are here, or that even it would be better, if the worst came to the worst, to let the servant announce you and walk in. Can you call here about eleven to-morrow morning, when he will not be up, or scarcely awake, and Capt. B., you, and I, can hold a council on what is best to be done? The fact is, he is nowafraidof everybody who would tell him the truth. It is a most dreadful situation, dear Mr. H.! The worst is, thatifyou said you have done so-and-so, etc., he would deny it; and I see he is afraid ofyour despair, as he terms it, when you hear of his situation, and, in short, of your telling him the truth. He can only bear to see those who flatter him and encourage him to all that is wrong. I’ve not mentioned having seen you, because I wish him to suppose your opinions unprejudiced. Youmustsee him; and pray see me and George B. to-morrow morning, when we will consult upon the best means. You are the only comfort I’ve had this long time. I’m quite of your opinion on all that is to be feared.
‘Ever yours truly,‘A. L.’
‘Piccadilly Terrace.
‘Dear Mr. H.,
‘About three you will be sure of finding me, if not sooner. I’ve sent in your letter; he said in return I was to do what I pleased about it. Ithinkandhopehe will find comfort in seeing you.
‘Yours truly,‘A. L.’
‘Saturday.
‘Dear Mr. H.,
‘B. will see you. I saw him open your note, and said I had given his message this morning, when I had seen you and talked generally on the subject of his present situation, of which you had before heard. He replied, “Oh, then, tell him I will see him, certainly; my reason fornotwas the fear of distressing him.” You had better call towards three, and wait if he is not yet out of his room. Mr. Hanson has sent for me in consequence (probably) of your interview. I’m going to him about three with Capt. B., but have said nothing to B. of this.
‘Ever yours,‘A. L.’
Immediately after the interview, which took place on the day after the last note was written, Hodgson, feeling that nothing could be lost and that much might be gained by judicious remonstrance, resolved to hazard an appeal to Lady Byron’s feelings—with what success will be seen from her ladyship’s reply. It is impossible to over-estimate the combined tact and zeal displayed by Hodgson in this most delicate and difficult matter.
‘Whether I am outstepping the bounds of prudence in this address to your ladyship I cannot feel assured; and yet there is so much at stake in a quarter so loved and valuable that I cannot forbear running the risk, and making one effort more to plead a cause which your ladyship’s own heart must plead with a power sosuperior to all other voices. If, then, a word that is here said only adds to the pain of this unhappy conflict between affection and views of duty, without lending any weight of reason to the object it seeks, I would earnestly implore that it may be forgiven; and, above all, the interference itself, which nothing but its obvious motive and the present awful circumstance could in any way justify.‘After a long and most confidential conversation with my friend (whom I have known thoroughly, I believe, for many trying years), I am convinced that the deep and rooted feeling in his heart is regret and sorrow for the occurrences which have so deeply wounded you; and the most unmixed admiration of your conduct in all its particulars, and the warmest affection. But may I be allowed to state to Lady Byron that Lord B., after his general acknowledgment of having frequently been very wrong, and, from various causes, in a painful state of irritation, yet declares himself ignorant of the specific things which have given the principal offence, and that he wishes to hear of them; that he may, if extenuation or atonement be possible, endeavour to make some reply; or, at all events, may understand the fulness of those reasons which have now, and as unexpectedly as afflictingly, driven your ladyship to the step you have taken?‘It would be waste of words and idle presumption for me, however your ladyship’s goodness might be led to excuse it, to observe how very extreme, how decidedly irreconcilable, such a case should be, before the last measure is resorted to. But it may not be quite so improper to urge, from my deep conviction of their truth and importance, the following reflections. I entreat your ladyship’s indulgence to them. What can be the consequence, to a man so peculiarly constituted, of such an event? If I may give vent to my fear, my thorough certainty, nothing short of absolute and utter destruction. I turn from the idea; butnobeing except your ladyship can prevent this.None, I am thoroughly convinced, ever could have done so, notwithstanding the unhappy appearances to the contrary. Whatever, then, may be against it, whatever restraining remembrances or anticipations, to a personwho was not already qualified by sad experience to teach this very truth, I would say that thereisa claim paramount to all others—that of attempting to save the human beings nearest and dearest to us from the most comprehensive ruin that can be suffered by them, at the expense of any suffering to ourselves.‘If I have not gone too far, I would add that so suddenly and at once to shut every avenue to returning comfort must, when looked back upon, appear a strong measure; and, if it proceeds (pray pardon the suggestion) from the unfortunate notion of the very person to whom my friend now looks for consolation being unable to administer it, that notion I would combat with all the energy of conviction; and assert, that whatever unguarded and unjustifiable words, and even actions, may have inculcated this idea, it is the very rock on which the peace of both would, as unnecessarily as wretchedly, be sacrificed. But God Almighty forbid that there should be any sacrifice. Be all that is right called out into action, all that is wrong suppressed (and by your only instrumentality, Lady Byron, as by yours only it can be) in my dear friend. May you both yet be what God intended you for: the support, the watchful correction, and improvement, of each other! Of yourself, Lord B. from his heart declares that he would wish nothing altered—nothing but that sudden, surely sudden, determination which mustfor everdestroy one of you, and perhaps even both. God bless both!‘I am, with deep regard,‘Your ladyship’s faithful servant,‘Francis Hodgson.’
‘Whether I am outstepping the bounds of prudence in this address to your ladyship I cannot feel assured; and yet there is so much at stake in a quarter so loved and valuable that I cannot forbear running the risk, and making one effort more to plead a cause which your ladyship’s own heart must plead with a power sosuperior to all other voices. If, then, a word that is here said only adds to the pain of this unhappy conflict between affection and views of duty, without lending any weight of reason to the object it seeks, I would earnestly implore that it may be forgiven; and, above all, the interference itself, which nothing but its obvious motive and the present awful circumstance could in any way justify.
‘After a long and most confidential conversation with my friend (whom I have known thoroughly, I believe, for many trying years), I am convinced that the deep and rooted feeling in his heart is regret and sorrow for the occurrences which have so deeply wounded you; and the most unmixed admiration of your conduct in all its particulars, and the warmest affection. But may I be allowed to state to Lady Byron that Lord B., after his general acknowledgment of having frequently been very wrong, and, from various causes, in a painful state of irritation, yet declares himself ignorant of the specific things which have given the principal offence, and that he wishes to hear of them; that he may, if extenuation or atonement be possible, endeavour to make some reply; or, at all events, may understand the fulness of those reasons which have now, and as unexpectedly as afflictingly, driven your ladyship to the step you have taken?
