Romance Wanderlust: Newstead Abbey

Romance Wanderlust - a yellowed and burnt edge map with a compass in the corner, with Romance Wanderlust written across itNewstead Abbey is beautiful and full of history. Its story features royal crimes, scandalous owners, and Lord Byron, the infamous poet. If, like me, you think Lord Byron was a jerkface and not romantic in the least, you can still enjoy the estate for its beauty and history. On the other hand, if you do find Byron to be romantic, then Newstead Abbey is about as romantic as a place could possibly get. This is your chance to stroll through a hedge maze in something diaphanous, murmuring, “She walks in beauty, like the night.” Seize the day, Romantics.

Newstead Abbey was born out of scandal. After Henry II was implicated in the murder of Thomas Beckett, he had to pay various penances, one of which was founding the priory of St. Mary of Newstead. It was a working priory from 1170 until 1539. And more or less scandal free for a while.

A view of Newstead Abbey from pond, a square one set into the earth

In 1540, Henry VIII gifted the place to Sir John Byron, who converted it into a country house. As people died and married and lived their lives, ownership of the property was passed from Byron to Byron and it became quite a lovely estate, with special care given to the gardens. Alas, it ended up in the hands of William Byron, 5th Baron Byron.

George Gordon Byron, brooding, as one does.
George Gordon Byron, brooding, as one does.

The 5th Baron, who was George Gordon Byron’s uncle (George Gordon being the “Lord Byron” of poetic fame), was nicknamed “The Wicked Lord,” and “The Devil Byron.” He married Elizabeth Shaw and had one son, the confusingly named William Byron (it’s not my fault, I don’t make these names up). One night, the Devil Byron got staggeringly drunk in the company of his similarly drunk cousin. They got into an argument over who had the most game on their estates and Devil Byron stabbed his cousin to death. According to lore, Devil Byron went home and hung the sword up in his bedroom.

After that, stories (probably fictional) circulated of his wild and murderous behavior. Elizabeth left and he promptly married one of his servants (another Elizabeth) and made everyone call her “Lady Betty.” Devil Byron was counting on his son (William Byron) to marry rich, but William eloped with his not-very-rich cousin instead. Devil Byron decided that his ingrate son would inherit nothing but a wreck, and he devoted the rest of his life to destroying as much of the abbey as he could before dying.

But, in a PLOT TWIST, Devil Byron outlived William and the estate went to his great-nephew, George Gordon Byron, AKA Lord Byron, son of, I shit you not, “Mad Jack” Byron. Legend has it that Devil Byron collected crickets and when he died they flew out of the abbey in a huge swarm. Make of that what you will.

Lord Byron was more interested in aesthetics then, say, fixing the roof, so the place continued to fall apart while Byron added statuary and so forth. He didn’t spend much time in residence at Newstead Abbey, but he found its ruinous state to be inspiring.

 

Newstead Abbey in 1880, drawing by F.O. Morris
Newstead Abbey in 1880, drawing by F.O. Morris

Today, Newstead Abbey is being restored to highlight the time periods reflected in its design and decor, including the Middle Ages, Tudor, Regency, and Victorian Eras. It has a collection of Byron artifacts as well as “a collection of items that span the centuries.”

You can take a tour, see a special exhibition, and explore the gardens and the extensive park. There is a hedge maze, of course. You can even spend the night if you rent the recently renovated Gardener’s Cottage.

When you leave, be sure to look back at the abbey and recite the words of Lord Byron:

Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle;

Thou, the hall of my fathers, art gone to decay;

In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle

Have choked up the rose which late bloom’d in the way.

Comments are Closed

  1. Yota Armai says:

    The confusingly named William Byron has a similar backstory to a whole slew of historical heroes. Except that his father outlived him. His story was “supposed to” play out as follows. Old man dies leaving him ruined estate, son now must be a fortune hunter to repair said estate and help all of the people who now depend on him. He marries for money (or attempts to) but finds fiery love instead who helps him to overcome his man pain. Oh and the estate prospers because of investment in new technology?

    Alternatively, he’s been living a debauched life while figuratively dancing on his fathers grave, having made his own way via gambling or vice. Until a mere slip of a girl points out that he’s basically his father take two.

    And since I’m playing with tropes you know how the rest goes ;).

    Poor confusingly named William, he didn’t get his romance hero story.

  2. Bruno says:

    And hey, without Lord Byron we wouldn’t have had Ada Lovelace, and computers wouldn’t exist.

  3. Louise says:

    Thou, the hall of my fathers, art gone to decay
    Yah, funny how that works.

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