Blest Her! The Angel Suffers No More…

"Oh! my God! how has my poor Child been sacrificed! not only to a wicked, but unmanly Creature!" The agitated author of this letter was the Hon. Judith Noel in the dying days of January 1816 as the marriage separation between her beloved only daughter and Lord Byron became increasingly acrimonious and as the latter prepared for a life in exile far away from the marital home of 13 Piccadilly Terrace in London. However, Judith was QUITE mistaken in her distraught prediction about her 'poor child's' imminent demise...

I Am YOUR Child!

Accused of being "Unreasonable - most excited - most irritated - changing however from storm to sunshine at every moment" - Elizabeth Medora Leigh would finally succeed in alienating herself from all who could offer her protection...

Behold the Blessings of Lady Noel – Damn!

As we know that no one lives forever - the Lady Noel was no exception for a mere seven months after Lord B's most facetious letter - his Mamma-At-Law died on Monday January 28 in 1822.

Byron was not to receive the news of Judith Noel's death until early March from Augusta and true to his detestation of 'cant', his response was brutally frank...

Taking My Leave of Number 13?

On a cold January day Lady Byron walked out of the front door of 13 Piccadilly Terrace for the last time...

Far from the Scenes of Birth and Youth…

It is at Kensal Green Cemetery in West London on May 21 1860 that Annabella was laid to rest and despite the incorrect spelling of her first name and that she had been born in the home of her mother's great friend Isabella Baker at Elemore Hall, her simple and elegant grave can be discovered in the shadow of the enormous Dissenter's Chapel. And one glorious afternoon in October I took a stroll through this fabulous cemetery to the grave of Byron's spouse...

I Have Suffered! Can It EVER Be Known?

George Colman the Younger as the theatrical manager at Drury Lane considered Lord Byron a friend and as they got drunk together on more than one occasion.

As he had an intuitive understanding of the complexities of the Byron marriage and the subsequent separation - perhaps his poem finally offers us a tantalising hint of what happened all those years ago?

‘Tis a Pity There Were Three of Us!

By April 1816, Lady Byron's desire to be 'securely separated' from her spouse was reaching an increasingly bitter, fraught and heart breaking conclusion...