THE LATE LORD LYTTON'S LOVE-LETTERS.

Evening Star, Issue 6760, 27 November 1884, Page 4

THE LATE LORD LYTTON'S LOVE-LETTERS.

['Pall Mall Gazette,']

Misa Louisa Devey is the executrix to the Dowager Lady Lytton. To her Lady Lytton left by will all her papers, including these letters, an incomplete •'Autobiography," and another MS. of autobiographic character, called "Nemesis"; "and she was so nervously anxious that her intention should not through any inadvertence be frustrated that she directed that they should not by reason of any pretext, ' however plausible and apparently truthful,' be permitted to pass into the hands of any member of certain families she named." "My first intention," says Mis 3 Devey, "was to delay this publication for some years; but I am compelled to hasten my action in consequence of the recent appearance of the 'Biography of Edward Lord iy tton'; for, although I might not have con- j sidered it incumbent on me to correct inac- j curacies bo far as the late Lord was concerned,

ypt in the unjust notices of Lady Lytton I feel that delay would bo prejudicial to tho very object of my trust, and the faithful discharge of a duty I had unreservedly accepted. Let, then, these letters tell their own tale. The correspondence carries the reader with some intervals through the years of courtship and early married life, and it is remarkable that Miss Wheeler's letters over the same period are so carefully suppressed, thus affording reasonable ground for believing that they would hardly suppoLt the genera! tenor of the 'Biography.' It may be a question of taste how far tho publication of private correspondence may be justified, where it only supplements opinions already formed; but there can be no doubt of its necessity whon used to redress wrong or to correct mis-statements that are not only false in themselves, but compel us to repudiate them with indignation as attempts to impose upon our credulity." TIIK MUST MEETINC. The first meeting of Miss Wheeler with Mr Edward Bulwer took place at a party at Miss Benger'a, in October, 1825. Thus Miss Wheeler describes her future husband : He had (she says in her autobiography) just returned from Paris, and was resplendent with French polish—as far as boots went. His cobweb cambric shirt-front was a triumph of lace and embroidery, a combination never seen in this country till six or seven years later (except on babies' frocks). Studs too, except in racing stables, were then uon est,- but a perfect galaxy glittered down the centre of this fairylike lingerie. His hair, which was really golden and abundant, he wore literally in long ringlets that almost reached his shoulders. He was unmistakeably gentlcman-lika looking. Poor D'Orsay's linen gauntlots had not yet burst upon the London world ; but Mr Lytton Bulwer had three inches of cambric encircling his coat cuffs, and fastened with jewelled sleeve-links. And although it wanted full five years till every man in society was caned, he also dangled from his ungloved and glittering right hand a somewhat gorgcoiißly jewel-headed ebony eane; and the dangling' was of the scientific kind, evidently "learned, marked,and inwardly digested." Shortly after this meeting begins a series of 29S letters, which the volume contains. The cold formality of the first two or three soon change to something more passionate : What could 1 not hope for (he says), what could I not achieve, if vour smile was my inspiration and your love my reward? I do not speak from the romance of momentary impulse, or the too sanguine expectations of an inexperienced ambition. Hard as it is for persons depressed by poverty and birth to obtain distinction, to those in a more fortunate situation it requires little but the stimulus and exertion. Tell me to hope for you, ltosiua, and every other object of ambition will appear easy and mean in comparison. . . . Will what I have written explain my sentiments and my wishes? I pause-I become embarrassed—l know not what I would express. Hate you, Rosiua! At this moment the tears are in my eyes, my heart beats audibly. I stop to kiss the paper consecrated by your hand—can these signs of love ever turn into hatred 1 etc. And so matters go on in tho same strain. "It has already been remarked," says Lady Lytton's executrix, "that Mr Bulwer's letters to Miss Wheeler exhaust the whole vocabulary of amatory declamation; but their want of reticence and dignity too clearly betray a sensual abandonment to what she called the 'love of a a Bashaw,' not concealed by the affected but ponderous philandering of his playful correspondence under the names of 'Puppy' and 'Poodle.'" A TABLE OF ENDEARMENTS. In the seventeenth letter begins a series of endearments, of pet names, of wonderful diminutives and superlatives as extraordinary as any that have ever been laughed at in a Court of law. "My dearest Rose and darlingest Poodle," he addresses Miss Wheeler, signing himself "Oo own Puppo." For the curious in such matters we give one or two bits taken at random from tho collection, examples which fairly serve as a sample of the whole:— And so they dressed my Foodie in white and blaok? 0, zoo darling! how I like a poodle ! And had oo oo's bootiful ears curled nicely, and did oo not look too pretty, and did not all tho puppy dogs run after oo and tell oo what a darling oo was ? Ah! mee sends oo nine million kisses to be distributed as follows : 500,000 for oo bootiful mouth, 250,000 to oo right eye, 250,000 to oo left eye, 1,000,000 to oo dear neck, and the rest to be equally divided between oo arms and hands.

