Year: 1869

been allowed to sleep, no public use would
have been made Of them, but the appear
ance Of popular attack on the character
of Lady Byron calls for vindcation.
and the true story Of her married life
will, therefore, now be related.


Lord Byron has described, in one of
his letters, the impression left upon his
mind by young person whom he met
one evening in society, and who attracted
his attention by the simplicity of her
dress, and certain air of singular purity
and calmness with which she surveyed
the scene around her. ........


On inquiry he was told that this
Young person was Miss Milbanke. an only
child, aud one of the largest heiresses in
England.


The result Of Byron's intimacy with
Miss Milbanke and the enkindlna of his
nobler feelings was an offer of marriage.
which she, though at the time deeply in
tererted in him, declined with many OK
prcssions of friendship and interest. In
fact she already loved him, but had that
doubt of her power 20 be TO him all that
wife should be, which would be likely
| 10 arise in mind so sensitively con-
stituted and so unworldly. They how
ever continued correspondence as
friends; on her part the interest continu-
ally increased, on his the transient rise Of
better feelings was choked and over
grown by the thorns of base and un-
worthy passions.


From the height at which he might
have been happy rs the husband of a
| l. l.. L. f.1l T.
secret adnlterous intrigue with blood
relation, so near in consanguinity that
discovery must have been utter ruin and
expulsion from civilized society. ... ...
| From henceforth, this damning guilty
secret became The ruling force in his life,
holding him with morbid fascination.
yet filling him with remerse and anguish
and insane dread of detection. Two
years after his refusal by Miss NIlbankc.
his various friends, seeing that for some
cause he was wretched, pressed marriage
upon him, and in an hour of reckless
desperation, he sat down and wrote pro-
posals to two ladies. One was declined.
The other, which was accepted, was to
Miss Milbanke. The world knows well
that he had the gift of expression, and
will not be surprised !hat he wrote a
beautiful letter, and that the woman who
had already learned to love him fell at
once into the snare.


Her answer was frank, outspoken
avowal of her love for him, giving her
self to him heart and hand. The rood
in Lord Byron was not so utterly oblit-
Grated that he could receive such letter
| hD,
ness on loving, trusting heart without
pangs of remorse. lie had sent the letter
in mere recklessness ;-he had not seriously
expected to be accepted, and the dscov-
cry of the treasure of affection which he
had secured was like vision of lost
heaven to a soul in he'll. .-.-


Wien he went to visit Miss Milbanke's
parents, as her accepted lover, she was
struck with his manner and appearance ;
she saw lin moody and gloomy, evil
IDENTIFY wrestling with dark and desper-
ate thoughts, and anything but what =
happy and accepted lover should be. She
sought an interview with him alone, and
told him that she had observed he was
not happy in the engagement, and mag
unanimously added that, if on review he
found he had been mistaken in the ma
ture of his feelings, she would immedi-
ately release him and they should remain
only friends. r., ......


Overcome with the conflict of his feel
ings, Lord Byron tainted away. Miss
Milbanke was convinced that his heart
must really be involved in an attachment
with reference to which he showed such
strength OF emotion, and she spoke no
more Of the dissolution Of the engage
ment.


There is no reason to doubt that Byron
was, as he relates in his Dream, pro-
foundly agonized and agitated, when he
stood before Gods altar, with the trust
ing young creature whom he was lead
ing to a fate so awfully tragic, yet it was
not the memory OF Mary Chaworth, but
another guilty and more damning mem
ory that overshadowed that hour.


The moment the carriage doors were
shut upon the bridegroom and the bride,
the paroxysm of remorse and despair,
unrepentant remorse and angry despair,
broke forth upon her gentle head.


"You might have saved me from this,
Madam you had all in your power
when i offered myself to you first. Then
you might have made me what you
pleased; but now you will find that you
have married deUHr'


In Miss Martineau's sketches, recently
published, is an account of the termina-
tion of this wedding journey, which
brought them to one of Lady Byron's
ancestral country seats, where they were
to spend the honeymoon. ''


Miss .Martheau says:


"At tho altar she did not know that
she was sacrifice; but before sunset of
that winter day she knew it, il judg-
ment may be formed from her face and
attitude of despair when she alighted
from the carriage on the afternoon Of her
marriage day. 1t was lot the traces of
tears which won the sympathy of the
old butler, who stood at the open door.
The bridegroom jumped out Of the car
riago and walked away. The bride
alighted and went up the steps alone,
with n countenance and frame agonized
and listless with evident horror and des-
Il l., 20. his,