Lady Byron and her friends plied Mrs. Leigh with questions, hoping to gain a confession which would justify their conduct. Lady Noel strongly and repeatedly warned Lady Byron against Mrs. Leigh, who, like a wounded animal, was dangerous. 'Take care of Augusta,' she wrote September 7, 1816. 'If I know anything of human nature, she _does_ and must _hate you_.'

As a matter of fact, Augusta, while pretending contrition for imaginary sins, revenged herself upon Lady Byron by heightening her jealousy, and encouraging her in the belief that Byron had not only been her lover, but was still appealing to her from abroad. She even went so far as to pretend that she was going to join him, which nearly frightened Mrs. Villiers out of her wits. They lied to Augusta profusely, these immaculate people, and had the meanness to tell her that Byron had betrayed her in writing to two or three women. They probably wished to cause a breach between brother and sister, but Augusta, who pretended to be alarmed by this intelligence, laughed in her sleeve. She knew the truth, and saw through these manoeuvres; it was part of her plan to keep Lady Byron on a false scent.

'I cannot believe my brother to have been so dishonourable,' was her meek rejoinder, meaning, of course, that it would have been dishonourable for Byron to have defamed one who, having taken his child under her protection, had saved the honour of the woman whom he loved. But Lady Byron regarded Mrs. Leigh's answer as an admission of guilt, and trumpeted the news to all her friends. Lord Lovelace tells us that Augusta, on August 5, 1816, wrote to Lady Byron a letter, in which she a.s.serted most solemnly that Byron had not been her friend, and that, though there were difficulties in writing to him, she was determined never to see him again in the way she had done. It is remarkable that the letter to which Lord Lovelace refers is not given in 'Astarte,' where one would naturally expect to find it. In order to gauge the impression made upon Augusta's mind, the reader will do well to consult the letters which she wrote a little later to the Rev. Francis Hodgson, in which she speaks of Byron with the greatest affection.

'And now for our old subject, dear B. I wonder whether you have heard from him? The last to me was from Geneva, sending me a short but most interesting journal of an excursion to the Bernese Alps. He speaks of his health as _very_ good, but, alas! his spirits appear wofully the contrary. I believe, however, that he does not write in that strain to others. Sometimes I venture to indulge a hope that what I wish most earnestly for him may be working its way in his mind. Heaven grant it!'

In another letter to Hodgson she speaks of Ada, and says:

'The bulletins of the poor child's health, by Byron's desire, pa.s.s through me, and I'm very sorry for it, and that I ever had any concern in this most wretched business. I can't, however, explain all my reasons at this distance, and must console myself by the consciousness of having done my duty, and, to the best of my judgment, all I could for the happiness of _both_.'

At a time when Byron was accused of having 'betrayed his sister in writing to two or three women,' he was writing that well-known stanza in 'Childe Harold':

'But there was one soft breast, as hath been said, Which unto his was bound by stronger ties Than the Church links withal; and though unwed, Yet it was pure--and, far above disguise, Had stood the test of mortal enmities Still undivided, and cemented more By peril, dreaded most in female eyes; But this was firm, and from a foreign sh.o.r.e Well to that heart might his these absent greetings pour.'

And it was in July, 1816, that Augusta's loyalty to him and to Mary Chaworth moved Byron to write his celebrated 'Stanzas to Augusta':

'_Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted_, It shrunk not to share it with me, And the Love which my spirit hath painted It never hath found but in _Thee_.'

'Though human, thou didst not _betray_ me; Though tempted, thou never couldst shake.'

Lord Lovelace claims to have found the key of the Byron mystery in 'Manfred,' and employs it as a d.a.m.ning proof against Augusta, with what justice we have seen.

At the time when 'Manfred' was begun Mary Chaworth was temporarily insane.

The anxiety which she had undergone at the time of Byron's matrimonial quarrels, when she feared that a public inquiry might disclose her own secret, affected her health. She bore up bravely until after Byron's departure from England; then, the strain relieved, her mind gave way, and she lived for some time in London, under the care of a doctor. Her illness was kept as secret as possible, but Augusta, who was constantly at her side, informed Byron of her condition.

CHAPTER IV

There has of late years been a disposition on the part of Byron's biographers unduly to disparage Moore's 'Life of Byron.' Tastes have changed, and Moore's patronizing style of reference to 'his n.o.ble friend the n.o.ble poet' does not appeal to the democratic sentiment now prevailing. But, after allowance has been made for Moore's manner, it cannot be denied that, in consequence of his personal intimacy with Byron, his work must always have a peculiar value and authority. There are, for instance, portions of Moore's 'Life' which are indispensable to those who seek to fathom the depths of Byron's mind. Moore says that Byron was born with strong affections and ardent pa.s.sions, and that his life was

'one continued struggle between that instinct of genius, which was for ever drawing him back into the lonely laboratory of self, and those impulses of pa.s.sion, ambition, and vanity, which again hurried him off into the crowd, and entangled him in its interests.'