Ten million more kisses, my own darling, for your letter which is just arrived. It is read, and now before it is answered take the following [marks of fcisswl. Pray, darling, shall we not kiss prettily to-morrow, Darling (D) (A) (R) (L) (I) (N) (G) ? Well, my darling, pray write, for my soul hungers and thirsts after your writcousness— ten million [mar/a 0/ kisses] and 15 [biles]. 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 [marls of kisses], my dearest Rose. My own dear kind darling love and poodle. Adieu, my own Rose, my life of life, very Poodle of very Poodles, Adieu! Adieu, oo own Idolatrous Puppy. Ever my dearest dearest dearest fondest kindest bootifulest darlingest angelest Poodle, oo own Puppy. Asparagus Acorn Pup Bobadil o Boots K . FURTHER LETTERS. A daughter (Emily Elizabeth) was born at Woodcot on June 27,18*25, Lady Lytton writes she was not allowed to nurse her child, as it would take up too much time from attendance on, and assistance to, her husband in his literary labors; it was, therefore, sent out to nurse at a neighboring farm-house; and in consequence of the separation, her eyesight became so much injured from weeping that she was ordered to the seaside by her medical adviser. The death of this daughter on April 29, 1848, from typhoid fever, forms, says Miss Devey, another tragic episode in the life of Lady Lytton, as is fully explained by two letters at the end of the volume, one from Miss Katherine Planche" (an eye witness), the other from the Baroness de Ritter, in whose charge Miss Lytton had been placed. Miss Lytton died at a small lodging-house, 21 Pelham place, Brompton, and not, it appears, at Kuebworth, as stated in the daily papers. On July 12, 1828, he writes that he is vastly troubled by four circumstances—first of all, all, about "de puppy pedigree " ; secondly, about de bartcy, which we hopes is certain; thirdly, about raising do money, which we can do ! fourthly and worse than all put together—that d dColburn (his publisher).' And so the letters go on day after day, full of uninteresting gossip about his books, his dinners, his chances of being made a "Bart.," presents to his wife. Once he asks her to Make one favor, which is, that whenever oo is vexed with me, oo will not go out from mo to our child. Do not say " this is kinder to me, or this loves mo better than he does" ;do not let a being, however dear it necessarily will, and ought to be to you, but which is only just come into the world in which I for three years have known and loved you ; do not lot it be as dear to you as one win has given and will give you proofs of affection, which that cannot for many years equal and which it can never excel. That a creature hitherto without sense, knowledge, feeling, attachment, should at once become dearer to you than I am, Ido not and will not believe 1 If it were the case, one cf us would indeed be utterly unworthy of the other 1 THE QUARREL AND SEPARATION,