‘It would be waste of words and idle presumption for me, however your ladyship’s goodness might be led to excuse it, to observe how very extreme, how decidedly irreconcilable, such a case should be, before the last measure is resorted to. But it may not be quite so improper to urge, from my deep conviction of their truth and importance, the following reflections. I entreat your ladyship’s indulgence to them. What can be the consequence, to a man so peculiarly constituted, of such an event? If I may give vent to my fear, my thorough certainty, nothing short of absolute and utter destruction. I turn from the idea; butnobeing except your ladyship can prevent this.None, I am thoroughly convinced, ever could have done so, notwithstanding the unhappy appearances to the contrary. Whatever, then, may be against it, whatever restraining remembrances or anticipations, to a personwho was not already qualified by sad experience to teach this very truth, I would say that thereisa claim paramount to all others—that of attempting to save the human beings nearest and dearest to us from the most comprehensive ruin that can be suffered by them, at the expense of any suffering to ourselves.
‘If I have not gone too far, I would add that so suddenly and at once to shut every avenue to returning comfort must, when looked back upon, appear a strong measure; and, if it proceeds (pray pardon the suggestion) from the unfortunate notion of the very person to whom my friend now looks for consolation being unable to administer it, that notion I would combat with all the energy of conviction; and assert, that whatever unguarded and unjustifiable words, and even actions, may have inculcated this idea, it is the very rock on which the peace of both would, as unnecessarily as wretchedly, be sacrificed. But God Almighty forbid that there should be any sacrifice. Be all that is right called out into action, all that is wrong suppressed (and by your only instrumentality, Lady Byron, as by yours only it can be) in my dear friend. May you both yet be what God intended you for: the support, the watchful correction, and improvement, of each other! Of yourself, Lord B. from his heart declares that he would wish nothing altered—nothing but that sudden, surely sudden, determination which mustfor everdestroy one of you, and perhaps even both. God bless both!
‘I am, with deep regard,‘Your ladyship’s faithful servant,‘Francis Hodgson.’
Lady Byron’s answer was as follows:
‘Kirkby,‘February 15, 1816.‘Dear Sir,‘I feel most sensibly the kindness of a remonstrance which equally proves your friendship for Lord Byron and consideration for me. I have declined all discussion of this subject with others, but my knowledge of your principles induces me to justify my own;and yet I would forbear to accuse as much as possible.‘I married Lord B. determined to endure everything whilst there wasanychance of my contributing to his welfare. I remained with him under trials of the severest nature. In leaving him, which, however, I can scarcely call avoluntarymeasure, I probably saved him from the bitterest remorse. I may give you a general idea of what I have experienced by saying that he married me with the deepest determination of Revenge, avowed on the day of my marriage, and executed ever since with systematic and increasing cruelty, which no affection could change.... My security depended on the total abandonment of every moral and religious principle, against which (though I trust they were never obtruded) his hatred and endeavours were uniformly directed.... The circumstances, which are of too convincing a nature, shall not be generally known whilst Lord B. allows me to spare him. It is not unkindness that can always change affection.‘With you I may consider this subject in a less worldly point of view. Is the present injury to his reputation to be put in competition with the danger of unchecked success to this wicked pride? and may not his actual sufferings (in which, be assured, that affection for me has very little share) expiate a future account? I know him too well to dread the fatal event which he so often mysteriously threatens. I have acquired my knowledge of him bitterly indeed, and it was long before I learned to mistrust the apparent candour by which he deceives all but himself. Hedoesknow—too well—what he affects to inquire. You reason with me as I have reasoned with myself, and I therefore derive from your letter an additional and melancholy confidence in the rectitude of this determination, which has been deliberated on the grounds that you would approve. It was not suggested, and has not been enforced, by others; though it is sanctioned by my parents.‘You will continue Lord Byron’s friend, and the time may yet come when he will receive from that friendship such benefits as he now rejects. I will even indulge the consolatory thought that the remembranceof me, when time has softened the irritation created by my presence, may contribute to the same end. May I hope that you will still retain any value for the regard with which I am,‘Your most obliged and faithful servant,‘A. I. Byron.’‘I must add that Lord Byron had been fully, earnestly, and affectionately warned of the unhappy consequences of his conduct.’
‘Kirkby,‘February 15, 1816.
‘Dear Sir,
‘I feel most sensibly the kindness of a remonstrance which equally proves your friendship for Lord Byron and consideration for me. I have declined all discussion of this subject with others, but my knowledge of your principles induces me to justify my own;and yet I would forbear to accuse as much as possible.
‘I married Lord B. determined to endure everything whilst there wasanychance of my contributing to his welfare. I remained with him under trials of the severest nature. In leaving him, which, however, I can scarcely call avoluntarymeasure, I probably saved him from the bitterest remorse. I may give you a general idea of what I have experienced by saying that he married me with the deepest determination of Revenge, avowed on the day of my marriage, and executed ever since with systematic and increasing cruelty, which no affection could change.... My security depended on the total abandonment of every moral and religious principle, against which (though I trust they were never obtruded) his hatred and endeavours were uniformly directed.... The circumstances, which are of too convincing a nature, shall not be generally known whilst Lord B. allows me to spare him. It is not unkindness that can always change affection.
‘With you I may consider this subject in a less worldly point of view. Is the present injury to his reputation to be put in competition with the danger of unchecked success to this wicked pride? and may not his actual sufferings (in which, be assured, that affection for me has very little share) expiate a future account? I know him too well to dread the fatal event which he so often mysteriously threatens. I have acquired my knowledge of him bitterly indeed, and it was long before I learned to mistrust the apparent candour by which he deceives all but himself. Hedoesknow—too well—what he affects to inquire. You reason with me as I have reasoned with myself, and I therefore derive from your letter an additional and melancholy confidence in the rectitude of this determination, which has been deliberated on the grounds that you would approve. It was not suggested, and has not been enforced, by others; though it is sanctioned by my parents.