Moore a.s.sures us that most of Byron's so-called love-affairs were as transitory as the imaginings that gave them birth.

'It may be questioned,' says Moore, 'whether his heart had ever much share in such pa.s.sions. Actual objects there were, in but too great number, who, as long as the illusion continued, kindled up his thoughts and were the themes of his song. But they were little more than mere dreams of the hour. _There was but one love that lived unquenched through all_'--Byron's love for Mary Chaworth.

Every other attachment faded away, but that endured to the end of his stormy life.

In speaking of Byron's affection for his sister, Moore, who knew all that had been said against Augusta Leigh and Byron, and had read the 'Memoirs,'

remarked:

'In a mind sensitive and versatile as [Byron's], long habits of family intercourse might have estranged, or at least dulled, his natural affection for his sister; but their separation during youth left this feeling fresh and untired. That he was himself fully aware of this appears from a pa.s.sage in one of his letters: "My sister is in Town, which is a great comfort; for, never having been much together, we are naturally more attached to each other." His very inexperience in such ties made the smile of a sister no less a novelty than a charm to him; and before the first gloss of this newly awakened sentiment had time to wear off, they were again separated, and for ever.'

When the parting came it was bitter indeed, for she was, says Moore,

'almost the only person from whom he then parted with regret. Those beautiful and tender verses, "Though the day of my destiny's over,"

were now his parting tribute to her who, through all this bitter trial, had been his sole consolation.'

Enough has been said to show what kind of woman Augusta was, and it is difficult to understand by what process of reasoning Lord Lovelace persuaded himself that she could have been guilty of the atrocious crime which he lays to her charge. We entirely concur with Mrs. Villiers, when she wrote to Augusta Leigh (in September, 1816): 'I consider you the victim to the most infernal plot that has ever entered the heart of man to conceive.'

We must at the same time frankly admit that Augusta, in order to screen Mary Chaworth, did all she could do to keep Lady Byron under a false impression. She seems to have felt so secure in the knowledge of her own innocence that she might afford to allow Lady Byron to think as ill of her as she pleased.

Unfortunately, Augusta, having once entered upon a course of duplicity, was obliged to keep it up by equivocations of all kinds. She went so far as even to show portions of letters addressed to her care, and pretended that they had been written to herself. She seems to have felt no compunction for the sufferings of Lady Byron. She may even have exulted in the pain she inflicted upon that credulous lady, having herself suffered intensely through the false suspicions, and the studied insults heaped upon her by many of Lady Byron's adherents.

Byron, who was informed of what had been said against his sister by Lady Byron and others, told the world in 'Marino Faliero' that he 'had only one fount of quiet left, and _that_ they poisoned.' But he was powerless to interfere.

Writing to Moore (September 19, 1818) he said:

'I could have forgiven the dagger or the bowl--anything but the deliberate desolation piled upon me, when I stood alone upon my hearth, with my household G.o.ds shivered around me. Do you suppose I have forgotten it? It has, comparatively, swallowed up in me every other feeling, and I am only a spectator upon earth till a tenfold opportunity offers.'

It may be that Augusta avenged her brother tenfold without his knowledge.

But she suffered in the process. Lord Lovelace lays great stress upon what he calls 'the correspondence of 1819,' in order to show us that Augusta had confessed to the crime of incest. That correspondence is very interesting, not as showing the guilt of Augusta Leigh, but as an example of feminine duplicity in which she was an adept. Augusta was hard pressed indeed for some weapon of offence when she pretended, on June 25, 1819, that she had received the following letter from her brother. She must have been some time in making up her mind to send it, as the letter in question had been in her hands three weeks, having arrived in London on June 4. It may be as well to state that all letters written by Byron to Mary Chaworth pa.s.sed through Mrs. Leigh's hands, and were delivered with circ.u.mspection.

'VENICE, '_May 17, 1819_.[70]

'MY DEAREST LOVE,

'I have been negligent in not writing, but what can I say? Three years' absence--and the total change of scene and habit make such a difference that we have never nothing in common but our affections and our relationship. But I have never ceased nor can cease to feel for a moment that perfect and boundless attachment which bound and binds me to you--which renders me utterly incapable of _real_ love for any other human being--for what could they be to me after _you_? My own ...[71] we may have been very wrong--but I repent of nothing except that cursed marriage--and your refusing to continue to love me as you had loved me. I can neither forget nor _quite forgive_ you for that precious piece of reformation, but I can never be other than I have been--and whenever I love anything it is because it reminds me in some way or other of yourself. For instance, I not long ago attached myself to a Venetian for no earthly reason (although a pretty woman) but because she was called ...[72] and she often remarked (without knowing the reason) how fond I was of the name.[73] It is heart-breaking to think of our long separation--and I am sure more than punishment enough for all our sins. Dante is more humane in his "h.e.l.l," for he places his unfortunate lovers (Francesca of Rimini and Paolo--whose case fell a good deal short of _ours_, though sufficiently naughty) in company; and though they suffer, it is at least together. If ever I return to England it will be to see you; and recollect that in all time, and place, and feelings, I have never ceased to be the same to you in heart. Circ.u.mstances may have ruffled my manner and hardened my spirit; you may have seen me harsh and exasperated with all things around me; grieved and tortured with _your new resolution_, and the soon after persecution of that infamous fiend[74] who drove me from my country, and conspired against my life--by endeavouring to deprive me of all that could render it precious[75]--but remember that even then _you_ were the sole object that cost me a tear; and _what tears_! Do you remember our parting? I have not spirits now to write to you upon other subjects. I am well in health, and have no cause of grief but the reflection that we are not together. When you write to me speak to me of yourself, and say that you love me; never mind common-place people and topics which can be in no degree interesting to me who see nothing in England but the country which holds _you_, or around it but the sea which divides us. They say absence destroys weak pa.s.sions, and confirms strong ones. Alas! _mine_ for you is the union of all pa.s.sions and of all affections--has strengthened itself, but will destroy me; I do not speak of physical destruction, for I have endured, and can endure, much; but the annihilation of all thoughts, feelings, or hopes, which have not more or less a reference, to you and to _our recollections_.

