New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-02-17

for twelve years over the trfumrfal arch og
the Carrousel' Byron, who never went ont q
foot, was the FIRST to drive 4 four in hand On
the square Of St. Mark and on the banks of the
Breuta II was at Venice that his life tont its
deepest tinge Of romance. Here he lived. df-
yided by his three passions for as many women,
representing the three different grades of Vene5
tan society Marguarita, Marfana and AZ
las! she whornI name not, she, the most faithles
Of the three, was the great lady. TWAS she ;
Whom he loved more, perhaps, than. any one
else; more than Miss Ghaworth, more than La
~ Caroline Lamb The woman Of whom
speak strange as it may appear, is at the pres-
ent Gay, thirty three years after the epoch Of
which We speak, q charming WOMAN ] knew
her at Rome in all the splendor Of her beauty,
and then che was almost as wonderful to listen
to as to look at: she lived in reality only upon
the remembrance Of the great peet whom she
had loved. One would have said that the time
during which this love had lasted was the only
luminous portion Of her existence, and that sho
dIsdained to look into the obscurity which shad-
owed the, rest Of her existence Then had
spoken q her would have named her; then 4
wouia nave related our walks by moonGghttothe
Drum and the Coliseum would have repeat
| Ed what she told me under the shadow Of tho
immense rams where she could only speak IL
the Iilustr1ous dead who had walked with herovtr
sne same stones We were treaaing, who had sat
ing. Oh, madam, madam why have YOU been
faithless to the memory Of the great poet 1t
is true that Byron, with all his caprices and sIl
his eccentrieities, might not have been a very
agreeable lover, but then you should have been
unfaithful to Byron living and not to Byron
dead In 1921, Byron left Veniee-venice, in
the streets Of which no one had ever seen him
walk; the Brenta, on the banks of which no enc
had ever seen him stroliing square of ST.
| Marks, whose wonders he had never conteuI-s
plated, it is said, except from carriage or from
| the balconies Of his windows, 60 fearful was he
Of revealing TO the Venetian beauties the slight
deformity Of his foot which the width OF his
pantaloons could not conceal From Venice
Byron went to Pisa. There two new sorrows
| awaited him; the death of his natural daughter
and that of his friend Shelley, who Eas drown
ed IN crossing from LeghoFn to Lerici To
spare a long discussion with she Italian priests
It was resolved that the body should be burned
Trelawny, the bold pirate, was there he re-
lates this strange funeral scene as he relates
his lion hunt or his fight with the Malay Prineel
We were on the Shore says Trelawny. g be-
fore US was the sea with its islands, back of us
were the Apprentices. and by one side an I'M
mense funereal pile whose flames lashed by the
| sea-Wind assumed a thousand fantastic forms
The weather was beautiful; the lazy waves oi
the Mediterranean languid1y kissed the shore
whose golden sands eontrasted with the deep
4 blue Of the sky, and the mountains reared their
blue crests to the clouds while the fame of the
pile continued to ascend into the air. Pardon
me for having entertained you so long about
Byron, but the subject seemed interesting to me
and would fain hope that it prove so to SONG
of your readers;
twill be reeohscted that these horses constituted
Of Italy. 8 = y