‘You will continue Lord Byron’s friend, and the time may yet come when he will receive from that friendship such benefits as he now rejects. I will even indulge the consolatory thought that the remembranceof me, when time has softened the irritation created by my presence, may contribute to the same end. May I hope that you will still retain any value for the regard with which I am,
‘Your most obliged and faithful servant,‘A. I. Byron.’
‘I must add that Lord Byron had been fully, earnestly, and affectionately warned of the unhappy consequences of his conduct.’
It is most unfortunate that the second letter which Hodgson wrote on this most distressing occasion is lost, but some clue to its contents may be gathered from Lady Byron’s reply:
‘February 24, 1816.‘Dear Sir,‘I have received your second letter. First let me thank you for the charity with which you consider my motives; and now of the principal subject.‘I eagerly adopted the belief on insanity as a consolation; and though such malady has been found insufficient to prevent his responsibility with man, I will still trust that it may latently exist, so as to acquit him towards God. This no human being can judge. It certainly does not destroy the powers of self-control, or impair the knowledge of moral good and evil. Considering the case upon the supposition of derangement, you may have heard, what every medical adviser would confirm, that it is in the nature of such malady to reverse the affections, and to make those who would naturally be dearest, the greatest objects of aversion, the most exposed to acts of violence, and the least capable of alleviating the malady. Upon such grounds my absence from Lord B. was medically advised before I left Town. But the advisers had not then seen him, and since Mr. Le Mann has had opportunities of personal observation, it has been found that the supposed physical causes do not exist so as to render him not an accountable agent.‘I believe the nature of Lord B.’s mind to be most benevolent. But there may have been circumstances(I would hope theconsequences, not thecauses, of mental disorder) which would render an original tenderness of conscience the motive of desperation—even of guilt—when self-esteem had been forfeitedtoo far. Noexternalmotive can be so strong. Goodness of heart—when there are impetuous passions and no principles—is a frail security.‘Every possible means have been employed to effect a private and amicable arrangement; and I would sacrifice such advantages in terms as, I believe, the law would insure to me, to avoid this dreadful necessity. Yet I must have somesecurity, and Lord B. refuses to afford any. If you could persuade him to the agreement, you would save me from what I most deprecate. I have now applied to Lord Holland for that end.‘If you wish to answer—and I shall always be happy to hear from you—I must request you to enclose your letter to my father, Sir Ralph Noel, Mivart’s Hotel, Lower Brook Street, London, as I am not sure where I may be at that time. My considerations of duty are of a very complicated nature; for my duty as a mother seems to point out the same conduct as I pursue upon other principles that I have partly explained.‘I must observe upon one passage of your letter that Ihad(sic) expectations of personal violence, though I was too miserable to havefeelingsof fear, and those expectations would now be still stronger.‘In regard to any change which the future state of Lord B.’s mind might justify in my intentions, an amicable arrangement would not destroy the opening for reconciliation. Pray endeavour to promote the dispositions to such an arrangement; there is every reason to desire it.‘Yours very truly,‘A. I. Byron.’
‘February 24, 1816.
‘Dear Sir,
‘I have received your second letter. First let me thank you for the charity with which you consider my motives; and now of the principal subject.
‘I eagerly adopted the belief on insanity as a consolation; and though such malady has been found insufficient to prevent his responsibility with man, I will still trust that it may latently exist, so as to acquit him towards God. This no human being can judge. It certainly does not destroy the powers of self-control, or impair the knowledge of moral good and evil. Considering the case upon the supposition of derangement, you may have heard, what every medical adviser would confirm, that it is in the nature of such malady to reverse the affections, and to make those who would naturally be dearest, the greatest objects of aversion, the most exposed to acts of violence, and the least capable of alleviating the malady. Upon such grounds my absence from Lord B. was medically advised before I left Town. But the advisers had not then seen him, and since Mr. Le Mann has had opportunities of personal observation, it has been found that the supposed physical causes do not exist so as to render him not an accountable agent.
‘I believe the nature of Lord B.’s mind to be most benevolent. But there may have been circumstances(I would hope theconsequences, not thecauses, of mental disorder) which would render an original tenderness of conscience the motive of desperation—even of guilt—when self-esteem had been forfeitedtoo far. Noexternalmotive can be so strong. Goodness of heart—when there are impetuous passions and no principles—is a frail security.
‘Every possible means have been employed to effect a private and amicable arrangement; and I would sacrifice such advantages in terms as, I believe, the law would insure to me, to avoid this dreadful necessity. Yet I must have somesecurity, and Lord B. refuses to afford any. If you could persuade him to the agreement, you would save me from what I most deprecate. I have now applied to Lord Holland for that end.
‘If you wish to answer—and I shall always be happy to hear from you—I must request you to enclose your letter to my father, Sir Ralph Noel, Mivart’s Hotel, Lower Brook Street, London, as I am not sure where I may be at that time. My considerations of duty are of a very complicated nature; for my duty as a mother seems to point out the same conduct as I pursue upon other principles that I have partly explained.
‘I must observe upon one passage of your letter that Ihad(sic) expectations of personal violence, though I was too miserable to havefeelingsof fear, and those expectations would now be still stronger.
‘In regard to any change which the future state of Lord B.’s mind might justify in my intentions, an amicable arrangement would not destroy the opening for reconciliation. Pray endeavour to promote the dispositions to such an arrangement; there is every reason to desire it.
‘Yours very truly,‘A. I. Byron.’
It is worthy of note that Lady Byron,two days after her interview with Lushington, here states that, in the event of ‘an amicable arrangement’ (an amicable separation) being arrived at, it would not destroy the opening for reconciliation. This is an extraordinarystatement, because, as we have seen, Dr. Lushington absolutely declined to be a party to any such step. On March 14 Lady Byron signed a declaration, giving her reasons for the separation, as will be seen presently.
On March 16 Augusta Leigh returned to her apartments in St. James’s Palace, and on the following day Byron consented to a separation from his wife. On April 8 Lady Jersey gave a party in honour of Byron, and to show her sympathy for him in his matrimonial troubles. Both Byron and Augusta were present, but it was a cold and spiritless affair, and nothing came of this attempt to stem the tide of prejudice.
On April 14 Augusta parted for ever from her brother, and retired into the country, her health broken down by the worry and anxiety of the past three months. On April 21 and 22, 1816, the deed of separation was signed by both Lord and Lady Byron. On April 23 Byron left London, and travelled to Dover accompanied by his friends Hobhouse and Scrope-Davies. On the 25th he embarked for Ostend, unable to face the consequences of his quarrel with his wife.
