Byron: The Last Phase Part 36

'The health of my daughter Allegra, the cold season, and the length of the journey, induce me to postpone for some time a purpose (never very willing on my part) to revisit Great Britain.

'You can address to me at Venice as usual. Wherever I may be in Italy, the letter will be forwarded. I enclose to you all that long hair on account of which you would not go to see my picture. You will see that it was not so very long. I curtailed it yesterday, my head and hair being weakly after my tertian.

'I wrote to you not very long ago, and, as I do not know that I could add anything satisfactory to that letter, I may as well finish this.

In a letter to Murray I requested him to apprise you that my journey was postponed; but here, there, and everywhere, know me

'Yours ever and very truly, 'B.'

It is ridiculous to suppose that these two letters were addressed to the same person. In the one we find the expression of an imperishable attachment, in the other merely commonplace statements. In the first letter Byron says, if ever he returns to England, it will be to see the person to whom he is writing, and that absence has the more deeply confirmed his pa.s.sion. In the second he tells the lady that he has had his hair cut, and that he was never very willing to revisit Great Britain! And yet, in spite of these inconsistencies, Lady Byron walked into the snare which Augusta had so artfully prepared. In forwarding the amatory epistle to Lady Byron, Augusta tells her to burn it, and says that her brother 'must surely be considered a maniac' for having written it, adding, with adroit mystification:

'_I_ do not believe any feelings expressed are by any means permanent--only occasioned by the pa.s.sing and present reflection and occupation of writing _to the unfortunate Being to whom they are addressed_.'

Augusta did not tell Lady Byron that 'the unfortunate Being' was Mary Chaworth, now reconciled to her husband, and that she had withheld Byron's letter from her, lest her mind should be unsettled by its perusal.

Mrs. Leigh had two excellent reasons for this betrayal of trust. In the first place, she wished Lady Byron to believe that her brother was still making love to her, and that she was keeping her promise in not encouraging his advances. In the second place, she knew that the terms of Byron's letter would deeply wound Lady Byron's pride--and revenge is sometimes sweet!

Lady Byron, who was no match for her sister-in-law, had failed to realize the wisdom of her mother's warning: 'Beware of Augusta, for she _must_ hate you.' She received this proof of Augusta's return to virtue with grat.i.tude, thanked her sincerely, and acknowledged that the terms of Byron's letter 'afforded ample testimony that she had not encouraged his tenderness.' Poor Lady Byron! She deserves the pity of posterity. But she was possessed of common sense, and knew how to play her own hand fairly well. She wrote to Augusta in the following terms:

'This letter is a proof of the prior "reformation," which was sufficiently evidenced to _me_ by your own a.s.sertion, and the agreement of circ.u.mstances with it. _But, in case of a more unequivocal disclosure on his part than has yet been made_, this letter would confute those false accusations to which you would undoubtedly be subjected from others.'

In suggesting a more open disclosure on Byron's part, Lady Byron angled for further confidences, so that her evidence against her husband might be overwhelming. She hoped that his repentant sister might be able to show incriminating letters, which would support the clue found in those missives which Mrs. Clermont had 'conveyed.' How little did she understand Augusta Leigh! Never would she have a.s.sisted Lady Byron to prejudice the world against her brother, nor would she have furnished Lady Byron with a weapon which might at any moment have been turned against herself.

With the object of proving Augusta's guilt, the whole correspondence between her and Lady Byron from June 27, 1819, to the end of the following January has been printed in 'Astarte.'

We have carefully examined it without finding anything that could convict Augusta and Byron. It seems clear that Mrs. Leigh began this correspondence with an ulterior object in view. She wished to win back Lady Byron's confidence, and to induce her to make some arrangement by which the Leigh children would benefit at Lady Byron's death, in the event of Byron altering the will he had already made in their favour. She began by asking Lady Byron's advice as to how she was to answer the 'Dearest Love' letter. Lady Byron gave her two alternatives. Either she must tell her brother that, so long as his idea of her was a.s.sociated with the most guilty feelings, it was her duty to break off all communication; or, if Augusta did not approve of that plan, then it was her duty to treat Byron's letter with the silence of contempt. To this excellent advice Augusta humbly replied that, if she were to reprove her brother for the warmth of his letter, he might be mortally offended, in which case her children, otherwise unprovided for, would fare badly. But Mrs. Leigh was too diplomatic to convey that meaning in plain language. Writing June 28, 1819, she says:

'I will tell you what _now_ pa.s.ses in my mind. As to the _gentler_ expedient you propose, I certainly lean to it, as the least offensive; but, supposing he suspects the motive, and is piqued to answer: "I wrote you such a letter of such a date: did you receive it?" What then is to be done? I could not reply falsely--and might not that line of conduct, acknowledged, irritate? This consideration would lead me, perhaps preferably, to adopt the other, as most open and honest (certainly to any other character but his), but query whether it might not be most judicious as to its effects; _and_ at the same time acknowledging that his victim was wholly in his power, as to temporal good,[76] and leaving it to his generosity whether to use that power or not. There seem so many reasons why he should for his own sake abstain _for the present_ from _gratifying_ his revenge, that one can scarcely think he would do so--unless _insane_. It would surely be ruin to all his prospects, and those of a pecuniary nature are not indifferent if others are become so.

