230th Anniversary of the Birth of Lord Byron

But I have lived, and have not lived in vain:

  My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire,

  And my frame perish even in conquering pain;         

  But there is that within me which shall tire

  Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire;

  Something unearthly, which they deem not of,

  Like the remember’d tone of a mute lyre,

  Shall on their soften’d spirits sink, and move         

In hearts all rocky now the late remorse of love.

Clara Allegra Byron Baptismal Record

Why would the entry for Lucy Monk's child of 1812 be defaced, but not the one for 1818 where Lord Byron is named on Allegra's baptismal record? Notwithstanding that different parishes and the incumbent had different ways of doing things, it is clear that Lord Byron was not present when the later entry was made. He also had nothing to lose in openly acknowledging Allegra to be his child. Unlike 1812, when there would have been every incentive not to mention such a famous lauded and public figure who might well hit back, despite him settling a sum to help Lucy look after the illegitimate progeny, in 1818 Byron's world had completely changed. He was in disgrace with fortune and society, and was by then living abroad in exile, never to return to that "tight little island."

Clara Allegra Byron (12 January 1817 – 20 April 1822) was the illegitimate daughter of the poet George Gordon, Lord Byron and Claire Clairmont. Born in Bath, England, she was initially named Alba, meaning "dawn," or "white," by her mother. At first she lived with her mother, her mother's step-sister, Mary Shelley, and Mary's husband Percy Bysshe Shelley. When she was fifteen months old she was turned over to Byron, who changed her name to Allegra. Byron placed her with foster families and later in a Roman Catholic convent, where she died at age five of typhus or malaria.

Mary Shelley had called the baby Allegra "the little Commodore" because of her sturdy body and alert, intelligent look. Byron was also pleased with Allegra's resemblances to himself in appearance and temperament. When she was eighteen months old, he wrote in a letter to a friend: "My bastard came three days ago—very like—healthy—noisy & capricious." In an 1818 letter to his half-sister Augusta Leigh, Byron wrote that "She is very pretty—remarkably intelligent ... She has very blue eyes—that singular forehead—fair curly hair—and a devil of a spirit—but that is Papa's." In 1819, in another letter to Leigh, Byron described two and a half-year-old Allegra as "very droll" and again commented on her resemblance to himself in physical appearance, temperament and interests: "(She) has a very good deal of the Byron. Can't articulate the letter 'r' at all—frowns and pouts quite in our way—blue eyes—light hair growing darker daily—and a dimple in the chin—a scowl on the brow—white skin—sweet voice—and a particular liking of Music—and of her own way in every thing—is that not B. all over?" The child had forgotten any English she had learned and now spoke only Venetian Italian. In March 1820, he complained in a letter that three-year-old Allegra was vain and "obstinate as a mule." Her behaviour was sometimes unmanageable, probably as a result of her unstable living arrangements and changing care-givers. At age four, the naughty child terrorised Byron's servants with her temper tantrums and other misbehavior and told frequent lies.

As she grew older, Allegra also demonstrated a talent for acting and singing. Byron's mistress Teresa, Contessa Guiccioli, whom Allegra called "mammina," remarked on Allegra's talent for mimicking the servants and for singing popular songs. Byron felt her mimicry, another talent she shared with him, might amuse other people in the short term, but would eventually be a cause of trouble for her.

Allegra developed a high fever on 13 April 1822. The nuns called a doctor to see her. He determined that Allegra was suffering "little slow fevers." Her father was informed, but Byron did not visit. He nonetheless approved the use of any medical interventions deemed necessary. She was considered out of danger on April 15th. However, she died on April 20th, attended by three doctors and all of the nuns at the convent, of what some biographers have identified as typhus.

Byron sent her body to England and wrote an inscription for her gravestone that read: "In memory of Allegra, daughter of G.G., Lord Byron, who died at Bagna Cavallo in Italy, 20 April 1822, Aged Five Years and Three Months,-'I shall go to her, but she shall not return to me.'-2 Samuel, xii, 23." He felt guilty about his neglect of the child after her death, and told Marguerite, Countess of Blessington, a few months afterwards:

"Let the object of affection be snatched away by death, and how is all the pain ever inflicted upon them avenged! The same imagination that led us to slight or overlook their sufferings, now that they are forever lost to us, magnifies their estimable qualities ... How did I feel this when my daughter, Allegra, died! While she lived, her existence never seemed necessary to my happiness; but no sooner did I lose her, than it appeared to me as if I could not live without her."

