Lord Byron: Lucrezia Borgia fanboy extraordinaire
Twitter yesterday reminded me of this, because the strand of Lucrezia's hair which had been kept with her correspondence with Cardinal di Bembo and which Byron pinched when he saw it in Milan in 1816 has been found. How do we know Byron made off with the hair and was in general Lucrezia-fannish? Because he wrote all about to his sister Augusta. Which has the additional subtext that Byron and Augusta were the most famous incestous siblings of their age. (More about this here, if you don't know the story.)
So here's Byron being a hair-stealing Borgia fanboy (Lucrezia signing with a + was an odd coincidence for him because he and Augusta used that sign in their letters to each other):
My dearest Augusta
I have been at Churches, Theatres, libraries, and picture galleries. The Cathedral is noble, the theatre grand, the library excellent, and the galleries I know nothing about-except as far as liking one picture out of a thousand. What has delighted me most is a manuscript collection (preserved in the Ambrosian library), of original love-letters and verses of Lucretia de Borgia & Cardinal Bembo; and a lock of her hair-so long-and fair & beautiful-and the letters so pretty & so loving that it makes one wretched not to have been born sooner to have at least seen her. And pray what do you think is one of her signatures?-why this ✣ a Cross-which she says “is to stand for her name &c.” Is not this amusing? I suppose you know that she was a famous beauty, & famous for the use she made of it; & that she was the love of this same Cardinal Bembo (besides a story about her papa Pope Alexander & her brother Caesar Borgia-which some people don’t believe-& others do), and that after all she ended with being Duchess of Ferrara, and an excellent mother & wife also; so good as to be quite an example. All this may or may not be, but the hair & the letters are so beautiful that I have done nothing but pore over them, & have made the librarian promise me a copy of some of them; and I mean to get some of the hair if I can. The verses are Spanish-the letters Italian-some signed-others with a cross-but all in her own hand-writing.
I am so hurried, & so sleepy, but so anxious to send you even a few lines my dearest Augusta, that you will forgive me troubling you so often; and I shall write again soon; but I have sent you so much lately, that you will have too many perhaps. A thousand, loves to you from me-which is very generous for I only ask one in return
Ever dearest thine
And not mentioning Lucrezia by name, but still in a mind to make odd clerical comparisons which make me wonder whether Neil Jordan read that letter because there is a bit of dialogue in episode 1.03 of The Borgias which resembles this, there is this letter ("that very helpless gentleman your Cousin" refers to Augusta's husband, George Leigh, who was indeed her - and Byron's - first cousin and also a hopeless gambler; it was Augusta who kept the family afloat):
I still hope to be able to see you next Spring, perhaps you & one or two of the children could be spared some time next year for a little tour here or in France with me of a month or two. I think I could make it pleasing to you, & it should be no expense to L. or to yourself. Pray think of this hint. You have no idea how very beautiful great part of this country is-and women and children traverse it with ease and expedition. I would return from any distance at any time to see you, and come to England for you; and when you consider the chances against our-but I won’t relapse into the dismals and anticipate long absences--
The great obstacle would be that you are so admirably yoked-and necessary as a housekeeper-and a letter writer-& a place-hunter to that very helpless gentleman your Cousin, that I suppose the usual self-love of an elderly person would interfere between you & any scheme of recreation or relaxation, for however short a period.
What a fool was I to marry-and you not very wise-my dear-we might have lived so single and so happy-as old maids and bachelors; I shall never find any one like you-nor you (vain as it may seem) like me. We are just formed to pass our lives together, and therefore-we-at least-I-am by a crowd of circumstances removed from the only being who could ever have loved me, or whom I can unmixedly feel attached to.
Had you been a Nun-and I a Monk-that we might have talked through a grate instead of across the sea-no matter-my voice and my heart are
ever thine-
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/914234.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.
So here's Byron being a hair-stealing Borgia fanboy (Lucrezia signing with a + was an odd coincidence for him because he and Augusta used that sign in their letters to each other):
My dearest Augusta
I have been at Churches, Theatres, libraries, and picture galleries. The Cathedral is noble, the theatre grand, the library excellent, and the galleries I know nothing about-except as far as liking one picture out of a thousand. What has delighted me most is a manuscript collection (preserved in the Ambrosian library), of original love-letters and verses of Lucretia de Borgia & Cardinal Bembo; and a lock of her hair-so long-and fair & beautiful-and the letters so pretty & so loving that it makes one wretched not to have been born sooner to have at least seen her. And pray what do you think is one of her signatures?-why this ✣ a Cross-which she says “is to stand for her name &c.” Is not this amusing? I suppose you know that she was a famous beauty, & famous for the use she made of it; & that she was the love of this same Cardinal Bembo (besides a story about her papa Pope Alexander & her brother Caesar Borgia-which some people don’t believe-& others do), and that after all she ended with being Duchess of Ferrara, and an excellent mother & wife also; so good as to be quite an example. All this may or may not be, but the hair & the letters are so beautiful that I have done nothing but pore over them, & have made the librarian promise me a copy of some of them; and I mean to get some of the hair if I can. The verses are Spanish-the letters Italian-some signed-others with a cross-but all in her own hand-writing.
I am so hurried, & so sleepy, but so anxious to send you even a few lines my dearest Augusta, that you will forgive me troubling you so often; and I shall write again soon; but I have sent you so much lately, that you will have too many perhaps. A thousand, loves to you from me-which is very generous for I only ask one in return
Ever dearest thine
And not mentioning Lucrezia by name, but still in a mind to make odd clerical comparisons which make me wonder whether Neil Jordan read that letter because there is a bit of dialogue in episode 1.03 of The Borgias which resembles this, there is this letter ("that very helpless gentleman your Cousin" refers to Augusta's husband, George Leigh, who was indeed her - and Byron's - first cousin and also a hopeless gambler; it was Augusta who kept the family afloat):
I still hope to be able to see you next Spring, perhaps you & one or two of the children could be spared some time next year for a little tour here or in France with me of a month or two. I think I could make it pleasing to you, & it should be no expense to L. or to yourself. Pray think of this hint. You have no idea how very beautiful great part of this country is-and women and children traverse it with ease and expedition. I would return from any distance at any time to see you, and come to England for you; and when you consider the chances against our-but I won’t relapse into the dismals and anticipate long absences--
The great obstacle would be that you are so admirably yoked-and necessary as a housekeeper-and a letter writer-& a place-hunter to that very helpless gentleman your Cousin, that I suppose the usual self-love of an elderly person would interfere between you & any scheme of recreation or relaxation, for however short a period.
What a fool was I to marry-and you not very wise-my dear-we might have lived so single and so happy-as old maids and bachelors; I shall never find any one like you-nor you (vain as it may seem) like me. We are just formed to pass our lives together, and therefore-we-at least-I-am by a crowd of circumstances removed from the only being who could ever have loved me, or whom I can unmixedly feel attached to.
Had you been a Nun-and I a Monk-that we might have talked through a grate instead of across the sea-no matter-my voice and my heart are
ever thine-
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/914234.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.