By autumn 1815 and as the bailiff beckoned along with the sale of his precious library – he got drunk AND frequently!
One cold weekend in February and with the clearest skies imaginable, I returned to the place that Byron had confessed to taking a liking to ‘vastly’…
The poet’s estranged spouse would spend the following years ensuring that the story of her marriage was shared by friend and foe alike.
Black treacle and Lord Byron?
Having ‘metropolized’ to London for the day – one quiet and chilly afternoon I went for a stroll along Piccadilly to take a lingering look at the abode which was the scene of his short and difficult union with the unfortunate, former Annabella Milbanke…
As we know that no one lives forever and seven months after Lord B’s most facetious letter – his Mamma-At-Law died on Monday January 28 in 1822.
January 25 is the celebration of Burns Night and having enjoyed a fabulous supper of Haggis – I had to refuse the ‘wee dram’ of fine Scotch whiskey on offer.
However, had I done so, I could have raised a glass in honour of the character in this post – Lady Caroline Lamb who died on this day in 1828 at the age of forty two
AND it’s probably fair to say that even with the passage of time, opinion remains as divided about her in death, as it was in life!
Byron was noted for his open manner and of his tendency to admit his feelings of despondency, sorrow or his word of choice – melancholy. For his poetry is noted for it, his private journals speak of it and he was often candid about his ‘constitutional depression of Spirits’ in letters to his friends.
Obedience? You wish! I care little…
Do NOT deceive me! Can YOU promise ME a happy marriage?
STOP being difficult for surely YOU can come NOW?
YOUR sense of duty or inclination is NO longer welcome!
Wife or NOT? Is the ring MINE or NOT?
What is YOUR excuse NOW?