‘To his susceptible temperament and generous feelings,’ says his schoolfellow Harness, ‘the reproach of having ill-used a woman must have been poignant in the extreme. It was repulsive to his chivalrous character as a gentleman; it belied all he had written of the devoted fervour of his attachments; and rather than meet the frowns and sneers which awaited him in the world, as many a less sensitive man might have done, he turned his back on them and fled.’
‘To his susceptible temperament and generous feelings,’ says his schoolfellow Harness, ‘the reproach of having ill-used a woman must have been poignant in the extreme. It was repulsive to his chivalrous character as a gentleman; it belied all he had written of the devoted fervour of his attachments; and rather than meet the frowns and sneers which awaited him in the world, as many a less sensitive man might have done, he turned his back on them and fled.’
The publication of ‘Astarte’ has had one good result; it has placed beyond question the precise nature of Lady Byron’s complaints against her husband. On March 14, 1816, Lady Byron was induced by Dr. Lushington to draw up and sign a statement which would be useful if her conduct should at any future time be criticized.
We place the entire document before the reader, just as it appears in Lord Lovelace’s book:
‘STATEMENT.—A. L.‘In case of my death to be given to Colonel Doyle.A. I. Byron,Thursday, March 14, 1816.’‘During the year that Lady Byron lived under the same roof with Lord B. certain circumstances occurred, and some intimations were made, which excited a suspicion in Lady B.’s mind that an improper connection had at one time, and might even still, subsist between Lord B. and Mrs. L——.[68]The causes, however, of this suspicion did not amount to proof, and Lady Byron did not consider herself justified in acting upon these suspicions by immediately quitting Lord B.’s house, for the following reasons:‘First and principally, because the causes of suspicion, though they made a strong impression upon her mind,did not amount to positive proof, and Lady B. considered, that whilst a possibility of innocence existed, every principle of duty and humanity forbad her to act as if Mrs. Leigh was actually guilty, more especially as any intimation of so heinous a crime, even if not distinctly proved, must have seriously affected Mrs. L.’s character and happiness.‘Secondly, Lady B. had it not in her power to pursue a middle course; it was utterly impossible for her to remove Mrs. L. from the society and roof of Lord B. except by a direct accusation.‘Thirdly, because Mrs. L. had from her first acquaintance with Lady B. always manifested towards her the utmost kindness and attention, endeavouring as far as laid in her power to mitigate the violence and cruelty of Lord B.‘Fourthly, because Mrs. L. at times exhibited signs of a deep remorse; at least so Lady B. interpreted them to be, though she does not mean to aver that the feelings Mrs. L. then showed were signs of remorse for the commission of the crime alluded to, or any other of so dark a description.‘And, lastly, because Lady B. conceived it possible that the crime, if committed, might not only be deeply repented of, but never have been perpetrated since her marriage with Lord B.‘It was from these motives, and strongly inclining to a charitable interpretation of all that passed, that Lady B. never during her living with Lord B. intimated a suspicion of this nature. Since Lady B.’s separation from Lord B. the report has become current in the world of such a connection having subsisted. This report was not spread nor sanctioned by Lady B. Mrs. L.’s character has, however, been to some extent affected thereby. Lady B. cannot divest her mind of the impressions before stated; but anxious to avoid all possibility of doing injury to Mrs. L., and not by any conduct of her own to throw any suspicion upon Mrs. L., and it being intimated that Mrs. L.’s character can never be so effectually preserved as by a renewal of intercourse with Lady B., she does for the motives and reasons before mentioned consent to renew that intercourse.‘Now, this statement is made in order to justifyLady B. in the line of conduct she has now determined to adopt, and in order to prevent all misconstruction of her motives in case Mrs. L. should be proved hereafter to be guilty; and, if any circumstances should compel or render it necessary for Lady B. to prefer the charge, in order that Lady B. may be at full liberty so to do without being prejudiced by her present conduct.‘It is to be observed that this paper does not contain nor pretends to contain any of the grounds which gave rise to the suspicion which has existed and still continues to exist in Lady B.’s mind.‘We whose names are hereunto subscribed are of opinion, that under all the circumstances above stated, and also from our knowledge of what has passed respecting the conduct of all parties mentioned, that the line now adopted by Lady B. is strictly right and honourable, as well as just towards Mrs. L., and Lady B. ought not, whatever may hereafter occur, to be prejudiced thereby.‘Robt. John Wilmot.F. H. Doyle.Stephen Lushington.(Signed by each.)‘London,March 14, 1816.’
‘STATEMENT.—A. L.
‘In case of my death to be given to Colonel Doyle.
A. I. Byron,Thursday, March 14, 1816.’
‘During the year that Lady Byron lived under the same roof with Lord B. certain circumstances occurred, and some intimations were made, which excited a suspicion in Lady B.’s mind that an improper connection had at one time, and might even still, subsist between Lord B. and Mrs. L——.[68]The causes, however, of this suspicion did not amount to proof, and Lady Byron did not consider herself justified in acting upon these suspicions by immediately quitting Lord B.’s house, for the following reasons:
‘First and principally, because the causes of suspicion, though they made a strong impression upon her mind,did not amount to positive proof, and Lady B. considered, that whilst a possibility of innocence existed, every principle of duty and humanity forbad her to act as if Mrs. Leigh was actually guilty, more especially as any intimation of so heinous a crime, even if not distinctly proved, must have seriously affected Mrs. L.’s character and happiness.
‘Secondly, Lady B. had it not in her power to pursue a middle course; it was utterly impossible for her to remove Mrs. L. from the society and roof of Lord B. except by a direct accusation.
‘Thirdly, because Mrs. L. had from her first acquaintance with Lady B. always manifested towards her the utmost kindness and attention, endeavouring as far as laid in her power to mitigate the violence and cruelty of Lord B.
‘Fourthly, because Mrs. L. at times exhibited signs of a deep remorse; at least so Lady B. interpreted them to be, though she does not mean to aver that the feelings Mrs. L. then showed were signs of remorse for the commission of the crime alluded to, or any other of so dark a description.
‘And, lastly, because Lady B. conceived it possible that the crime, if committed, might not only be deeply repented of, but never have been perpetrated since her marriage with Lord B.