'Ever, dearest,'

[Signature erased].

The terms of this letter, which Lord Lovelace produces as conclusive evidence against Augusta Leigh, deserve attention. At first sight they seem to confirm Lady Byron's belief that a criminal intercourse had existed between her husband and his sister. But close examination shows that the letter was not written to Mrs. Leigh at all, but to Mary Chaworth.

On the day it was written Byron was at Venice, where he had recently made the acquaintance of the Countess Guiccioli, whom, as 'Lady of the land,'

he followed to Ravenna a fortnight later. It will be noticed that the date synchronizes with the period when the 'Stanzas to the Po' were written.

Both letter and poem dwell upon the memory of an unsatisfied pa.s.sion. The letter bears neither superscription nor signature, both having been erased by Mrs. Leigh before the doc.u.ment reached Lady Byron's hands. The writer excuses himself for not having written to his correspondent (_a_) because three years' absence, (_b_) total change of scene, and (_c_) _because there is nothing in common between them_, except mutual affections and their relationship. Byron could not have excused himself in that manner to a sister, who had much in common with him, and to whom he had written, on an average, twice in every month since he left England. His letters to Augusta entered minutely into all his feelings and actions, and the common bond between them was Ada, whose disposition, appearance, and health, occupied a considerable s.p.a.ce in their correspondence.

Nor would Byron have written in that amatory strain to his dear 'Goose.'

In the letter which preceded the one we have quoted, Byron begins, 'Dearest Augusta,' and ends, 'I am in health, and yours, B.' In that which followed it there is nothing in the least effusive. It begins, 'Dearest Augusta,' and ends, 'Yours ever, and very truly, B.' There are not many of Byron's letters to Augusta extant. All those which mentioned Medora were either mutilated or suppressed.

For Byron to have given 'three years' absence, and a total change of scene,' as reasons for not having written to his sister for a month or so would have been absurd. But when he said that he had nothing in common with Mary Chaworth, except 'our affections and our relationship,' his meaning was--their mutual affections, their kinship, and their common relationship to Medora.

We invite any unprejudiced person to say whether Byron would have been likely to write to a sister, who knew his mind thoroughly, 'I have never ceased--nor can cease to feel for a moment that perfect and boundless attachment which bound and binds me to you.' Did not Augusta know very well that he loved and admired her, and that Byron was under the strongest obligations to her for her loyalty at a trying time?

Then, there was the erasure of 'a short name of three or four letters,'

which might have opened Lady Byron's eyes to the trick that was being played upon her. Those four letters spelt the name of Mary, and the 'pretty woman' to whom Byron had 'not long ago' attached himself was the Venetian Marianna (Anglice: Mary Anne) Segati, with whom he formed a liaison from November, 1816, to February 1818. Augusta would certainly not have understood the allusion.

In this illuminating letter Byron reproaches Mary Chaworth for breaking off her fatal intimacy with him, and for having persuaded him to marry--'that infamous fiend who drove me from my country, and conspired against my life--by _endeavouring to deprive me of all that could render it precious_.' As the person here referred to was, obviously, Augusta herself, this remark could not have been made to her. In speaking of their long separation as a punishment for their sins, he tells Mary Chaworth that, if he ever returns to England, it will be to see _her_, and that his feelings have undergone no change. It will be observed that Byron begs his correspondent _to speak to him only of herself and to say that she loves him_! It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader that Augusta was the intermediary between Byron and his wife--his confidential agent in purely private affairs. It was to her that he wrote on all matters relating to business transactions with his wife, and from whom he received intelligence of the health and happiness of his daughter. Under those circ.u.mstances how could Byron ask Augusta to speak to him of nothing but her love for him?

To show the absurdity of Lord Lovelace's contention, we insert the letter which Byron wrote to his sister seven months later. Many letters had pa.s.sed between them during the interval, but we have not been allowed to see them:

'BOLOGNA, '_December 23, 1819_.

'DEAREST AUGUSTA,