'If really and truly he feels, or fancies he feels, that pa.s.sion he professes, I have constantly imagined he might suppose, from his experience of the _weakness_ of disposition of the unfortunate object, that, driven from every other hope or earthly prospect, she might fly to _him_! and that as long as he was impressed with that idea he would persevere in his projects. But, if he considered _that_ hopeless, he might desist, for otherwise he must lose everything _but his revenge_, and what good would _that_ do him?

'After all, my dearest A., if you cannot calculate the probable consequences, how should I presume to do so! To be sure, the gentler expedient might be the safest, with so violent and irritable a disposition, and at least _for a time_ act as a _palliative_--and who knows what changes a little time might produce or how Providence might graciously interpose! With so many reasons to wish to avoid extremities (I mean for the sake of others), one leans to what appears the _safest_, and one is a coward.

'But the other at the same time has something gratifying to one's feelings--and I think might be said and done--so that, if he showed the letters, it would be no evidence against _the_ person; and worded with that kindness, and appearance of real affectionate concern for _him_ as well as the other person concerned, that it _might_ possibly touch him. Pray think of what I have _thought_, and write me a line, not to decide, for that I cannot expect, but to tell me if I deceived myself in the ideas I have expressed to you. I shall not, _cannot_ answer till the _latest_ post-day this week.

'I know you will forgive me for this infliction, and may G.o.d bless you for that, and every other kindness.'

We do not remember ever to have read a letter more frankly disingenuous than this. The duplicity lurking in every line shows why the cause of the separation between Lord and Lady Byron has been for so long a mystery.

Lady Byron herself was mystified by Augusta Leigh. It certainly was not easy for Lady Byron to gauge the deep deception practised upon her by both her husband and Mrs. Leigh; and yet it is surprising that Lady Byron should not have suspected, in Augusta's self-depreciation, an element of fraud. Was it likely that Augusta, who had good reason to hate Lady Byron, would have provided her with such d.a.m.ning proofs against her brother and herself, if she had not possessed a clear conscience in the matter? She relied implicitly upon Byron's letter being destroyed, and so worded her own that it would be extremely difficult for anyone but Lady Byron to understand what she was writing about. It will be noticed that no names are mentioned in any of her missives. People are referred to either as 'maniacs,' 'victims,' 'unfortunate objects,' or as 'that most detestable woman, your relation by marriage,' which, in a confidential communication to a sister-in-law, would be superfluous caution were she really sincere.

But, after the separation period, Mrs. Leigh was never sincere in her intercourse with Lady Byron. Through that lady's unflattering suspicions, Augusta had suffered 'too much to be forgiven.' Lady Byron, on the other hand, with very imperfect understanding of her sister-in-law's character, was entirely at her mercy. To employ a colloquialism, the whole thing was a 'blind,' devised to support Augusta's role as a repentant Magdalen; to attract compa.s.sion, perhaps even pecuniary a.s.sistance; and, above all, to s.h.i.+eld the mother of Medora. The _ruse_ was successful. Lady Byron saw a chance of eventually procuring, in the handwriting of her husband, conclusive evidence of his crime. In her letter of June 27, 1819, to Mrs.

Leigh, she conveyed a hint that Byron might be lured to make 'a more unequivocal disclosure than has yet been made.'

Lady Byron, it must be remembered, craved incessantly for doc.u.mentary proofs, which might be produced, if necessary, to justify her conduct. It is significant that at the time of writing she possessed no evidence, except the letters which Mrs. Clermont had purloined from Byron's writing-desk, and these were p.r.o.nounced by Lus.h.i.+ngton to be far from conclusive.

Mrs. Leigh seems to have enjoyed the wrigglings of her victim on the hook.

'Decision was never my forte,' she writes to Lady Byron: 'one ought to act _right_, and leave the issue to Providence.'