‘It was from these motives, and strongly inclining to a charitable interpretation of all that passed, that Lady B. never during her living with Lord B. intimated a suspicion of this nature. Since Lady B.’s separation from Lord B. the report has become current in the world of such a connection having subsisted. This report was not spread nor sanctioned by Lady B. Mrs. L.’s character has, however, been to some extent affected thereby. Lady B. cannot divest her mind of the impressions before stated; but anxious to avoid all possibility of doing injury to Mrs. L., and not by any conduct of her own to throw any suspicion upon Mrs. L., and it being intimated that Mrs. L.’s character can never be so effectually preserved as by a renewal of intercourse with Lady B., she does for the motives and reasons before mentioned consent to renew that intercourse.
‘Now, this statement is made in order to justifyLady B. in the line of conduct she has now determined to adopt, and in order to prevent all misconstruction of her motives in case Mrs. L. should be proved hereafter to be guilty; and, if any circumstances should compel or render it necessary for Lady B. to prefer the charge, in order that Lady B. may be at full liberty so to do without being prejudiced by her present conduct.
‘It is to be observed that this paper does not contain nor pretends to contain any of the grounds which gave rise to the suspicion which has existed and still continues to exist in Lady B.’s mind.
‘We whose names are hereunto subscribed are of opinion, that under all the circumstances above stated, and also from our knowledge of what has passed respecting the conduct of all parties mentioned, that the line now adopted by Lady B. is strictly right and honourable, as well as just towards Mrs. L., and Lady B. ought not, whatever may hereafter occur, to be prejudiced thereby.
‘Robt. John Wilmot.F. H. Doyle.Stephen Lushington.(Signed by each.)
‘London,March 14, 1816.’
One month later, on April 14, Byron writes a letter to his wife, who was staying at an hotel in London, in which he says that he has just parted from Augusta:
‘Almost the last being you had left me to part with, and the only unshattered tie of my existence.... If any accident occurs to me—be kind toher,—if she is then nothing—to her children. Some time ago I informed you that, with the knowledge that any child of ours was already provided for by other and better means, I had made my will in favour of her and her children—as prior to my marriage; this was not done in prejudice to you, for we had not then differed—and even this is useless during your life by the settlements. I say, therefore, be kind to her and hers, for never has she acted or spoken otherwise towards you. She hasever been your friend; this may seem valueless to one who has now so many. Be kind to her, however, and recollect that, though it may be an advantage to you to have lost your husband, it is sorrow to her to have the waters now, or the earth hereafter, between her and her brother. She is gone. I need hardly add that of this request she knows nothing.’
‘Almost the last being you had left me to part with, and the only unshattered tie of my existence.... If any accident occurs to me—be kind toher,—if she is then nothing—to her children. Some time ago I informed you that, with the knowledge that any child of ours was already provided for by other and better means, I had made my will in favour of her and her children—as prior to my marriage; this was not done in prejudice to you, for we had not then differed—and even this is useless during your life by the settlements. I say, therefore, be kind to her and hers, for never has she acted or spoken otherwise towards you. She hasever been your friend; this may seem valueless to one who has now so many. Be kind to her, however, and recollect that, though it may be an advantage to you to have lost your husband, it is sorrow to her to have the waters now, or the earth hereafter, between her and her brother. She is gone. I need hardly add that of this request she knows nothing.’
There are two points in this letter which deserve notice. In the first place Byron intimates that he has made a will in favour of Augusta andher children, as prior to his marriage. This would insure that Medora would be amply provided for. In addition to this, Byron had already given his sister £3,000 in May, 1814, within one month of Medora’s birth. In reply to her scruples, Byron writes: ‘Consider the children, and my Georgina in particular—in short, I need say no more.’
In the second place, we appeal to any unprejudiced person whether it is likely that Byron would have made to his wife an especial appeal on behalf of Augusta, if he had not had a clear conscience as to his relations with her? That he had a clear conscience cannot be doubted, and Augusta never hesitated in private intercourse with Lady Byron to speak on that painful subject. To quote Lord Lovelace:
‘On all these occasions, one subject, uppermost in the thoughts of both, had been virtually ignored, except that Augusta had had the audacity to name the reports about herself “with the pride of innocence,” as it is called.’
‘On all these occasions, one subject, uppermost in the thoughts of both, had been virtually ignored, except that Augusta had had the audacity to name the reports about herself “with the pride of innocence,” as it is called.’
Augusta tried to make Lady Byron speak out, and say that she did not believe the reports against her, but in vain. Lady Byron, having once conceived a notion of Augusta’s guilt, would not change her opinion, and was far too honest to dissemble. Shefound refuge in flight, not daring to show to Augusta the letters which had been abstracted from Byron’s desk by Mrs. Clermont. In vain Mrs. Villiers and Wilmot urged Lady Byron to avow to Augusta the information of which they were in possession. Lady Byron would not produce her so-called ‘proofs,’ and said that ‘she would experience pain in throwing off a person she had loved, and from whom she had received kindness.’
But Lady Byron, conscious of her false position, had recourse to her pen, and wrote a letter to Augusta telling her all that she knew. We are told that Augusta did not attempt to deny the accusation, and admitted everything in her letters of June, July, and August, 1816.
Lord Lovelace coolly says:
‘It is unnecessary to produce these letters here, as their contents are confirmed and made sufficiently clear by the correspondence of 1819, given in another chapter.’
‘It is unnecessary to produce these letters here, as their contents are confirmed and made sufficiently clear by the correspondence of 1819, given in another chapter.’
We are further told in a footnote (p. 155) that the late Sir Leslie Stephen said it made him quite uncomfortable to read Mrs. Leigh’s letters of humiliation dated 1816. One would have supposed, after such a flourish of trumpets, that Lord Lovelace would have produced those letters! He does nothing of the kind, and expects posterity to accept hisex-partestatements without reserve. Lord Lovelace bids us to believe that it was ‘from the best and kindest motives, and long habit of silence, that Dr. Lushington’s influence was exerted in 1869, to prevent, or at least postpone, revelation.’ The fact is, of course, he kept silence because he well knew that there was nothing in those letters (1813 and 1814) to fix guilt upon Mrs. Leigh.Lady Byron herself has told us that ‘the causes of her suspiciondid not amount to proof, and Lady Byron did not consider herself justified in acting upon these suspicions.’ She further states that ‘the possibility of innocence existed,’ but that
‘Mrs. Leigh, at times, exhibited signs of deep remorse;at least so Lady Byron interpreted them to be, though she does not mean to aver that the feelings Mrs. Leigh then showed were signs of remorse for the commission of the crime alluded to, or any other of so dark a description.’