Mr and Mrs Bulwer left Woodcot, where they had lived since their marriage, in April, 1829, for Tunbridge Wells. The first of his letters from London is dated May 14, and they continue to May 30, when Mrs Bulwer returned to Woodcot, and subsequently removed to London. A son (Edward Robert) was born on November 8, 1831. They left England in the autumn of 1533, and arrived at Naples on November 17 that same year. The diary fixes January 14, 1834, " dinner at Lord Hertford's, taken by Lady Cullum," which agrees with dates given in the deposition of Rosetta Benson, lady's maid to Lady Lytton. They returned to England early in the year 1834. Letter No. 284, dated May 30, 1829, addressed to Mrs Bulwer, while Btaying at Tunbridge Wells, was the last one written for five years. On July 4, 1834, comes No. 285, written by " Mrs Bulwer, from the Castle Hotel, after a gross personal outrage." From this letter we quote largely, as it is, perhaps, the moat important in the collection :

You have been caielhj oulm<jaT. and I stand eternally degraded in my own eyes. I do not for a moment blarao you for the publicity which you gave to an affront nothing but frenzy can extenuate—l do not blame you for exposing me to my servants—for seeking that occasion to vindicate yourself to my mother; nor for a single proceeding of that most natural conduct, which has probably by this time made me the thenio for all the malignity of London. All this was perfectly justifiable after what had taken place, and I have only myself to blame for having been betrayed into such madness, and giving myself, in a moment of passion, so wholly into tho hands of my enemies. But I may doubt whether it was humane to tamper with so terrible an infirmity as mine, to provoke so gratuitously in the first instance, to continue to sting and to exasperate, to lead me on step by step, to rouse me out of the restraints I visibly endeavored to put upon myself, to resolve on not aUoinwi mo to escape myself, to persist in Btretching to tho utmost a temper always so constitutionally violent, and stung now by a thousand cares and vexations into an irritable sourness, which common charity might, if it could not forbear with, at least not unnecessarily gall—until at last senso, reason, manhood, everything gave way, and I was a maniac and a brute. I doubt if that was humane. lam now convinced of what I have long believed : I am only fit to live alone. God and nature afflicted me with unsocial habits, weak nerves, and violent passions. Everything in my life has tended to feed theso infirmities, until they have become a confirmed and incurable disease, which nothing but a gentle pity, a forbearing, soothing, watchful compassion—as of a nurse over a madman—can render bearable to me or to others.

He then goes on to settlement money matters, He gives his wife free choice of a residence; and "as for the children, they are left

