Lord Byron’s Tomb

Text and images from the Rt. Rev. Seán Manchester’s

Hobhouse would have preferred his friend’s coffin to have lain on the casket next to the poet’s mother, but decay had set in to such an extent that it would not support the new arrival who finally came to rest on the coffin of the “Wicked” Lord Byron.

Byron had at last joined his doom-laden ancestors, but, as Hobhouse anticipated, he would not rest in peace. He wrote: “Poor Byron ~ he always kept his friends in hot water during his life and it seems his remains will be of no easy management after his death.” Yet even Hobhouse could not have imagined that the poet would be exhumed one hundred and fourteen years later.

On the evening of 15 June 1938 Byron’s coffin was opened with permission of the Home Office. The family vault had only twice been entered since his interment in 1824: once in in 1852 to bury his daughter, Ada, and the second time during 1887-1888 when the chancel was lengthened. The declared reason for disturbing the tranquillity of the tomb on the third occasion was the earnest desire of a clergyman, Canon Thomas Gerrard Barber, to clear up doubts as to the poet’s burial place and compile a record of the contents of the vault.

The coffin looked quite solid, but proved to be spongy and a little pressure was needed to raise the lid. Inside was a lead shell which, through corrosion or interference before 1888, already had a tear of more than a yard at the head. The lid of the lead shell was turned back and yet another wooden lid was discovered.

The coffins of Lord Byron and

his daughter (right) - in 1938.

After raising this the body of Lord Byron came into view ~ it was in an excellent state of preservation. No decomposition had taken place and the head, torso and limbs were quite solid according to the churchwarden, Arnold Houldsworth. The only parts skeletonised were the forearms, hands, lower shins, ankles and feet. The poet’s right foot was detached from his leg and lay at the bottom of the coffin. The hair on his head, body and limbs was intact, though grey. His sexual organ showed quite abnormal development. There was a hole in his breast and at the back of his head where his heart and brains had been received. These were placed in a large urn near the coffin. According to those present, the sculptured medallion on the church chancel wall is an excellent representation of Byron as he still appeared in 1938.

Canon Barber recorded his observations: “Reverently, very reverently, I raised the lid, and before my eyes lay the embalmed body of Byron in as perfect condition as when it was placed in the coffin one hundred and fourteen years ago. His features and hair easily recognisable from the portraits with which I was so familiar. The serene, almost happy expression on his face made a profound impression on me. The feet and ankles were uncovered, and I was able to establish the fact that his lameness had been that of his right foot. But enough ~ I gently lowered the lid of the coffin ~ and as I did so, breathed a prayer for the peace of his soul.”

The Death of Byron painted by Joseph Odevaere.

Lady Caroline Lamb, after Byron’s departure from England, had written: “My heart’s in torture and my soul the same ~ it is as if there was a sword run through me ~ or a fire burning in my brain ~ no ship that ever was lost on a strange sea without daring to anchor anywhere ~ or in immediate fear of being lost ever yet was so distressed as I am. If this is what I called remorse how can people say there is no Hell? What burning flames can be worse? I shall die very soon and when I do ~ do you remember it and tell them that I suffered enough ~ tell it Byron ~ but I only accuse myself not him.”

News of Byron’s death came abruptly in a letter from William Lamb while she was at Brocket Hall. “Caroline, behave properly,” her husband wrote. “I know it will shock you ~ Lord Byron is dead.”

Prior to this she had been laughing and gay. No sooner had her eyes caught sight of the fatal words than she collapsed and was carried to bed. She never fully recovered from the shock. Caroline appeared to have lost the will to live and spent two months in bed, but on 14 July she was a little recovered and was taken out in her carriage for a short drive. Lord Byron’s black-plumed hearse and funeral procession passed by as her carriage reached a turnpike on the road. Nobody had dared to tell Caroline just whose funeral cortège it was, but when she later learned that she had witnessed her dead lover’s hearse pass by, she collapsed totally.

The text above is taken from Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know where a significantly more comprehensive account is given of Byron’s tomb.

ISBN 1 872486 00 2