‘Mrs. Leigh, at times, exhibited signs of deep remorse;at least so Lady Byron interpreted them to be, though she does not mean to aver that the feelings Mrs. Leigh then showed were signs of remorse for the commission of the crime alluded to, or any other of so dark a description.’
But Lady Byron, under Lushington’s skilful hand, protects herself against the possibility of legal proceedings for defamation of character by these words:
‘This paper does not contain, nor pretend to contain, any of the grounds which give riseto the suspicionwhich has existed, and still continues to exist, in Lady Byron’s mind. Her statement is made in order to justify Lady Byron ...in case Mrs. Leigh should be proved hereafter to be guilty.’
‘This paper does not contain, nor pretend to contain, any of the grounds which give riseto the suspicionwhich has existed, and still continues to exist, in Lady Byron’s mind. Her statement is made in order to justify Lady Byron ...in case Mrs. Leigh should be proved hereafter to be guilty.’
As this statement was made after Lady Byron’s interview with Dr. Lushington (when he decided to take no part in any attempt at reconciliation), it is perfectly clear that the alleged incriminating letters were not considered as conclusive evidence against Mrs. Leigh. Although they were sufficient to detach Lushington from the party of reconciliation, it was not considered wise to produce them as evidence in 1869, at a time when a strong revulsion of feeling had set in against Lady Byron.
The clear legal brain of Sir Alexander Cockburn, trained to appraise evidence, saw through the flimsy pretext which had deceived an equally great lawyer. Time instructs us, and much has come to light in thisso-called ‘Byron mystery,’ since Lady Byron beguiled Lushington. Among other things, we now know, on Lord Lovelace’s authority, that Lady Byron was afraid that her child would be taken from her by Byron, and placed under the care of Mrs. Leigh. We also know, on the authority of Hobhouse,[69]that Lady Byron’s representatives distinctly disavowed, on Lady Byron’s behalf, having spread any rumours injurious to Lord Byron’s character in that respect, and also stated that a charge of incest would not have been made part of her allegations if she had come into court. This disavowal was signed by Lady Byron herself, and was witnessed by Mr. Wilmot. It is certain that Lord Byron would have gone into a court of law to meet that charge, and that he refused to agree to a separation until that assurance had been given. This grave charge was still in abeyance in 1816; it was not safe to speak of it until after Byron’s death, and then only under the seal of secrecy.
‘Upon one contingency only,’ wrote Sir Francis Doyle in 1830—‘namely, the taking from Lady Byron of her child, and placing her under the care of Mrs. Leigh—would the disclosure have been made of Lady Byron’s grounds forsuspectingMrs. Leigh’s guilt.’
‘Upon one contingency only,’ wrote Sir Francis Doyle in 1830—‘namely, the taking from Lady Byron of her child, and placing her under the care of Mrs. Leigh—would the disclosure have been made of Lady Byron’s grounds forsuspectingMrs. Leigh’s guilt.’
It was evident that Lady Byron was clutching at straws to save her child from Mrs. Leigh, and to prevent this it was essential to prove Mrs. Leigh’s unworthiness. In her maternal anxiety she stuck at nothing, and for a time she triumphed. Her private correspondence was drenched with the theme that had impressed Lushington so strongly.
A fortnight after signing her ‘statement,’ LadyByron writes to Mrs. George Lamb, in reference to Mrs. Leigh:
‘I am glad that you think ofherwith the feelings of pity which prevail in my mind, and surely if inminethere must be some cause for them. I never was, nor ever can be, somercilesslyvirtuous as to admitnoexcuse for even the worst of errors.’
‘I am glad that you think ofherwith the feelings of pity which prevail in my mind, and surely if inminethere must be some cause for them. I never was, nor ever can be, somercilesslyvirtuous as to admitnoexcuse for even the worst of errors.’
Such letters go perilously near that charge which Lady Byron’s representatives had repudiated in the presence of Hobhouse. But Lady Byron was desperate, and her whole case depended on a general belief in that foul accusation. What could not be done openly could be done secretly, and she poisoned the air to save her child.
Colonel Doyle, who seems to have been one of the few on Lady Byron’s side who kept his head, wrote to her on July 9, 1816:
‘I see the possibility of a contingency under which the fullest explanation of the motives and grounds of your conduct may be necessary; I therefore implore of you to suffer no delicacy to interfere with your endeavouring to obtain the fullestadmissionof the fact. If you obtain an acknowledgment of the facts and that your motives be, as you seem to think, properly appreciated, I think on the whole we shall have reason to rejoice that you have acted as you have done, but I shall be very anxious to have a more detailed knowledge of what has passed, and particularly of the state in which you leave it. The step you have taken was attended with great risk, and I could not, contemplating the danger to which it might have exposed you, have originally advised it.‘If, however, your correspondence has produced an acknowledgment of the fact even previous to your marriage, I shall be most happy that it has taken place.’
‘I see the possibility of a contingency under which the fullest explanation of the motives and grounds of your conduct may be necessary; I therefore implore of you to suffer no delicacy to interfere with your endeavouring to obtain the fullestadmissionof the fact. If you obtain an acknowledgment of the facts and that your motives be, as you seem to think, properly appreciated, I think on the whole we shall have reason to rejoice that you have acted as you have done, but I shall be very anxious to have a more detailed knowledge of what has passed, and particularly of the state in which you leave it. The step you have taken was attended with great risk, and I could not, contemplating the danger to which it might have exposed you, have originally advised it.
‘If, however, your correspondence has produced an acknowledgment of the fact even previous to your marriage, I shall be most happy that it has taken place.’
Colonel Doyle, by no means easy in his own mind, again writes to Lady Byron on July 18, 1816:
‘I must recommend you to act as if a time might possibly arise when it would be necessary for you to justify yourself, though nothing short of an absolute necessity so imperative as to be irresistible could ever authorize your advertence to your present communications. Still, I cannot dismiss from my mind the experience we have had, nor so far forget the very serious embarrassment we were under from the effects of your too confiding disposition, as not to implore you to bear in mind the importance of securing yourself from eventual danger.‘This is my first object, and if that be attained, I shall approve and applaud all the kindness you can show [to Mrs. Leigh].’
‘I must recommend you to act as if a time might possibly arise when it would be necessary for you to justify yourself, though nothing short of an absolute necessity so imperative as to be irresistible could ever authorize your advertence to your present communications. Still, I cannot dismiss from my mind the experience we have had, nor so far forget the very serious embarrassment we were under from the effects of your too confiding disposition, as not to implore you to bear in mind the importance of securing yourself from eventual danger.
‘This is my first object, and if that be attained, I shall approve and applaud all the kindness you can show [to Mrs. Leigh].’
Here, then, we have a picture of the state of affairs limned by a man who was an accomplice of Lady Byron’s, and who was fully awake to the danger of their position in the event of Byron turning round upon them. The husband might insist upon Lady Byron explaining the grounds of her conduct. In order to make their position secure, it would be, above all things, necessary to obtain a full confession from Mrs. Leigh of her criminal intercourse with Byron. With this end in view, Lady Byron opened a correspondence with Augusta Leigh, and tried to inveigle her into making an admission of her guilt. It was not an easy matter to open the subject, but Lady Byron was not abashed, and, under cover of sundry acts of kindness, tried hard to gain her point. In this game of foils Augusta showed remarkable skill, and seems to have eventually fooled Lady Byron to the top of her bent. No wonder, then, that Mrs. Leigh, accused of an abominable crime by her sister-in-law, should have written to a friend:
‘None can knowhow muchI have suffered from this unhappy business—and, indeed, I have never known a moment’s peace, and begin to despair for the future.’
‘None can knowhow muchI have suffered from this unhappy business—and, indeed, I have never known a moment’s peace, and begin to despair for the future.’
Lady Byron and her friends plied Mrs. Leigh with questions, hoping to gain a confession which would justify their conduct. Lady Noel strongly and repeatedly warned Lady Byron against Mrs. Leigh, who, like a wounded animal, was dangerous. ‘Take care of Augusta,’ she wrote September 7, 1816. ‘If I know anything of human nature, shedoesand musthate you.’
As a matter of fact, Augusta, while pretending contrition for imaginary sins, revenged herself upon Lady Byron by heightening her jealousy, and encouraging her in the belief that Byron had not only been her lover, but was still appealing to her from abroad. She even went so far as to pretend that she was going to join him, which nearly frightened Mrs. Villiers out of her wits. They lied to Augusta profusely, these immaculate people, and had the meanness to tell her that Byron had betrayed her in writing to two or three women. They probably wished to cause a breach between brother and sister, but Augusta, who pretended to be alarmed by this intelligence, laughed in her sleeve. She knew the truth, and saw through these manœuvres; it was part of her plan to keep Lady Byron on a false scent. ‘I cannot believe my brother to have been so dishonourable,’ was her meek rejoinder, meaning, of course, that it would have been dishonourable for Byron to have defamed one who, having taken his child under her protection, had saved the honour of the woman whom he loved. But Lady Byron regarded Mrs. Leigh’s answer as an admission of guilt, and trumpeted the news to all her friends. Lord Lovelace tells us that Augusta, on August 5, 1816, wrote to Lady Byron a letter, in which she asserted most solemnly that Byron had not been herfriend, and that, though there were difficulties in writing to him, she was determined never to see him again in the way she had done. It is remarkable that the letter to which Lord Lovelace refers is not given in ‘Astarte,’ where one would naturally expect to find it. In order to gauge the impression made upon Augusta’s mind, the reader will do well to consult the letters which she wrote a little later to the Rev. Francis Hodgson, in which she speaks of Byron with the greatest affection.
‘And now for our old subject, dear B. I wonder whether you have heard from him? The last to me was from Geneva, sending me a short but most interesting journal of an excursion to the Bernese Alps. He speaks of his health asverygood, but, alas! his spirits appear wofully the contrary. I believe, however, that he does not write in that strain to others. Sometimes I venture to indulge a hope that what I wish most earnestly for him may be working its way in his mind. Heaven grant it!’
‘And now for our old subject, dear B. I wonder whether you have heard from him? The last to me was from Geneva, sending me a short but most interesting journal of an excursion to the Bernese Alps. He speaks of his health asverygood, but, alas! his spirits appear wofully the contrary. I believe, however, that he does not write in that strain to others. Sometimes I venture to indulge a hope that what I wish most earnestly for him may be working its way in his mind. Heaven grant it!’
In another letter to Hodgson she speaks of Ada, and says:
‘The bulletins of the poor child’s health, by Byron’s desire, pass through me, and I’m very sorry for it, and that I ever had any concern in this most wretched business. I can’t, however, explain all my reasons at this distance, and must console myself by the consciousness of having done my duty, and, to the best of my judgment, all I could for the happiness ofboth.’
‘The bulletins of the poor child’s health, by Byron’s desire, pass through me, and I’m very sorry for it, and that I ever had any concern in this most wretched business. I can’t, however, explain all my reasons at this distance, and must console myself by the consciousness of having done my duty, and, to the best of my judgment, all I could for the happiness ofboth.’
At a time when Byron was accused of having ‘betrayed his sister in writing to two or three women,’ he was writing that well-known stanza in ‘Childe Harold’:
‘But there was one soft breast, as hath been said,Which unto his was bound by stronger tiesThan the Church links withal; and though unwed,Yet it was pure—and, far above disguise,Had stood the test of mortal enmitiesStill undivided, and cemented moreBy peril, dreaded most in female eyes;But this was firm, and from a foreign shoreWell to that heart might his these absent greetings pour.’
And it was in July, 1816, that Augusta’s loyalty to him and to Mary Chaworth moved Byron to write his celebrated ‘Stanzas to Augusta’:
‘Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted,It shrunk not to share it with me,And the Love which my spirit hath paintedIt never hath found but inThee.’‘Though human, thou didst notbetrayme;Though tempted, thou never couldst shake.’
Lord Lovelace claims to have found the key of the Byron mystery in ‘Manfred,’ and employs it as a damning proof against Augusta, with what justice we have seen.
At the time when ‘Manfred’ was begun Mary Chaworth was temporarily insane. The anxiety which she had undergone at the time of Byron’s matrimonial quarrels, when she feared that a public inquiry might disclose her own secret, affected her health. She bore up bravely until after Byron’s departure from England; then, the strain relieved, her mind gave way, and she lived for some time in London, under the care of a doctor. Her illness was kept as secret as possible, but Augusta, who was constantly at her side, informed Byron of her condition.
There has of late years been a disposition on the part of Byron’s biographers unduly to disparage Moore’s ‘Life of Byron.’ Tastes have changed, and Moore’s patronizing style of reference to ‘his noble friend the noble poet’ does not appeal to the democratic sentiment now prevailing. But, after allowance has been made for Moore’s manner, it cannot be denied that, in consequence of his personal intimacy with Byron, his work must always have a peculiar value and authority. There are, for instance, portions of Moore’s ‘Life’ which are indispensable to those who seek to fathom the depths of Byron’s mind. Moore says that Byron was born with strong affections and ardent passions, and that his life was
‘one continued struggle between that instinct of genius, which was for ever drawing him back into the lonely laboratory of self, and those impulses of passion, ambition, and vanity, which again hurried him off into the crowd, and entangled him in its interests.’
‘one continued struggle between that instinct of genius, which was for ever drawing him back into the lonely laboratory of self, and those impulses of passion, ambition, and vanity, which again hurried him off into the crowd, and entangled him in its interests.’
Moore assures us that most of Byron’s so-called love-affairs were as transitory as the imaginings that gave them birth.
‘It may be questioned,’ says Moore, ‘whether his heart had ever much share in such passions. Actual objects there were, in but too great number, who, aslong as the illusion continued, kindled up his thoughts and were the themes of his song. But they were little more than mere dreams of the hour.There was but one love that lived unquenched through all’—Byron’s love for Mary Chaworth.
‘It may be questioned,’ says Moore, ‘whether his heart had ever much share in such passions. Actual objects there were, in but too great number, who, aslong as the illusion continued, kindled up his thoughts and were the themes of his song. But they were little more than mere dreams of the hour.There was but one love that lived unquenched through all’—Byron’s love for Mary Chaworth.
Every other attachment faded away, but that endured to the end of his stormy life.
In speaking of Byron’s affection for his sister, Moore, who knew all that had been said against Augusta Leigh and Byron, and had read the ‘Memoirs,’ remarked:
‘In a mind sensitive and versatile as [Byron’s], long habits of family intercourse might have estranged, or at least dulled, his natural affection for his sister; but their separation during youth left this feeling fresh and untired. That he was himself fully aware of this appears from a passage in one of his letters: “My sister is in Town, which is a great comfort; for, never having been much together, we are naturally more attached to each other.” His very inexperience in such ties made the smile of a sister no less a novelty than a charm to him; and before the first gloss of this newly awakened sentiment had time to wear off, they were again separated, and for ever.’
‘In a mind sensitive and versatile as [Byron’s], long habits of family intercourse might have estranged, or at least dulled, his natural affection for his sister; but their separation during youth left this feeling fresh and untired. That he was himself fully aware of this appears from a passage in one of his letters: “My sister is in Town, which is a great comfort; for, never having been much together, we are naturally more attached to each other.” His very inexperience in such ties made the smile of a sister no less a novelty than a charm to him; and before the first gloss of this newly awakened sentiment had time to wear off, they were again separated, and for ever.’
When the parting came it was bitter indeed, for she was, says Moore,
‘almost the only person from whom he then parted with regret. Those beautiful and tender verses, “Though the day of my destiny’s over,” were now his parting tribute to her who, through all this bitter trial, had been his sole consolation.’
‘almost the only person from whom he then parted with regret. Those beautiful and tender verses, “Though the day of my destiny’s over,” were now his parting tribute to her who, through all this bitter trial, had been his sole consolation.’
Enough has been said to show what kind of woman Augusta was, and it is difficult to understand by what process of reasoning Lord Lovelace persuaded himself that she could have been guilty of the atrocious crime which he lays to her charge. We entirely concurwith Mrs. Villiers, when she wrote to Augusta Leigh (in September, 1816): ‘I consider you the victim to the most infernal plot that has ever entered the heart of man to conceive.’
We must at the same time frankly admit that Augusta, in order to screen Mary Chaworth, did all she could do to keep Lady Byron under a false impression. She seems to have felt so secure in the knowledge of her own innocence that she might afford to allow Lady Byron to think as ill of her as she pleased.
Unfortunately, Augusta, having once entered upon a course of duplicity, was obliged to keep it up by equivocations of all kinds. She went so far as even to show portions of letters addressed to her care, and pretended that they had been written to herself. She seems to have felt no compunction for the sufferings of Lady Byron. She may even have exulted in the pain she inflicted upon that credulous lady, having herself suffered intensely through the false suspicions, and the studied insults heaped upon her by many of Lady Byron’s adherents.
Byron, who was informed of what had been said against his sister by Lady Byron and others, told the world in ‘Marino Faliero’ that he ‘had only one fount of quiet left, andthatthey poisoned.’ But he was powerless to interfere.
Writing to Moore (September 19, 1818) he said:
‘I could have forgiven the dagger or the bowl—anything but the deliberate desolation piled upon me, when I stood alone upon my hearth, with my household gods shivered around me. Do you suppose I have forgotten it? It has, comparatively, swallowed up in me every other feeling, and I am only a spectator upon earth till a tenfold opportunity offers.’
‘I could have forgiven the dagger or the bowl—anything but the deliberate desolation piled upon me, when I stood alone upon my hearth, with my household gods shivered around me. Do you suppose I have forgotten it? It has, comparatively, swallowed up in me every other feeling, and I am only a spectator upon earth till a tenfold opportunity offers.’
It may be that Augusta avenged her brother tenfold without his knowledge. But she suffered in the process. Lord Lovelace lays great stress upon what he calls ‘the correspondence of 1819,’ in order to show us that Augusta had confessed to the crime of incest. That correspondence is very interesting, not as showing the guilt of Augusta Leigh, but as an example of feminine duplicity in which she was an adept. Augusta was hard pressed indeed for some weapon of offence when she pretended, on June 25, 1819, that she had received the following letter from her brother. She must have been some time in making up her mind to send it, as the letter in question had been in her hands three weeks, having arrived in London on June 4. It may be as well to state that all letters written by Byron to Mary Chaworth passed through Mrs. Leigh’s hands, and were delivered with circumspection.