completely with you." He then concludes a3 follows: < I do not ask your forgiveness, which 1 /.-new ?jo" n.oiiW ycadihj give, but which would neither remove my own soreness nor raise my pride. I ask no jortj icencssfrom liuinaii bcinj. Such as I am, I will be to tho last—my own judge. I have been my own accuser and my own punishment. I have not one particle of angry feeling against you ; all my bittcrnoßS is for myself. And now—farewell. I wish you every comfort; and after the first nervousness of a "break-up" is over, I know you will find a great relief in our relative change of position. For six years you have been to me an ineoniiuirnblc wife. That thought alone is sufficient to make mo judge \ou leniently in the last year. Whether the chanso arose from too harsh a misconstruction of my faults, from an erroneous estimate of my character, from that utter difference of tastes, habits, and pursuits, which time, that woars away all gloss and all concealment, made more obvious and more irksome—whatever bo the causo of the change that has taken place in your affection and your kindness, I make no complaint, I call for no defence. Let us both rest in peace. LADY LYTTON'S VERSION Of THE STORY. Aud this was the provocation as Lxdy Lytton tell the story : Upon his asking me with whom I was going to 'he christening of Mr Fonblanque's child that night, and I replying "with Lady Stepney," he then repeated 03 fast as he could, a doz.-n times running: "My mother calls her that ugly old woman." He then called out: "Do you hear me, madam?" "Of courso I hear you." "Then why the——in don't you answer me?" "I di.i not think it required an answer." " D your soul, madam!" he exclaimed, seizing a cawing knife (for we were at dinner, and ho had told the servants to leave the room till he rang), and rushing at me, cried, " I'll have you to know that, whenever I do you the honor of addressing you, it requires an answer!" I said: "For God's sake, take care what you are about, Edward !" He then dropped the knife, and, springing on me, made his great teeth meet in my cheek, and the blood spurted over me. The agony was so creat that my screams brought lhc servants back, and presently Cresson, the cook, seized him by the collar; but he broke from him, and seizing one of the footman's hats iu the hall, rushed down Piccadilly. THE FINAL SEPARATION. On January 18, 1836, he writtß to propose that the past should be forgotten, " although I am convinced that if you once made the e Sfortyou would feelyourself happier separated from me," etc. The next letter explains the immediate cause of the separation. Mr Bulwer had promised to dine with his wife at Berrymead. At nine o'clock a man ou horseback arrived with a message to the effect that he was too ill to come. Mrs Bulwer immediately sent for a carriage, aud, bringing what she thought necessary for an invalid, arrived at eleven o'clock at his chambers at the Albany, and after long ringiDg at last he opened the door, etc., etc. In letter 29-1 he expresses his indignation at her visit to his chambers. Madam,—Your conduct requires no comment, your letter deserves no answer—you come to my chambers —ring violently—my sole servant is out. (1 am not in tho habit of opening my own door.) Igo at Instill and worn out—see you to my surprise—you recur to your most base, unworthy, and most ungrateful suspicions on seeing tuio teacups on my tray !! ! make a sccno before your footman and the porters of the lodge, and expose me and yourself to the ridicule of the town. And this is the history of your adventures ! I havo only to say at present, that it furnishes another to the unwarrantable and unpardonable insults and injuries you have so unsparingly heaped on your husband.—E.D. He demands an apology, and eventually writes "On no consideration whatever will I live with you again." The deed of reparation, which allowed Mrs Bulwer L4OO a-year for Mr Bulwer's life only, and LSO a-year each for the two children as long as he permitted them to remain with their mother, is dated April 19, 1836; and on June 14, 1836, she with her children quitted Berrymead, her husband's home, for ever. AN INTERESTING DEPOSITION. Here are some extracts from the deposition of Mrs Rosetta Benson, maid to Lidy Lytton, which is placed at the end of the volume : I, Rosetta Benson, widow, whose maiden name was Byrne, and who lived for some years as lady's maid with tho Right Honorable Ladv Lytton—then Mrs Edward Lytton Bulwer, when her ladyship married—from 1827 to 1845, being prevented by the present state of my health from going to London to give my evidence in the Divorce Court, should it be necessary, do hereby depose on oath before the Rev. John Batt Bingham, magistrate, Herts, that during the whole of that period I never knew any gentleman treat a wife, more especially such a good and irreproachable wife, so hardly and so badly as the present Lord Lytton did her ladyship, not only as to cruel neglect and infidelity, but also as to acts of brutal personal vielonco, among others on one occasion, when travelling in Italy in 1833. One night at the Lake of Bilsano he S3 dashed the things about, and at nor ladyship, that even Luigi, the courier, vowed he would not continue the Journey with him. Again at Naples, after having in one of his brutal rages kiek'd and bang'd her ladyship against the stone floor at the HOtcl Vittoria till she was black and blue, and had to keep her bed. A few days after, because people began to talk of this at Naples, ho made her, poor lady, get up and dress herself to go to a great dinner at Lord Hertford's. After we got back to London, his temper continued awful towards her ladyship, for having asked him for money to pay the house bills left unpaid when they went abroad ; so one day in July, 1834, at dinner at their house, 36 Hertford street, Mayfair, London, he seized a carving-knife and rushed at his wife, when she cried out: "For God's sake, Edward, take care what you are about!" whon he dropped the knife, and, springing on her like a tiger, made his teeth meet in her loft cheek, until her soreams brought the men-servants back into the dining-room; and he has ever sine* hunted her thro'the world, with spies and bad women, and does not allow her enough to live upon for a lady in her station.