The whole episode would be intensely comical were it not so pathetic. As might have been expected, Lady Byron eventually suffered far more than the woman she had so cruelly wounded. Augusta seems coolly to suggest that her brother might 'out of revenge' (because his sister acted virtuously?) publish to the world his incestuous intercourse with her! Could anyone in his senses believe such nonsense? Augusta hints that then Lady Byron would be able to procure a divorce; and, as Lady Noel was still alive, Byron would not be able to partic.i.p.ate in that lady's fortune at her death.

The words, 'There seem so many reasons why he should for his own sake abstain _for the present_ from gratifying his revenge ... it would surely be ruin to all his prospects,' are plain enough. Even if there had been anything to disclose, Byron would never have wounded that sister who stood at his side at the darkest hour of his life, who had sacrificed herself in order to screen his love for Mary Chaworth, and who was his sole rock of refuge in this stormy world. But it was necessary to show Lady Byron that she was standing on the brink 'of a precipice.'

'On the subject of the mortgage,' writes Augusta, 'I mean to decline that wholly; and pray do me the justice to believe that one thought of the interests of my children, as far as _that_ channel is concerned, never crosses my mind. I have entreated--I believe more than once--that the will might be altered. [Oh, Augusta!] But if it is not--as far as I understand the matter--there is not the slightest probability of their ever deriving any benefit. Whatever my feelings, dear A., I a.s.sure you, never in my life have I looked to advantage of _that_ sort. I do not mean that I have any merit in not doing it--but that I have no inclination, therefore nothing to struggle with. I trust my babes to Providence, and, provided they are _good_, I think, perhaps, _too little_ of the rest.'

It is plain that Augusta was getting nervous about her brother's attachment to the Guiccioli, a liaison which might end in trouble; and if that lady was avaricious (which she was not) Byron might be induced to alter his will (made in 1815), by which he left all _his_ share in the property to Augusta's children. With a mother's keen eye to their ultimate advantage, she tried hard to make their position secure, so that, in the event of Byron changing his mind, Lady Byron might make suitable provision for them. It was a prize worth playing for, and she played the game for all it was worth. 'Leaving her babes to Providence' was just the kind of sentiment most likely to appeal to Lady Byron who did, in a measure, respond to Augusta's hints. In a letter (December 23, 1819) Lady Byron writes:

'With regard to your pecuniary interests ... I am aware that the interests of your children may _rightly_ influence your conduct when guilt is not incurred by consulting them. However, your children cannot, I trust, under any circ.u.mstances, be left dest.i.tute, for reasons which I will hereafter communicate.'

There was at this time a strong probability of Byron's return to England.

Lady Byron tried to extract from Augusta a promise that she would not see him. Augusta fenced with the question, until, when driven into a corner, she was compelled to admit that it would be unnatural to close the door against her brother. Lady Byron was furious:

'I do not consider you bound to me in any way,' she writes. 'I told you what I knew, because I thought that measure would enable me to befriend you--and chiefly by representing the objections to a renewal of personal communication between you and him.... We must, _according to your present intentions_, act independently of each other. On my part it will still be with every possible consideration for you and your children, and should I, by your reception of him, be obliged to relinquish my intercourse with you, I will do so in such manner as shall be least prejudicial to your interests. I shall most earnestly wish that the results of your conduct may tend to establish your peace, instead of aggravating your remorse. But, entertaining these views of your duty and my own, could I in honesty, or in friends.h.i.+p, suppress them?'

It might have been supposed that Lady Byron, in 1816, after Augusta's so-called 'confession,' would have kept her secret inviolate. That had been a condition precedent; without it Augusta would not have ventured to deceive even Lady Byron. It appears from the following note, written by Lady Byron to Mrs. Villiers, that Augusta's secret had been confided to the tender mercies of that lady. On January 26, 1820, Lady Byron writes:

'I am reluctant to give you _my_ impression of what has pa.s.sed between Augusta and me, respecting her conduct in case of his return; but I should like to know whether your unbia.s.sed opinion, _formed from the statement of facts_, coincided with it.'

Verily, Augusta had been playing with fire!

CHAPTER V

On December 31, 1819, Byron wrote a letter to his wife. The following is an extract:

