It was her cherished vanity to be taken for a young unmarried girl. Her relations were much alarmed at her disappearance. Lady Spencer sent to Lord Byron’s house, who disclaimed all knowledge of the truant. After creating a great excitement in the good doctor’s drawing-room, the lady returned home, to enjoy another scene and another reconciliation. Her mother, Lady Bessborough, who was in very delicate health, was deeply concerned at her daughter’s conduct, the conjugal quarrels, and the intimacy with Lord Byron, which was so much talked of in the world. ‘Poor dear mamma was miserable; she prevailed on me at length to go to Ireland with her and papa.’ On their departure, Lord Byron wrote to his dearest Caroline a most peculiar letter, abounding, indeed, in high-flown protestations, assuring her he was hers only, hers entirely; that he would with pleasure give up everything for her, both here and beyond the grave; that he was ready to fly with her, when and whenever she might appoint, etc.; at the same time reminding her of her duty to her husband and her mother—a most wonderful mixture of false sentiment and shallow feeling, which could only have deceived one so blinded as the recipient. ‘Byron continued to write to me while I was in Ireland. His letters were tender and amusing. We had arrived at Dublin, on our way home, when my mother brought me a letter from him,—such a letter!—I have published it in Glenarvon. It was sealed with a coronet, but neither the coronet nor the initials were his; they were Lady Oxford’s.’ Lady Caroline was beside herself with rage and jealousy; she fell ill. They were detained at ‘a horrid little inn’ at Rock. She arrived in England in the most excited frame of mind. Byron complains of her proceedings, which were of a most melodramatic nature; she went to see him, dressed as a page; she vowed she would stab herself, and wished some one would kill him;—‘in short,’ says the poet, ‘the Agnus is furious; you can have no idea what things she says and does, ever since the time that I (really from the best motives) withdrew my homage. She actually writes me letters threatening my life.’ We have no reference at hand to note when these lines were written, but we believe after his marriage:—
‘They’ll tell thee, Clara, I have seemed
Of late another’s charms to woo,
Nor sighed nor frowned as if I deemed
That thou wert vanished from my view.
Clara, this struggle to undo
What thou hast done too well for me,
This mask before the babbling crowd,
This treachery, is truth to thee,’—
a peculiar and ambiguous form of reasoning, by which it appeared Lady Caroline was not convinced.