Claire Clairmont accused Lord Byron of murdering Allegra and demanded that he send her a portrait of Allegra, a lock of the child's hair, and that she be placed in charge of the funeral arrangements. In the end, though, Claire could not bear to see Allegra's coffin or to hold a funeral service for her daughter. She blamed Byron for the rest of her life for Allegra's death.

Scandalised by the child's illegitimacy, the rector of St Mary's Parish Church in Harrow, Middlesex, England, refused to place a plaque on Allegra's grave and permitted her only to be buried at the entrance of the church without a marker. In 1980, The Byron Society placed a memorial plaque for Allegra at Harrow, inscribed with words from a letter Byron wrote to Shelley after her death: 

"I suppose that Time will do his usual work... – Death has done his."

The 1812 Linby Parish Register Erasure

A copy of the 1812 Parish Register of Linby, Nottinghamshire, shows the erasure of the birth register of a male infant believed by most scholars to be fathered by Lord Byron.

A tentative construction made at the actual time of examining this document, bearing in mind contemporary registry formulae might (and very likely does) read:

“Sept 24 George illegitimate Son of Lucy Monk: illegitimate Son of Baron Byron of Newstead Nottingham Newstead Abbey.” - Ralph Lloyd-Jones (Byron’s Servant Relationships)

Descendant and end of the direct bloodline.

A contemporary depiction of Lord Byron and Lucy Monk in oils.

Top Hats And a Tale of Old Harrovians

Lord Byron in his late teenage years (1804-1806) when he would have been attending Harrow. This is an engraving (original artist unknown) from the John Murray collection.

Gentlemen began to replace the tricorne with the top hat at the end of the 18th century. The first silk top hat in England is credited to George Dunnage, a hatter from Middlesex, in 1793. The invention of the top hat is often erroneously credited to a haberdasher named John Hetherington. During the 19th century, the top hat developed from a fashion into a symbol of urban respectability, and this was assured when Prince Albert started wearing them in 1850. On 5 May 1812, a London hatter called Thomas Francis Dollman patented a design for "an elastic round hat" supported by ribs and springs, known as a collapsible top hat. I occasionally wear one myself, but indubitably prefer the traditional design which I find significantly more comfortable. This vintage picture of me (below) in a topper hails from the 1960s and is rare if only because I am sporting a beard.

Although Eton College has now sadly abandoned, along with much else, the top hat as part of its uniform, top hats are still worn by "Monitors" at Harrow School with their Sunday dress uniform. I have always had a closer affiliation with Harrow, needless to say. Lord Byron attended Harrow from 1801 to July 1805, and proved, not unlike myself, to be an undistinguished student and an unskilled cricketer. He nonetheless represented the school during the very first Eton v Harrow cricket match at Lord's in 1805. This was at a time when Harrow enjoyed high subscription and fame under Dr Joseph Drury, headmaster. Byron's time at Harrow was not spent just in idleness or with his friends; he busied himself reading books; history was his primary subject, followed by biography, poetry, philosophy, and other topics. He was originally supposed to be an orator, and he would read various passages out aloud for others. But his attitude caused problems between him and the administration at Harrow (markedly, he led a rebellion among the boys against the new headmaster, the Reverend Dr George Butler) and during the 1804 Christmas holidays, Byron, at Drury's prompting, wanted to leave the school. Carlisle intervened and he stayed on at Harrow until July 1805. Accepted at Trinity College, Cambridge, he went up the following October. At Cambridge, the college authorities told him that pet dogs were banned. So annoyed was he by this rule that he brought a tame bear instead.

He argued that as bears weren’t specifically mentioned in their statutes the college had no legal grounds for complaint. Where he acquired the animal far from clear, but it may have been from a travelling menagerie. Byron won the argument against the college and the bear stayed with him in his lodgings. He would walk the bear around the grounds of Trinity on a chain like a dog, and delighted in the reactions he got from passers-by.

Not finished yet, however, Byron even suggested that he would apply for the bear to join the college. He once wrote: “I have got a new friend, the finest in the world, a tame bear. When I brought him here, they asked me what I meant to do with him, and my reply was, ‘he should sit for a fellowship’.”

Throughout his life, Byron had many pets – some common choices but many unusual ones too. It is reported that as well as dogs and cats, he kept monkeys, a crocodile, peacocks, badgers, and several birds of prey. But the animal he loved most was a Newfoundland dog named Boatswain. His affection for the dog was so strong that when Boatswain caught rabies, Byron nursed him without any concern for his safety of being bitten. When the dog died, he commissioned a monument to Boatswain and wrote in his will that he wished to be buried next to his beloved pet. This, like much else he requested, was ignored.

St George's Day

Lord Byron in Greek costume

The Death of Lord Byron