'Augusta can tell you all about me and mine, if you think either worth the inquiry. The object of my writing is to come. It is this: I saw Moore three months ago, and gave to his care a long Memoir, written up to the summer of 1816, of my life, which I had been writing since I left England. It will not be published till after my death; and, in fact, it is a Memoir, and not "Confessions." I have omitted the most important and decisive events and pa.s.sions of my existence, not to compromise others. But it is not so with the part you occupy, which is long and minute; and I could wish you to see, read, and mark any part or parts that do not appear to coincide with the truth. The truth I have always stated--but there are two ways of looking at it, and your way may be not mine. I have never revised the papers since they were written. You may read them and mark what you please. I wish you to know what I think and say of you and yours. You will find nothing to flatter you; nothing to lead you to the most remote supposition that we could ever have been--or be happy together. But I do not choose to give to another generation statements which we cannot arise from the dust to prove or disprove, without letting you see fairly and fully what I look upon you to have been, and what I depict you as being. If, seeing this, you can detect what is false, or answer what is charged, do so; _your mark_ shall not be erased. You will perhaps say, _Why_ write my life? Alas! I say so too. But they who have traduced it, and blasted it, and branded me, should know that it is they, and not I, are the cause. It is no great pleasure to have lived, and less to live over again the details of existence; but the last becomes sometimes a necessity, and even a duty. If you choose to see this, you may; if you do not, you have at least had the option.'

The receipt of this letter gave Lady Byron the deepest concern, and, in the impulse of a moment, she drafted a reply full of bitterness and defiance. But Dr. Lus.h.i.+ngton persuaded her--not without a deal of trouble--to send an answer the terms of which, after considerable delay, were arranged between them. The letter in question has already appeared in Mr. Prothero's 'Letters and Journals of Lord Byron,'[77] together with Byron's spirited rejoinder of April 3, 1820.

Lord Lovelace throws much light upon the inner workings of Lady Byron's mind at this period. That she should have objected to the publication of Byron's memoirs was natural; but, instead of saying this in a few dignified sentences, Lady Byron parades her wrongs, and utters dark hints as to the possible complicity of Augusta Leigh in Byron's mysterious scheme of revenge. Dr. Lus.h.i.+ngton at first thought that it would be wiser and more diplomatic to beg Byron's sister to dissuade him from publis.h.i.+ng his memoirs, but Lady Byron scented danger in that course.

'I foresee,' she wrote to Colonel Doyle, 'from the transmission of such a letter ... this consequence: that an unreserved disclosure from Mrs. Leigh to him being necessitated, they would combine together against me, he being actuated by revenge, she by fear; whereas, from her never having dared to inform him that she has already admitted his guilt to me with her own, they have hitherto been prevented from acting in concert.'

Byron was, of course, well acquainted with what had pa.s.sed between his wife and Augusta Leigh. It could not have been kept from him, even if there had been any reason for secrecy. He knew that his sister had been driven to admit that Medora was his child, thus _implying_ the crime of which she had been suspected. There was nothing, therefore, for Augusta to fear from _him_. She dreaded a public scandal, not so much on her own account as 'for the sake of others.' For that reason she tried to dissuade her brother from inviting a public discussion on family matters. There was no reason why Augusta should 'combine' with Byron against his hapless wife!

The weakness of Lady Byron's position is admitted by herself in a letter dated January 29, 1820:

'My information previous to my separation was derived either directly from Lord Byron, or from my observations on that part of his conduct which he exposed to my view. The infatuation of pride may have blinded him to the conclusions which must inevitably be established by a long series of circ.u.mstantial evidences.'

Oh, the pity of it all! There was something demoniacal in Byron's treatment of this excellent woman. Perhaps it was all very natural under the circ.u.mstances. Lady Byron seemed to invite attack at every conceivable moment, and did not realize that a wounded tiger is always dangerous. This is the way in which she spoke of Augusta to Colonel Doyle:

'Reluctant as I have ever been to bring my domestic concerns before the public, and anxious as I have felt _to save from ruin a near connection of his_, I shall feel myself compelled by duties of primary importance, if he perseveres in acc.u.mulating injuries upon me, to make a disclosure of the past in the _most_ authentic form.'

Lady Byron's grandiloquent phrase had no deeper meaning than this: that she was willing to accuse Augusta Leigh on the strength of 'a long series of circ.u.mstantial evidences.' We leave it for lawyers to say whether that charge could have been substantiated in the event of Mrs. Leigh's absolute denial, and her disclosure of all the circ.u.mstances relating to the birth of Medora.

In the course of the same year (1820) Augusta, having failed to induce Lady Byron to make a definite statement as to her intentions with regard to the Leigh children, urged Byron to intercede with his wife in their interests. He accordingly wrote several times to Lady Byron, asking her to be kind to Augusta--in other words, to make some provision for her children. It seemed, under all circ.u.mstances, a strange request to make, but Byron's reasons were sound. In accordance with the restrictions imposed by his marriage settlement, the available portion of the funds would revert to Lady Byron in the event of his predeceasing her. Lady Byron at first made no promise to befriend Augusta's children; but later she wrote to say that the past would not prevent her from befriending Augusta Leigh and her children 'in any future circ.u.mstances which may call for my a.s.sistance.'

In thanking Lady Byron for this promise, Byron writes: