Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1860-06-12

the bride returned to her fathers house in Lei
cestershire, never more to dwell under the same
roof with her husband. Her father wrote to
Byron that he should not return, and they went
upon their ways apart
The real origin of their quarrel does not ap-
pear. A thousand stories were Immediately
buzzeG about, and scandal opened in full cry
The memoirs of his life, which Byron entrusted
to Moore, contained, doubtless, an explanation
of the mystery; but they were burned by the
| depositary, and the world must forever remain
| in ignorance of the real circumstances. Every
| thing goes to show, however, that tue blame of
their separation rested on Lord Byron. He
wrote soon after the return of Lady Byron to
her father: 8a
''In the meantime | am at war with all the
world sand his wife, or rather all the world
and my wife are at war With me, and have not
yet crushed me, whatever they may do. don't
know that in the course of hair breadth ex
istence was ever, at home or abroad, in sit
nation SO completely nprooting of present pleas
ure, or natural hope for the future as this same.
| say this because think so and feel it, But
| shall not sink under 1t the more for that mode
OF considering the question; have made up
my mind. BY the way, however, you must not
believe all you hear on the subject; and don't
attempt to defend me.
He had himself, we doubt not, compelled ''all
the world" and his own wife, to make that war
upon himself! Indeed in the very next month
he wrote:
II must set you right in one point, however.
The fault was not-no, nor even the misfortune,
in my choice, unless in choosing at alp for do
not believe, and must say il, in the very dregs
of all this bitter business, that there was never
q better, or even brighter, kinder or more
amiable and agreeable being than Lady B. I
never had, nor can have, any reproach to make
her, while with me. Where there is blame it
belongs to myself; and if l cannot redeem l
must bear it.
During the same year, appeared from his pen
the well known lines addressed to his wife,
which we append:
! "And thou vert sad-yet was not with thee;
And thou vert sick, and yet was not near;
Methought JOY and health alone could be
Where was nOt-and pain and sorrow here
And is it thus Pit is as foreold,
And shall be more SO; for the mind recois
| Upon itself, and the wrecked heart lies cold,
While heaviness collects the shattered spoils.
| 1t Is not In the storm nor in the strife
We feel benumbd and met to be no more;
But in .he after silence the shore,
| When all is lost except little life.
81 am too we'll avenged but twas my right,
| Whate'e er my sins may be, thou vert not sent
| To be the Nemesis who should requte-
Nor did Heaven choose new an instrument.
Mercy is for the merciful If thou
| Hadst been of such, t will be accorded now.
Thy nights are banshed from the realms of sleep -
| Yes! they may fatter thee, but thou must feel
A hollow agony which will not heal.
For thou art plilowed on curse too deep;
Thou hast sown in my sorrow and must reap
The bitter harvest in real!
L have had many foes, but none like thee;
For 'ga1nst the rest myself could defend,
And be avenged, or turn them into friend;
But thou in safe impacabilty
HadSt uaught dread-ln thine WeakeSs shielded
And in my love- which hath but too nuch yielded,
And spared for thy sake some should not spare.
And thus Upon the world-trust in thy truth
And the wild tume of my ungoverned youth
On things that were not, and on things that are
Even upon such basis hast thou built
A monument whose cement hath been guilt
The moral Cl, temnes ,ra of my luid,
And hewed down with an unsuspected sword,
Fame, peace and hope-and all the better life
| Which but for this cold treason of thy heart,
Might stn have risen from out the grave of strife,
And found nobler duty than to part.
But If thy virtues thou didst make vice,
+, Trafficng with them in purpose cold
For present anger, and for future gold
And buying others griefs at any price,
And thus once entered into crooked ways,
The early truth. which was thy proper praise,
Did not still walk beside thee-but on times,
And with breast unknowing its own crimes,
Deceit avertments Incompatible,
Equivocations, and the thoughts which dwell
In Janus spirits-the significant eye
Which learns to lie with silence-the pretext
OF prudence, with advantages annexed
The acquescence in all things which tend,
No matter how, to the desired end
All found place in thy philosophy,
The means were worthy, and the end ia now;
l would not do by thee as thou hast done"
After the separation, Byron fonnd himself the
mark of general odium, and we must accept the
verdict of his contemporaries, as to his guilt, il
the absence of proof on the contrary. His wan
derng, amess life commenced, and we believe
that he never again saw his wife. Their only
daughter, Augusta Ada, was born in December
1915, just before the separation. In May 1928
he wrote from Genoa, in relation to his child
"Ada, sole daughter of my home aud heart:"-
''My message with regard to the infant is sim
ply to this etfect-that In the event OF any &C
cident occurring to the mother, and my remain
ing the survivor, it would be my wish to have
her plans carried into effect, both with regard t.
the education of the child and the person Oh
persons under whose care Lady B. might be de.
srous that she should be placed. 1t is not my
intention to interfere with her in any way OIL
the subject during her life; and presume il
would be some consolation to her to know G
she is in i'll health, as am given to understand
n that in no case would anything be done, as faI
as am concerned, but in strict conformity witt
Lady BIS own wishes and ntentions-left il
what manner she thought proper"
i Ada was-married in 1885 to the Earl of Love.
lace, and died in 1852-somewhat noted, it il
said-alas! fo- poetry, for specializing in rail
way shares and horse races.
Her mother, Lady By ron, continued to remain
in retirement, but in 1880 she published letter
directing that neither her father nor her mother
were at all to blame in regard to her separation
from Lord Byron. She did not explain the mys
i terry, however, and has gone dawn to the grave
without divulging it. She seems to have reso
lutely refrained from adding to that load of od
um which rests upon her celebrated husband ir
his private character, and to have TRANQUILITY
left the whole drama to the judgement of pos
terty. Such was the tragedy Of Ryron's life
the real origin of his melancholy, and bis reck
Il less defiance of society. He felt that he had
! linked his fate to that OF woman whom he die
not love. while he loved another; and the con
viction drove him from his native land, anG
made him sour misanthrope. We commend
the lesson to all persons whe are about to enter
upon the holy state of matrimony. .-Ric1eond
lnder.
i OLD. OLD ENaLAND.-The mind finds it diff
cult to realize the idea that country like Eng
land Was once steaming morass, covered will
The rank tropical vegetation of the tree ferr
groves. its awful silence only broken by the hun
of the shardy beetle, the rush of the hideous fly
inc lizards through lofty woods of ferns an(
reeds. or the tramp of the giant inguanodons O.
YER the plashy wulds. Imagination, left to it
self, could scarcely have INDUCED In so wild {
fight. as to picture an era when palm tree.
! waved in Kent and Hampshire, and the plains
of Cumnor were the coral reefs of some prime