231—to Thomas Moore

the letter numbered 1 in Appendix III

Lady Caroline Lamb (1785-1828), the "Calantha Avondale" of her own

Glenarvon

, was the daughter of Frederick Ponsonby, third Earl of Bessborough, by his wife, Lady Henrietta Frances Spencer, sister of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. She was brought up, partly in Italy under the care of a servant, partly by her grandmother, the wife of John, first Earl Spencer. She married, June 3, 1805, William Lamb, afterwards Lord Melbourne.

Her manuscript commonplace-book is in the possession of the Hon. G. Ponsonby. A few pages are taken up with a printed copy of the

Essay on the Progressive Improvement of Mankind

, with which her husband won the declamation prize at Trinity, Cambridge, in 1798. The rest of the volume consists of some 200 pages filled with prose, and verse, and sketches. It begins with a list of her nicknames—"Sprite," "Young Savage," "Ariel," "Squirrel," etc. Then follow the secret language of an imaginary order; her first verses, written at the age of thirteen; scraps of poetry, original and extracted, in French, Italian, and English; a long fragment of a wild romantic story of a girl's seduction by an infidel nobleman. A clever sketch in water-colour of William Lamb and of herself, after their marriage, is followed by verses on the birth of her son, "little "Augustus," August 23, 1807. The last stanza of a poem, which has nothing to commend it except the feelings of the wife and mother which it expresses, runs thus:

"His little eyes like William's shine;
How great is then my joy,
For, while I call this darling mine,
I see 'tis William's boy!"

The most ambitious effort in the volume is a poem, illustrated with pictures in water colours, such as

L'Amour se cache sous le voile d'Amitié

, or

l'Innocence le recoit dans ses bras

; a third, in the style of Blake, bears the inscription

le Désespoir met fin à ses jours

. The poem opens with the following lines:

"Winged with Hope and hushed with Joy,
See yon wanton, blue-eyed Boy,—
Arch his smile, and keen his dart,—
Aim at Laura's youthful heart!
How could he his wiles disguise?
How deceive such watchful eyes?
How so pure a breast inspire,
Set so young a Mind on fire?
'Twas because to raise the flame
Love bethought of friendship's name.
Under this false guise he told her
That he lived but to behold her.
How could she his fault discover
When he often vowed to love her?
How could she her heart defend
When he took the name of friend?"

Dates are seldom affixed to the compositions, and it is impossible to say whether any are autobiographical. But, taken as a whole, they reveal a clever, romantic, impulsive, imaginative woman, whose pet names describe at once the charm of her character and the fascination of her small, slight figure, "golden hair, large hazel eyes," and low musical voice.

Her marriage with William Lamb, June 3, seems to have been at first kept secret. Lord Minto in August, 1805 (

Life and Letters

, vol. iii. p. 361), speaks of her as unmarried, and adds that she is "a lively and rather a pretty girl; they say she is very clever." Augustus Foster, writing to his mother, Lady Elizabeth Foster, July 30, 1805 (

The Two Duchesses

, p. 233), says,

"I cannot fancy Lady Caroline married. I cannot be glad of it. How changed she must be—the delicate Ariel, the little Fairy Queen become a wife and soon perhaps a mother."

Lady Elizabeth replies, September 30, 1805 (

ibid

., p. 242):

"You may retract all your sorrow about Caro Ponsonby's marriage, for she is the same wild, delicate, odd, delightful person, unlike everything."

Lady Caroline and William Lamb are described by Lady Elizabeth, three months later, as "flirting all day long

è felice adesso

." The phrase, perhaps, correctly expresses Lady Caroline's conception of love as an episode; but no breach occurred till 1813. In the previous year, when Byron had suddenly risen to the height of his fame, she had refused to be introduced by Lady Westmorland to the man of whom she made the famous entry in her Diary "mad, bad, and dangerous to know." But they met, a few days later, at Holland House, and Byron called on her in Whitehall, where for the next four months he was a daily visitor. On blue-bordered paper, embossed at the corners with scallop-shells, she wrote to Byron at an early stage in their acquaintance,

For

the sequel to the story of their friendship, see Byron's

letter

to Lady Caroline, p. 135,

note

1, and

232—to Lady Caroline Lamb

[Undated.]

