The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1870-01-07
Mrs. Stoves Last Contribution to the
Byron Controversy

Mrs. Stoves Last Contribution to the
Byron Controversy.
Mrs. Stoves book, in which she replies 10
those who have assaulted her article in the
atlantic, has appeared. The revelations are
disgusting, and only the general public inter-
est that has been awakened excuses their re-
publication here The notices of the press
are decidedly unfavorable to the book. The
following is the account of Mrs. Stoves in
terview with Lady Byron which served as a
foundation for her famous article
LADY BYRoN's STORY OF 1856
Mrs. Stowe says:-In October, 1856, nv sis
ter and myself were going from London to
Eversley to visit Rev. c. Kingsley. On our
way we stopped, by Lady Byron's invitation.
to lunch with her at her summer residence on
Ham Common, near Richmond; and it was
then arranged, that on our return we should
make her a short VISIT as she said she had a
subject of importance on which she wished to
converse with me alone. On our return from
Eversley, we arrived at her house in the morn
ing. 1t appeared to be one of Lady Byron's
well days. She was up and dressed, and NOV
ed about her house with her usual air of quiet
simplicity; as full of little acts of considera-
ton for all about her as if they were the habit
ual invalids, and she the we'll person.
After lunCn TeUlreQ With Lazy byron, and
my sister remained with her friends. I should
here remark that the chief subject of the con-
versation which ensned was not entirely new
to me. In the interval between my first and
second visits to England, a lady who for many
years had enjoyed Lady ByrOn's friendshin
and confidence, had, with her consent stated
the case generally to me, giving some of the
Incidents so that was in manner prepared
for what followed. Some of her particular
words and forms of expression I remember.
r I. r
recollection of the substance of what was said,
There was something awful to me in the in
tensity of repressed emotion which she show
ed as she proceeded. The great fact unon
which all turned was stated in words that were
unmistakable:
"Mrs. Stowe, he was guilty of incest with
| his sister,"
She here became so deathly pale, that 1 fear
| ed she would faint, and fastened to say, "My
dear friend. have heard that" She asked
quickly, From whom" and I answered,
yesv' as if recollecting herself then asked
her some 9uestions; in reply to which she
| said, 81 will tell you"
| She then spoke of her first acquaintance
| with Lord Byron. When she was introduced
to him, and perceived his admiration of her.
self, and at last received his offer, although
to @ s hfh VIE should be- sue
clined his offer, therefore, but desired still to
a correspondence ensuhd, mostly on moral and
literary subjects, and, by this correspondence,
her interest in him constantly increased. At
last, she said, he sent her very beautiful let
| ter, offering himself again. 81 thought" she
added, "that it was sincere, and that might
now show him all I felt. I wrote inst what
was in my heart. Afterward,' she said. II
found in one of his journals this notice of INV
ietter:I,A letter from Bell-it never rains but
itpours.'"
| There was through her habitual calm a
shade of womanly Indignation as she spoke
these words; but it was gone in a moment. I
said, And did he not love you, then?' She
answered, No, my dear; he did not love me. /"
why, then, did he wish to marry you" She
laid her hand on mine, and said in a low voice,
| "You will see."
She then told me that shortly after the de-
clared engagement, he came to her father s
house to visit her as an accepted suitor. The
visit was to her full of disappointment. His
appearance was so strange, moody and unac-
countable, and his treatment of her so pecu-
| liar, that she came to the conclusion that he
did not love her, and sought an opportunity to
converse with him alone She told him that
| she saw from his manner that their engage
ment did not give him pleasure; that She
should never blame him if he wished to dis
| solve it; that his nature was exceptional; and
if, on nearer view of the situation, he
shrank from it, she would release him, and re-
main no less than ever his friend. Upon this.
she said, he tainted entirely away.
She stopped moment, and then, as il
| speaking with great effort added, "Then I
| was sure he must love me-"
"And did he not?" said ''what other
cause could have led to this emotion?"
| of detection"
What said, ''did that cause then exist ?"
| eyes," she said, it did, And she explained
that she now attributed Lord Byron's great
agitation to fear, that, in some way, suspicion
OF the crime had been aroused in her mind,
| and that on this account she was seeking to
| break the engagement. She said, that from
| that moment her sympathies were aroused for
him to soothe the remorse and anguish which
seemed preying on his mind, and which she
then regarded as the sensiblity of an unusual
| ly exacting moral nature which Judged itself
by higher standards, and condemned itself un-
sparingly for what most young men of his
times regarded as venial faults. She had ev-
| cry hope for his future, and all the enthusiasm
| of belief that so many men and women of
| those times and ours have had in his intrinsic
nobleness. She said the gloom, however,
seemed to be even deeper when he came to
the marriage; but she looked at it as the suf-
fering of peculiar being, to whom she was
| called TO minister. 1 said to her. that, even in
the days of my childhood, had heard some
thing very painful that had passed as they
were in the carriage, Immediately after marri-
age. She then said it was so-that almost his
first words, when they were alone, were that
she might once have saved him-that if she
fng fRsfGeRted him when pc size pleased
but that, as it was, she would find She had
married devil. The conversation, as record
ed in Lady Anne Barnard's diary, seems only
continuation OF the foregoing and just what
| mi hit have followed upon it.
THE HORRIBLE REVELATION,
then asked how she became certain of the
true cause. She said, that, from the outset of
| their married life, his conduct towards her was
| strange and unaccountable, even during the
first weeks after the wedding. while they were
| visiting her friends, and Ouuwardly on GOOD
terms. He seemed resolved to shake and com
bat both her religious principles and her views
| OF the family state. He tried to undermine
her faith in Christianity as rule OF life by ar
gument and by riaicule. He set before her
it being simple partnership of friendship and
property, the parties to which were allowed by
one another to pursue their own separate in.
dividual tastes. He told her, that, as he could
not De expected to confine himself to her, nei-
| Their should he expect or wish that she sbou,d
confne herself to him; that she was young and
| pretty, and could have her lovers, and that he
should never object; and that she should al
| low him the same freedom. She said that she
did not comprehend to what this was tending
| till after they came to London, and his SISTER
| came to stay with them.
At what precise time the idea of an improp.
| er connection between her husband and his
sister was first forced upon her, she did not
say; but she told me how it was done. She
said that one night, in her presence, he treated
his sister with liberty which both shocked
and astonished her. Seeing her amazement
and alarm, he came up to her, and tsaid, in a
sneering tone, 81 suppose you perceive you are
not wanted here. Go to your own room, and
| leave us alone. We can amuse ourselves het
ter without you" She said, ct went TO INV
room trembling. I fell down on my knees and
prayed to my heavenly Father to have mercy
on them. thought, What shall do?"