Kristin (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} belle_17) wrote,@ 2006-04-13 11:44:00 |
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and I thought I was obsessed...
I freely admit that the majority of my livejournal entries are superifical. Professions of fangirl love are numerous; posts describing my latest celebrity obsession *cough* Gerard Butler *cough* are common. While my infatuation with that actor has since diminished, I am relieved to report that another man has replaced Butler as my newest fascination. The only problem, however? My latest "project" died about 180 years ago.
Lord Byron, a Romantic poet who lived between 1788-1824, was described by my Western Civilization textbook to be "an aristocrat, rich, handsome, defiant - his affairs with countless women earned him reputation as a libertine, or a Romantic rebel against conformity and inhibition."
So basically? This "sensitive" poet was an 18th century playa.
Already a fan of his poetry, I was intrigued to learn more of his romantic endeavors. What I discovered was juicier than any Brad-Jen-Angie tabloid headline. Seriously. Here's the low-down on just one of his infamous love affairs, according to Englishhistory.net:
--------------------------
Lady Caroline Ponsonby Lamb, at the time of her first meeting with Byron, was 27, married, and the mother of an autistic son. (Byron was 24, respectively.) Upon reading one of Byron's works, Childe Harold, she conjured up a romantic image of the poet and fancied meeting him. A few day's later, the two were both at the house of a Lady Westmoreland, but Byron was surrounded by women and Caroline, nervous, left.
Byron, of course, always preferred women he had to pursue. Once Caroline Lamb had avoided the introduction, Byron was determined to meet her. They were introduced at Lord and Lady Holland's, but Byron was initially disappointed. Caroline did not resemble his traditional conquests, or his concept of feminine beauty. She was tall and very thin, with short, curly blonde hair and hazel eyes. After the meeting, he told his friend Medwin, 'The lady had scarcely any personal attractions to recommend her.' Her figure 'was too thin to be good' and her eccentric habit of dressing as a page shocked him. But Caroline was attracted to him instantly; she wrote, 'That beautiful pale face is my fate.'"
Byron got over his initital dislike for her figure, however, and the two became lovers. Relationship problems began early on: Byron's supposed flirtations with other women and Caroline's waltzing with other men made both parties jealous. The passion - while for a short time intense - died for Byron. He had the ultimate romantic flaw: He loved to pursue women but, once captured, he longed to leave them. Unfourtunately for Caroline, however, she was still deeply in love with Byron. When he left London for Newstead, Caroline bombarded him with letters. Byron's friends, however, convinced him not to respond; they did not want to further encourage the affair that had already scandanlized London society. Caroline was angered by Byron's deliberate avoidance, and when he returned to London, she showed up unexpectantly at his home. (This was a huge no-no: a married woman showing up alone at a man's house had serious social reprecussions.) It was there at his house, in an act of desperation, did Caroline grab a knife and try stab herself. Byron held her down until she was calm. Eventually, she let Hobhouse take her to a friend's home. He was desperate to prevent any public declaration of intent from either party. Before leaving, she made Byron promise to visit her before he left London again.
Caroline, however, still could not resist Byron. She sent him a letter enclosed with a pubic hair (ew!) and a letter addressing herself as "Caroline Byron." The letter she sent read:
'I asked you not to send blood but Yet do - because if it means love I like to have it. I cut the hair too close & bled much more than you need - do not you the same & pray put not scissors points near where quei capelli grow - sooner take it from the arm or wrist - pray be careful....'
Byron agreed to continue writing to her, perhaps because he feared another hysterical outburst. He also still cared for her. And for Byron, absence always made the heart grow fonder. He could now play the role of the gracious former lover. Since she was safely away, he could avow passion he no longer felt.
Byron soon engaged himself in another affair with Jane Elizabeth, Countess of Oxford (I told you he was a player!) and Caroline was devestated. She held a dramatic bonfire in Hertfordshire; village girls dressed in white and danced while Caroline threw copies of Byron's letters, and a figure of Byron she had made, into a fire. Caroline could not forget Byron, however - she would visit his home at inappropiate hours unwelcomed, writing "Remember Me!" on books on his desk. She also forged a note in Byron's handwriting to his publisher John Murray, requesting a painted miniature of the poet. Byron found out, and was furious. In revenge, when Caroline requested a lock of his hair, he sent one of his mistress's hairs instead.
Their last public scenes together ended any remaining semblance of the relationship. They both attended a masked ball at Burlington House in honor of the Duke of Wellington. There, Byron (dressed as a monk) scolded her in public, embarrasing her terribly. Four days later, they saw each other again at a waltzing party at Lady Heathcote's. There, Caroline - who remembered his earlier pleas (when they were still together) for her to sit with him instead of dance - walked up to him and asked, 'I conclude I may waltz now.' Byron replied: 'With every body in turn - you always did it better than anyone. I shall have a pleasure in seeing you.' Later, he said to her sarcastically, 'I have been admiring your dexterity.' Caroline picked up a table knife, 'not intending anything', she later wrote. Byron was amused and contemptuous. 'Do, my dear. If you mean to act a Roman's part,' he told her, 'mind which way you strike with your knife - be it at your own heart, not mine - you have struck there already.' Caroline cried out, 'Byron!' and fled in distress. When some ladies tried to take the knife from her, she cut her hand. The entire affair was reported in the papers.
--------------------------
So... you may ask, why I am now obsessed with Lord Byron? It's because he is the quintessential "bad boy." In addition to Caroline and Jane Elizabeth, he was reportedly involved with Lady Annabella Milbanke, Augusta Leigh, and Lady Frances Webster. Byron was also the master of the love letter. After learning about him, who needs a historical Harlequin romance?
I freely admit that the majority of my livejournal entries are superifical. Professions of fangirl love are numerous; posts describing my latest celebrity obsession *cough* Gerard Butler *cough* are common. While my infatuation with that actor has since diminished, I am relieved to report that another man has replaced Butler as my newest fascination. The only problem, however? My latest "project" died about 180 years ago.
Lord Byron, a Romantic poet who lived between 1788-1824, was described by my Western Civilization textbook to be "an aristocrat, rich, handsome, defiant - his affairs with countless women earned him reputation as a libertine, or a Romantic rebel against conformity and inhibition."
So basically? This "sensitive" poet was an 18th century playa.
Already a fan of his poetry, I was intrigued to learn more of his romantic endeavors. What I discovered was juicier than any Brad-Jen-Angie tabloid headline. Seriously. Here's the low-down on just one of his infamous love affairs, according to Englishhistory.net:
--------------------------
Lady Caroline Ponsonby Lamb, at the time of her first meeting with Byron, was 27, married, and the mother of an autistic son. (Byron was 24, respectively.) Upon reading one of Byron's works, Childe Harold, she conjured up a romantic image of the poet and fancied meeting him. A few day's later, the two were both at the house of a Lady Westmoreland, but Byron was surrounded by women and Caroline, nervous, left.
Byron, of course, always preferred women he had to pursue. Once Caroline Lamb had avoided the introduction, Byron was determined to meet her. They were introduced at Lord and Lady Holland's, but Byron was initially disappointed. Caroline did not resemble his traditional conquests, or his concept of feminine beauty. She was tall and very thin, with short, curly blonde hair and hazel eyes. After the meeting, he told his friend Medwin, 'The lady had scarcely any personal attractions to recommend her.' Her figure 'was too thin to be good' and her eccentric habit of dressing as a page shocked him. But Caroline was attracted to him instantly; she wrote, 'That beautiful pale face is my fate.'"
Byron got over his initital dislike for her figure, however, and the two became lovers. Relationship problems began early on: Byron's supposed flirtations with other women and Caroline's waltzing with other men made both parties jealous. The passion - while for a short time intense - died for Byron. He had the ultimate romantic flaw: He loved to pursue women but, once captured, he longed to leave them. Unfourtunately for Caroline, however, she was still deeply in love with Byron. When he left London for Newstead, Caroline bombarded him with letters. Byron's friends, however, convinced him not to respond; they did not want to further encourage the affair that had already scandanlized London society. Caroline was angered by Byron's deliberate avoidance, and when he returned to London, she showed up unexpectantly at his home. (This was a huge no-no: a married woman showing up alone at a man's house had serious social reprecussions.) It was there at his house, in an act of desperation, did Caroline grab a knife and try stab herself. Byron held her down until she was calm. Eventually, she let Hobhouse take her to a friend's home. He was desperate to prevent any public declaration of intent from either party. Before leaving, she made Byron promise to visit her before he left London again.
Caroline, however, still could not resist Byron. She sent him a letter enclosed with a pubic hair (ew!) and a letter addressing herself as "Caroline Byron." The letter she sent read:
'I asked you not to send blood but Yet do - because if it means love I like to have it. I cut the hair too close & bled much more than you need - do not you the same & pray put not scissors points near where quei capelli grow - sooner take it from the arm or wrist - pray be careful....'
Byron agreed to continue writing to her, perhaps because he feared another hysterical outburst. He also still cared for her. And for Byron, absence always made the heart grow fonder. He could now play the role of the gracious former lover. Since she was safely away, he could avow passion he no longer felt.
Byron soon engaged himself in another affair with Jane Elizabeth, Countess of Oxford (I told you he was a player!) and Caroline was devestated. She held a dramatic bonfire in Hertfordshire; village girls dressed in white and danced while Caroline threw copies of Byron's letters, and a figure of Byron she had made, into a fire. Caroline could not forget Byron, however - she would visit his home at inappropiate hours unwelcomed, writing "Remember Me!" on books on his desk. She also forged a note in Byron's handwriting to his publisher John Murray, requesting a painted miniature of the poet. Byron found out, and was furious. In revenge, when Caroline requested a lock of his hair, he sent one of his mistress's hairs instead.
Their last public scenes together ended any remaining semblance of the relationship. They both attended a masked ball at Burlington House in honor of the Duke of Wellington. There, Byron (dressed as a monk) scolded her in public, embarrasing her terribly. Four days later, they saw each other again at a waltzing party at Lady Heathcote's. There, Caroline - who remembered his earlier pleas (when they were still together) for her to sit with him instead of dance - walked up to him and asked, 'I conclude I may waltz now.' Byron replied: 'With every body in turn - you always did it better than anyone. I shall have a pleasure in seeing you.' Later, he said to her sarcastically, 'I have been admiring your dexterity.' Caroline picked up a table knife, 'not intending anything', she later wrote. Byron was amused and contemptuous. 'Do, my dear. If you mean to act a Roman's part,' he told her, 'mind which way you strike with your knife - be it at your own heart, not mine - you have struck there already.' Caroline cried out, 'Byron!' and fled in distress. When some ladies tried to take the knife from her, she cut her hand. The entire affair was reported in the papers.
--------------------------
So... you may ask, why I am now obsessed with Lord Byron? It's because he is the quintessential "bad boy." In addition to Caroline and Jane Elizabeth, he was reportedly involved with Lady Annabella Milbanke, Augusta Leigh, and Lady Frances Webster. Byron was also the master of the love letter. After learning about him, who needs a historical Harlequin romance?