I never supposed you artful: we are all selfish,—nature did that for us. But even when you attempt deceit occasionally, you cannot maintain it, which is all the better; want of success will curb the tendency. Every word you utter, every line you write, proves you to be either

sincere

or a

fool

. Now as I know you are not the one, I must believe you the other.

I never knew a woman with greater or more pleasing talents,

general

as in a woman they should be, something of everything, and too much of nothing.

But

these are unfortunately coupled with a total want of common conduct

. For instance, the

note

to your

page

—do you suppose I delivered it? or did you mean that I should? I did not of course.

Then your heart, my poor Caro (what a little volcano!), that pours

lava

through your veins; and yet I cannot wish it a bit colder, to make a

marble slab

of, as you sometimes see (to understand my foolish metaphor) brought in vases, tables, etc., from Vesuvius, when hardened after an eruption. To drop my detestable tropes and figures, you know I have always thought you the cleverest, most agreeable, absurd, amiable, perplexing, dangerous, fascinating little being that lives now, or ought to have lived 2000 years ago. I won't talk to you of beauty; I am no judge. But our beauties cease to be so when near you, and therefore you have either some, or something better. And now, Caro, this nonsense is the first and last compliment (if it be such) I ever paid you. You have often reproached me as wanting in that respect; but others will make up the deficiency.

Come to Lord Grey's; at least do not let me keep you away. All that you so often

say

, I

feel

. Can more be said or felt? This same prudence is tiresome enough; but one

must

maintain it, or what

can

one do to be saved? Keep to it.

The following letter from Lady Caroline to Fletcher, Byron's valet, illustrates the statement in the text:

Fletcher,—Will you come and see me here some evening at 9, and no one will know of it. You may say you bring a letter, and wait the answer. I will send for you in. But I will let you know first, for I wish to speak with you. I also want you to take the little Foreign Page I shall send in to see Lord Byron. Do not tell him before-hand, but, when he comes with flowers, shew him in. I shall not come myself, unless just before he goes away; so do not think it is me. Besides, you will see this is quite a child, only I wish him to see my Lord if you can contrive it, which, if you tell me what hour is most convenient, will be very easy. I go out of Town to-morrow for a day or two, and I am now quite well—at least much better."

,—I feel rather hurt (not savagely) at the speech you made to me last night, and my hope is that it was only one of your

233—To William Bankes

My Dear Bankes

profane

jests. I should be very sorry that any part of my behaviour should give you cause to suppose that I think higher of myself, or otherwise of you than I have always done. I can assure you that I am as much the humblest of your servants as at Trin. Coll.; and if I have not been at home when you favoured me with a call, the loss was more mine than yours. In the bustle of buzzing parties, there is, there can be, no rational conversation; but when I can enjoy it, there is nobody's I can prefer to your own.

Believe me, ever faithfully and most affectionately yours,

Byron

I should have answered your note yesterday, but I hoped to have seen you this morning. I

234—to Thomas Moore

Friday noon.

must

consult with you about the day we dine with Sir Francis

. I

suppose

we shall meet at Lady Spencer's

to-night. I

did

not know that you were at Miss Berry's

the other night, or I should have certainly gone there.

As usual, I am in all sorts of scrapes, though none, at present, of a martial description.

Believe me, etc.

Probably with Sir Francis Burdett, at 77, Piccadilly.

return to footnote mark

Footnote 2:

Grandmother of Lady Caroline Lamb.

Footnote 3:

Mary Berry (1763-1852), the friend and editor of Horace Walpole, whom she might have married, lived at Little Strawberry Hill, and in North Audley Street, London. In her

Journal

Miss Berry mentions two occasions on which she met Byron. The first was Thursday, April 2, 1812, at Lord Glenbervie's.

"I had a quarter of an hour's conversation, which, I own, gave me a great desire to know him better, and he seemed willing that I should do so."

The second occasion was May 7, 1812.

"At the end of the evening I had half an hour's conversation with Lord Byron, principally on the subject of the Scotch Review, with which he is very much pleased. He is a singular man, and pleasant to me but I very much fear that his head begins to be turned by all the adoration of the world, especially the women"

(

Journal and Correspondence of Miss Berry

, vol. ii. pp. 496, 497).

235—to Lady Caroline Lamb

May 1st, 1812.

My Dear Lady Caroline

,—I

have

read over the few poems of Miss Milbank

with attention. They display fancy, feeling, and a little practice would very soon induce facility of expression.

Though

I have an abhorrence of Blank Verse, I like the lines on Dermody

so much that I wish they were in rhyme. The lines in the Cave at Seaham have a turn of thought which I cannot sufficiently commend, and here I am at least candid as my own opinions differ upon such subjects. The first stanza is very good indeed, and the others, with a few slight alterations, might be rendered equally excellent. The last are smooth and pretty. But these are all, has she no others? She certainly is a very extraordinary girl; who would imagine so much strength and variety of thought under that placid Countenance? It is not necessary for Miss M. to be an authoress, indeed I do not think publishing at all creditable either to men or women, and (though you will not believe me) very often feel ashamed of it myself; but I have no hesitation in saying that she has talents which, were it proper or requisite to indulge, would have led to distinction.

A friend of mine (fifty years old, and an author, but not

Rogers

) has just been here. As there is no name to the MSS. I shewed them to him, and he was much more enthusiastic in his praises than I have been. He thinks them beautiful; I shall content myself with observing that they are better, much better, than anything of Miss M.'s protegée (

sic

) Blacket. You will say as much of this to Miss M. as you think proper. I say all this very sincerely. I have no desire to be better acquainted with Miss Milbank; she is too good for a fallen spirit to know, and I should like her more if she were less perfect. Believe me, yours ever most truly,

This letter refers to the future Lady Byron, the "Miss Monmouth" of

Glenarvon

(see vol. iii. p. 100), who was first brought to Byron's notice by Lady Caroline Lamb. Anna Isabella (often shortened into Annabella) Milbanke (born May 17, 1792; died May 16, 1860) was the only child of Sir Ralph Milbanke, Bart., and the Hon. Judith Noel, daughter of Lord Wentworth. Her childhood was passed at Halnaby, or at Seaham, where her father had "a pretty villa on the cliff." In 1808 Seaham

"was the most primitive hamlet ever met with—a dozen or so of cottages, no trade, no manufacture, no business doing that we could see; the owners were mostly servants of Sir Ralph Milbanke's."

(

Memoirs of a Highland Lady

, p. 71). It was here that Blacket the poet (see

Letters

, vol. i. p. 314,

note

2 [Footnote 2 of Letter 154]; p. 6,

note

5, of the present volume; and

English Bards, etc

., line 770, and Byron's

note

) died, befriended by Miss Milbanke.

Byron (Medwin's

Conversations with Lord Byron

, pp. 44, 45) thus describes the personal appearance of his future wife:

"There was something piquant and what we term pretty in Miss Milbanke. Her features were small and feminine, though not regular. She had the fairest skin imaginable. Her figure was perfect for her height; and there was a simplicity, a retired modesty, about her, which was very characteristic, and formed a happy contrast to the cold, artificial formality and studied stiffness which is called fashion."

The roundness of her face suggested to Byron the pet name of "Pippin."

High-principled, guided by a strong sense of duty, imbued with deep religious feeling, Miss Milbanke lived to impress F. W. Robertson as "the noblest woman he ever knew" (

Diary of Crabb Robinson

(1852), vol. iii. p. 405). She was also a clever, well-read girl, fond of mathematics, a student of theology and of Greek, a writer of meritorious verse, which, however, Byron only allowed to be "good by accident" (Medwin, p. 60). Among her mother's friends were Mrs. Siddons, Joanna Baillie, and Maria Edgeworth. The latter, writing, May, 1813, to Miss Ruxton, says, "Lady Milbanke is very agreeable, and has a charming, well-informed daughter." With all her personal charms, virtues, and mental gifts, she shows, in many of her letters, a precision, formality, and self-complacency, which suggest the female pedant. Byron says of her that "she was governed by what she called fixed rules and principles, squared mathematically," (Medwin, p. 60); at one time he used to speak of her as his "Princess of Parallelograms," and at a later period he called her his "Mathematical Medea."

Before Miss Milbanke met Byron, she had a lover in Augustus Foster, son of Lady Elizabeth Foster, afterwards Duchess of Devonshire. The duchess, writing to her son, February 29, 1812, says that Mrs. George Lamb (?) would sound Miss Milbanke as to her feelings:

"Caro means to see la bella Annabelle before she writes to you ... I shall almost hate her if she is blind to the merits of one who would make her so happy"

(

The Two Duchesses

, p. 358). Apparently Mr. Foster's love was not returned.

"She persists in saying," writes the duchess, May 4, 1812 (ibid., p. 362), "that she never suspected your attachment to her; but she is so odd a girl that, though she has for some time rather liked another, she has decidedly refused them, because she thinks she ought to marry a person with a good fortune; and this is partly, I believe, from generosity to her parents, and partly owning that fortune is an object to herself for happiness. In short, she is good, amiable, and sensible, but cold, prudent, and reflecting. Lord Byron makes up to her a little; but she don't seem to admire him except as a poet, nor he her except for a wife."

Again, June 2, 1812, she says,

"Your Annabella is a mystery; liking, not liking; generous-minded, yet afraid of poverty; there is no making her out. I hope you don't make yourself unhappy about her; she is really an icicle."

Miss Milbanke's unaffected simplicity attracted Byron; even her coldness was a charm. When he came to know her, he probably found her not only agreeable, but the best woman he had ever met. Lady Melbourne, who knew him most intimately, and was also Miss Milbanke's aunt, may well have thought that, if her niece once gained control over Byron, her influence would be the making of his character. She encouraged the match by every means in her power. It is unnecessary to suppose that she did so to save Lady Caroline Lamb; that danger was over. At some time before the autumn of 1812, Byron proposed to Miss Milbanke, and was refused. He still, however, continued to correspond with her, and his

Journal

shows that his affection for her was steadily growing during the years 1813-14. In September, 1814, he proposed a second time, and was accepted.

Byron professed to believe (Medwin, p. 59) that Miss Milbanke was not in love with him.

"I was the fashion when she first came out; I had the character of being a great rake, and was a great dandy—both of which young ladies like. She married me from vanity, and the hope of reforming and fixing me."

Byron was not the man to unbosom himself to Medwin on such a subject. Moore asked the same question—whether Lady Byron really loved Byron—of Lady Holland, who

"seemed to think she must. He was such a loveable person. I remember him (said she) sitting there with that light upon him, looking so beautiful!'"

(

Journals, etc.

, vol. ii. p. 324). The letters that will follow seem to show beyond all question that the marriage was one of true affection on both sides.

return to footnote mark

Footnote 2:

Thomas Dermody (1775-1802), a precocious Irish lad, whose dissipated habits weakened his mind and body, published poems in 1792, 1800, and 1802. His collected verses appeared in 1807 under the title of

The Harp of Erin

, edited by J. G. Raymond, who had published the previous year (1806)

The Life of Thomas Dermody

in two volumes.

236—to Thomas Moore

May 8, 1812.

I am too proud of being your friend, to care with whom I am linked in your estimation, and, God knows, I want friends more at this time than at any other. I am "taking care of myself" to no great purpose. If you knew my situation in every point of view, you would excuse apparent and unintentional neglect. I shall leave town, I think; but do not you leave it without seeing me. I wish you, from my soul, every happiness you can wish yourself; and I think you have taken the road to secure it. Peace be with you! I fear she has abandoned me. Ever, etc.